#the overhead shot made you really just. stare in the face of how disgusting they all are

[inhumanfuckingdogman]

[herbatalover]

Could I request something with Charles? Perhaps male reader is too shy cause why would big handsome Charles ever want with them? Or something like that? Feeling extra insecure today myself lol

Again, I'm really sorry it took so long. I got problems with notifications, but here is something I came up with! I hope you'll like it

★★★★★

Charles x m!reader

It was pathetic. You were pathetic and you knew it.

You were sitting by the campfire, staring at it blankly. Most people already went off to sleep, leaving you alone with his thoughts and a drink in his hand. Sad, sure, but what else can you do when you got a hopeless crush on someone out of your league? Not only that, but on someone who's the same gender?

Now, you see, most people in the camp didn't have a problem with someone being queer. Hell, with Bill Williamson being one there was no chance for any mean comments (Micah being an exception, but I don't think we're surprised).

But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that the crush was Charles Smith himself. And as sweet and nice as he was, you couldn't risk possibly hinting at it and getting shot down. Mostly because he was too dear for you to see the awkwardness or disgust on his face. Or maybe it was the fact you were afraid he'd laugh at your face, or worse, get mad.

In the corner of your eye, you saw someone sitting down next to you. You turn your head there, noticing Bill, having his own drink. He took a swig, then looked at you.

"Tough night?"

"Tough few months..." You sigh. The man was looking at you quietly, then chuckled.

"You're sweet on someone"

"Excuse me?" You turn to him, surprised. He wasn't good at reading people, you know that. So the thought your crush was so visible sent you into slight panic.

"You're sweet on someone. I'm not surprised, many folks are fond of the ladies" He shrugged. You were staring at him quietly, then turned back to the fire as he started guessing who might it be.

"Is is Karen? She's attractive, even I know this. Tilly maybe? Or Sadie? Sadie is a hard fork partner, you'll wantnto be careful with-"

"It's a man" you muttered under your breath. You thought it was barely above a whisper, but the way he went awfully quiet made your head turned away. He likes men, you knew this, but it still felt like something to be ashamed of.

"... A man?" He repeated. You just shook your head.

"No, you overhead"

"I'm dumb L/N, but I'm not deaf" he rolled his eyes. You turn to him quietly. The shame must've been visible in your eyes, because his looks immediately softened when he looked at you. Or maybe it was pity?

"Forget it. Please"

"Y/N" he sighed. "You can trust me. Look, I might not be the best listener, but this is one topic I know how to help with"

You just look down in to your hands. The thought of letting it out, talking it through with someone seemed nice. But scary as well.

"Who is it?"

You held your breath. There it was, the question that could set you free or bring all hell upon you. You tried to come up with something, an excuse, anything. But then came a moment of braveness. So...

"It's Charles"

"Charles?!" Bill spat his drink out, coughing surprised. You shushed him quickly, not wanting anyone else to hear.

"Shut up!!"

"Sorry, sorry-" he cleared his throat, calming down. "It's just... I already expected Arthur-"

"Arthur's nice, but he's more of a brother to me" you sigh. He nodded slowly.

"... Do you want to tell him?"

"God no-" you shook your head. "he'll just reject me"

"Why do you think so?"

"Why do you not?? He obviously likes women!"

"Oh please! If anything, he loves animals over life" he muttered, waiving his hand and turned to you. "Give it a go, trust me. I... Spoke with him"

You went quiet.

You had to know everything.

"You spoke?? When?? Why?? What about?? Anything about me?? Did he-"

"Jesus, hold your horses partner!" Bill raised his hands. "Yesterday. He had to get something of his chest. He might... Like you too"

All the world started spinning around you. Charles Smith himself might like you. That's all you ever dreamed of. Bil chuckled "So I'd say, go an tell him! You might be surprised"

"...and what if he doesn't like me?"

"Doesn't like you? Oh, well then screw him! There are other guys and gals better than him!" But there wasn't. He was the best one. Yet you still smiled at Bill's attempts to make you feel better.

"Thank you" you nodded. "You really helped"

"Yea, well... When you live being sweet on someone, you learn such things towards others"

You blinked surprised, opening your mouth, ready to ask about it, he already got up, walking off.

"Goodnight Y/N"

"... Goodnight Bill"

★★★★★

You woke up early, ready to make it happen. You'll ask Charles out. Were you terrified? Absolutely. But you were also confident. After last night talk with Bill, you got tot thinking. And you figured, if he does reject you, you'll just make it look like you got shot accidentally on the next mission. No embarrassment if you don't see him again, right?

Either way, either social death or literal death. Both felt almost the same.

You walk out of your tent, going to the campfire to grab some food. You're soar and tired, but it'll go away. You stop when Charles called your name. You turn to him, the familiar nervousness, rush of heart and cold sweat appearing. You smile at him. "Yes?"

"We need to talk" he said, face serious, eyes cold.

And just like that all the confidence, all the energy boost, all the braveness went to hell. Your plan didn't exist anymore. You simply panicked.

Why does he want to talk to you? Did you do something? Your mind quickly rushed through all the possibilities. No, you don't think so... Maybe Bill talked with him, and how he doesn't want to do anything with you? That's high possibility.

Or what if Micah overheard you? Oh, then you'd be dead in everyone's eyes.

Your breathing quickened, chest squeezed, vision becoming blurry. Every bad scenario that could possibly happen was playing through your head.

But then you took a deep breath. Grounding yourself, remembering that nothing happened yet. He just needed to talk. You don't know about what. It might be both good and bad. You just had to stay calm.

Yet you were fucking scared.

★★†★★

You were waiting at the spot you were supposed to meet with Charles. It was further away from the camp, which again striked up the nervousness in you. But maybe it's not that bad. Maybe it's just something he's shy about and only trusts you to tell you about it? So you waited.

You waited a long time. What if it was just to humiliate you? In a second Sean and Javier will jump out from behind the trees, laughing at you. Yet nothing happened. So you waited.

Then came a spark of hope. Maybe he was nervous too? Maybe he did like you and decided to ask you out? He was naturally a shy man, yet you knew he could have a... Wild side. But it made you excited. Brought back the confidence in you. So you waited.

Soon enough, you heard footsteps. You turned there, noticing Charles coming.

"I'm sorry it took so long, Reverend didn't want me to get past without listening to his ballad about whiskey" he sighed as you chuckled.

"Not a problem. You wanted to talk?"

"Talk? Ah, yes..." He nodded. He seems nervous. Score.

"I... Actually wanted to talk about us"

That was enough. Before he could say anything else, you grabbed his collar, pulling down and just kissed him.

His lips were soft, surprisingly well taken care of. They were warm and you could still taste Pearson's stew on them and some morning coffee. But non of those bothered you, not even a bit.

Charles tensed up, surprised, yet raised his hands, placing them on your cheeks. And when you thought he'd kiss back, he softly pushed you away.

And there it is again, that horrible feeling like you'd be about to faint. You looked at him, panicking. Vision blurry again. But then he said something that surprised you.

"I wanted to do it first" he muttered, chuckling awkwardly. You blinked, calming down, then smiling softly. As sweet as always. "But I wanted to tell you about it first"

"Oh- I'm sorry!" You chuckled, embarrassed. You went too quick. But he didn't seem mad, at thankfully.

He then took your hands in his, walking closer to you, looking into your eyes.

"Y/N... You're an amazing man with a sweet soul and a great heart. I've liked you for as long as I remember, and I wanted to thank you for being with me this whole time. But I don't think friends are something I can stand any longer. I want to be something better. Someone more important"

Now, as much as it was sweet, it was greatly surprising. Charles rarely talked about his feelings, let alone people he's sweet on. So... You felt honoured. And touched.

No wonder it took for him so long to come. He was stressed. Maybe even as much as you. Or more.

No, he'd be dead if it was more.

He then pulled you into a warm hug. Holding you close, nuzzling to you.

"Will you go out with me?"

You honestly felt like you could fly. Years of dreaming and begging faith for one chance... And you got it. Now you'll be damned if you screw this up. The plan with "accidentally getting shot" wouldn't sound so bad then.

But you smiled as you looked up to him.

"Gladly"

[rodr1cks]

Hi! I don't know if your request are open, but I'd like to know if you could write a rodrick x reader where the reader is Rowley's sister and discovers her talking on the phone with a friend saying she's in love with Rodrick and tells Greg and he tells her that Rodrick has been in love with her for a long time and they try to put them together?

cw: none it’s pure fluff

word count: 1.8k

“I know! And he didn’t even apologize!” Greg ranted into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, Greg,” Rowley frowned, sympathetic nature as present as always. “Anyways, mom says dinner is ready, see you tonight?” Rowley’s tone lifted at the end of his sentence, excitement brewing as he thought about the sleepover he was meant to have with Greg later that evening.

You slid into the kitchen on your socks, just as Rowley was concluding his conversation with Greg.

Rowley sat anxiously through dinner, quickly consuming everything on his plate, including the vegetables. You observed him from across the table, cocking your head as your younger brother inhaled his peas like he hadn’t eaten in days.

He took his last bite before exclaiming, “I’m going to pack my stuff for Greg’s!”

Not without clearing his dishes first, of course.

You rolled your eyes at his charisma and headed into the living room. You slumped over on the couch, limbs splayed every which way as you called your friend, Marissa. You had been needing to gush to somebody about your newest crush, Rodrick Heffley.

You had only interacted with the messy haired boy in passing: family dinners, picking up Greg, dropping off Rowley, etc.

“I don’t know what it is, he’s just so- so- captivating. God, Mar, I swear I could watch him play drums for hours on end!”

Unbeknownst to you, Rowley had entered the room and was about to speak. You were too caught up in drooling over Rodrick to notice. “Hey, y/n-” He cut himself off quickly, curiosity getting the best of him.

“And did you see what he was wearing at Matt’s party? Those jeans? And that eyeliner? God I could just tear them-”

Rowley cleared his throat, unwilling to hear the rest. “Y/n can you take me to Greg’s, please?” He stood awkwardly with his lips pursed.

Your head whipped around faster than the speed of light. “Marissa, I gotta go.”

“Rowley, how much of that did you hear?”

He lied, something he wasn’t really good at, “Not much! I promise!”

“Rowley Jefferson you had better keep your mouth shut, or I swear I’ll-”

You stopped yourself, closing your eyes and drawing in a deep breath. “Just get in the car.” You breathed out in a scarily calm tone. Your red headed sibling nodded frantically out of fear and darted to the garage.

Usually, you would make him walk, but ever since your infatuation with Rodrick began, you were more eager to give him rides over there. The mere prospect of getting the slightest glance sending excitement throughout your entire being.

When you pulled up to the Heffley home, you gave him a final glare. “Say nothing.” He gave you the same shaky nod he gave you only moments ago. With that, he was bounding towards the front door. You made sure he got inside safely and drove off.

“Rowley? Everything okay?” Greg asked his friend, concerned with his behavior. Rowley couldn’t handle keeping secrets. His hands grew clammy and a slight sweat broke out on his forehead. Rowley had an uncomfortably fake smile plastered on his face as he tried to assure Greg that everything was just peachy.

All it took was one knowing look from Greg and Rowley broke.

“Alright, fine! I heard my sister talking to her friend about how hot Rodrick is and how she wants to-”

“Okay, okay! I get the picture!”

Greg took a moment to proceed, his brows furrowed as he brought a contemplative fist up to support his chin.

“Lemme get this straight. Your sister likes my brother?”

Rowley nodded slowly.

“Y/n likes Rodrick?”

Rowley nodded again, confirming Greg’s exclamations.

“But y/n is smart a-and hot!”

“Greg! Don’t say that!” Rowley groaned, rolling his head back in disgust. Greg threw both of his hands up in defense, “I’m just stating facts.”

“Wait, I have an idea.” A pit of dread grew in Rowley’s stomach, Greg’s ideas never turned out well.

“What if we set up y/n with Rodrick? Just hear me out, this could be good for him.”

Rowley mulled the idea over in his head, thinking that maybe dating you could make Rodrick more… agreeable? Maybe you could be a good influence on the intimidating teenager. A happier Rodrick would make sleepovers at Greg’s a lot more pleasant.

“I think that could work,” Rowley said apprehensively. “But how do we do it?”

Greg shrugged, “Simple, we just tell Rodrick there’s a really hot Girl interested in him.”

The boys proceeded to draw up a plan.

Phase one: The approach. Greg and Rowley nervously ascended the wooden steps that led to Rodrick’s room. Rodrick was laying on his back, spinning a drumstick between his nimble fingers.

He shot up immediately when he noticed the boys’ presence. “What are your dweebs doing up here?”

Phase two: Delivery. “Calm down Rodrick, we have some information you might wanna know,” Greg reasoned cooly, easing Rodrick’s anger from a roaring ten to a mild six.

Greg nodded over at Rowley, signaling him to start talking.

“W-well,” Rowley stuttered, “I uhm- heard my sister talking about you and she- she likes you and she was talking about your jeans?”

Rodrick blinked in confusion, processing this intel.

“Your sister likes me? Are you sure she meant me?”

“That’s what I said!” Greg exclaimed and Rodrick shot him a terrifying glare, silently telling Greg to can it.

Rodrick was honestly shocked. He always observed you from afar, deciding himself that a chick as cool as you would never go for him. This news was absolutely world shattering for the boy, he completely admired you.

Phase three: Action. “We have a plan.” Greg said, a conniving grin creeping onto his face. “Rowley calls y/n, tells her that he’s feeling sick and blames it on Mom’s pot roast or something. Then when she rushes over all worried, you greet her at the door. And then you work your Rodrick magic!” Greg smiled, abundant pride for his plan evident in his stature.

“It’s a go.” Rodrick declared, scrambling around his room to put on deodorant, a new t-shirt, and cologne before pointing at Rowley. “Make the call.”

“Hey, y/n,” Rowley groaned into the phone, sounding as sick as he possibly could. “I- I think I ate something bad and I really need you ro come get me.”

You sighed, telling him you’d be there in ten minutes and to have his things ready to go. You departed for the Heffley house for the second time that night.

When Rowley didn’t come out to your car, you trudged up to the red door to go retrieve the sickly boy.

You gave the door three lazy knocks, expecting Rowley’s face to be the one behind it when it swung open. “Hey kid, are you feeling okay?” You asked, not yet making eye contact with the figure leering in the doorframe.

Your eyes widened as you came to realize who it was.

“Funny seeing you here,” Rodrick drawled out, a smirk tugging at his lips. Your cheeks burned with the heat of one thousand suns, you were not expecting this tonight.

“Y-yeah,” you smiled awkwardly, staring at your feet. “Rowley called, he uhm, he’s not feeling well. So if you could just get him for me I can leave. Immediately.” You cursed yourself for your blubbering idiocy as you twiddled your fingers.

“Actually, Rowley is feeling much, much better.” Suspicion grew as you studied Rodrick’s devious expression. “What’s going on?” You asked, genuinely puzzled as nothing was making any sense.

“I don’t know, y/n. Why don’t you come in and tell me?” Rodrick was surprisingly smooth in this situation, despite his nerves being at an all time high.

“Rowley is just up here,” Rodrick said while guiding you up the stairs to his room. In the meantime, Greg and Rowley peered out from the hallway, watching you follow Rodrick upstairs and giggling to themselves.

The overhead lights in Rodrick’s room were turned on, the glow from his string lights illuminating the area instead. “Mood lighting,” as he had called it. Rodrick had already instructed the boys to stay far away once you had arrived.

You were still lost, Rowley nowhere in sight. “So? Where is he?” You asked expectantly.

“Here’s the thing y/n. You know Rowley can’t keep secrets, right? I mean you have to know that, he is your brother”

Shit.

“That little shit stain! I’ll get him, I swear to god!” You turned to bound down the stairs, ready to tear the entire house apart in hunting for him. Rodrick grabbed your wrist before your foot could even reach the first step.

“Y/n, relax, relax!” His grip on your flesh made your breath hitch and stomach churn. “It’s okay, I feel the same way.” Rodrick’s cocky facade dissipated into nothing as he revealed his feelings.

You got a glimpse of a more vulnerable side of Rodrick that you were sure he didn’t typically share. “But girls like you don’t usually like stupid guys like me,” Rodrick was staring at the ground now, grasp on your arm softening.

You were too unsure of your words so you opted to move your free hand to hold his bicep, closing a considerable amount of distance between the two of you in the process.

“Rodrick, I’ve never liked anybody as much as I like you. And I don’t mean that in a weird or creepy way it’s just that-”

Now it was time for Rodrick’s own addition to the plan. Phase four: The kiss.

Your rambling was cut short by a pair of warm lips pressing against your own. He kissed you with just enough force to cause you to stumble back a bit, causing you to brace yourself against his torso.

He carded a gentle hand through your hair and tugged back on your soft locks. You moaned at the vibrations tendrilling at your scalp and kissed him with even more ferocity.

Somehow, you ended up on his bed, straddling him. The blankets strewn across his mattress melded against your knees and the fronts of your calves as you stabilized yourself on his lap.

He placed apprehensive hands on your hip bones, unsure of what was okay and what wasn’t. You placed your hand on top of his larger one, assuring him that you were comfortable. You even allowed a small whimper to leave your throat as he tightened his hold on you.

You only pulled away to catch your breath, looking into his eyes for the first time that night. You smiled warmly at him as you cupped his cheek. Suddenly, Rodrick’s signature smirk returned to his face.

“Now tell me what you were saying about my jeans.”

[sunflowerharrington]

Dress.

i am so nervous to post this one 🫣 please don’t call the feds! i am so so sorry if i haven’t represented male to female girlies properly but i tried. not one story is the same, and so this is just what i think kyle would do and how she would go about finding herself :)

pairing(s): madison x kyle friendship, kyle x reader relationship

words: 1395

summary: madison and kyle have a little talk. also, these asks;

notes: kyle uses they/them pronouns in the beginning, and then they switch to she/they.

i am not transgender. and i’m genuinely so sorry if this is really bad representation, but i wanted to make anon happy. i really hope i haven’t fucked up again and i understand if you send me hate because of this. i just want to make people happy, not sad 😭

Kyle was laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, with you curled up in a ball against them, your hand on their chest. They blinked once, and then again, and again; it was the only sound in the quiet room other than your soft breathing as you drifted in and out of your slumber.

They were ready.

Kyle lifted the covers off of themself, making sure not to make you cold with their movements, replacing their body with a pillow, which you immediately curled against.

“My p- p…retty, … Pretty Girl,” Kyle cooed, pressing a soft, sloppy kiss to your temple, and you smiled in your sleep, making their heart swell.

Kyle found themself walking over to your mirror, looking themself up and down, in their black sweater and matching black pants. They made a face of disgust at themself, until a thought flashed in their mind. Madison. Her pretty, shiny heels. Her blue dress. Her long, blonde hair. And her pretty makeup.

“Girl… Pretty girl,” Kyle said, slowly, quietly so as to not wake you up.

Their routine went pretty similar to this every Sunday evening; looking at themself in the mirror until they cried. They just didn’t feel… right. Nothing felt right to them. Their body, their mindset, their everything.

It had been going on for a while now, approximately five months, and you just thought it was your partner doing what partners do; stealing their girlfriend’s clothes as a memory. But it was so much more, so much more complex than that. To Kyle anyways.

They didn’t know how to handle their feelings, or how when they looked down at themself, they didn’t feel right, or beautiful. Even your countless reassurances couldn’t stop Kyle from feeling like they were… In the wrong body, to put it bluntly.

And so they found themself rooting through your drawers as you slept, finally working up enough courage to hold clothes which were supposedly meant for girls only in their hands, grinning at the garments.

They held the dress up to their body in the mirror, before stripping down as quietly and fast as they could, pulling the dress on in the way they saw you wearing it. Or the way they remembered. Kyle gazed in awe at the silver sparkles glittering on the sheer dress from the overhead light in your shared bedroom, and it made them feel powerful. Beautiful. A surge of serotonin shot through them, and they beamed, twirling once around in the mirror, watching the patterns on the wall move as they moved, the sequins bouncing light onto the walls.

“Pretty… girl. N- not… a… boy…”

Kyle couldn’t contain the smile growing on their face, and they slipped their own clothes back on over your dress, wanting to wear it for the rest of the day. Wanting to feel beautiful, just like their pretty girl.

A knock on the door startled them, though they breathed a sigh of relief when they saw that it was Cordelia. They fixed the collar of their shirt, hiding the sparkles beneath it, gulping unintentionally loudly as she came towards them. And they tried to act like nothing was wrong.

In their mind what they were doing was wrong.

“Is Y/N asleep?” Cordelia asked softly, pointing over to your resting body, and Kyle frantically nodded, their heart beating wildly in their chest.

“S- Sleeping,” they said, and thankfully Cordelia left shortly after that, giving Kyle a perfect smile as she departed.

Kyle resumed twirling around in the mirror, the way they saw Misty doing it the other night, looking at the shiny patterns the sequins on your dress made on the wall as they moved, after they had opened their shirt again.

From downstairs they could hear that Madison and Nan had arrived back from ‘terrorizing’ the Karen next door with the cute son, Luke, or something. Kyle never caught his name properly, and even if they did, they probably wouldn’t remember.

“There are clothes everywhere in here, Y/N!” Madison scoffed as she entered the room, stopping to look at Kyle, who had frozen in place. “Silver is not your colour, Barbie doll. Try blue, …it’ll bring out your eyes.”

Kyle’s mouth fell open in shock; she wasn’t at all mad that Kyle was wearing one of her dresses? Her most prized possessions? Madison wasn’t mad that they were wearing so-called “girl’s” clothes?

“M- M- Madison?”

Madison sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned around. “What, Kyle?”

“Y- you’re… not mad… at… me?” The words barely came out, almost mouthing the words to her, and Madison smiled. It was one of the first times Kyle saw Madison smile.

“I’m mad that you’d have the nerve to wear a silver dress and orange converse together. And I’m mad that you didn’t just ask me, let’s go shopping for some new clothes for you later? I'm sure Fiona won’t mind if I snatch her credit card for a while.”

Kyle was shell shocked, gobsmacked that Madison wasn’t angry at them. Kyle finally closed their mouth, and followed Madison over to where she was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“Ugh, why is she always sleeping? Y/N, wake up!”

“N-no,” Kyle said, moving to cover Madison’s mouth with her hand. “Y-Y-Y/N… not know… Thinks I’m… Boy.”

Madison nodded, whispering a quiet “sorry” to her, before getting up and leaving the room.

She came back a minute later with a small black vanity bag, filled with some items Kyle recognized from when she was sleeping in Madison’s room at first. Makeup.

“Come here, let me do something for you.”

She opened her bag and sat down opposite Kyle, brushing glittery colours of eyeshadow on the girl’s eyelids, expertly drawing on some black eyeliner and adding fake lashes and mascara. Kyle scrunched up her nose, the brush tickling her skin, though she looked up at Madison with wide eyes, watching the witch in amazement.

Madison’s lips pulled up into a smirk as she pulled away from Kyle, finishing off Kyle’s makeup with some red tinted lip gloss. Madison tucked a strand of Kyle’s blonde hair behind her ear, holding up a mirror to her. Seeing herself with makeup on was weird, but exciting at the same time, and she couldn’t help letting out the loudest squeal of surprise and happiness.

“Pretty…”

In an instant Madison got to her feet and pulled Kyle up with her, closing her shirt buttons. Then she pulled Kyle out of the room and down the hall to where Zoe, Nan and Queenie were arguing about something.

Some Supreme shit, or whatever.

“Move, losers. We’re doing a fashion show!” Madison yelled, pushing past the three girls, leading a still shocked Kyle to her room.

Madison went through her wardrobe, flinging clothes and shoes all around the room, searching for something perfect for Kyle. And then she found it; the blue dress from the party. She pushed back all of the terrible, horrible memories from that night and handed the dress to Kyle. “Try this.”

Kyle nodded, stripping out of her clothes, pulling the stretchy blue fabric up her legs and torso. Madison leaned against the wall, watching the blonde beauty from afar, who was twirling around in a circle again, looking at her body from all angles in the vibrant blue dress.

“I saw it from the first moment I looked at you after Wednesday Addams brought you back to life… And I saw it when we went shopping not too long ago… You were looking at that one beautiful necklace, and those red sparkly shoes you couldn’t take your eyes off, even when we were leaving the store,” Madison said as she walked over to Kyle to zip up the back of the dress, running her hands down Kyle’s chest, smiling up at her. She chuckled before adding, “and Zoe and I had to practically drag you out.”

Madison laughed, as did Kyle, and the two girls turned to look at themselves in Madison’s mirror. Kyle smiled at herself, blinking, the tips of her false eyelashes tickling her skin. And she felt pretty, for once in her life. Even all through college she never felt like herself, and she could never embrace her feminine side with all of the frat boy assholes around her. But now she could. And she was happier than she had ever been before.

taglist: @quickiesgirl @sympathyforher @unlivingdreams @xxlangdon @langdon-cumslut

want to be added? let me know x

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light: Chapter 43.5

Notes: So when I posted last week I realised a few hours later that I hadn’t posted the whole chapter! So, here you go. An early, albeit short, update. Thanks as usual to my beta @noirshadow, who is incredibly patient with all my E&L ramblings and makes sure my writing actually makes sense!

Chapter 43.5

Nesta

Cold air snapped at Nesta’s body as Sala flew her to Lorrian and Frawley’s. Cassian travelled behind her, trailing her path, the beat of his wings grating on her until she wanted to scream. 

Of course, he hadn’t let her fly alone. He’d had to make sure that she was safe. That bond again, dictating his desires. Nesta didn’t understand why he couldn’t see that.

By the time she landed, Nesta had whipped herself into a fury that was frantic in its making—quivering with an energy that made her want to roar and sob until she was consumed with it.

“You’ve done your job,” she spat at Cassian, as he landed softly on his feet beside her with a neat retraction of his wings. “Now leave me alone.

They had landed just before the pine trees of the Eastern Steppes, where the forest decided to part for its witch and her home. The pine needles blocked out the sparkling stars above, casting the forest into smudgy shadows that made it near impossible for Nesta to pick her way across the ground, despite her fae eyesight. 

When she stumbled, Cassian flared his magic to light the way but, thankfully, he did not dare reach for her. Loose roots and fallen branches created obstacles underfoot, but Nesta let her body tackle them blindly until she cleared the tree line and suddenly she could see again.

Nesta picked up her pace, storming along the paddock fence as the cottage came into view. The building’s shape was blanketed by a coal-night hue, save for the buttery light that fogged around Lorrian and Frawley’s bedroom window. Besides the smoke puffing from the chimney, the night was alarmingly still, as if had taken in a gasping breath in anticipation of what was to unfold beneath it. 

The absence of Illyria’s fierce wind in Nesta’s anger felt foreign and infuriating, so Nesta walked faster, creating her own breeze. But the soft caress against her cheeks rather than the hurricane she longed for only served to sharpen the blade of her anger until it was lethal.

“Running away again,” Cassian growled from close behind her, his resolve to stay silent clearly breaking as Nesta stormed past the paddock entrance. He caught her wrist with a leather-clad hand and Nesta’s body jerked backwards as she was pulled towards him. 

“Why are you fighting this?” he asked as she snarled at him with such savagery it sounded like a wild animal. His voice cracked like ice over a river. “Why are you fighting something that I know makes you happy. I can make you happy, Nesta.”

“Stop it,” Nesta cut back, the slash in her voice a warning just as much as her words. Because Cassian sounded so agonisingly sad it bruised her lungs, every breath coiled with pain. 

“I’m not letting go,” Cassian told her, and they both knew the meaning was figurative as well as literal as he searched her face for something that would tell him to stay. “You can shout and scream and bite all you want, but you are not running away from me again. Not this time.”

Go home, Cassian.

“I don’t need someone to make me happy,” Nesta spat. “I can be happy independently of you.”

“You can have both.”

A cold, cruel laugh bubbled out of her. “Is that what you tell yourself every day when you pretend you can wear me down? Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing? That you’re hoping I’ll give in and accept a bond I have explicitly told you I do not want?”

Cassian didn’t let go of her. Instead, he pushed her hand back to her as if it disgusted him to hold onto her. Nesta caught how his black hair sifted, the strands shining in the starlight, just before she turned her back to him.

It wasn’t too late to catch the curl of his lip and the way hurt seized the green and brown of his eyes. “You think I lie to myself? Nesta, you pull the wool over your eyes every damn day!” The last three words were staccato, thudding after her as she all but spirited away from him on a storm wind. “You have wanted me since you met me. Admit it. You want me and I want you. It’s simple. It’s all simple if you’d just stop fighting—”

The audacity to insinuate that Nesta’s feelings were inconsequential was too much. It hurt more than anything else Cassian had ever said, the rest of his barbs merely needles to this blade. Because none of what was between them was simple. It was a tangled web of terror and confusion and a desperate need Nesta did not understand.

The ignorance—the implied slight at her intelligence—had Nesta whirling, cutting Cassian off mid-sentence. Magic thundered through her veins, her power barrelling to her palms. She had to expel it—had to let it out like a curdling scream. Without thinking, she flung out her hands.

Nesta’s magic flew, roaring silver flames closing the distance between them. All she cared about was making Cassian recoil when her fire sizzled into nothing millimetres from his face. All she needed to see was the froth of his anger as it finally boiled over and met hers. 

But Cassian moved quicker than Nesta had ever seen him. Red light shot from his siphons but this time there was no shield like there had been all of those months ago. Magic barrelled from his chest, his shoulders, his knees, the backs of his hands to meet hers—all of that magnificent power channelled towards her. 

Scarlet and silver lit up the clearing, bathing their surroundings like glistening blood. Nesta braced herself for the slamming impact, expected for them to both be thrown backwards, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, her body was seized with a sudden vigour—like a wonderful, gasping breath. And their magic… it didn’t clash. No, their jets of power melded together, silver meeting red until it formed a smooth running stream. It glimmered, quiet and calm in contrast, like the calm and tranquil night sky.

It felt right and wonderful and infuriating. Even Nesta’s magic was betraying her. Even her power couldn’t help but want him, even when she was incandescent with rage for the warrior before her.

Unleashing a growl of anger, Nesta dropped her hands in defeat. They hung at her sides, a useless deadweight. She was panting hard, even though what she’d just done hadn’t exerted her—it had been easy and right and thrilling, as if she’d just woken up from a very long sleep.

For a moment, there was only silence. Cassian’s chest was heaving, his hair as wild as hers. His hands were still outstretched towards her, each and every one of his siphons activated and glowing. Like her, he was staring wide-eyed at the magic that hung overhead like a mist, their very own canvas of stars.

When his eyes flicked to hers, the shock in them was still stark. In fact, Nesta could have sworn she spied terror in them. He stepped forward—her Cassian—but Nesta stepped back. A disgruntled growl rumbled in the back of his throat, and then he was striding towards her before she could even think about moving away from him. Stopped when he was a breath away from her.

Pine and musk wound around her body in an invisible embrace and Nesta’s face crumpled at the familiarity of it. She wished she was curled up beside Cassian in bed, her limbs tangled in his, her nose buried in his neck. She wished she’d never challenged him for answers in the bedroom earlier. Wished she was still living in blissful ignorance.  

Two calloused hands came to frame her face and Nesta couldn’t find the will to shake them off. Couldn’t. 

“Nesta,” Cassian rasped.

Nesta managed to shake her head. Go away. Please.

Cassian’s expression broke even as it remained still. Nesta didn’t understand how, but it did. It was something behind his eyes—the faint flicker of his eyebrows as they dipped in and out of a frown. 

But Cassian didn’t drop his hands from her cheeks, as if he knew she didn’t really want him to leave her. Brushed his thumbs over her cheeks—wiping away the tracks of fury that had fallen from the corners of her eyes.

“Do you want me or not?” Cassian asked quietly, after a long while. His eyes searched into her silver eyes—pierced her soul. Flames danced in the reflection of his irises. And Nesta knew that this was taking everything for him to ask it out loud. “Do you want me, Nesta?”

Run, run, run, the Cauldron mused in Nesta’s head, as it cast that sleepy eye on her. 

Nesta shrugged out of Cassian’s embrace. Her movements were syrupy, as if the air around her had thickened, but still she managed to turn. Her entire body was shaking—whether it was from that leftover rage, or because her heart was breaking, Nesta wasn’t sure.

A sob heaved through her body but Nesta caught it before she made a sound. She couldn’t let Cassian see it. Couldn’t let him know how much she was affected by him. 

Slowly, Nesta walked to the cottage. She was still coated in Cassian’s magic, his scent on her tongue both divine and hellish. And that alone made her want to cry even more. It served as a reminder that she was constantly at war with herself. This battle that had been thrust upon her, chaining her free will and making her question everything.

“Leave me alone,” Nesta ordered flatly, without looking behind her.

Nesta didn’t know why she expected Cassian to stay. To fight. But the sound of beating wings filled Nesta’s ears just as she reached the backdoor. It felt as if someone had closed a fist around her heart, squeezing and squeezing until the blood ran dry and veins popped under the pressure. 

Frawley was waiting at the threshold, her expression grim. The witch held the door open in invitation.

But Nesta paused. Turned back to the paddock.

Cassian was gone.

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[miyanom]

DEVILS PARADISE (part one)

MASTERLIST | JEAN KIRSTEIN X FEM!READER

synopsis: growing up in marley, y/n learnt the devils of paradis are her greatest enemy. though they shared the blood running through her veins, their mere existence led to constant discrimination against y/n’s people. knowing all of this, y/n enlists in the marleyan warrior program; a program designed to turn eldians like herself into titan shifters. however, joining the program leads y/n to the devil’s paradise, and she realises the truth marley so desperately hid from them.

warnings: spoilers for season 4, blood and violence. reader has hair long enough to be tied up, but only in a flashback.

notes: i’m leaning toward this being a 5 part series at most with jean as the love interest, but i’m not too sure, it might be shorter or longer than that!

word count: 2506

"When you become a Marleyan Warrior, you'll make all of us proud here in Liberio, Y/N." Her mother spoke, pulling the child's hair back as she tied it with a crimson red ribbon. "You'll show them that we aren't like those island devils."

Her mother spoke with disgust as she mentioned the Eldian devils of Paradis. By now, Y/N knew to keep silent and agree with her mother about everything.

"You'll become one of the Warriors for me, won't you, Y/N?" She glanced down at her daughter, a stern expression on her face.

Y/N nodded her head, smiling up at her mother. "Of course."

It was a decision completely out of Y/N's hands, she could only train as hard as she could and hope for the best. But in her mother's eyes, the best just wasn't good enough. It was never good enough.

Looking back, Y/N could hear the words "this is the only way" repeating in her head over and over again until she began to agree with it too.

The only way for the Marleyans to see her family as just a little bit more human, was if Y/N were to become one of the warriors.

Earning that red band and becoming honorary Marleyans was the only way to be happy.

Y/N leaned against the wall of the courtyard her and the others in her Warrior training unit were waiting in. The tip of her shoe digging into the ground in front of her as she stayed buried within her thoughts.

With the previous warriors terms coming to an end, she had heard from the army that she was a prime candidate for one of the Titans, it was almost guaranteed at this point considering the Warrior unit had been narrowed down to the 8 of them.

But soon, one of them would be left behind, while the others are turned to Titan shifters.

“Did you guys hear? We’re attacking Paradis Island in just a few years,” Zeke spoke from where he was sitting, before chucking an apple in Marcel’s direction.

“Huh?” Y/N breathed out, raising her head to look over at the older man.

“It’s almost time for us to inherit Titans,” Zeke continued. “Out of the eight of us, they’re picking seven!”

Y/N looked back at the ground for a moment, the 10 year old’s shoulders becoming stiff. Yes, she was almost guaranteed to receive a Titan, but if something happened and she failed to earn the title of honorary marleyan’s for her family…

“Yes! I can finally be Marleyan!” Reiner spoke excitedly.

“Huh? Why so excited?” Porco glanced over at him. “If anyone’s the worst, it’s you.”

Reiner’s head snapped in the boy’s direction, his hands clenched into fists. “Excuse me?!”

“What’s your strong point?” Porco continued. “Your strength? Your brains? Your aim? Combat ability? Nope. The only value they see in you is your loyalty to Marley.”

Y/N kept her gaze off the two boys, knowing Porco was right. The only thing that made Reiner appealing to Marley was his unrelenting loyalty.

One day, that wouldn’t be enough.

“I’ll slaughter the island devils real good for you, sir!” Porco mocked.

Reiner stepped forward, grabbing Porco’s wrist, causing the boy to drop the apple he was holding. “You making fun of our mission?! Or maybe you’re a stray Restorationist?! You are, aren’t you?! I’ll report you to the Commander!”

“Report this, you little shit!”

When Y/N finally lifted her head, Reiner was already on the ground. And Marcel was holding his brother back from attacking the boy again.

“Hating the island doesn’t make you special!” Porco told him. “Have fun waiting 13 years alone!”

Knocking his brother away, Porco began to storm off, causing Zeke to finally stand up. “Let’s go, Pieck, Y/N.” He spared a quick glance at the girls standing near him.

Pieck, older by just a few small years, was much like a sister to Y/N. Looking out for her during their time in the program despite the fact they were possibly competing for a place.

The raven haired girl took Y/N’s hand, gently pulling her along to follow after Zeke. It was a habit Pieck had taken up after noticing Y/N’s tendency to space out when things got too quiet.

“Don’t cry too long or the Commander will chew me out,” Zeke called back to Reiner, who remained in the dirt.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder as Pieck continued to pull her along, her eyes falling onto Reiner as Bertholdt helped him onto his feet.

Becoming a Warrior was a privilege, Y/N knew that. But why would anyone want to shorten their life to a 13 year term dedicated to fighting Marley’s enemies?

Y/N didn’t want to die in 13 years, she’d rather take the hatred from Marley for the rest of her life, like many others had done before her.

If she had a choice, that was exactly what she would do. But it was too late now.

In a few years, she would be an official Marleyan Warrior, headed for the devil’s island to attack their self imposed century long quarantine.

Y/N’s eyes flickered up to the sky, as a bird flew overhead leaving her to wonder what the island devils were doing in this moment.

Did they really deserve what was coming?

The weeks leading up to Y/N being sent to Paradis all passed by in a blur, whether it was the shock of finally being an honorary Marleyan or the memories of the former host that kept her awake at night, Y/N wasn’t sure.

All she knew was that she was on Paradis Island, headed with Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt and Marcel to break through the wall that kept the devils safe from the Titans Marley had filled the island with over the past century.

Did they really deserve what was coming? Did they deserve it? Did they-

“Y/N, can you?” Bertholdt held the can in Y/N’s direction as he whispered.

Y/N carefully took the unopened can of food from his shaky hands, peeling it open before handing it back. She had been doing it for him the past few nights, his hands too shaky to even open a simple can as it came closer and closer to the day he would kick through the wall.

It couldn’t be easy being the successor for the Colossal Titan, a god of death.

“You alright?” Y/N questioned quietly, taking note of the fear in his eyes.

Bertholdt quickly averted his gaze, letting out a hum as he nodded his head.

He was always quiet like this, and Y/N found it oddly calming. It was a nice difference when compared to the louder members of their unit back in Marley.

It was nice because it reminded her of Pieck, who had stayed behind with Zeke to protect Marley while the others attacked Paradis.

“We didn’t cover much ground tonight,” Marcel commented as he poked at the fire with a stick.

“Can’t do much about the clouds.”

“Will the King really not use the Founding Titan, even if we break the wall?” Bertholdt asked, remembering what they had been told in preparation for their mission.

“What’s the use asking now?” Reiner glanced at him. “Trust Marley’s research.”

Y/N stares at the fire in front of her, one hand coming up to rest against her forearm, right where the material band showing her status would be sitting if she were back in Marley.

It felt weird to not have that constant reminder that she was nothing but Titan shifting scum.

“That’s right. We can’t turn back,” Marcel nodded. “Tomorrow, we reach the wall… and then…”

Y/N remained silent, a shaky breath falling from her lips. Right, tomorrow they would be breaking through the Wall. They’d come face to face with the people they were sent to kill.

It’s not like they haven’t done it before, they were sent to destroy an enemy base as part of their Titan training.

But those people had been actively trying to harm Marley… the devils hadn’t done that in over a century.

Reiner’s eyes scanned the group, a shocked expression painted over his face. “Huh? What? Are you having second thoughts about killing the devils? Have you forgotten what they’ve done?!”

Y/N hugged her legs close to her chest, refusing to look in Reiner’s direction or answer his question.

It was impossible to forget the sins of the Eldians, it had been drilled into their heads for years now, after all.

Reiner stood up quickly. “We’re the world’s chosen Warriors sent to punish the island devils!”

Marcel averted his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?”

“Reiner, I’m sorry. You were never meant to be chosen as a Warrior,” Marcel continued.

Y/N’s head shot in the boy’s direction, her eyes widened. She couldn’t say it was a surprise, no, Reiner was the weakest of the warriors in their unit.

Maybe it was a shock?

Marcel’s voice came out like it hurt him to finally admit it. “I talked you up and criticised my brother to influence their decision. I… just want to protect my brother.”

Tears began to fall from his eyes. “I’m sorry, Reiner… I’m sorry!”

Y/N turned to see Reiner’s frozen form, unmoving and engulfed by shock— it was the same thing he did when he watched Marcel get eaten by a Titan.

Frozen, unmoving, and engulfed by shock.

Y/N could still hear Marcel’s screaming, as the other warriors ran for their lives.

Her chest felt heavy as they finally came to a stop, her knees giving out beneath her as she fell to the grass. Teardrops falling against her clenched fists.

How long had she been crying for?

She couldn’t tell, not when she was too focused on escaping the mindless titan that devoured Marcel before their very eyes.

She choked back the sob that threatened to fall from her lips as she realised what they had done; they could’ve saved Marcel, they should’ve saved Marcel, but they ran.

And they lost the Jaw Titan.

Marley was going to kill them, they weren’t even going to reach the end of their 13 year term. They were going to die for failing the mission before even reaching the walls.

Would it even be worth it if they came back with the Founding Titan but not the Jaw Titan? They’d still be left with the same number as before.

Y/N’s eyes widened when she felt a hand press against her back, though she relaxed just slightly as she realised it was Bertholdt.

He looked just as terrified as her.

As Annie caught up to the group, she immediately kicked Reiner, causing the boy to start screaming as he moved away in fear.

“Not bad,” Annie spoke, her voice coming out almost breathlessly from the running. “This is a first. You actually beat me… in a long distance race…”

Y/N wiped her tears away as she pushed herself up, looking back in the direction they had come from.

“If we took out that Titan we wouldn’t have lost Jaw,” Annie told Reiner. “Shit! Now Marcel’s gone for good.”

“They said there wouldn’t be Titans this far out,” Reiner whispered.

“We’ve gotta go home,” Annie averted her gaze. “Let’s find Jaw and leave. They would’ve changed back to human. Besides, without Marcel to lead, this mission is doomed.”

“Do you… do you think they’ll just come willingly?” Y/N breathed out, still trying to catch her breath.

Though just as Y/N moved to follow Annie, Reiner began to yell. “We can’t!”

Y/N turned around, her eyes widening as Reiner held his outstretched hand in their direction. “We can’t go home! We’ve gotta continue the mission!”

“Oh, yeah…” Annie’s eyes narrowed in his direction for a moment. “If we go back now, you’ll just get eaten by the next Warrior.”

Reiner began nodding his head.

Y/N looked away from the boy, biting her trembling lip gently. Porco was the next warrior… he would see Reiner’s memories, see his brother getting eaten…

“You think only I will?” Reiner spoke up, causing the other three to turn back to him. “That only I’ll get the blame for running away? You guys are certain you won’t get eaten, too?”

Y/N swallowed the lump forming in the back of her dried throat, an uneasy feeling returning to the pit of her stomach as she stared at Reiner’s grim face.

“Catching Jaw won’t be easy either. If they used its power and ran, our titans could never catch up.”

“They can’t control it right after becoming-”

“You controlled the Colossal Titan, no problem!” Reiner cut Bertholdt off. “Anyways, we’re doomed at this rate! Without the Founding Titan, there’s no going home!”

He was right, Y/N realised. None of them could catch up with the Jaw Titan, and if they returned empty handed, they would all die.

“Back there, if you were a fraction as calm as you are now, we wouldn’t have lost Marcel or Jaw,” Annie stated. “But you’ve got no problem intimidating us to save your own ass, huh?!”

Walking back toward Reiner, she let out a shout as she kicked the boy in the face, sending him flying backward onto the ground.

“How about you come clean to Magath?! Tell him, “it’s all my fault!” Honorary Marleyan, my ass!” She shouted, continually kicking him over and over again. “Chosen warrior, my ass! Marleyans, Eldians! They’re all liars! Everyone only thinks about themselves!”

Y/N remained silent, knowing Annie was right. The predicament they were in now could’ve been avoided had Reiner remained calm back then.

Marcel died saving him, after all.

If Reiner had just sucked it up, if he just didn’t let what Marcel said get to him, they would’ve been long gone before the Titan even woke up from its slumber.

“Should we… should we stop her?” Bertholdt glanced at Y/N.

Y/N stared at Annie who kept kicking Reiner in her anger, before she looked to Bertholdt and shook her head. “Annie’s right.”

“If you feel guilty, just die! Take all the blame and die!”

With that, Annie began to walk away, leaving Reiner face first on the ground, blood pooling on the grass beneath his face.

A perk of being a Titan shifter was that they could all heal from wounds like that.

Y/N’s eyes widened as Reiner pushed himself up, jumping at Annie and holding her in a headlock. “Reiner is dead,” he spoke. “If we need Marcel, then I’ll be Marcel.”

Y/N’s throat went dry once more as she stared at Reiner in fear, her hands shaking at her sides.

“Please, stop this…” Bertholdt muttered, tears falling from his eyes as he watched.

“This is the only way we’ll be able to go back home!” Reiner kept his grip on Annie. “Let’s go back… together… to our hometown!”

[thatslikely]

Detention - D.M.

Detention- Draco Malfoy x fem!reader (gryffindor)

Warnings: none!  just more fluff <3

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: A fun Draco fic with an enemies to lovers type of situation!  I’m really happy with how this one turned out and I hope you guys enjoy it too!  I’m definitely going to make a Seeker part 2 so don’t worry, but I also have a George Weasley x Reader idea in the works too!  Please feel free to send me your feedback (and you can always send me an ask or message for the taglist).

Just a Reminder: Y/N is Your Name 

----

“Detention!  For both of you!” Professor McGonagall’s voice rang loudly through her office.  The countless living paintings that speckled the candle-lit stone walls shook at her declaration.  

She disappointedly looked at you before marking your name on a piece of parchment that lay on the desk in front of her.  You felt guilty that you had forced your favorite professor (and the head of your house) to give you a detention.  Especially detention in the Forbidden Forest with none other than Draco Malfoy. 

You couldn’t even bear to look at the pouting Slytherin’s face beside you.  It was his fault that you now had to spend your Saturday night roaming through the eerie trees of the Dark forest.  If he hadn’t snatched your Charms essay mid-sentence then maybe you wouldn’t have shot a hex in his direction!  Fortunately for him, however, your clever hex missed the mischievous Malfoy by a single blonde hair, and now poor Neville’s shoes are glued to the worn hardwood floors of the library.    

Your forest escort arrived promptly.  You were thankful Filch was busy with other duties, so one of your Gryffindor prefects was chosen instead.  McGonagall sent your prefect a nod and as he signaled for the two of you to follow him, you finally made eye contact with Malfoy, shooting him a murderous glare.  He quickly responded with a scowl before walking out the door and into the familiar hall towards the forest.  

After several minutes of awkward silence, the three of you finally reached the inviting entrance of Hagrid’s hut.  The warm glow emitting through the windows of the stone shack contrasted greatly against the clear, pitch-black sky.   

Judging by the disgusted expression on Malfoy’s face, it was clear that he wasn’t fond of the half-giant or his home.  Maybe Hagrid would be a little sympathetic for your cause, and you could get away early.  

After a few moments, Hagrid emerged from his hut, a homemade wooden crossbow strung across his chest and a woven basket in hand.  Fang sat lazily at his side, drool dripping from his snout.  The groundskeeper tiredly said, “Tonight, you two’ll be searchin’ in the forest for some knotgrass.  Once this basket ‘ere is full, yer free to go.” 

Draco begrudgingly took the woven basket from Hagrid’s large hands with an eye roll.  Shortly after a bit more detailed instructions from Hagrid, you and the blonde reluctantly embarked towards the winding dirt path leading into the woods.  The only thing illuminating your late-night journey was the pearly full moon overhead and the small beams of light emitting from the ends of your wands.

You two walked through the spooky trees in silence, annoyed looks plastered on your faces.  Once the both of you had been walking around with the irritatingly empty basket for a while, you finally asked with a grimace, “Do you even know what knotgrass looks like?”  

“Of course, I know what knotgrass looks like.  Do you take me for an idiot?  Do I even have to remind you that I’m top of the class for Potions?” he spat, defensive and rude.  

“How is your expansive Potions knowledge going to help us here in the middle of the Forbidden Forest?  It’s your fault I’m even here in the first place!” 

“My fault?  Says the girl who nearly killed me after I so much as glanced at your pitiful Charms essay!  You’re a bloody psycho!”  His over-exaggerated recounting of what happened in the library would surely be a hit with his Slytherin worshippers, but not with you.   

Instead of disputing his accusations, you tore the straw basket from his ring-adorned hands, hissing, “Fine.  If I’m so insane, just leave me alone and let me collect it myself!”  You turned the opposite direction, speeding up your pace, leaving Malfoy alone in the dark. 

Draco stood, mouth agape, for a moment before quickly dashing up behind you, grabbing hold of your wrist.  “Where do you think you’re going.  I’m not gonna die in this stupid forest because of you!  Give me that basket.”  

He spun you around to face him, his grip on your wrist as tight as ever.  His hand was cold and strong; the silver snake rings that wrapped around his fingers dug into your skin.  You looked up into his captivating silver eyes, and for the first time, you didn’t see pure malice.  The starlight made his eyes shine nicely, which you hated to admit.

Your gazes were interlocked for a few electric seconds, which felt like hours, before Draco raised his eyebrows in shock, realizing how close his face had gotten to yours.  In one swift motion, he freed your arm from his grasp, and the basket was now in his control.  He awkwardly turned away from you, simultaneously wiping his palm up and down his black robe.  You caught a quick glance of his face, which was a pronounced shade of pink, visible even in the dim moonlight. 

You noticed your breaths became heavier, and your cheeks were scorching hot.  What just happened? you thought, why did that feel so… strange?  Nothing should’ve felt different.  It was just another irritating interaction with your Slytherin enemy.  He’s just the same old spoiled brat.  

You tried to get the intrusive thoughts of your strange interaction with Draco out of your head by focusing on finding the elusive plant.  You weren’t too sure what it was supposed to look like, so after minutes of searching, you were left with a fistful of mismatched stems and leaves.  

Once you couldn’t hold any more of the mismatched plants you had collected, you silently stepped behind the bent over Draco, reaching down to dump the stems in the basket which he firmly grasped at his side.

Draco, who was lost in thought, didn’t realize you were right behind him until a loud twig cracked right under your shoe as you were mere inches from the back of his head and the basket.  

Frightened by the sudden noise, he hastily turned around with his hawthorn wand ready.  Only, instead of being face to face with a rabid werewolf, his elbow was met harshly with your nose. You immediately recoiled from the Slytherin with a roaring yelp.  You instinctively reached for your nose, where blood was slowly dripping out and onto the ground. Great.  

While you were tilting your head back to alleviate the blood flow, Draco stared at you dumbfounded.  The situation at hand eventually sunk in, and he ran to your side, his hand on your shoulder, concernedly.  After you groaned in annoyance for a few seconds he asked, “Are you okay?”

You cocked an eyebrow, taken aback by his oddly sympathetic question.  He quickly realized the tone of what he said, withdrawing his hand from your shoulder.  With a significantly icier tone, he said, “You should’ve been more careful, Y/N.”  

You embarrassedly turned away from Draco, ready to wipe off your blood-coated hands on your robe when you felt a timid tap on your shoulder.  Draco stretched his arm to you, a white silk handkerchief with the initials D. L. M. embroidered in emerald green between his fingers.  He kept his head turned sharply away from you, his nose in a scrunch. 

You eyed his handsome punchable face suspiciously before you slowly accepted the handkerchief.  Before you put it to your nose, you bluntly stated, “I’ll get blood on it, you know.”

“I’m not stupid, I know that.  I gave you my cheap one, so keep it.  Don’t want your filthy germs anyway.”  

“You’re lucky I haven’t hexed your brains out yet,” you said with a sly smile.   

He mimed himself looking mockingly scared at your comment, but a satisfactory smile soon crept onto his face at the sight of your nose softly pressed into the ivory silk.  He was probably just glad to not hear you complain anymore.

----

The basket was nearly full of what you hoped were knotgrass stems, though it seemed your “expert Potions student” also couldn’t pinpoint the plants.  Both of you had also grown very tired, out for what was probably hours.  At long last, Draco plucked one final handful of leaves, making the basket full enough to your standards.  You and Draco simultaneously let out a sigh of relief, finally being done with this grueling punishment.  

Normally, post-detention, you would attempt to send Draco some of the Weasley twin’s dangerous concoctions for extra revenge, but he was being abnormally kind to you tonight, in his own Malfoy way.  Plus, this night had taken a huge toll on you both; you don’t even know if you had the energy to still be mad at him.

The two of you slowly trudged back to Hagrid’s, a joyful feeling in your chest since this strange night was finally over.  As you continued down the dimly-lit path, the platinum blonde who was previously at your side was nowhere to be seen.  You assumed he had snuck up ahead, ready to jump out at you from behind one of the towering black trees.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d try to scare the hell out of you, to say the least. 

You kept following the path, your eyes darting around at every noise.  You were on high alert for your Slytherin rival, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of scaring you.  The further down you went without seeing Draco though, the more nervous you got.  Not just for the possibility of him scaring you, but for his safety.  You’d heard so many horror stories about the Forbidden Forest you could probably write a book.  

Finally, you mustered the courage to call for Draco.  You repeatedly yelled “Draco!”, slightly louder every time you didn’t receive a response.  Now you were really worried.  He was your sworn enemy, sure, but you didn’t want him dead in the forest.

After more minutes of shouting and worrying, you heard some rustling around you.  “Draco?  Try and scare me!  Don’t think I won’t hesita-”

You were quickly cut off by the noise you dreaded the most: the piercing howl of a werewolf.  You, and seemingly the whole forest, froze within an instant.  You rapidly placed your hand over your mouth, hoping that even your breaths couldn’t be heard.   

Your thoughts immediately went to Draco, alone in the forest, with a werewolf on the prowl.  While you should have been much more worried about yourself in such a vulnerable position, the blonde Slytherin couldn’t seem to leave your brain.  

Your head was so clouded with Draco that you didn’t pay attention to the sound of claw-steps growing closer to you by the second.  By the time you realized that you should shoot some crimson sparks up for help, a loud and intimidating growl emitted from the shrubbery right in front of you.

Without hesitation, you bolted away from the bushes as fast as your feet would take you.  You couldn’t get far though, as the silver, moonlight-drenched werewolf stood ahead of you once again, this time on full display.

Its sharp, horrendous fangs resembled the pointed stalactites of underground caves; its violent yellow eyes were a match for Hufflepuff robes, though Hufflepuffs were probably slightly less vicious.  

The werewolf stared at you, almost mockingly.  The snarl of its mouth could almost be described as a smirk, similar to the one which your blonde detention-mate often wore.  Your final thoughts before death at the hands of a werewolf would be, of all things, Draco. 

The werewolf reared its arm back, ready to claw you to death, and a single tear ran down your face.  It was too late to run, too late to hide, too late to do anything but die.  

Draco Malfoy, however, had other plans.  He bolted between you and the werewolf, rapidly pointing his wand out at the beast.  He yelled “Stupify!” at the top of his lungs, his voice hoarse and his lungs out of breath.  

You were too shocked by Draco’s sudden reappearance and act of heroism to notice the protective and caring grasp Draco had around your hand.  His touch felt different than when he held your wrist, his hand was now warm and soft.  

Your eyes were blurry with tears, and coupled with the dark night sky, you could barely see.  The only thing guiding you was Draco’s hand, pulling you towards the outskirts of the forest.  

You were too scared to look back in search of the werewolf, but Draco didn’t express worry that it would come back.  Instead, he pulled you closer to him, your head leaning on his chest.  His chest rose and fell quickly, his heartbeat rapid and quick.

After what felt like hours upon hours of running in the pitch black towards nothing, you and the not-so-bad blonde were back safely in front of Hagrid’s hut.  The tears in your eyes had finally dried, though you definitely weren’t looking your best.  

Under the light from Hagrid’s windows, Draco could see your matted hair, smudged mascara, and a bit of dried blood under your nose.  He could have easily made a snide comment at your expense, but instead, he reached to your face, brushing a few loose strands of hair out of your eyes.  

You looked up from your feet at the handsome blonde in front of you.  He held a guilty smile on his face, but he seemed to be okay.  You’d been so terrified these past few hours that all you could think to do was practically jump onto Draco, giving him a tight hug.

At first, he didn’t know what to do when you latched your arms around his chest in a tight hug.  The last hug he ever got from someone was his first day of Hogwarts, at Platform 9 ¾.  His mother tightly embraced him before sending him off to proudly strut onto the train.  

His body apparently missed the feeling more than it let on, for butterflies exploded in his whole body the moment your soft skin wrapped around him tightly.  He could faintly smell your shampoo as he hesitantly latched onto you.

The feeling of his arms around you was like nothing you’ve experienced before.  Sure, you’d hugged people in the past, but this felt different.  You felt your heartbeat quicken, and your whole body felt warmer.  You felt secure and comfortable.

Little did the two of you know, Hagrid stood in the doorway of his humble abode, a knowing smile painted on his lips.  He let out a small “ahem” before the hug was broken.  You and Draco swiveled to face the half-giant, who reached out his arm expectantly.  

Only then did Draco realize that he left the basket behind after the werewolf encounter, and a look of shock and embarrassment coated his face.  

“I must’ve left it back in the forest.  I’ll come back tomorrow night to regather the knotgrass. Just  let Draco off the hook, please?” Your face had a pleading expression, a slightly pained look in your eyes.  

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Y/N.  I know all ‘bout yer werewolf encounter, I’m ser Snape can live without a bit of knotgrass fer a few more days.”  Hagrid warmly smiled at you.

The castle felt miles away from the outskirts of the forest.  Draco was back to being his usual cold self, facing away from you as you both trudged to the school.

Eventually, you finally stood at the large wooden doors of the main entrance to Hogwarts.  Within moments, you would be back within its comforting walls, which would surely soothe the new pounding sensation in your head.  

You reached for the large, rusted metal doorknobs, ready to be greeted with the castle’s uplifting energy, when Draco grabbed your free hand, pulling you away from the handle. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to be rude to the Slytherin, after all he did for you, so instead, you asked calmly, “What is it?”

The glow of torches which adorned Hogwarts’ stoney outer walls made Draco’s hair look magnificently golden, contrasting the way the pale moonlight made his locks seem almost silver.  His silver eyes stared into yours, and for a moment you swear you saw his gaze flicker to your lips.  

Your face heated up at the sight of his charming gaze and smile.  You hadn’t even noticed how close his face was to yours until you felt the heat radiating from his pale cheeks.  He quickly closed the minuscule gap between the two of you by passionately connecting your lips. 

The electricity in the air was hard to ignore.  The late hours of the night just added to the rush of feelings you got when your and Draco’s lips touched.  You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer; one of his warm hands cupped your cheek and the other sat around your waist.  

After several moments of slow and loving kissing, your lips disconnected.  Your lips missed the feeling of his’, but you were still satisfied.  Draco pulled the large wooden door open, stepping inside with you, your fingers intertwined.  

“I might just have to steal another one of your pathetic essays soon,” Draco said, a genuine look of love in his eyes accompanied by his signature smirk.

“You’re such a git, Malfoy.  Though, I wouldn’t mind spending some more time with you, as long as there’s no werewolves involved, okay?”  

And with that, you pulled him closer for another quick, affectionate kiss before giddily walking up to the Gryffindor common room.

[seekingseven]

All I would like to request is Legend and Sky hanging out, maybe being friends. Also, love you lots Seeking! Hope you're taking care of yourself and having a good day. It's what you deserve ^u^

Linked Universe Prompt Requests #3!

First of all, I appreciate you so much, Silver! And second, here you go!

(You can also read the fic here on Ao3)

~~~~~~

Legend leaned against his kitchen counter, chin in his palm and nose scrunched against the breeze leaking through the window.

"Foul ball, that was a foul ball!"

"Wha- no it wasn't! You can't call a foul ball whenever we score!"

Warriors and Twilight glowered at each other. On the far side of the backyard, Wind dribbled a spotted ball between his ankles and made small talk with Wild, who was trying to wipe away the sweat pooling under his arms with the end of his ponytail.  Legend scrunched his nose in disgust. Apparently the champion's bright idea to host a ball game in the hottest hour of the afternoon had come back to bite him.

His focus drifted over to the other side of his backyard, where Hyrule stood forlornly between two wooden posts. His team's poor excuse for a goal, most likely.

"You tried to trip me!"

"I did not! Stop whining, would you? If you wanted to win you should have learned the rules of the game beforehand."

"Cut me some slack, Twi. It's my first time playing!"

"Not an excuse. If you wanted to learn you could have just stayed inside with Sky and Legend or gone to the market with Four!"

Warriors took a few quick steps forward. Twilight stood his ground and puffed up his chest.

"That's enough, you two." Time said, voice snapping from his spot on a nearby bench. Legend grunted. What kind of referee watched from a bench? This was why there was an argument happening in the first place.

Behind him, the kettle began to whistle. Legend pushed himself off his elbows and turned to shut off the stove top, only partially ignoring the sounds of athletic revelry from the backyard. Porcelain clinked as Legend pulled a cup off the drying rack, then, glancing across the room, pulled off another.

If Sky was bothered by any of the commotion outside or the domestic ambience inside, he didn't show it. Instead, he sat at a table by the porch window, filing idly through the mounds of miscellaneous letters and trinkets piled around him. An overhead cuckoo clock wheedled out a dinky tune as Sky scrutinized an oddly-shaped mask.

"Coffee?" Legend asked.

Sky looked up from the table, then smiled.

"Yes, please!"

"Wrong, it's tea. What kind do you want?"

Sky's eyebrows furrowed for a moment before he caught on.

"Oh, haha! You got me. Uh, I don't really know. Surprise me."

Legend nodded to himself as he poured the kettle into the two cups. "You like sweet stuff?"

"Yeah, big fan. Can't drink anything too hot, though. Hurts my face. You got any iced tea or something?"

Steam plumed from the cups. Legend let out a small snort.

"Would have been nice to know that earlier."

Sky scratched the back of his neck and had the decency to offer up an apologetic smile. With a roll of his eyes, Legend set the kettle down and hoisted himself onto the kitchen counter.

He knew he stored the ice cubes in one of the overhead cabinets, but which one? Cabinets opened and closed as Legend balanced precariously on the countertop. Where was it? Had he really been gone so long that he didn't know where his own things were?

"Hey Legend, what's this?"

Paper rustled. The legs of Sky's chair squeaked as he leaned back, and in the corner of his eye Legend saw his companion hold something up to his face.

"Little busy here," Legend mumbled, closing yet another cabinet full of pots and pans. Maybe he should give some to Ravio; the guy needed some things for his new place, anyway. "Can you describe it to me?"

A snicker, then a stifled sound of agreement. Legend would have turned around to glare at Sky if he wasn't busy gloating over his find; the ice, at last! The countertop groaned as Legend plopped the bag of ice atop it and hopped onto the floor.

"It's a letter," Sky began, his voice uncharacteristically suave. Legend's eyes narrowed. "It's in this little pink envelope, and there's a little heart sticker on it. Says on the back....'from Elise.' Oh ho ho! Who's Elise? And there's another one here! This one's white, and it has a flower sticker on the lip. Very, very cute. Is this from Elise, too? Let me see...oh goddesses! 'From Carmen!' Carmen! Now tell me, does Elise know about this Carmen?"

Sky looked up at him with an impossibly smug grin. Legend pressed the corners of his lips down as he pulled out the rest of the ingredients for the tea.

"They're just girls," Legend began. "Just-"

"Just girls? What kind of philosophy is that? And to think you criticize Warriors for his womanizing tendencies..."

"You didn't let me finish! They're just girls who work at the bakery in Castle Town. I don't know how they got my address, but one day they all started sending me letters like that."

Sky's eyebrows piqued upwards. It might have looked innocent if not for the devious smile on his face.

"Oh, I see. So why did you keep them? Elise and Carmen must have been very sorry to have not received any response," Sky said, rifling through the stack of pink and red and crème colored letters and flipping them over to read the names on the back. Legend pretended he didn't see Sky's grin widen. "And I'm guessing the same is true for poor Lisa...and Donatella...and Trish..."

It was a good thing that Legend was preoccupied with measuring out sugar and honey, because if he had been any closer to the ice cubes, they might have melted from the heat radiating off Legend's face.

"I'm serious, Sky! I don't know any of them. I don't know why they kept sending the letters -- I never even gave them my address! I mean, I'm sure they're all really nice girls, but I'm just not, you know, in the position to be in a relationship right now...with the traveling and heroics and all that..."

Silverware clattered as Legend pulled open a drawer and retrieved a fruit knife. The sound of shouting and running echoed from outside. Light streamed through the kitchen window, and the breeze pushed along dust bunnies on the floor. Sky studied Legend, watching with unusual intensity as the latter skinned and diced a peach, then folded his hands behind his head.

"Fine, fine. But one more question, then."

Legend made a vague sound that could have been read as either grateful or irritated; most likely, it was a combination of both. Sky pushed forward anyway.

"Why'd you keep them?"

"What?"

"The cards. Why did you keep them? Did you just not have a chance to throw them away or something?"

"Throw them away? Of course not! Did you see the paper they're made of? That sort of high quality cardstock doesn't come from just anywhere! If I can find a way to bleach the paper without damaging it, I can use it for all sorts of things!"

Sky snorted, smiled, and tossed a handful of pink cards back onto the table. Hoarder, indeed.

"I think that Ravio friend of yours is starting to rub off on you."

"He is not," Legend insisted, placing a spoon and straw in both cups before walking over to the table. Only after Sky brushed away the cards in front of him did Legend hand him his tea. "He would have tried to sell them off as antiques or something. Guy wouldn't know what a real antique was even if it was staring him in the face."

Sky hummed. The sound bubbled into his tea and set little capsules of air drifting across the frothy surface. "Hey, did you put peaches in this?"

"Yeah, you like it?"

Outside, Warriors cried foul and Hyrule said something about headshots. Sky sipped his drink again, then grinned. "Mmmm, delicious. Yeah, I love it! Give me the recipe sometime, huh?"

"Heh, will do. Glad you like it."

"And speaking of Ravio, where is he? Didn't you say he used to squat here?"

Legend nodded, hands cupped around his drink and goosebumps flaring from its soothing coolness. "He did, but he just moved out. Got his own shop by the castle, with a big nice sign out in front. Professionally made. It looks pretty good, honestly. I haven't seen him in a while, but I might drop by sometime to say hi."

"Ah, I see," Sky said, absently threading one of the love letters through his fingers. Legend shot him a dirty glare, but he paid it no mind. "Hey, you said that these girls somehow figured your address, right? Do you think Ravio might have given it out? Maybe while you were gone or something?"

"Ravio? That's ridiculous. He's not the sort of guy to do that. For the longest time he's been telling me to...to..."

Legend's eyes widened. The goosebumps along his arms grew more pronounced, and this time it wasn't from his chilly drink.

"He what?" Sky prompted.

"He's been telling me to get a girlfriend for the longest time and...he...he set me up. He set me up! He gave out my address to those girls. I know it! He...this is his fault!"

Sky burst into laughter. Tea sprayed across the table, splattering across rose-colored envelopes and sparkling cardstock. Legend punched him in the shoulder, hard, but Sky didn't stop.

"Ravio! Ravio as your wingman, I would have never thought! Doing the goddesses' work, he is!"

"Oh, shut up, would you? I'm not going to make you tea again!"

Their punching and tousling cooled when the front door swung open. A moment later, Four stepped inside, arms laden with groceries and a peculiar grin on his face.

"You're back!" Sky said. Legend mumbled something about Sky stating the obvious before placing his cup to his cheek, trying to smother his burning blush.

"Sorry to interrupt whatever was going on here," Four said. That odd smile was still on his face. "I’m just about to put all these groceries away, but there's something I need to give to Legend first."

"Me?" Legend asked. Four's grin widened; it looked unnervingly similar to the one Sky had worn just minutes ago.

"Yes, special delivery. From a certain 'Amelia'. It's the red box, yeah, that one."

Legend picked up the box gently, sandwiching it between his forearm and bicep, and shuddered. Sky and Four traded a sidelong look before the latter darted off into the kitchen.

"Well? What do you think it is?" Sky asked.

"I don't want to know," Legend whispered. He took a seat by the table before tossing the box by his cup. Something rustled inside.

"Open it..."

"Open it!" Four chimed from the kitchen. His voice was unusually high.

With a world weary sigh, Legend edged his fingers under the box cover and slowly lifted it upwards.

"Well? What is it?"

"Wait, would you? I can't tell..."

Legend leaned forward, squinting.

His eyes widened.

With an undignified BANG, he slammed the box shut and launched it across the room. His face was stained a dangerous color of scarlet.

"...well?" Sky repeated, "what was it?"

Legend let out a short breath, then leaned over to cradle his head in his hands.

"...remind me to kill Ravio the next time I see him," he growled.

Sky and Four burst into laughter, and even Legend couldn't fully stifle a smile.

~~ Fine ~~ I hope you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading! [Previous Request] - [Next Request]

[hisoknen]

no promises || overhaul

warnings: apocalypse au, dubcon, mind break, overstimulation, orgasm denial, blood, physical trauma/injury in beginning, death of side characters wc: 2.8k

a/n: this is a piece for the bnharem collab!! make sure you go check out the other apocalypse au’s here! special thank you to @joyousandverywarlike​​ for beta reading @thewheezingwyvern brain storming with me + helping with medical stuff!

It was heard through the grapevine that the Shie Hassaikai had stockpiled food. They had first aid and many other things that were impossible to come by in the time since the collapse. 

Guards too cocky and relaxed to cover the premises. A few groups in your surrounding area had entered the compound successfully and although you have a small team and little backup, the need for provisions is far too great to ignore.

Going in with your recovery group, you quickly make silent entry into the warehouse. Despite the current circumstances in the world, this place was stocked full and spotless. You couldn't help but notice that there wasn’t a single speck of dust in the whole place, almost like no one ventured down here.

“I'm gonna head to the front Y/n, be smart. Gather as much as you can but not too much, we still gotta navigate out of this place quickly.” Your captain says in a hushed tone before advancing. 

“Remember, no one gets left behind.”

In the years before, chaos had overtaken the world. Those without a high standing in society were left in the dust to fend for themselves. It had been 10 years since the collapse of society. Only the wealthy and well connected were able to continue their lives of luxury, while the rest of the world was left to feed on the scraps of what remained. 

Shrugging the bag off of your shoulders and swinging it to your front, you unzip it and begin locating the necessary items for your team. If this is a success, you could not only head out with enough provisions for your crew, but you would also have a place to come back to in the future. 

How could you possibly gage what is too much and what isn’t enough? You need food, clothing and first aid. If you grab more gauze than food, what would happen if you ran out of provisions? There is no way to eat gauze. What is most important?

“Y/n, time to go,” you hear your captain's voice behind you seeing only his back as he heads to the exit. Quietly locating the last of the things within reach, you zip up the bag, turning back to the entrance you came in through. 

Your bag is heavier than it should be but you are known for being fast on your feet. Sprinting quietly, you open the door, catching sight of your team. “Y/n is here, we’re all ready to go.” You smile, taking a step before a loud noise sounds through your ear drums. 

What is this? Your body is overcome with a dazed feeling. You run your fingers along the side of your stomach, the damp and sticky cloth clinging to your fingers. Bringing your fingers slowly up to your eyes you see a sickly vibrant red coating them. 

The words of your captain, no one gets left behind, play over and over in your mind as you are struck by the realization of what has just happened. They wouldn’t leave you, would they? 

Your legs begin to lose their strength, hand grasping at the door frame while you begin to slide down. The slick on your fingers helps none as the concrete below comes into contact with your skull. The muffled sound of yelling in the distance, the bodies you see fleeing the warehouse and an overwhelming ringing are all you can focus on. 

No one gets left behind. No one gets left behind. No one gets left behind. Clutching at your stomach, you attempt to lessen the blood oozing from the wound. 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. You command yourself, gathering your last bit of strength to press your other hand onto the floor. You gain footing, only to fall flat once again, the blood spilling between the cracks in your fingers. You can’t feel anything, everything is numb.

“What do you think you’re doing, little one?” A distorted shadow looms over you, pain coursing through your body as something blunt makes contact with your back. You hear a deafening pop followed by a searing pain in your chest. You let out a silent scream, immediately regretting it as the breath catches in your throat. Lungs collapsing in on themselves as you try in vain to take in air.

The pain once sharp now radiates in your gut. Each breath you try to take feels like breathing underwater. Your vision is fuzzy. You try desperately to gulp air to keep yourself conscious. The ache is debilitating. 

You can feel it spreading to your ribs even as you stop moving, your head pulsing. The air around you feels heavy. There is no way to process the pain. All you can do is feel, as it overtakes your senses. You try in vain to move once more, vision fading to black.

—

Your eyes feel like they are glued shut, only just able to slip them open before snapping them shut immediately. There is a blinding light overhead beaming down on you. A sharp pain riddling through your body, stomach spasming. You let out an incoherent garble at the blistering sensation. 

The constriction multiplies the existing pain tenfold. You try to pull your hand to cradle your wound, only to feel a sharp cinch at your wrists. Craning your eyes down, you see that they are strapped securely into place with a thin but strong plastic. 

“Hel-,” you struggle against your limbs screaming out in agony for you to keep quiet in order to preserve energy. Where were you? Who was there to call for? Your friends? Your team? They’d all left you the moment you were shot. Crying for help is useless but what else can you do? The more you try to move, the more the pain jolts through your body. You can see that your stomach is bandaged but there is still a vibrant red slowly seeping through it. 

“I’d sit still if I were you. Seem to have broken a rib or two along with that,” a muffled voice comes from your side, gloved hand pointing at your belly. The pulsing of your head keeps you from turning it as you let out a pathetic winded gasp, wrists jerking against the binds.

“Judging by the injuries you sustained, you’re going to be bedridden for quite some time.” The man had a plague doctor mask covering his nose and mouth leaning down into your line of sight. Through your blurred vision, you can make out his pale skin matched with short, shaggy, brown hair. 

If you weren’t occupied by the fear flooding your senses, you’d find the small golden irises peeking out at you quite beautiful. You flinch away, letting out a pathetic cry as a gloved hand lands softly on your injured belly. The movement only adds to the searing pain already pumping through your veins.

“What’s your name, little thing?” Bile rises in your throat as the pressure pushing dow and predicament begin to register in your clouded mind. You tighten your lips, eyebrows furrowing. There was no way you’d give him information about your group, even if your life depended on it. 

He stares down at you unblinking, rolling up his sleeves with a huff. Removing the wet bandage he digs a gloved finger into the wound, tearing a shriek from your lips, vision spotting. The more you struggle and wheeze, the more prominent the ache in your belly becomes. His fingers curl inside of the weeping hole, tears blinding your vision, body blistering hot. There was no breath left to cry out. 

“Y/n-” you choke out, nails tearing into your palm as you fight in vain to distract yourself from the tearing of your flesh and guts. His fingers slowly ease out, allowing you to relax for a moment.

“You made me do such a disgusting thing.” He cringes behind the mask, bringing a towel to wipe away at the blood covering his gloved hand. You see the skin on his forehead break out in small bumps.

He reaches out of your sight facing you again with a clean pair of gloves.

“Please don’t kill me,” you plead with trembling lips. All you wanted to do was provide for those you loved. Why hadn’t you died when you were shot? Did he really bring you here to torture you? Hadn’t you had enough?

“No promises.” His gaze is cold and calculating, inspecting you as though you are nothing more than a pile of filth. “They left you here all alone,” he muses, “but don’t you worry, they didn’t make it far,” he says unamused, itching at his forearm with the untainted glove. You can see the skin under his hands had begin to rise, angry bumps littering the area.

“All of the-” horror overcomes you as you think of the faces of your friends and family. Looking up at his blank face gives you all the confirmation that you need.

“I might let you leave, we’ll see. I think we can both help each other right now, Y/n.” A twisted look overtakes his face as he observes you, awaiting an answer. What does he want from you? Your team's location? Who you got intel from? 

“You came all this way to steal from me, I’m making you an offer.” He tilts his head to the side, looking displeased at your lack of response. 

“What do you want?” you growl, pulling at your restraints, immediately regretting it when you feel the raw ache of your struggle. 

“You know, it’s hard being cooped up in here, all alone,” his fingers lightly dance along the raised skin on your arm. “No one there for me when I need them. No one to please me.” His hand makes its way to the outline of your collar bone. 

“You all think it’s hard out there. But imagine being me.” Your stomach churns at his suggestion that living a life of luxury is more painful than the thousands of people scavenging the remnants of the world for supplies necessary to make it through to the next day. “You look clean enough,” he ponders aloud. You couldn’t tell if he was even talking to you or reassuring himself.

“So what do you say? You give yourself to me for a while and we can act like this whole incident never happened.” The words falling from his lips make your stomach reel, yet they were filled with sweet temptation. 

Were you willing to let this man do anything he pleased to you in order to make it out of here alive? Would there be anything for you to go back to if he even followed through with his word? If there was, how would you explain to your camp why you were the only one to return?

“Yes,” you bite your tongue, swallowing your pride. It dawned on you that you were in no place to refuse in the first place. He would take what he wanted from you regardless of what your answer was. Your survival depended on your ability to choose when to fight your battles. 

“You’re a smart one,” he lets out a soft chuckle, brushing his hands across your inner thigh and trailing them up. He pulls your body roughly to the end of the table, pain flooding your limbs at the sudden movement. Your hands are still secured above you, pants torn from your body. He stands between your legs, staring at your naked core.

Pulling out a chair, his fingers find your core. He spreads your labia, coming close to eye your cunt and push the hood of your clit back. Having him touch your cunt makes you want to gag. The man who did this to you, touching your most sacred parts sends rage throughout you. Yet the way his fingers delicately dance across your clit make your cunt throb.

“Who’d think you’d get so wet in a situation like this,” he questions, holding the slick up for you to see. You stare back at it in disgust, your body betraying you. His fingers push into your warm heat, your back arching in tune with his touch. The pain from your injury fuses with pleasure as he curls his fingers inside of your fluttering hole. With each movement he makes, you feel the pressure slowly building in your stomach. 

Without the luxury of movement all of your focus turns inward on your body and the way he is taking his time to slowly coax an orgasm from you. The leather of his gloves is covered in your arousal, plunging in and out of your core languidly. Each motion sends a jolt of revulsion and arousal to your foggy mind.

“You’re such a disgusting little whore. Getting me dirty like this,” he breathes between clenched teeth, his speed picking up as irritation takes over his features. 

“I’m gonna cu-” the pressure peaks, but before you can release, his fingers tear from your abused hole, leaving it quivering.

“I didn’t keep you alive so that could you cum,” he sneers, staring at his coated fingers, looking repulsed by the fluid covering them. “You’re here for me to enjoy,” he pulls the dirtied glove from his hand, discarding them both across the room. 

He leaves your side, the sound of a drawer slamming open startles you. He appears between your legs, with a new pair, unzipping his pants. He palms his cock a few times before sliding a condom over it.

“I have waited so long for this,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips, plunging into your pulsing cunt. A cry leaves your mouth at the sudden intrusion. He lets out a soft grunt, feeling your cunt fight against him. He continues to push into you, your walls milking him as they try and accommodate space. 

“Fuck you’re tight,” he pulls out of you slowly, easing back in inch by inch. The stretch is painful at first but soon blends into pleasure. Fingers spread apart your labia, pressing at your swollen clit, prodding against it with each rut of his hips.

Your hands tug at the restraints above your head, an ache gushing through you. You didn’t even know who the man violating your cunt was, yet you let him continue to defile you. Whines tumblr past your lips as he fills you.

“All of your team is dead and you can’t do anything but grip my cock and moan like a slut?” The words falling from his mouth bring tears to your eyes. Why were you enjoying this so much? Why does your body want more? Why do his words send a wave of arousal shuddering through your body. He’s taken so much from you, yet all you can do is let out pathetic sounds, pleading him to continue as your tongue lolls out.

“It’s like your pussy was made for me,” the sounds of slapping skin and the lewd squelching of your cunt echo through the room. Your mind goes blank, your body made to take all of what he is giving you.

There’s nothing for you to do but lie still while he milks orgasm after orgasm from you. Each time your body undulates, you feel pain in tandem, soaking into the hollow of your belly. The first orgasm takes everything from you, body limp and tender. Yet you still utter the words, begging him to keep using you, to keep fucking into your swollen pussy. Each orgasm sends a shake through your body, convulsions of agnozing pressure and relief. 

The overstimulation has sobs wracking through your spent body. You can’t take anymore, but you crave more. All you can do is focus on your breathing. You feel his pace falter, fingers digging into your hips. 

“I can’t-” A spark of electricity crashes through you when he pushes against your clit. 

A cry leaves you as he sends you over the edge a final time, bottoming out inside of you. You can feel the warmth of his release fill up the condom, his cock twitching against your walls. Your body shakes against him while your mind buzzes. The faint sound of a zipper being pulled, coaxed you out of the daze.

“When you’re able to move again, you’re free to go.” You fight to keep your eyes open, gaze following him to the other side of the room where he discards his gloves. 

“The next time you need something. Feel free to come to the front. There are... easier ways to get the things you want,” he pauses, grabbing a clean pair of gloves before walking to the door. Your eyes are droopy, his figure swimming, mind desperately trying to hang onto his words.

“But while you are here. You’ll call me Kai.”

—

masterlist

[writer-k-pop]

Train Rides

낮잠은 어땠어? How was your nap?

Description: What is hoped to be a quiet train ride down to your grandparents’ is interrupted by a loud business trip with an intriguing conversation with a business man who’s apart of the group that’s creating chaos in the train car. Warnings: Swearing Genre: Fluff, Non-idol!Minghao x Fem!Reader ft. Non-idol!Seventeen Word Count: 3k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

My duffle bag bounced against my hip as I did a weird jog shuffle down the train platform in search of the train car where my seat was. Almost missing my train was what I got for spending a few extra minutes in the shower. My aunt would've killed me if I missed this train because I was bringing the most important stuff for my grandparents' anniversary.

"Finally." I exhaled as I finally found my assigned train car: number 8.

Pulling myself into the train car, I focused on calming my rapidly beating heart. I opened the door separating the seats from the space between train cars and my ears were immediately bombarded with lively chatter.

I looked up to find a large cluster of seats were taken up by a group of males. They were the ones creating the chatter. And it didn't help that they were all clustered around the middle of the train.

Internally, I groaned because I honestly hoped to get some more sleep on this train ride before I had to deal with my very loud, very obnoxious family. But that plan jumped out the window. But then, my heart dropped even further.

My seat was somehow in the smack dab middle of their cluster.

I cursed my need for a little extra leg room and a window seat as I trudged down the aisle with my duffle bag gripped in my hands. The conversations didn't quiet down as I approached, nor did they stop when I reached the middle of the train car where the backwards facing seats met the forward facing cars with a table in the center.

Sitting across from my seat were two males, one with blonde hair and the other with black hair. Both had rounder faces but they were in no way pudgy. In the seat right next to mine was another black haired male but he had a slimmer face and honestly, a slimmer physique in general. He had sharp facial features, a pair of round glasses sat on his nose and his entire focus was on the notebook supported by one hand while the other flew across the page with a pencil in its grasp.

The two from across noticed me stop and stared for a couple seconds as I struggled to get my ridiculously heavy duffle bag up into the overhead storage.

"Here. Let me help you with that." A light voice offered from behind me and a pair of hands helped me push the duffle into place.

"Thank you." I turned around to properly thank him and I was met with an almost angelic face that matched the voice almost perfectly. He had red hair and angled features but he somehow made it all work well together.

They were all seriously good looking and I was suddenly very thankful I spent those few extra minutes in the shower.

"No problem." The red head smiled and my involuntarily fluttered, "Do you have the seat next to Minghao?" He asked, nodding towards the male who was still engrossed in his little notebook.

"I guess." I told him with a small smile and then I heard the faint ringing throughout the platform telling everyone we were about to depart.

As the train car doors closed shut, one of the males across from my seat must've kicked the male sitting next to me because his eyes shot up with a glare that would've made even the toughest guys back down. But after a quick nod in my direction, the one in the seat next to mine directed his attention to me and I swore I saw his eyes widen ever so slightly. As quickly as he shot his head up, he scrambled out of his seat to let me into my seat.

"Thank you." I said quietly as slid into my seat just as the train began to move.

"No problem." The male next to me said and slid back into his seat. I could feel his gaze on me for a few more seconds before he reburied his head into his notebook.

I pulled out my book and headphones from my backpack before setting it down next to my legs. The conversations around me began to pick up again and I decided I could try to ignore them with some music.

But... just as the train left the station behind...

"So where are you headed?" The blonde male directly across from me asked just as I plugged in my headphones.

I blinked, for some reason unsure why he would be talking to me. "Uh, I'm headed down to Jinju." I answer him slowly.

"Oh, no way." The blonde smiled widely, "We are too."

"Oh, that's cool." I commented, unsure of how to actually respond.

"Yeah, we have a few important business things to do there." He explained though I didn't exactly ask for one. The slight awkwardness that creeped into the atmosphere almost made me want to laugh.

"Important." The black haired male next to the blonde repeated with air quotes and a large eye roll.

"Ignore him." The blonde informed me while pushing the black haired one in the shoulder. "I'm Seungkwan, by the way."

"(y/n)." I introduced me since it was the only thing I could do.

"Soonyoung." The black haired one raised a hand, all traces of his annoyance from earlier completely gone.

"Hi." I smiled, playing with an earbud wondering if they were going to talk to me the entire trip.

"So, are you just visiting Jinju?" Seungkwan continued his round of questions.

"Yeah," I answered, realizing that they were indeed probably going to talk to me the entire way there, "My grandparents live there and I'm visiting them."

"Oh, that's so sweet." Seungkwan cooed.

"I wish I was visiting my grandparents." Soonyoung grumbled, his annoyance returning.

"Soonyoung, I swear to god, if I hear another grievance from you, I'm going to make you participate in the panel next week." Another black haired male from across the aisle narrowed his eyes at Soonyoung.

"Oh god, not the financial panel." Soonyoung's face dropped so fast that I barely had time to hold back a laugh.

Seungkwan caught me and leaned in closer, "Don't worry, we all think he's nuts."

"Not as nuts as Jun." A voice piped up from behind me. The male looked by far the youngest and he was pointing diagonally across the aisle at a bucket hat wearing male with sharp catlike features.

As the others started to banter about who was more nuts, I glanced over at the notebook of my glasses wearing seat mate. On the page was a crude drawing of a character of some sorts and I couldn't help but be captivated by it. It wasn't anything super fantastical or extraordinary but every part held a story and I wanted to decipher all the parts. The way the body was positioned gave the impression of a welcoming and comforting personality but the face had the emotions of hidden stresses and thoughts.

The owner of the notebook cleared his throat slightly and I was caught red handed.

"Sorry." I apologized and felt a blush creep into my cheeks.

"It's okay." He accepted my apology but the embarrassment was still drowning me.

"It's a really interesting drawing." I complimented him and then mentally face palmed at the genericness of it.

The male glanced down at the drawing and then back up at me, "You think?" He asked.

I nodded, "Yeah, that's why I was staring. I was trying to figure out the pieces of the story it holds." I explained, trying not to look away from his intense curious gaze.

"Huh." He commented, slightly impressed for some reason, "These idiots never looked at one of my drawings for more than ten seconds." He gestured to the still bantering males around us.

I chuckled, "Well, they can't be complete idiots considering you're all attending business meetings together." I told him and he tilted his head to the side, considering my point.

"Fair." He said and then paused, thinking, before adding, "Then they're idiots of the art world."

"That sounds a little better." I said with another laugh bubbling in my chest, "So, do you draw often?"

He shrugged, "Kind of. I do it whenever I feel like I need to let off steam or if I'm bored."

"Which one was it today?" I asked then wondered if that was borderline too personal.

"Boredom." He answered, nonchalantly, and added a few more pencil strokes to the shadows of his character.

"Train rides not your favorite?" I guessed with a questioning eyebrow.

"Not really." He responded, "I'm more of a car ride kind of guy. But the train was the fastest option for us, so here we are."

"You like driving through Seoul?" I questioned with slight shock because Seoul was a city where every hour was rush hour and every car was trying to make it to their destination in record time.

He chuckled in disgust, "Oh god no. I hate driving in the city. Makes me want to pull out all of my hair." He joked and a smile grew on my face. "But give me a long drive through the country, an AUX cord, and a few snacks and I'm all set to go for hours."

"You would go alone?" I asked.

He leaned in close so the others wouldn't hear him but my heart skipped a few beats. "These guys are idiots of the art world, remember?" He reminded me with a small playful smile.

"Right. I guess music counts as an art form." I stated, hoping he couldn't see my nervousness. He straightened back up and a tiny part of me was extremely disappointed.

"Exactly." He agreed, "Though Mingyu's not a bad companion, if I want one." He pointed across the aisle and a row back at a green haired giant.

My eyes widened at his hair color and I had to ask, "Why is his hair green?"

"He lost a bet." He informed me, a smile touched his face with the memory and he looked even cuter when he smiled.

"Poor dude." I exhaled glancing back at the green haired male as he laughed at something the guy next to him said.

"Eh, he actually suggested the punishment himself so..." The male next to me trailed off with a shrug.

"So, what's your name?" I asked suddenly, realizing I knew a few of the others' names but not once did I get to ask him his.

"Minghao." He stuck out a hand and I grabbed with a surprised smile.

"(y/n)." I reciprocated the greeting and pray he can't feel my racing pulse through my skin.

""And you're visiting family in Jinju." Minghao repeated what I told Seungkwan earlier and my lips pucker in surprise. He chuckled and pulled his hand away. "My ears still pay attention even if my eyes aren't."

"I can't do that." I said, resting my hands in my lap, "Multitasking like that is not my forte."

"Gotta focus on one or the other?" He asked and I nodded my head.

"If my eyes are focused on like my book," I rested my hand on the cover, "Or something, my ears tune out everything so I don't miss a single word."

"Is that what the headphones are for?" Minghao asked nodding towards my phone with the still plugged in headphones.

"Yeah, kind of." I answered and twirled the wire around my finger, "It's easier to tune out familiar sounds than new ones."

"Any particular sounds?" He inquired and set down his closed notebook on the table.

"Music, particularly." I told him and tried to ignore the giddy thoughts that screamed that he enjoyed talking to me. I also peeked at his hands and noticed he wasn't wearing any rings. Which could've have been a big indicator that he wasn't in a relationship with anyone considering every couple seemed to have couple rings here.

He gave me a wide smile and the action softened his facial features so much. "Any particular artists?" He reiterated his question using the same word we had been repeating.

"Jason Miraz is one of my favorites." I informed him.

"Oh, I love Jason Miraz." He said with bright eyes, "His style is just so cool and he makes great songs."

"His style is really, really cool." I agreed. "Have you heard his new album?"

"Did that come out already?" Minghao asked with widened eyes.

I nodded, "This morning."

"Oh dang, I didn't even know it was coming out this soon." He said and scratched the back of his neck.

I reached for my headphones and handed one to him, "You want to listen with me? I haven't made it through the whole thing yet either. Just the first couple."

Minghao cautiously grabbed the earbud out of my hand, "You're sure?" He questioned me.

"About sharing headphones?" I answered with another question, "It's fine." I gave him a reassuring smile and it seemed to relax him a bit.

I popped my earbud in my ear and then scrolled through my phone to find the playlist. Adjusting the volume so it wouldn't blow out our eardrums, I started the album from the top.

"How's the volume?" I glanced over at Minghao after settling the volume at a level I thought was comfortable.

"Good, good." He responded, still a little stiff.

Turning my head towards the window, I let the calm melodies and voice of Jason Miraz accompany the green country scenery that quickly passed by. Pretty soon, my eye lids began to grow heavy and my morning rush started to catch up with me. Before I knew it, I was nodding off with my head leaned back against the weird velvety seat. Jason Miraz's soft voice carried me further into sleep land.

Just before the haze of exhaustion turned into a dark abyss, I felt a hand lower my head until it met the hard curve of a shoulder.

I woke up to someone calling my name and it wasn't Jason Miraz's voice. Blinking my eyes open, I was still on the train and the country side was still passing by very quickly. My head was still pressed against a shoulder and then it hit me just who's shoulder I was leaning on. [Though you know Soonyoung was not going to let Minghao live down how sweet the action was.]

"We're like 5 minutes from Jinju station." Minghao's voice informed me and I sat up, trying not to be too sudden about it.

Running a hand through my hair, I checked my phone and the time coincides with the information given to me.

"I can't believe I slept through the entire ride." I chuckled at myself, still in shock.

"I'm surprised you slept through Seokmin and Soonyoung's screaming." Minghao laughed lightly and handed me the other half of my headphones.

I gathered the wire and picked up my backpack to shove them and my book back into it.

"Ugh, we didn't even get to talk about the album." I pouted, annoyed at myself for sleeping.

He giggled and it added itself to list of things I found cute.

"How about this?" He suggested, "We exchange numbers and we can discuss the album once you actually listened to it."

I puckered my lips in thought because dude just called me out for falling asleep in the middle of tiny listening party for a new album. But, the little jab did nothing against the desire to keep in touch with him. So, I unlocked my phone and handed it over with the contacts app opened.

"Deal." I agreed to his suggestion and he took my phone before quickly typing in his information.

"How was your nap?" Seungkwan asked, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward.

"It was unexpected and long." I answered him, zipping up my backpack.

"But was it at least good?" He questioned further and Minghao handed back my phone.

"I'd say it was pretty good." I told him and he smiled, content with my answer.

The train pulled into the station, which was the last on its route, and we all shuffled out of our seats. I reached up to the overhead storage for my still ridiculously heavy duffle bag but Minghao grabbed it before I could even touch it. Pulling it down, he held it out for me to take.

"Thank you." I thanked him with a smile that I hoped would cover up the toll that the bag's weight took on my body, specifically my arms.

"No problem." He nodded with a small smile.

The other guys let me walk off the train first and I didn't get a chance to look back or wait for them because my aunt was waiting on the platform for me.

"(y/n)!" She yelled and ran towards me. "Glad you made it! Oh! We have so many dishes to prepare. Come on, your mom's busy chopping up vegetables and claims she needs her sous chef ASAP." My aunt took the bag from me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders before leading me away.

I tried to look back for one last glance at the male who let me sleep on his shoulder but my aunt demanded all of my attention.

"Did you remember to bring all the stuff we asked?" She questioned me.

"Yes, auntie." I replied, "I even remembered the Christmas ornament, though it took me forever to find."

"Oh, you're amazing!" She squeezed my shoulder and we walked out of the station and towards her car.

As we made our way down the stairs, my phone rang with a text.

I pulled it out and a laugh bubbled inside my chest as I read the message from Minghao.

"I don't think Jason Miraz can save you from that conversation."

[siancore]

Summary:  Rick did not like shopping at the best of times. He was happy to shop online. With just a few clicks, everything he needed was paid for, shipped, and delivered to the letterbox in his college dorm. He avoided a bunch of fellow shoppers, didn’t have to worry about finding parking, and did not get distracted with things he shouldn’t want or couldn’t really afford. Yes, Rick did not like shopping, especially during the holiday season. That is until he needs to buy something for his mama and meets a young woman who works in a giftshop.

A/N: Richonne Christmas AU one-shot. All feel-good fluff

Word: 3,788

Rick did not like shopping at the best of times. He was happy to shop online. With just a few clicks, everything he needed was paid for, shipped, and delivered to the letterbox in his college dorm. He avoided a bunch of fellow shoppers, didn’t have to worry about finding parking, and did not get distracted with things he shouldn’t want or couldn’t really afford. Yes, Rick did not like shopping, especially during the holiday season. Luckily, his friends Morgan and Shane went with him for moral support when he needed to choose a gift for his mama.

The sound of Mariah Carey’s voice coming through the speakers of the PA system in the mall wafted around the friends as they walked beside one another. Christmas garlands with lights hung overhead, and there seemed to be a plastic, decorated tree in every shop window they passed. People were everywhere, trying to find the perfect gifts for loved ones. Rick wouldn’t really say it was last minute shopping, as it was the first week in December. Normally, he would leave gift shopping until a week or so before Christmas, but wanted to get it over and done with sooner this year.

Shane nudged Rick’s shoulder and then pointed toward a novelty gift store that looked like it sold everything from those tuxedo t-shirts to marijuana paraphernalia.

“There,” he said, wearing a wide grin. “Bound to find something in there for your mama.”

Rick and Morgan shared a look that was somewhere in the middle of disbelief and disgust.

“Nope,” said Morgan.

“Nuh ah,” Rick added. “I’m not gettin’ my mama one of those bikini t-shirts or a bong.”

“Why not?” asked Shane, still smiling.

Rick rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“The fact that you even have to ask me that makes me question why we’re friends,” said Rick with no malice behind his words. Shane just laughed and clapped a hand to his shoulder.

“You’ve been stuck with me since third grade, asshole,” Shane replied. “Now, if y’all are too good to come in that store with me, there’s a classy lookin’ place over there. Let’s meet up in the food court at that burger joint you like.”

“Thirty minutes?” asked Morgan, checking the time on his phone.

“Alright,” Rick replied. “Sounds good.”

The three friends nodded to one another and then went their separate ways: Shane to the novelty gift store, Morgan to a quaint little hole-in-the-wall bookshop, and Rick to the classy lookin’ place.

…..

One of the reasons Rick disliked shopping in public was that there was so much choice. He ended up overthinking most of the time. When the well-meaning staff asked if he needed any help, he normally gave a polite smile and told them no thanks. This time, however, he could probably use the help. The little shop had a wide variety of really nice gifts ranging from silverware to delicate looking jewelry boxes. Any one of the items would be appreciated and cherished by his mother. Rick was almost hesitant to touch anything because it all looked so pretty and nice. He wandered over to where the little glass figurines stood on a glass shelf. There were tiny little people, cars, monuments, and animals.

Rick’s eyes settled on a cute looking puppy figurine. His mama loved dogs. She would love the small glass one.  Carefully, Rick picked it up and placed it in the palm of his hand so that he could examine it more closely. It was very nice. Yes. His mama would like it. Smiling to himself, Rick made his way to the counter to purchase the figurine. He was met by a friendly looking older lady.

“Found something?” she asked with a warm smile.

“Yes, ma’am,” Rick replied as he placed the little puppy down on the counter.

“Ooh, these are really lovely,” she proffered as she searched around for the blue box that the item came with. “I have a bunch of them myself.”

“I like it,” Rick found himself saying. “Hope my mama likes it, too.”

“A gift for your mama? What a lovely boy you are. She’s gonna love it.”

Rick smiled and nodded his head as the lady continued speaking.

“Now, this box is fine and all, but we have a gift-wrapping service here, and it’s free for the whole month of December,” she explained. “Would you like it wrapped up all nice for your mama?”

“Yes, ma’am, that sounds really good.”

She gave Rick a smile and then said, “Alright, I won’t be a minute.”

The lady then walked to the curtain that covered a doorway that led to the back of the store and called out, “Michonne? Honey? Got a customer who needs somethin’ wrapped up.”

She returned to where Rick was standing and said, “If you wait at the end of the counter there, we’ll have our gift wrapper fix you up.”

Rick nodded, smiled, and said, “Thank you, ma’am.”

He then made his way to the end of the counter with the little box in his hand. He was busy looking out the shopfront window when his attention was drawn by a sweet-sounding voice. Rick turned his head and he swore his breath caught in his throat when his eyes fell on the young lady standing before him. He was certain he was staring, with his jaw on the floor, because she repeated her question.

“You needed something wrapped?”

Rick needed to look at her lips to make sure he understood what she was saying because, holy shit, she was stunning. She had the prettiest brown eyes Rick had ever seen. Her hair was pulled away from her face in a chignon. Her smile was so bright that it was blinding. Rick was awestruck.

“Sorry, yeah, yes. I uh, I’d like this wrapped, please,” he stammered, mentally chiding himself for not being smooth in front of the pretty girl.

He placed the box down on the counter and managed to smile at her. She smiled back at him and he swore his knees felt weak.

“Is it for a he, she, or they?”

“Pardon me?” asked Rick, still not able to function properly.

“Not that it actually matters,” she replied amicably. “But some customers choose wrapping paper based on if the gift is for a guy or a girl, so I have to ask.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay,” said Rick, while rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “It don’t matter to me. I mean, it’s for a lady, but anything is fine.”

Rick glanced down at the nametag on her lapel, which read Michonne. A pretty name for a pretty woman, he mused, tempted to say her name out loud to see how it felt on his lips. He was drawn from his reverie by Michonne asking, “Is it a Christmas gift?”

“Yes, a Christmas gift,” he replied, kicking himself for malfunctioning in front of gorgeous Michonne.

“Awesome,” she replied with that brilliant smile. “I have some really nice Christmas wrapping here. Do you want foil or paper?”

“Umm, paper?”

“Great choice,” she replied as she reached under the counter and got out a few items: Three rolls of wrapping paper, a pair of scissors, and a roll of cello tape. “Which do you prefer?”

Rick had to force his gaze away from Michonne to look down at the choices. There was a roll of paper with multi-colored stars, one with tiny Santas, and the other with snowflakes all over it. The snowflakes one was the nicest, but he knew his mama would think the Santa one was adorable. He chose the Santa paper.

“Great,” said Michonne. “I really like this one. It’s super cute.”

“Yeah,” said Rick as he watched Michonne get to work.

Her long, elegant fingers made it look so easy as she cut through the paper, placed the box on it, and then began to fold the wrapping around the gift. She was done way too quickly. Rick wanted to stand there and watch her for hours.

Yeah, creepy, Grimes, he chided himself.

“Thanks, that, uh, that looks great. You make it look easy. You’re really good.”

“Thanks, it’s just a lot of practice,” she replied, somewhat coyly. “Did you want a ribbon or a bow?”

“Yeah, thanks. A bow would be nice.”

“Alright, any preference?”

“A gold one?”

“A gold one it is,” Michonne replied with another grin, before placing a small golden bow in the center of the wrapped box. “Did you need a bag?”

“Yes, please, that’d be great,” said Rick as Michonne placed the box carefully into a small, paper bag.

She held the bag out to Rick and their fingers brushed against one another slightly. Rick thought he was going to pass out.

“Thank you,” he said, still standing there.

“You’re welcome,” she replied with a beautiful beam. “Happy holidays.”

“Oh, thanks. Yeah, you too. I mean happy holidays to you, too.”

They both stood there smiling bashfully at one another until another customer cleared their throat behind Rick.

“Umm, thanks again.”

“No problem,” said Michonne. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You too,” he said as he finally began to walk away. “Bye.”

…..

Now, Rick wasn’t a weirdo creep or anything like that, but he was a little smitten. He could not stop thinking about Michonne from the giftshop. He may or may not have went back to the mall and walked by the shop to see if she was there. They may or may not have caught one another’s eye and proffered friendly smiles. He may or may not be a crushing hard on the young woman.

A week after first meeting Michonne, Rick found himself back in the giftshop. He was pretending to be looking at the small jewelry boxes while stealing glances at Michonne. It was ridiculous, really. He was a broke college student who had already chosen the perfect gift for his mother. He didn’t even like shopping. He had no business being back in the shop. He was about to leave when Michonne finished up with the customer, and their eyes met.

Shit, he thought. Have to buy something, now.

He picked up the least expensive jewelry box and made his way to the checkout. He paid the same older lady from the previous week, and then took the boxed item to the end of the counter for Michonne to wrap.

“Hey, back again,” she greeted with her dazzling smile that made Rick feel all gooey inside.

“Hey, yeah, so much great stuff here,” he proffered, much more smoothly and confidently than he had been the first time they met.

“What’d you get?” she asked, causing him to stand up a little straighter. She wanted to have a conversation, he realized, and he was beyond happy.

“One of those little jewelry boxes,” he explained.

“Oh, yeah. For the rings.”

“Yeah, a ring box.”

“They’re really pretty.”

So are you, he thought.

“Yeah, they’re real nice.”

“Pretty paper for a pretty gift?” she asked warmly.

“Yeah, sure. That’d be good. You choose.”

“Alright, well, let’s go with this silver foil wrapping,” Michonne said as she took out what she needed.

“Okay, looks nice,” Rick said, wanting to keep talking to her while she worked. “You, uh, you got all of your Christmas shopping done? I mean, if you celebrate Christmas. Sorry, I shouldn’t assume everyone celebrates this particular holiday. That’s just inconsiderate on my part. I shouldn’t go around assuming things –”

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s fine,” she said with a little chuckle that settled into Rick’s chest and made him feel warm all over. “I do celebrate Christmas, and I actually did all of my shopping online back in September.”

“That’s smart,” said Rick, reining his nerves back in. “I left it late this year.”

Michonne nodded her head. The gift was wrapped, and she was placing a little red bow on top of it.

“Is this the last of your shopping?” she asked, reaching for a paper bag.

“Umm, maybe? I don’t know.”

“Well, whoever this is for is a very lucky person.”

Rick smiled at Michonne and took the bag from her hand.

“Thanks,” he said as he slowly moved away so the next customer could be served. “I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, I hope so,” she replied.

…..

He was going to do it. He was going to go the mall, make his way over to the giftshop, and ask Michonne out on a date. If he was lucky, he mused, she would say yes and they would go get coffee, or whatever she liked to drink, and he would charm her, and they’d have an amazing time, and then they’d fall in love and have a cute story to tell their grandbabies. He was going to do it. He was. He walked into the giftshop and Michonne wasn’t at her workstation. Rick sighed and decided to browse a little in the hopes that he would see Michonne sooner rather than later. When she wasn’t at the counter after five or so minutes, he was about to leave when another staff member approached him.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?” the teenaged boy asked.

“Hey, no thank you, I’m just browsing –”

Just then, Michonne came from the back of the shop and went to her spot at the end of the counter. A line of customers formed, and more were entering the shop, and Rick saw his chance at speaking with Michonne slipping away.

“Actually, I might get these,” said Rick, pointing to a box of six silver-plated, embossed coasters that were probably out of his price range.

“Great choice,” said the boy as he took the coasters from the shelf. “Let me ring it up for you.”

…

As the line grew shorter, and Rick got closer, he felt his resolve falling away. This was actually ridiculous. He was there spending money he couldn’t afford to be spending so that he could talk to a pretty girl? Ridiculous.

“Hey, so you’re still shopping?” Michonne asked with sweet smile.

“Hi,” said Rick with a bashful smile. “Yeah, just a few more things.”

He placed the coasters down on the counter and Michonne glanced down at them.

“These are really lovely,” she said before meeting Rick’s eyes with her own. “Any preference for wrapping?”

“Nah, I trust you,” said Rick, causing her to beam more brightly.

“Aww, so sweet,” Michonne replied before she began her work.

He watched her graceful hands as she cut a gorgeous square of paper and placed the item in the middle of it. She then cut a piece of red ribbon and sat the paper over it. Rick looked on as Michonne carefully and skilfully folded the paper and bound it together with the ribbon which she then tied in a bow on top. It was perfect. She didn’t need to use tape to hold it all together.

“You’re so good at that,” Rick complimented her again.

“You always say that,” Michonne replied. “But thank you. Hey, did you want to add a gift tag?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Rick replied, eager to spend more time with Michonne.

“Cool, let me just grab one for you,” she said, fishing out a brown tag from under the counter. She took a pen out of her pocket and then asked, “Who do I address it to?”

“Oh, umm. It’s for, ah, Sheila. It’s for Sheila,” said Rick, not really thinking about who the gift was for, since he hadn’t planned on even purchasing it to begin with. He went with his mother’s name.

Michonne nodded and then wrote Sheila in beautiful cursive on the small tag.

“And it’s from?”

“Rick. It’s from Rick. That’s me. I’m Rick.”

“Rick,” she said, and he swore hearing his name on her lips damn near made him ascend. “There you go, Rick.”

“Thank you, ah –”

“Michonne,” she said. “I’m Michonne. Nice to finally be properly introduced.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. Thank you, Michonne.”

Wow, it feels great to say her name out loud, he thought before smiling at her.

“You’re welcome, Rick,” she replied as she handed him the bag with the gift in it.

…..

“Rick? I need to borrow some drawers, man,” Shane called out as he walked into Rick’s bedroom and made a beeline to the tallboy.

“You don’t have any clean underwear?” asked Rick, as he glanced up from where he was sitting on his bed reading one of his textbooks.

“Nope, that’s why I need to borrow yours,” said Shane as he dug through the bottom drawer. “I’ll get ‘em back to you ASAP.”

“Ugh, no thanks. Keep ‘em.”

“Hey, man, what’s all o’ these?” asked Shane as he pointed to the gifts sitting atop the tallboy. “Hope you didn’t go buyin’ me anything.”

“They’re not for you.”

“Who’re they for then?”

“No one.”

“No one?” asked Shane dubiously as he picked one up and read the tag. “Sheila? As in your mama? You dumb enough to call her by her first name?”

“What? No. They’re not for mama. They’re just. I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“Rick, you’re not makin’ a lick of sense. You wanna explain?”

Rick let out a sigh and then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It’s stupid,” he repeated. “There’s this girl.”

“A girl named Sheila? You goin’ with some girl with the same name as your ma? That’s weird.”

“No, dumbass, there’s no girl named Sheila. Her name’s Michonne. I met her a few weeks ago. And she’s somethin’ else. I’m tellin’ you, man, she’s so gorgeous and sweet. And I’ve been meaning to ask her out, been buildin’ up to it, but I haven’t and I want to.”

“Okay, well, that’s cool, but what’s she got to do with all o’ these gifts? You gonna give ‘em to some girl you ain’t even asked out yet?”

“No, it’s not that,” said Rick as he took a deep breath. “She works at the classy lil’ giftshop I went to the other week. I got my mama’s gift from there, and Michonne wrapped it for me. I took one look at her and I was so gone on her.”

“Hold up. Hold up. So, you’re tellin’ me you’ve been goin’ back to the shop, buyin’ shit, and gettin’ this pretty girl to wrap them for you? Shit you don’t need, and probably can’t afford? Just so you can stand in front of this chick and not ask her out? And you’re callin’ me a dumbass?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Shane shook his head and then burst out laughing.

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“Get your ass down there and ask the girl out, Rick. Before you buy the whole goddamn store out you dumbass.”

…..

Shane was right, Rick was a dumbass because he was standing in front of Michonne with a little cat statue that she was calling gorgeous while trying to figure out how to wrap it. She sat it on some foil, drew it up around the figurine, and then tired it with ribbon at the top. It looked great.

“Sheila’s very lucky,” said Michonne as she placed it carefully into the bag filled with tissue paper.

“Sorry?” asked Rick, too distracted by the words running through his mind.

“Sheila, your girlfriend,” said Michonne, looking slightly deflated as she said the words. “She’s super lucky to have a boyfriend like you getting her all of these amazing gifts.”

Rick pressed his palm to his face. Yes, he was a dumbass.

“Oh, no, no. Sheila’s not my girlfriend. It’s my mama’s name.”

“You call your mom by her first name?”

“No, I don’t. I ah – shit. I’m sorry. It’s – damn it, let me explain. Do you go on a break soon, or?”

“Umm, yeah. Ten minutes or so. Why?” asked Michonne, with a questioning look on her face.

“Would you like to get some coffee with me?”

“Coffee? Like a coffee date?”

“Yes.”

“What about your girlfriend who you’ve been buying all the gifts for?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Rick explained. “I don’t even have anyone to be buyin’ all of these nice things for. Truth is, I’ve been comin’ in here trying to work up the nerve to ask you out.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Michonne, really,” he said gently. “I just wanna buy you a coffee. Or just spend some time with you. Would you wanna do that? Would you wanna spend some time with me?”

Michonne narrowed her eyes a little as she contemplated Rick’s request.

“Yeah, sure,” she said with a smile. “I’d like that.”

…..

Christmas day in the not too distant future…

“Dad, I love it, thank you so much,” said Carl as he smiled down at the gift that his father had given him.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” said Rick with a warm smile.

“I can’t open this,” said Judith as she tried to untie the intricate ribbon.

“Give it here, honey,” said Sheila as she reached out her hands. “Let grandma help you with that.”

The small girl handed the gift over and leaned against the old woman’s chair.

“Why don’t you check the stockings,” said Rick to his daughter.

“Oh yeah, I nearly forgot,” said Judith as she made her way to where the stockings were hanging over the disused fireplace at Sheila’s home. Her gaze landed on the little glass ornaments sitting atop the mantlepiece. One little glass puppy, and a cat statue sitting next to some coasters and a ring box. “Grandma, these are so cute. Where’d you get them?”

“Those were a Christmas gift from your daddy. They’re very special to me,” Sheila said with a fond smile.

“They’re special to me, too,” said Rick, as Michonne, André and R.J. came back into the living room with a tray of steaming beverages. She set it down on the coffee table and took up a seat next to her husband.

“We got hot chocolate,” said R.J. excitedly.

“And marshmallows,” André added.

“Thank you, my babies,” said Rick with a loving smile.

“Why?” asked Judith, ever the inquisitive child.

“Sorry, honey?” asked Rick.

“Why’re they special to you?”

“Because,” said Rick, as he turned to Michonne and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “If I didn’t go shopping for them, me and your mama might not have met.”

Michonne took hold of Rick’s hand and leaned in to kiss his lips.

“Well,” said Judith as she watched her parents stare lovingly at one another. “That means that they’re special to our whole family.”

“That’s true,” said Michonne as she leaned her head on Rick’s shoulder. “But you know what’s even more special?”

“What?”

“Our family,” Michonne replied happily. “Merry Christmas, Team Grimes.”

[angst-fairygodmother]

Feelings an’ Shit Ep1: Fall (Misfits; Nathan Young x Reader)

A/N: I’m not going to follow the whole continuity of the show, and most things are going to be in between/canon divergent but there’s a handful of episodes I want to do stuff with, including the first, since it only makes sense. Word Count: 2185 Rating: T - canon-typical violence, canon-typical swearing

You watched as the curly-haired kid bounced around, taunting the other one and couldn’t resist a snort of amusement. He turned back to you, flashing you a dramatic wink and waggling his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes, nodding back to Hat Guy who was still foaming at the mouth for a fight. Curly continued to antagonize, playing it up for the attention, and eventually Hat Guy had enough and went after him. After that, things became a bit of a blur of shouts and the probation worker pulling them apart. You made eye-contact briefly with the girl who’d been on her cell phone and you both rolled your eyes, laughing. 

If only you’d known then that this moment was the last normal one you’d have. 

~

“So what about you?” the curly-haired kid, Nate or whatever it was, asked, turning his paintbrush on you. “What’d you do gorgeous?”

You liked the sound of his lilt. But he needed to learn to shut up if you were ever going to get along with him, and you wanted to, if only because you were all stuck here. 

You shrugged. “I think the official labels were disturbing the peace and intimidation. And maybe something about rioting which seems unfair. It was just a little bar brawl, and it definitely wasn’t my fault. Although I did glass that guy. So maybe it was.” 

You tried to keep your voice nonchalant, painting away at the bench across from the quiet one, without looking up to see how the others reacted. If you were being honest, the crime you got stuck with wasn’t even the worst thing you had done, just the one that got attention. But these people, with their minor infractions and their ‘I shouldn’t be here’ attitudes (or maybe it was just the one guy) didn’t need to know that. 

“What about you Weird Kid,” Curly continued, apparently choosing not to comment on your offense as he had the others. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like a panty sniffer.”

You grimaced, offering him a sympathetic roll of your eyes. “Ignore him, he’s a moron.” you mouthed across the bench. The boy offered you a faint smile in return. 

Curly continued his antics, trying to provoke your new friend who finally snapped, “I tried to burn someone’s house down.”

Your eyebrows shot up, impressed, as Curly whined uncomfortably, instantly backing off. You didn’t have time to comment on his own excuse for getting picked up, eating pick-n-mix, before the probation worker came back, annoyed with you all for Hat Guy’s paint spill. 

Then a massive hailstone crashed into a car, and you were too scared to worry about much else. Several more fell as you all stared up at the unnatural stormcloud moving overhead, and you all took off running for the relative shelter of the building, panicked and doing your best to shield your faces and heads from the shrapnel. Some instinct made you lag behind, bringing up the rear to make sure that everyone stayed together, no one got left behind. 

You were just coming up on the rest of the group, the probation worker unhelpfully taking the time to lecture them about their language, when there was a flash of light and you felt yourself get thrown backwards. 

You came back to your senses a moment later, sprawled on the concrete, entire body aching like the worst hangover you’d ever had, times ten. Smaller but still massive hail smashed on the ground around you as you and the others slowly sat up or climbed to your feet. 

The probation worker seemed to be having some sort of fit as you all discussed what had just happened and whether everyone was alright. 

“We just almost got killed by freak lightning and hail. Fuck what anybody says, I’m outta here,” you snapped, dusting yourself off with some attempt at dignity. 

“She’s right,” the probation worker groaned, making you turn to gape at him. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

~

The next day passed in a blur: finding Hat Guy dead, the probation worker going berserk and nearly killing you all, super powers? It was all too much. By the time you were all out digging holes under the overpass, you found the activity strangely calming. 

You tried not to think too hard about that fact, since apparently Kelly could hear you. You debated offering a (metaphorical) hand of friendship to Alisha, maybe suggest some self-defense classes to help counter her fucked up powers, but seeing the way she snapped at Curtis you decided against it, for now. Then you were startled out of your thoughts by Nathan draping an arm around your shoulders. 

“So it looks like just the two of us that haven’t figured out our powers yet,” he observed, leaning on you.

You side-stepped out of his grasp, causing him to stumble, nearly ending up in Tony’s grave with him, and hid your smirk behind your hand.

“What’s your point?” you asked, tired and irritated and not wanting to put up with his shit.

“Maybe we should spend some extra time together, figure it out.” He waggled his eyebrows, a behavior you were starting to notice was a habit of his. 

‘This arrogant sod,’ you thought. ‘He’s really got the nerve to be standing there, not doing any work, hitting on me, while we are burying bodies. Who the hell does he think he is?’ 

You were furious, the more you thought about it. 

Suddenly, a wave roiled up from the river, crashing over Nathan, knocking him to the ground in a sopping puddle.

“What the hell?” Alisha shrieked, jumping back from the splash zone.

“Y/N. I think you did that,” Kelly pointed out.

You stared, wide-eyed. “No way.” 

“Ya were gettin’ pissed at Nathan, I heard it. Then he gets dunked on.”

“No. That’s...that would be...not fair.”

“You think having some sort of water control power isn’t fair?” Alisha looked like she was going to start something and you backed away, trying not to cry or vomit from the fear. “It’s a million times better than my shit power.”

“No. You don’t understand…” you felt like your throat was closing up. “It would be...sick. A sick joke. The universe can’t have that kinda humor.” You looked wildly around at them, five pairs of eyes fixed on you, trying to breathe and not think.

“Let’s just finish burying the bodies,” you said shakily, “forget this ever happened, and get out of here, yeah?”

~

The next morning you dragged yourself up out of bed, forcing yourself to dress in some ratty jeans and a tank top, braiding your hair with trembling fingers as you got ready for day three of community service. Even if there wasn’t going to be a probation worker there, even if you just went and then left, you had to make everything look as normal as possible.

“So, if anyone asks,” you heard Nathan say softly as you, Alisha, and Kelly all passed the guys on their way out of the locker room and your way in to change. “It was just a completely normal day.”

“Actually…” you caught their attention, holding them back a moment. “The new probation worker’s in there right now, digging around the office. They’re going to ask us questions, and we need to have our stories straight.”

“What story?” he protested, a little too loudly, earning a glare from Kelly and Curtis. “We saw nothing, we did nothing.”

“They’re not going to buy it. We were the last people to see either of them, and now they’re missing with no sign of where they went.”

“So what do you suggest, if you’re the mastermind with all the answers?”

You glared at him, then licked your lips nervously. “Look, I’m not going to volunteer it outright, but if we have to, I’ll tell them it was me.”

“Wot?!” Kelly asked, staring at you like you had just sprouted a new head.

“It’ll suck but better one of us goes down than all of us. I’m the one it’s most believable from.”

“No! No way!” You were surprised that Alisha was fighting you on it, expecting her to be the first to throw you under a bus in order to get away from it herself.  “You’ll go to prison!”

“Or we all will. I’m just being practical. If we’re lucky, they think we don’t know shit and we all walk away. But if they start asking questions, real questions,” you set your jaw, steeling yourself for the story you were going to spin. “Tony and I got in a fight over the shit he said while we were takin’ shelter from the storm. I got pissed, and I hit him until he stopped moving. Made you help me move the body. Then Hat Guy, what’s his name, was gonna snitch so I killed him too.”

“I don’t like this,” Curtis cut in. Nathan nodded slowly in agreement, eyebrows furrowed and far more serious than you had seen him so far. 

“What happens to you if we do this?” Alisha asked.

“They slap me in cuffs,” you wiggled your eyebrows suggestively, trying and failing to cut the tension. “Drag me down to the station, ask me a bunch more shit. Then I go away for a long time for murder, or they don’t believe me and I’m back on Monday.”

“Even if they don’t believe her,” Simon offered hesitantly. “They’ll be less likely to look at the rest of us. She has no reason to cover for us. We’re practically strangers.”

“Exactly.” You snapped your fingers, pointing at Simon. “See, he gets it.”

“Why would ya take the fall for us?” Kelly asked. 

You considered her question for a while, not really sure of the answer yourself. Then you sighed and shrugged, shoving your hands in the pockets of your jeans.

“I’m real good at screwin’ up, and lucky I’m not already jailed for it. Least now I can use that fact for a good cause.”

~

Nathan watched as the girl walked over to her locker in the back, casual as can be as if she hadn’t just offered to go down for a double murder. He tried not to show on his face how impressed, or turned on, he was. 

He considered staying, trying to catch a glimpse of her and see if her body was as dangerous and sexy as her mind seemed to be. 

“Yer disgusting,” Kelly scoffed, glaring at him until he left behind the other guys.

~

The six of you stood in a line, uncomfortable and awkward as you faced your new probation worker. She introduced herself as Sally, and said she’d been sent to take over your supervision.

“Gary and my colleague, Tony, have both been reported missing,” she continued, staring at each of you in turn, as if a little eye contact could drive her point home. “Their families are really worried about them.”

You rolled your eyes, not believing for a second that either of those two assholes had anyone out there looking for them. You tried, slightly, to hide your boredom. 

“Did any of you see anything unusual? Anything at all?”

Everyone glanced at each other uncomfortably out of the corners of eyes, shifting weight from foot to foot. 

‘They’ve got nothing,’ you found yourself thinking with relief. ‘Everyone keeps their mouth shut and it might actually work.’

Suddenly Nathan raised a finger in the air, looking nervous and uncomfortable, one might even call it scared, and you swore under your breath. Were you really so wrong to trust them, him? Was he about to snitch? Of course an idiot like him couldn’t stick to a cover story. Your mind raced, debating if you should start running and try for a lead on the cops. 

“A few days ago, I go into the toilets, Tony and Gary are in there - they’re butt naked. Tony’s got Gary by his hair - like this. He’s doing him - doggie-style,” you gaped as Nathan carried on. 

“Or...we could go with that,” you muttered watching Nathan’s antics and rubbing your forehead to stave off the growing headache (a headache you suspected was going to be semi-permanent and named Nathan Young). 

“I ask you - in a world of prejudice and intolerance - who are we, who are we to condemn them?”

Sally scoffed, rolling her eyes and storming off to the office. 

“Who wants a smoke?” Kelly asked, nodding her head toward the stairs, and you all followed, headed for the roof. 

~

“What the fuck was that down there?” you shouted at Nathan, gesturing angrily.

“It was me, improvisin, actin. I think I did a pretty good job, don’t ye?” he grinned smugly at you.

“I think you’re an idiot, and almost ruined the whole thing. Now even if I do try to take the fall, at the very least, your goose is cooked too.”

“So don’t try. I think we got away with it.”

“D’you actually believe that?” Curtis asked, staring dumbfounded at Nathan. “Or are you just really dumb?”

[idga-buck]

Some and Others, 3/?

Earth’s mightiest heroes save the city again, but that’s never the end of the story.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,301

Content: canon typical violence, death, destruction, swearing

Bucky was going to call. He just didn’t. He was surprised you hadn’t and overwhelmingly disappointed that it meant if he was going to apologize, it was a conversation he’d have to initiate himself. It could wait though. Just a little longer while he figured out what he wanted to say.

A week later, the Post ran a story about the same gossip site that had leaked your photo of him being shut down after many of their stories and photos were found to be fake. A rarity for the world of journalism these days, Sam noted casually as they stopped at a newspaper cart. Bucky bought a couple candy bars and watched the man with the thick black mustache and the gold chain slip copies of the article in front of a few of his worst sellers. Could he actually be that lucky? It was an easy out after a week of dodging questions and trying to remind the world to stay out of his business.

“So that photo of you? The secret girlfriend?” Sam waited for Bucky to respond, but when the centenarian opted to buy a Pay Day instead, he watched closer. Bucky hated that. Sam said he had a staring problem, but Sam was the one with x-Ray vision. He could read people, read a room, read Steve’s body language from across a battlefield and adjust his position without being told. As annoyed as Bucky acted when paired up with Sam Wilson, he was one of the few people in this century that Bucky Barnes respected. Truly. Except for that moment on a street corner when brown eyes were scanning his complete lack of guts and deciding what was worth commenting on.

“Yeah,” Bucky ripped open the wrapper a little too aggressively and responded with peanuts between his teeth. “It wasn’t real.”

Sam nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets while Bucky stuffed his face. “I don’t know how you land the fake girlfriend story, when I’m right here,” they started walking away from the stand while Sam jabbered on. “And lookin’ as fine as I do? Come on, man,” he danced ahead of Bucky a few steps, forcing him to look up. “You know this would make a better story.”

Before Bucky could say anything, a loud crash echoed between the buildings. Nothing was visible from their block, but both men, trained for combat, were instantly on alert.

“That for us?” Sam asked, eyeing the busy intersection.

“No,” said Bucky, a clipped tone in his voice as he shook his head and started walking again.

Another crash, this time accompanied by the faint human noises that usually follow tragedy.

“You sure about that?” Sam’s eyebrow shot up.

Sirens from every kind emergency response vehicle blared in the distance, growing louder then quieter again as they wove their way through the streets, changing directions to avoid traffic.

Bucky pointed at a passing fire truck, waiting until it had turned down another street before speaking. “See? They got it.”

Then Sam’s phone rang and Bucky swore, planting his hands on his hips while whoever was on the other line confirmed that the emergency growing in the distance was in fact for them. Sam placed the call on speaker and gave their current location. Stark’s voice was muffled and metallic, the way it usually was while calling from inside his fancy helmet, but he told them to stay put as he did a fly by with Sam’s equipment.

“Tell the Tin Man he’s got a special delivery,” Tony informed them from somewhere overhead.

“They're your wings,” Bucky grumbled, looking up from the ground as the familiar glare of Iron Man’s thrusters came into view. “And your robot.”

“First of all,” Sam informed him. “Red Wing isn’t a robot. He’s a drone.”

“It,” Bucky corrected, “is a robot.”

“I’m gonna tell him you said that,” said Sam before pointing up to where Iron Man had doubled back to get a better angle. “And… unlike some of us present, my body is exactly as God created it, flesh and bone.”

“Pop up, deep center,” Tony’s voice rang out obnoxiously through Sam’s phone once more.

Bucky watched a black bundle falling from the sky, trying to position himself under it and pushing more than one pedestrian out of his way to do so. “Actually, I was a catcher back in ‘32.”

“THEN CATCH!” Sam hollered just before the EXO Falcon gear landed square in Bucky’s chest, forcing him off his feet and onto his ass, skidding to a stop on a sidewalk while the people around them scattered, gasping and grabbing at their phones to take pictures of the two Avengers. Bucky laid flat on his back, both arms still wrapped around the bundle, and took a deep breath when Sam stood over his head, arms shooting out to his sides as he yelled “SAFE!”

Bucky groaned and tossed the black bag up into Sam’s arms, hard enough to make him stumble but not enough to knock him down. “Should have said ‘out.’” Bucky grumbled and Sam chuckled as he dug through the bag for his equipment. “Safe makes it sound like I-”

“You really wanna argue about baseball right now,” Sam laughed, securing his wings over his torso and releasing them both with a flash as if stretching before a fight. “Or are we gonna go save the world?” Bucky didn’t answer, just took off running in the direction of the screams. “That’s what I’m talking about,” said Sam to himself, shooting up into the air.

…

Robots. Drones. Whatever they, Bucky Barnes has decided that he hates them.

Fighting Nazis was easy. Not physically. Not when your gun isn’t really yours and the food sucks and you’re almost as worried about losing your toes as you are losing your team. But it made sense. These men in their wool coats wanted innocent deaths. Something in Bucky that had been there all along was born anew in the war. He was a protector. Of his sisters, of Steve, of his country. It made sense.

Nothing about Hydra made sense and the therapist he stopped seeing told him it was okay to think about those years differently than the rest. So he did.

When T’challa presented him with a black vibranium canon for his left side, the enemy was otherworldly. Literally. They didn’t bleed like men. They made horrible screeching noises when they died, but even that was different from me. They rode disgusting creatures with teeth that could have scratched his arm if he’d let them get close enough. They were invaders, their leader sought destruction on an even greater scale than the War. Bucky was a protector again, protector of Earth, of life in the universe. An unimaginable title for the boy he’d been, sitting in front of the radio with his family and marveling at the president's voice. It’s not like he was eager to do it again, but space invaders whose goal was universal genocide would be met with the business end of Bucky’s favorite rifle.

Fighting robots, however, was fucked up.

Bucky was still processing his new life, still getting used to the idea that people carried plastic cards in their wallets and could pull money out of the walls with just a few buttons. There were movie theaters with screens two stories high. Cars plugged into the sides of hotels. The cell phone in his pocket was overwhelming as is. In a few minutes, he could buy all the clothes he’d ever need, pay for dinner, and talk to people across the country. It was baffling.

All this technology, all this progress, and of course there were people who weaponized it. Bucky hated that. He remembered science fairs, remembered Howard Stark’s big promises. There was so much hope in him as a young man. He’d live to drive a flying car, his children would learn about the world through a holograms in their livingroom, his grandchildren would live on the moon. The possibilities were endless. So much so that people with horrible intentions for the world also believed that the possibilities were endless, forcing Bucky into his current position.

His thighs were wrapped around the base of a machine, arms wound near the top. He threw his shoulders back with all of his might, squeezing his legs in the process, and didn’t stop until the metal gave way. Bucky fell onto the pavement with his own momentum, the enemy in two pieces with wires exposed and frizzling as they died. He dropped the robot and rolled to his side, observing the scene around him. Steve used a cleaner approach and sent his shield flying through the air. Three more bots’ were sliced in two, the last of which was pinned by the shield into the side of a brick building. Sam circled above, with Redwing swooping below to draw laser fire away from bystanders while Wanda tried her best to herd them away, spinning to throw angry red energy at anything that came their direction.

“Sergeant Barnes!” The familiar and overly excited voice of the kid in blue and red spider gear startled Bucky. The kid swung in unexpectedly, decked out and ready to help. Bucky didn’t care that he was probably skipping school to do so and swung his vibranium arm behind him, the metal of another droid crunching under his elbow. “How can I help?”

Bucky squinted, a little dumbfounded at the question. There was a six block radius being overrun with droids, drones, robots- whatever- and people were terrified. “Pick something,” he grunted, taking the robot's head… top part, between his hands and twisting until it gave way and the bottom half dropped powerless to the ground.

Just then the sound of metal screeching pulled both their eyes to a city bus being thrown around like it was weightless, crunching the vehicles nearby, and sending more people into a frenzy as buildings were still evacuating onto the street. “That! Pick that!” Bucky commanded and the kid flew away, attached to a white string like a kite. Two more robots were approaching from the sidewalk, red eyes glowing and ready to fire. Bucky looked around the street for something, anything that he could use before deciding on a minivan. The windows looked clear, driver and passengers already scampering away at the first sign of trouble, so Bucky planted his boot into the back door and kicked. The door caved in and the vehicle flipped onto its side before skidding to a halt on the sidewalk and crushing the robots beneath it.

“Uh! MISTER BARNES, SIR, SARGE-!”

Bucky turned back to look at Peter, propped up on a light pole and leaning so far back his body was almost parallel to the ground. The only thing keeping him upright was the two thick white webs attached to the bus, one at the front and one at the back. It was tipping over dangerously low, trapping a small group of people between the bus and two buildings, one that had smoke billowing out the windows. This was a mess.

Bucky ran through the street, jumping onto the hoods of abandoned cars to avoid weaving between them before leaping off an SUV and rolling back into a run on the sidewalk. A laser struc Peter, knocking him clean off his perch, and the webs supporting the bus went dangerously slack as it started tipping toward the trapped people again. Bucky jumped, wedging himself between the building and the collapsing bus with great effort. His shoulders dug into the brick behind him and his thighs burned as he shoved the bus away from the wall, gritting his teeth as he felt it slowly start to tip away from the ground. The kid was now on the ground somewhere out of sight and Bucky had to hold back from sending the vehicle flying, lest he squash Stark’s favorite spider in the process. The tension in his legs grew as he held it steady, adjusting his feet and shoulders until he felt it wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey!” He called out to the people below him. “Get out of here, go!”

There were rushed thank yous and lots of tears as the crowd dispersed from their trapped position. But one voice stood out among them and it made Bucky’s heart speed up.

“Bucky?! Oh my god, BUCKY!”

Bucky’s eyes were closed under the strain, but he’d know your voice anywhere. He opened them just in time to see Peter recover and zip off in a new direction. Bucky released his breath and shoved his feet out hard, tipping the bus back. He dropped from the wall and grabbed you as the bus wobbled precariously in both directions before finally falling into traffic and directly onto the roof of an empty red sports car.

Bucky hadn’t realized how tight he was holding you until you said his name again and the word was broken. His arms relaxed a bit, but you made no move to run away… or let go of his jacket. The two of you just stared at each other, breathing heavily, before screaming drew your eyes away. The small crowd of people you’d been stuck with were running away from where you stood, but the two in the back collapsed, their bodies charred and heavy as they hit the ground. You screamed then and Bucky pulled your back into his chest, hugging your stomach as you keeled over. He’d seen so much death in his hundred odd years, it was hard to witness it with these fresh eyes. You weren’t prepared to watch two innocent people’s skin melting under lasers. Hell, neither was Bucky and while you cried in his arms, the smell of burning flesh stung his eyes. He’d never get over that smell, no matter how many world wars he participated in. His face was buried in the back of your head, shushing you as he lifted you up. He took careful backwards steps until you were both hidden in the same alley you’d just been trapped in. Bucky looked up at the burning building and decided he had a minute before you were both in danger here.

“Hey,” he said softly when you went limp against his chest. “Hey now,” he repeated, spinning and almost dropping you when he realized you hadn’t just relaxed… you were unconscious. “Shit,” Bucky dropped to his knees and let your body lean up against his chest, slapping at your cheeks and calling your name to try and wake you up. Half of your face was red with blood from a wound he couldn’t see somewhere in your hair. Break up or no break up, he couldn’t leave you like this. Any other person, he’d run them to safety and double back to continue clearing the streets. But this wasn’t any person. It was the girl he dumped in the middle of a restaurant and had continuously put off calling to explain himself. He hadn’t gotten the chance to clear the air and leaving you to wake up in a few hours in the middle of a destroyed midtown was just too cruel. He did like you and now it felt like he owed you.

Bucky picked you up like a doll and slung you around to his back, crossing your arms over his chest as your legs dangled behind his knees. That wasn’t going to work, he decided after only a few steps. “Can you hold on a little-“ Bucky drifted off as he turned his face to see your face hidden behind him, your forehead limply resting against his shoulder. “Of course not,” he berated himself and stopped to adjust again. This time he stooped, grabbing one of your arms and one of your legs with his hands. You were slung over his shoulders like a backpack, the same way he carried goats in Wakanda, only much easier since you weren’t kicking or screaming and he had two hands with which to wrangle you.

His steady march out of the fray was interrupted once by Wanda. After directing pockets of people to safety, she’d sought out the source of the invasion. Bucky looked around for a safe place to stow your body and found an SUV that was abandoned but still running with the doors unlocked to lay you out across the backseat, carefully tucking your feet in before slamming the door behind him. He liked Wanda, despite not knowing what exactly she was capable of, but liked her a lot less when he found himself immersed in a glowing red forcefield and being lifted into the sky. When he was forced through the large glass window of another building only to look up and find her floating gently through the hole his body had created, she shrugged.

“This way was faster,” she said, Sokovian accent much softer than their first meeting.

“Right,” Bucky groaned, making a mental note of how many Avengers could zip through the air with ease and the odds of being the one she found on the ground.

They raced up the final set of stairs and Bucky ripped the maintenance door to the roof off its hinges. It was unlucky that Bucky and Wanda had been the ones to find the bastard responsible. If it had been Steve, he’d been bound and handed over to the authorities. Tony might have thrown him in armored vehicle and shook him around a bit before demanding answers. Bruce… depending on the day wouldn’t have been much better. Nat would have gotten answers easier than either of them and Sam was easily the most noble of the bunch, so Bucky had no idea what he’d do. The right thing, whatever that was. But Wanda wasn’t particularly fond of people who harmed innocent people. The motivation didn’t much matter to her when the sounds of children crying could be heard in the streets. Bucky didn’t have much grace for people who were smart enough to help, but broken enough to hurt. Like the bastards in Hydra, who healed him, kept him alive, gave him extraordinary strength then weaponized him. Anyone who had this level of technological advancement and chose to bring destruction with it was a waste of air. Wanda hoisted the man up into one of her angry red orbs while Bucky broke the control panel into as many pieces as he could, destroying anyone else’s opportunity to learn from this guy. Neither of them had anticipated this guy to be so well armed. It looked like a pistol, but whatever it fired managed to get through Wanda’s energy field and pierce her shoulder, breaking her focus just enough for him to drop back onto the roof. He took off running to the edge and leapt, but Wanda recovered faster, using her powers to yank him back. Bucky caught him in the air and squeezed, locking the man in a painful hold until he noticed glowing red numbers counting down behind the man’s neck. Shit.

“Bucky!” Wanda pointed at the man’s hands, wrapped threateningly around a plunger that could only mean one thing.

Without a better option, Bucky turned back to edge. He released the man and as he tried to stumble forward, Bucky’s boot landed square against his sacrum, launching the man through the air and into a neighboring building in a ball of fire. Both Avengers watched the corner offices go up in flames, disgust and horror in both their eyes.

“The whole block was evacuated,” Wanda said softly and Bucky nodded. There was a distinct lack of screaming coming from the direction of the building and sirens soon flooded the streets below as first responders made their way into critical areas. From the ledge, both of them watched as the remaining bots dropped to the ground before their team, disengaging en masse. Steve looked up from atop a bodega and saluted the sky in their general direction, lifting the shield as a second acknowledgment before jumping down to the street to start… whatever Captain America does once the threat has been neutralized. The PR and clean up stuff wasn’t Bucky’s scene and he turned away, making it all the way across the roof, still observing the scene below, before remembering that you were somewhere, either still unconscious or just waking up, deeply confused in the back of a stranger’s car.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, wanting to make sure before asking Wanda for any favors.

She pulled her hand away from her shoulder, black nail polish and red blood looking menacing and downright witchy against her pale fingers. “I’ll be alright,” she assured him, eyes already glowing red as she prepared to offer more aid.

Bucky stopped her and nodded over the side of the building. “Gimme a lift?”

She snorted and waved her fingers without looking at him and soon enough, Bucky found himself falling on his ass once again. He needed to work on his dismount if this was going to become a regular pairing. Thankfully or maybe not, you were trying to wake up as Bucky slipped into the driver’s seat and commandeered the vehicle. He turned back to watch you whine in pain as you tried to sit up, before slipping back into sleep when he told you to stay down. You were in and out for most of the drive, which helped Bucky weave up and over curbs to avoid stagnant areas where everyone had abandoned their cars out of fear.

…

You woke up with a headache, exasperated by the bright lights of the emergency room. Bucky could see the moment you came to by the hard squinting that melted into a grimace. You’d had a couple false starts, but when your eyes opened and locked on his, Bucky knew it was the real deal this time. He stood to pull back the curtain and immediately a nurse was shimmying her way into your space, brushing her chest against Bucky’s in the process. He nodded and gave her a tight smile. It had been like that since he walked into the ER with you. Avengers carrying blacked out civilians get a lot of attention, but they also get speedy service. Which is what Bucky told himself when he stuck around once you’d been admitted. You’d get better care if he stayed with you, so he did. Feet propped up on the end of your bed and dropping whenever someone came to run another test. He wasn’t family and didn’t claim to be, so they told him nothing, but nurses managed to smile flirtatiously in between doing their job. In another life, Bucky would have… done something. Anything. He smiled. He was a hundred, not dead, but there was something off putting about receiving these looks when you were asleep right there between hanging curtains in an overrun hospital as ambulances and families started to arrive from the mess he’d just left.

You answered their questions slowly, but correctly. Your name, where you were, what year it is, who the president is. The doctor would be in soon and Bucky took the minute of alone time to scoot the chair they’d brought in for him. You were watching him expectantly as the legs scraped across the floor, just a few inches before he could reach a hand out to yours. You looked down curiously at your hand in Bucky’s.

“They spelled my name wrong,” you murmured and Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut as you lifted your joined hands to observe the little plastic bracelet closer. He shook his head, wanting to apologize, but also hoping you wouldn’t connect the dots that he’d given them your information incorrectly. “Bucky?” He looked up to find your eyes wider than usual, a little more vulnerable than he was used to seeing you and wanted to do something to make you feel better. But like the entirety of your relationship, he had no idea how to do that.

“You’re okay,” he nodded, telling himself as much as he was telling you.

“Thank you,” you squeezed his fingers as your voice shook.

Just then a man in a white coat, pushed back the curtain and Bucky stood reflexively, dropping your hand in the process. He turned back and saw your face fall before crossing your arms over your chest and looking away from him.

“Sergeant Barnes,” the doctor addressed him first.

“Bucky,” he corrected without thinking and turned his body, opening up the room a bit and directing attention back to what mattered. The patient. You.

“Thank you for bringing her in,” the doctor continued, then looked back and forth between the two of you. “We’ve got it from here, if you need to-”

“He can stay,” you piped up. The doctor asked if you were sure, but you were. The doctor nodded, turning fully toward the bed and while that was Bucky’s goal, he now felt completely out of place in the tiny space.

“First things first,” the doctor started. “You and the baby are just fine, so I don’t want you worrying about that at all. Do you have a OB or a-”

Bucky stopped listening at that moment and focused on the roaring ocean in his ears. He looked to the bed where you were listening intently to what the doctor was saying, nodding and shaking your head mechanically. While he stared, you stole a glance in his direction. Your face was blank and he didn’t spend much time trying to read it.

“This sounds personal,” he said, voice flat and vibranium hand already reaching for the curtain at the end of your bed. “Take care.” Without sparing another look, Bucky walked through the busy emergency room with his left hand tucked into his front pocket, making him invisible to anyone who didn’t know he was there.

A/N: Here we go! It’s happening. I’m not sold on the way this ended but it was getting long as is and don’t worry, Bucky will have his chance to make it up to you.

Tags: @fangirl-swagg @learisa

[prettyguardiankore-blog]

Love in Literacy, ch8 (Levi x fem!reader)

-Levi POV-

(updated on my ao3)

So? What do you say?” he said, reaching a hand to Levi. "Will you join the Scouts?”

Levi glared at him in contempt. How dare he offer him his hand, as if they were on equal footing, after restraining him, beating him, and shoving his face into the filthy mud. Levi turned his head.

“Fine.”

He smiled.

“Very good.”

Erwin Smith, I will kill you. That is a promise.

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Levi pushed open the door, bringing up his hand to cover his eyes as the stunning morning light hit his face. The sheer power of the sun still hadn’t failed to impress him since he’d arrived. Once his eyes adjusted to the light, he stared up at the piercing blue sky, decorated with fluffy, large clouds. A gust of warm air ruffled his hair. It’s beautiful, no doubt about it. When he thought about the irony of such a lovely day being paired with the daunting task ahead of him, he couldn’t help but crack a small, bitter smile.

📷

He hoisted his satchel over his shoulder, walked down the steps, and to the stables. Isabel and Furlan had left earlier in the morning to tend to their horses before the expedition, so he was going to meet up with them there. He mindlessly walked through the outer castle at a leisurely pace, despite the fact that he was tight on time. As he walked, her face popped in his head. The small smile glued to her face, paired with sad, weary eyes, as she slowly extended her hand to meet his own.

Please be safe tomorrow.

Easier said than done, he thought, rubbing his neck. Well, whatever. It’s not like he was planning on doing otherwise, anyway. All three of them knew that their safety came before anything. The expedition, the client, they had no ties to either. All of this was for their future prosperity. A life on the surface, where they didn’t have to deviate from the law to barely just survive or watch their back with every step they took. That future was so close within his grasp he could taste it… and under no circumstances was he going to let it escape him now.

“Levi!”

Levi shot his head back up, he hadn’t realized he’d been staring at the ground as he made it to the stables. He gave Isabel and Furlan a small nod as they ran over to meet him.

“Ya took way too long, bro!” Isabel scolded, placing her hands on her hips. “We gotta leave right now!”

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” he responded, dismissively, as he moved past them to his horse. He reached up and pat down its mane. It seemed to relax at his touch, leaning its head into the contact. Should I give it a name…?

“Got all your stuff ?” Furlan asked, motioning towards his bag.

“Mhm.”

“Excellent!” Furlan grinned, as he gave Levi a hard slap on the back. “What an exemplary soldier you’ve turned into!” he teased, with a mischievous grin. Levi glared up at him, but he couldn’t help but be amused at the comment. The three of them walked back over to the stables, hoisted themselves onto their horses, and began a slow trot out to the main gate.

“How long had you guys been up?” Levi asked, turning to Furlan.

“Maybe a little over an hour before you, Isabel wanted to ‘mentally prepare’ her horse, whatever that means.” Furlan replied, shooting Isabel a bemused look. She gave him a wide smile, softly stroking her horse's neck.

“I’m thinkin’ it worked! He seems really calm right now.” she said, looking down at the animal with loving eyes.

“I see.” Levi said, shooting his own horse a quick look. How can she tell, is my horse relaxed? Well, it was probably just because it was Isabel, she had always been good with animals.

Silence fell between the three of them as they walked through the inner city. They all felt a responsibility to say something, but the words simply wouldn’t form. Eventually, Furlan broke the silence.

“How are you guys feeling?” Furlan asked, quietly.

“Like… I could pee, but also puke...but also I feel really excited!” Isabel piped, completely ignoring the disgusted look Furlan was giving her.

“Such a way with words,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“You asked!” she responded defensively, “And what about ya? How are ya guys feelin’?”

Furlan stared down at the reins in his hands, thinking about his answer, before looking up somewhat defeatedly.

“Same as you, I suppose.” he finally said, and Isabel let out a sharp cackle, and the corners of Levi’s lips upturned at the back and forth.

“What about you, bro?” Isabel asked, leaned forward to look past Furlan and meet his eyes.

“I’m just happy to have this be over with,” he said lazily.

“What a boring answer.” Isabel pouted.

“Just being honest.”

“He does have a point though, after this is all done and over with, we can live happily on the surface.” he beamed, “Maybe Levi could open up a tea shop, and I could finally ask a beautiful librarian out on a date, and Isabel…” he looked back at her blankly, “Maybe she could become a pig farmer?” he concluded. Isabel’s mouth fell open in offense.

“Pig farmer?!” she exclaimed, in a shrill voice, “No way I'm becomin’ a pig farmer!”

“Just being realistic.” he shrugged, nonchalantly, as Isabel seethed next to him.

“If ya wanna talk realistic, asking her out and succeeding?” she scoffed, “She’s way too good for ya! And anyways, ya barely even know her!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” he responded, looking back down, blushing slightly to himself. Levi observed him intently. What does that mean ? Had they been seeing each other privately? Suddenly, Furlan's eyes widened, and he smacked himself in the head.

“Oh crap!”

“What?” Isabel asked, puzzled.

“I was supposed to read something yesterday night, but I completely forgot...” he said, brows furrowed. “Well no matter, I’ll just read tonight.” he murmured assuredly to himself. Levi cocked a brow. He wasn’t going to even bother asking. It wasn't any of his business what he did with his free time, anyway.

“Since when do ya have a reading sched-?” Isabel began.

“Well whatever we do, from here on out," He said, completely ignoring Isabel’s question. "We actually have a choice. We get to decide how we will live our lives from here on out.” he finished, eyes softening. Isabel snapped her mouth shut, and nodded firmly. With that in mind, they continued through the city, marching forward towards their futures.

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“We will now begin our 23rd Reconnaissance mission, onward!” Shadis bellowed, thrusting his blade into the air. Veins pulsated from the top of his head. The man was so tense that he looked like he might explode if he pricked himself with a sewing needle. The soldiers echoed his war cry as the large metal gate lifted open with a deafening creak, and they charged through. Levi, Isabel, and Furlan were positioned near the back, with the rest of their squad. The sound of their horse’s hooves pounding into the pavement left a slight buzzing in Levi’s head. Levi gripped on his reins tightly, and with a strong flick of his wrist, sent his horse flying forward. Isabel and Furlan followed him closely at either side of him. Some gray clouds had begun to creep up behind them, but it didn’t look like it was going to rain quite yet. Levi swallowed. As much as he’d tried to prepare himself, now that he was exiting the gate, it occurred to him how quickly this was all happening.

Until three weeks ago, he’d believed that he’d be living in the Underground for the rest of his life. Paying for papers was a lengthy and horribly expensive process. And if he’d somehow scraped his way to the surface illegally, he would’ve had to live in hiding without his documents. Yet here he was, after a life in the dark, all they had to do was make it to the end of the day, and their unattainable dream would be in the palm of their hands. They could all live happily together within the safety of the walls.

He gazed out at the horizon and the vast land set out before his eyes. He could see lush green hills to the east. He heard squawking and turned his focus up to the flock of birds that flew overhead. An unfamiliar feeling of hope blossomed in his chest as he watched their delicate wings, pumping rhythmically in the wind.

“Wow!” Isabel breathed, eyes bright, “Look at all this land!”

“We did it.” Furlan murmured, as he looked to the hills in disbelief.

“It's not bad.” Levi muttered.

“Hey you three! Don’t get too distracted, you’ve never seen a titan in real life, so you need to be prepared!” A female soldier scolded. She was a petite woman who wore long brown pigtails that sat either side of her head. Although Levi couldn’t remember her name, he knew that she’d been pretty helpful to Isabel when they’d first arrived.

“No sweat Kiera! If we see one, we’ll clean it up nice n good for ya!” Isabel chirped. So that’s her name.

“Idiot! Do you want to be the first one to die?” Kiera scolded, giving her a look of disbelief. Isabel winced in embarrassment.

"Sorry Kier-"

“Fifteen meter, up ahead!”

Their faces shot back forward. Levi had had Titans described to him many times before leaving the walls, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the real thing. How could something appear so human, yet so inhuman all at once? The monster sloppily ran over towards their formation, each step it took leaving a resounding thump that seemed to shake even the air. It's beady eyes stared at them mindlessly.

“We’ll take care of this!” Furlan shouted, as he and Isabel shot up to face the titan. The other Scouts in their formation gaped at them in shock.

"What the hell are you guys doing?!" Kiera shouted, eyes wide.

Isabel aimed herself from the front, and Furlan from the back. She raised her blades over her head, and if he had to guess, he would say that she was going for its eyes. But as she did, the Titan shot his hand out and caught her, and she yelped in surprise. Levi’s eyes widened in shock, and without thinking, he propelled himself forwards to free her.

“Levi! I’ve got this!” she shouted, as she sliced its hand open, freeing herself. While she dealt with that, Furlan landed the killing slice on its neck. It staggered, and then collapsed forward, shaking the ground. The three of them landed gracefully down with it. Thank god, he thought, wiping the sweat from his head. Or, he thought it was sweat. He looked up to the sky, and saw that the shadowy clouds had made their way overhead, sprinkling light rain over them.

“Did you see that! We killed it all by ourselves” Isabel gushed. She was practically vibrating with excitement.

“I guess so.” Levi said quietly. He was still recovering from the shock of seeing his friend in danger.

"That was certainly unexpected." Kiera murmured, gazing at them with slight awe.

“You used too much gas.” A voice behind him said. All the heads in the group turned. Levi swivelled around, and met eyes with Captain Erwin, staring down at him from his horse.

“What?”

“You used too much gas. All those movements... they’re unnecessary. They were able to handle it without your intervention.” He answered, with a stony gaze. Levi looked back in disbelief.

“Are you telling me to place our supplies over the lives of our comrades?” he said menacingly, stepping forward. Erwin observed his face, not saying anything, before letting out a long sigh, and turning back to his horse.

“I’m telling you to be more wary of the way you use your resources. They’re scarce out here.” he said, as he got back onto his saddle. "Don't waste them."

With that, he and his squad went charging back from where they came from.

The way he looked down at him, the way he spoke of his friends as if they were expendable pawns in his game, everything about Erwin’s demeanor in that situation sent Levi's chest into a bubbling rage. He couldn't contain himself any longer. It was time to do what he come here for.

“I’m going up ahead.” he said, quietly, adjusting his hood, and hoisting himself back onto his horse. “I’m gonna kill that bastard for sure now.”

Isabel and Furlan shot each other uneasy looks.

“Are ya sure about that?” Isabel asked, turning her head back to him, eyes shrouded with doubt.

“Yeah, maybe it would be better if the three of us stuck together.” Furlan added.

“No, all three of us leaving from our positions would be too obvious.” he said, shaking his head. “If anyone asks where I’ve gone, just tell them that I moved up ahead to survey the land before we moved forward.”

Furlan sighed, before giving him a small, reassured smile.

“Okay, fine.”

“We’ll see you soon, bro!” Isabel grinned, giving him a small wave. Levi nodded, and turned his horse to the opposite direction. He peered back over his shoulder, and watched as their silhouettes got smaller and smaller, until they had completely disappeared into the mist.

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The light drizzle had quickly shifted into a full on downpour, the wind howling, and pushing back against him as he sped after Erwin. This is it, he thought. All of his efforts had led up to this moment. He squinted, though he could hardly see anything through the rain. But he wasn't going to lose him, that was for sure. He’d use the veil of the rain to his advantage in the assassination. He whipped his reins, and his horse leapt forward, letting out a shrill neigh. As he looked onward, he could see a spot where the rain was beginning to clear up, and he steered towards it. When he rode through, his eyes widened in surprise, and he tugged back on his reins just quickly enough to avoid falling down. It was a cliff edge. What the fuck? Where had Erwin gone, then? He scowled. Sneaky bastard, he thought, turning his horse back to regroup with his team. As he rode back, he kept a watchful eye out for the Erwin's group, but to no avail. It was impossible to see past the fog. How does the weather up here change so fast? Suddenly, he saw a figure slowly inching towards him, emerging from the veil of mist. A soldier? He quickly pulled his reins back, to avoid crushing the man's head with his horse. He heard a low, raspy voice coming from below him. A soldier he recognized but didn't know the name of. Dark red blood poured from his head and covered his face. But it didn’t hide the pure terror on his expression as he looked up to Levi, with desperate, wild eyes. He crawled over with his arms, and as he got closer, Levi realized his legs were completely torn off. Levi’s eyes widened as the man stretched a single shaky arm out to him.

“T-the titan… a-an abnormal, i-it came...” he groaned. He spat up some blood, and looked back at him in confusion, “W-where’s Erwin…?”

Levi watched silently as he took his final breath and collapsed on the ground. The world around Levi fell silent. He had come from the direction Levi had. Was this Abnormal back where he’d left Isabel and Furlan? Dread filled the pit of his stomach, as he quickly turned his horse around and began racing through the storm, heart going off like a jackhammer in his chest. How did I not see it when I was coming this way...could I have just passed it? Considering how thick the mist was, and how loudly the rain pounded into the soil, it was entirely possible. But he didn't want to believe it, so he just excluded it as an option mentally. He gripped the reins of his horse tightly, knuckles going a stark white. Please be okay, you two.

Soon, he arrived in the open land where he’d split off from them, straining his eyes to make out what was in front of him. The overwhelming scent of iron flooded his senses, the once bright green land was stained with dark blood. Bodies were strewn sloppily over the grass.

“What the hell happened here…?” he murmured to himself, sliding himself off of his horse. He took slow, steady steps forward, unsheathing his blades, as his eyes darted back and forth, looking for the titan responsible. As he walked, felt his boot kick something. He flinched very slightly, and he looked down to see what it was. When he did, his mind went blank, refusing to process the sight before him.

Isabel.

It was a head. Isabel’s head, completely torn off from her body. Blood gushed from her neck, mixing into a dark pool of rainwater and mud on the ground. Her eyes were still widened in terror, lips slightly parted open. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he jolted backwards, breathing heavily. His mind was racing. I left them alone...I should’ve stayed with them… they wanted to stay together… He felt a lump growing in his throat.

"We’ll see you soon, bro!"

He leaned down, reaching out a shaky hand out to stroke her hair, until he saw a large, shadowy figure move from up ahead. He tore his eyes away from Isabel and looked back up. His heart pounded in his ears. There it was. It stood on all fours, muscles pulsating animalistically as it jerked its head violently to the side, tearing off a bite from a soldier, sending their upper half flying into the ground with a resounding splash. He squinted to make out the face of the soldier. Furlan. As his body hit the ground, he let out a guttural cough. His eyes fluttered, flicking wildly back in forth in horror, until finally they stopped, gazing up into the rainy clouds.

He cut its eyes .

He cut its legs .

He cut its shoulders .

He cut its neck.

Again and again.

He cut .

Before he realized it, the monster was long dead. One could barely tell the form it used to take once he was done with it, no more than a lump of flesh and limbs, with rancid steam gushing from the cuts. He panted, his lungs felt like they were on fire. He thought after he brought down it would change something, perhaps he would feel some type of satisfaction after enacting his revenge, but that was not the case. The guilt and sorrow in his chest felt like it would never end, and now that he had gotten the rage out, he was left only with an empty hole in his chest. But he couldn’t cry. He stared blankly down as the monster's body dissipated in front of him. He fell to his knees. This was it. In an instant, their dream was destroyed. Was this the price they paid for wishing to live happily? He wanted to go look for their bodies, but was afraid of how he’d react if he had to look into their cloudy eyes again. Their bright eyes that usually shined so hopefully had been muted. He stared up at the grey sky.

I hate the rain.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

He sat there, staring down at his hands, until eventually, Erwin’s squad found him. He hadn't moved an inch. The rain had finally cleared up, and the sun was beginning to peek through the dark clouds. Erwin pulled himself off his horse, and scanned the scene before him.

“They’re all dead, sir.” Mike Zacharis reported. He was Erwin’s second in command, a tall, broad man, with inhumane instincts.

“So you were the only survivor, then.” Erwin said, shooting a glance at the corpses surrounding Levi. His eyes lingered on the untouched head that sat near Levi’s knee. “How pathetic,” he said, dully.

Levi stared at him in shock. He knew that the Captain was familiar with death, but how could he refer to his subordinates so coldly? To his friends. The rage he’d felt earlier came flooding back to his chest, but this time, it was directed towards the Captain. He shot up from his knees, whipping his sword from its sheath. He leapt over to Erwin, pushing the blade to his neck, but before he could make the cut, Erwin shot his hand out to stop the blade. The Captain's blood dripped slowly down the shaking blade, as Levi glowered at him.

“I’m going to kill you!” he hissed, “That’s why we came here!”

Erwin stared at him. Eyes unwavering, he slowly reached into his cloak, pulling out an envelope, and tossed it on the floor. Levi's eyes widened. The documents.

“The papers I have listing your client's crimes are fake,” he said, coolly. “The real ones have probably reached the Military Police by now.”

Levi's chest grew heavy as the reality of the situation washed over him. He knew all along. He'd been watching them scuttle around like bugs in oblivion for three weeks. It was all for nothing. Their smiling faces flashed through his mind.

"Believe in us, okay?"

“You knew...” he whispered. “You knew, and you still sent us marching out in your shitty death parade!” he shouted, voice shaking.

He shoved away Erwin’s hand from his blade, preparing to slice his throat, adrenaline pumping through every inch of his body. Just as he was about to finish him off, Mike ran up and restrained him, locking him under his large arms.

“Let go of me, you pig!” he roared back at him, but he couldn't escape the man’s grip. At first, he kicked and screamed, eyes deadlocked on the Captain, but eventually, he felt himself tire. Once Mike sensed this, he slowly released him, still eyeing him with caution. But he didn’t chase after Erwin. He slumped down to his knees. He didn’t have any fight left in him, what was there left to fight for? His dreams and his friends died that day. Could he fight for revenge? He’d quickly learned that that would get him nowhere. He stared at the ground. He had nothing to live for anymore. All there was to do now was to sit in the aftermath of his choices, of his actions, everything that had led to this outcome.

“Don’t do that.”

Levi slowly looked back at Erwin.

“...What?”

“Don’t do that. If you continue like this, you’ll be stuck at this point in time for the rest of your life. You still have a full life ahead of you. Don’t let one day weaken your determination. There are still many more to come."

He paused, and gave Levi a look he'd never seen on his expression before. Like he was looking at something beautiful that Levi couldn't see. For a split second, the world around Levi disappeared, and he wanted nothing more than to see whatever Erwin could. He needed it.

"Personally, I believe in a future where we will be free from the curse of the titans.”

Levi stared back at him. His determination to persevere was terrifying. How could he still say that, with the dozens of corpses surrounding him?

“In a couple of months, we will go on another expedition. I expect you to join us.”

Levi didn't say anything. He stared down at the ground. Unexpectedly, one more face flashed through his head.

"Please be safe tomorrow."

He felt hot tears brimming his eyes, but they didn't fall.

I'm sorry, Ms. Librarian.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Parallels | Chapter 4

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist! | Parallels Masterlist

Characters: OC! Violet Grace Dawson, Luke Patterson, Julie Molina, Carrie Wilson, Bobby Wilson, Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, Flynn nolastname, Willie nolastname, Nick Danforth-Evans, Dirty Candy 

Guideline: Sunset Universe is the universe in which Sunset Curve is famous and Violet is friends with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. Candy Universe is the universe in which Dirty Candy is more famous and Sunset Curve has broken up. 

Song(s) used: Clued Up - Little Mix 

Warnings: none

Words:  2,845

It was almost midnight when the two girls collapsed on the floor of the dance studio after having rehearsed every single Dirty Candy song at least twice. Violet had almost gotten everything down. 

“Will you tell me more about the other universe?” Carrie asked as she stared at the off-white ceiling overhead. 

Violet turned her head a little to look at her best friend before facing the ceiling too. “Where should I start?” 

“Are we friends?” Carrie questioned without missing a beat. 

“Yeah, we’re best friends with Julie and Flynn. We spend most days in Julie’s garage, making music. We wrote at least a dozen songs together, I believe.” Violet smiled at the memory of them writing their first song together just a few years ago. It was one of their proudest moments together. 

Carrie then sat up straight, the movement capturing Violet’s attention. “Will you show me one?” she asked, and Violet shot up into the seating position too. “Please?” 

Violet’s eyes darted across the room where she found a bunch of instruments stalled. With a smile, she got up and made a beeline for the acoustic guitar in the corner before returning and sitting down opposite of Carrie. 

After having tuned the guitar to her liking, Violet placed her fingers on the correct strings and started playing. An upbeat melody chimed through the room seconds before Violet’s voice followed. 

“Hey, yeah, no, oh, oh, yeah, mmm” Listen, I used to dress like everybody else I wanted to just blend in They told me no, keep my dreams on the low Told me I'd never win, yeah I love to be different Guard up to opinions then let 'em in Tear me down, wanna see me drown Like being happy is such a sin, uh-huh”

Violet looked up for a second to find Carrie watching her with the softest smile on her face, the way Carrie always looked at her. It made her feel at home. 

“And now I'm older, it's never over It don't stop affecting me, the world keeps testing me I'm getting on track with every knock back On a bad day, I just gotta stay, stay, stay, stay”

Violet’s voice grew stronger as she lapsed into the chorus with Carrie watching her intently. 

“I stay clued up and I'm ready To love the good and live the bad C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have 'Cause sometimes it's beauty, sometimes it's pain Sometimes it's sunshine and sometimes it's rain I'm c-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

“Woah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh, woah C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

She slowed it down again, her voice mellowing out during the second verse. 

“Invisible, I feel like I'm forgotten Do you even notice me? Yeah Work myself up, let the nerves take over How I feel isn't what you see I need control, don't know how to let it go I need to learn to let it be, yeah Gotta remember nothing lasts forever So I'm just happy being me, oh-oh”

“And when I'm older, it's never over It don't stop affecting me, the world keeps testing me I'm staying on track with every knock back On a bad day, I just gotta stay, stay, stay, stay”

“I stay clued up and I'm ready To love the good and live the bad C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have 'Cause sometimes it's beauty, sometimes it's pain Sometimes it's sunshine and sometimes it's rain I'm c-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

To Violet’s surprise, Carrie joined in during the post-chorus, which caused a wide, genuine smile to fall on Violet’s lips as the two voices blended together. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed and she was still in her own universe. 

“Woah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh, woah C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

“I will never run, never run from a lesson I will never hide, never hide from the present All the ups and the downs All the heres and the nows, oh Everything I face, no, it's never forgotten 'Cause every single day is a chance I can blossom All the ups and the downs Yeah, I'm living right now, hey”

“Mmm, I'm living right now, yeah Aah, one, two, three!”

A giggle escaped Carrie’s lips before she tried her hardest to sing along with Violet. It ended up with her just echoing some of the words, but it added a certain quality to the song that Violet really digged. 

“I'm c-c-clued up and I'm ready To love the good and live the bad C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have 'Cause sometimes it's beauty (beauty, no), sometimes it's pain (pain) Sometimes it's sunshine and sometimes it's rain (oh, sometimes it's rain) I'm c-c-clued up (up) and now I'm ready Just make the best of what you have”

“Woah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh, oh, oh I'm c-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have Beauty, but sometimes it's pain, mmh Sometimes it's sunshine, sometimes it's rain”

The last notes echoed through the space as the song came to an end, and made room for Carrie’s clapping and giggling. 

“That sounded great! Did you write this one?” she asked, intrigued to hear more about this universe of Violet’s. 

Violet smiled and placed the guitar next to her before answering. “Actually, you did…” 

Carrie’s eyes widened. “I did? Y-you mean your Carrie doesn’t sing about being popular and being the best at everything like I do?!” The girl was baffled at the idea that there were other subjects to write about than just popularity. 

“You should try it sometime,” Violet told her with a smile. “I’m sure you got something great in you. If Carrie from my universe can do it, then so can you.” 

“Sounds like a pretty good universe you lived in,” it sounded from the other side of the room and it didn’t sound like Carrie’s voice, whatsoever. Violet and Carrie turned their heads to find Bobby in the doorway. 

Violet smiled. “Actually, it was just okay. I don’t see you that often…” Bobby tilted his head a little before walking closer towards the girls. “What happened to Sunset Curve here? In my universe, they’re pretty big and touring the country at this very moment…” 

“We, uhm, we split up…” Bobby replied with a tinge of sadness in his voice. 

“What happened?” 

Bobby heaved in a deep breath before joining the girls on the floor. “Creative differences. I wanted to be famous, Luke was in it to prove to his parents he could make a career out of it, Alex just wanted to work out his frustrations and Reggie was just in it because his friends were…” 

“Oh, that sounds pretty terrible. Where are they now?” 

The boy shrugged. “Luke plays football, Reggie is focusing on his studies and Alex only has time for Willie.” 

“Who’s Willie?” Violet wanted to know, having never heard of the boy before. 

“Alex’s boyfriend,” Carrie replied, “And they’re the cutest couple on earth, I swear to God!” 

Violet’s eyes widened. “I knew Alex was gay. I swear the whole dating-a-different-girl-every-night was just a publicity stunt!” The Wilson siblings shot the girl a questioning look. “It’s a long story… But Alex is gay! Yay!” She excitedly clapped her hands, making the two teenagers in front of her chuckle. 

“So, any clue how we’re gonna get you back?” Carrie asked then. 

Violet smirked, “You already sick of me, Wilson?” Carrie’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. “I’m kidding. But no, I’ve got no clue whatsoever… There must be a reason why I’ve been brought here, right?” 

“I mean, you did tell me you wished someone would believe in me,” Bobby muttered, his voice laced with hurt and betrayal. 

Violet’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry about that, Bobby… I’m sure I didn’t mean it…” 

The three kids let the words settle in their brain before the three of them burst out into laughter. That sounded weird, even considering the situation. 

For the rest of the night, the three of them brainstorm together, trying to figure out what reason could be behind the switch. There had to be a reason for her to suddenly show up here. It had to mean something. 

Determinedly, Violet stormed through the hallway towards where she last saw Julie, Flynn and Carrie. They were still at Julie’s locker and, like they had many times before, immediately shut up. This time, Violet ignored it and instead came straight to the point. 

“What’s this?” she asked and showed the girls the picture she had made of the news article in the trophy case. “This isn’t right! Sunset Curve broke up a year ago!” 

Just as the words left her mouth, a girl Violet could recognize from miles away walked her way. She had a strut in her step and her long, black hair swooshed behind her with every swaying step she took. 

“Kayla!” Violet called out and when her friend turned around, her face screamed disgust. 

“What do you want?” she asked, her tone laced with annoyance. 

Violet’s eyes flicked from Kayla to Carrie and back. Kayla and Carrie weren’t friends here. And neither were Violet and Kayla. Dirty Candy wasn’t a thing in this universe. Though the logo on Kayla’s badge that was pinned to her jean jacket said differently. 

“Nothing – N-nevermind.” Violet turned back to the girls she was previously talking to. “Does Dirty Candy exist?” she asked in a hushed voice. 

“Yeah,” Carrie replied, the volume of her voice matching Violet’s. “It’s Kayla’s. She created the band with Dana, Cynthia and Sophia.” 

Violet blinked a few times, trying to process all the information. “Dana’s in the band?” she whispered, and neither of the girls were sure if she was talking to them or not. “Dana got kicked out of Dirty Candy… Our Dirty Candy.” She said that last part to Carrie. 

“Vi, we were never in Dirty Candy…” Carrie told her with furrowed eyebrows. 

Julie lifted her hand to Violet’s arm. “Are you certain about that universe thing?” 

“Yes!” Violet groaned. “This isn’t the world I’m used to living in. In my world, Carrie and I are in Dirty Candy and we haven’t spoken in over a year since your mother died.” She pointed at Carrie first, then gestured to the two other girls before her gaze landed on Julie. 

Julie’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Her mother really did know more, she was certain of it. There was something she was hiding and Julie had to find out what it was. But first, she wanted to know more about this universe Violet seemed to come from. 

She grabbed Violet’s hand and dragged her towards the empty music room at the back of the school where no one ever came. This used to be Sunset Curve’s rehearsal space during their free periods and  now, Julie used it to work on her music when the girls couldn’t help. 

“Tell us more about that universe of yours,” Julie demanded as she hopped onto a desk in the corner. Her eyes flicked to the other two girls, searching for their approval before adding, “We wanna know everything.” 

“So, in my universe, your mother passed away. She got ill, really ill and after she passed, you lost your love for music. You didn’t sing a note for a year and we kinda lost each other. Carrie and I started to spend more time together afterwards and eventually created Dirty Candy. We grew our band with Cynthia, Sophia and Kayla, and became more and more popular the more we performed at school and at Chubbie’s pizzeria.” 

Carrie’s eyes twinkled at the idea of forming a band with her best friends, though she couldn’t quite see how she could start a band without Flynn and Julie. There was no Carrie and Violet without Flynn and Julie, or any other way around. 

“You have a Chubbie’s too?” Flynn questioned, earning a glare from Carrie and Julie. 

“That’s your question?” Julie shot back, shaking her head. She then turned back to Violet. “Continue, please.” 

Violet chuckled a little. “Besides rehearsals for Dirty Candy, I mostly hang out at Carrie’s where Bobby mostly mopes around because he doesn’t have any friends since Sunset Curve split up.” 

“Why’d they split?” Carrie wanted to know. 

“I don’t know, some drama, I guess? I don’t really pay much attention to him, to be honest.” A soft laugh escaped Violet’s mouth at the thought of teasing Bobby to the fullest with all her stupid pranks and witty comebacks during rehearsals. 

“Why’d you switch places with our Violet?” Julie then queried. 

Violet shrugged. “If only I knew that… The blogpost I found doesn’t really give a theory about why people switch places with their parallel self. It just – happened, I guess?” 

Julie mulled the answer over in her head whilst her teeth dug into her bottom lip in thought. She knew she could ask her mother about all of this. She had to know something about it. There had to be more that she could tell them. 

“I think there’s someone who can help us,” she muttered and jumped back on her feet. Her three friends followed behind her until they reached the street and they were on their way to Julie’s house. Their last period was a free period, so it wouldn’t really matter that they left school early. It was something they did quite often to go and jam in Julie’s garage. 

“Mom?” Julie called out as the girls entered the house. “Mom! You home?” 

Rose entered the hallway from the living room with a wide smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes that Violet hadn’t seen in years. The girl’s eyes widened upon seeing the curly-headed woman. She was alive. Alive and well and right in front of her. 

“You– you’re alive… Miss Molina… You’re alive. You’re actually–” Violet let out a surprised chuckle whilst tears pooled in her eyes. “You’re actually alive…” she breathed. 

Rose’s eyes darted from Violet to her daughter and the other girls before landing back on Violet. A light behind her eyes flicked on, signalling at the resemblance of the situation she had found herself in years ago. 

“I know what’s going on here,” Rose mumbled before heading into the kitchen. The girls exchanged glances before following the Latina woman. Violet and Julie took a seat at the table, opposite where Rose had taken a seat, while Carrie leaned against the counter where Flynn hoisted herself onto. 

With the girls’ expectant eyes on her, Rose heaved in a deep breath. “You’ve switched universes, haven’t you?” was the first question she asked. “You fainted and woke up in a world where you know the people but they lead completely different lives?” 

Violet’s mouth dropped, her eyes flicking to the other girls before focusing back on Rose. “Y-yes, that’s… That’s exactly what happened.” 

Rose smiled faintly. “I got myself in the same situation…” she admitted. “I was eighteen at the time and I had told my boyfriend at the time that I wished I lived in a world where he wasn’t such a jerk. Next thing I knew, I fainted and woke up in a world where my boyfriend was gay and my friends led completely different lives from mine. I was in a band, Rose and The Petal Pushers, and we were pretty famous there. All my other friends either didn’t talk to me anymore or were in my band.” 

Carrie and Violet exchanged a quick glance. That sounded an awful lot like them. 

“How did you get back here?” Flynn questioned from her spot on the counter. 

Fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist, Rose continued. “There’s this unfinished business I had to complete in that world and the Rose I knew had to do the same in mine. My unfinished business was getting Rose and The Petal Pushers in a band while the other Rose had to help find my boyfriend’s way out of the closet…” she smiled at the memory that floated back to the surface. “Aside from marriage and having two beautiful children–” she tucked a strand of Julie’s hair behind her ear with a smile, “The switch was the biggest adventure of my entire life.” 

“Wow, mom,” breathed Julie. 

Violet nodded her head, “That’s a crazy story, miss Molina.” 

Rose scoffed and reached for Violet’s hand. “Please, you call me Rose in this universe.” 

A smile landed on Violet’s cheeks. “Thanks for the reassuring story, Rose.” 

“I hope it calms your nerves and worries about all of this.” 

“It definitely does.”  

Rose smiled before patting the girl’s hand. “So,” she said, “What’s your unfinished business?” 

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[wefoundloveunderthelight]

The Love Cruise - by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Read on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Or on FF

Tagging:   @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda

Chapter 5: A Kiss is Just a Kiss

Emma stood on her balcony with her eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the ocean, the faint cry of the birds flying overhead, the rush of the wind in her ears. She felt truly at peace for the first time in a long time. She wished Henry could have been there to experience this with her. She had done everything with Henry for almost 7 years now, perhaps she didn’t know who she was without him around.

“Why aren’t you in your suit.” Ruby appeared behind her with her towel in her hand. “I thought we were going to the pool to sunbathe.”

“I was actually thinking that I want to go to this art auction I saw on the patter for today.”

Ruby’s face scrunched in disgust. “Eww, an art auction sounds horribly boring and stuffy. I didn’t even think you liked art.”

“I just wanted to check it out. It’s not like we would ever have the chance to go to an art auction back home?”

“Well, you enjoy that. When you get bored, you know where to find me.” She crinkled her nose and turned to leave.

Emma laughed. “I’ll probably see you in thirty minutes.”

Emma strolled through the hallways to try and find the location of the auction. August was right when he said it was easy to get lost on the ship. She was never sure if she was on the right floor or even on the right end of the ship. If you took all the floors end to end, it would be bigger than the town she lived in.

She noticed a group of people that were dressed nicer than most of the passengers on the ship heading into one of the lounges at the end of the hallway she was in. She looked down at her sun dress and started to worry that she might be underdressed to rub elbows with people who attended art auctions.

She peered into the room, easels set up with paintings on them and perched on each of the walls. Tentatively she wandered into the room, trying to make herself blend in with the rest of the passengers who were lazily walking through the art, nodding their heads, and whispering to each other. She leaned over to read a few of the inscriptions, many of the paintings were ocean themed.

“We meet again.”

Emma yelped and grabbed her chest, turning to face the man behind her.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you. Emma, right?”

Emma nodded, “Yes.”

“Where’s your…” He looked around the room. “Boyfriend? If you were mine, I wouldn’t let you out of my sight.”

Emma swallowed, sickened by the look on his face the way he said the word mine. So possessive as if she were an object. “Walsh was it?” she deflected.

“I made enough of an impression that at least you remembered my name.” Emma smiled politely and continued walking down the rows of art, hoping he would take the hint and leave her to her thoughts. “Which piece do you plan to bid on?”

Emma walked toward her favorite painting on the back wall, it was a ship sailing into the sunset. She looked at the price tag on the painting, choking softly when she read the price. There was no way she could afford to bid on any of the paintings, and this one was at least 3 months’ salary.

“Ah good taste, that’s a beautiful painting. I actually met the artist when I was in Paris last summer.”

Emma nodded, trying to act like this was a normal conversation she would be having back home with her friends. “Which one are you interested in?”

“Ah, I’m here for the piece de resistance, the Homer.”

Emma had no idea what he was talking about, but he led her to a painting in a gold frame at the front of the room. She glanced at the price tag and paled. “Oh, um yeah it’s…why would anyone pay this much for a canvas with some paint on it?”

He chuckled beside her, “I collect art, to hang in the halls of my businesses. This one will hang in the western hall of my bank in Switzerland.”

“Wow, that’s…” Boring, elitist, not of any interest to her! “very exciting.”

“Looks like they are about to begin, I should take my seat.”

She watched him walk to the front of the room and she immediately looked for a spot near the back of to observe the process without getting in the middle of the action.

~*~

Killian stood in the shadows watching Emma as she quietly walked through the rows of paintings in the gallery room. As Captain he tried to show up to at least a few events a day that were happening aboard his ship. He did not expect to find her at this one but was pleasantly surprised when her golden hair appeared on the other side of one of the paintings he had been admiring earlier.

He observed her for a few minutes, intending to make his presence known when the man from the bar approached her. He melted into the background of the room, watching as she politely conversed with Walsh. He could tell she wasn’t interested in the man. Killian knew his type, always thinking they were the most important person in the room, looking down on those that didn’t have the means to present themselves in the same manner as they did. He hated men like Walsh. The man didn’t deserve someone the likes of Emma. He supposed it was because he was one of those people that Walsh would look down his nose at.

Killian wasn’t really interested in the art event. Many of the pieces they were auctioning off were going for thousands of dollars, if not more. A waste of hard-earned money if you asked him. The man led Emma toward the main piece at the front of the room and Killian figured that would be the one a man like Walsh was here for. It was worth millions, the perfect item to throw around his elitist status when trying to impress a woman.

His was drawn out of his thoughts as the gavel hit the podium, signaling the start of the auction. Emma wandered to the back of the room as the auction began, sitting alone in the last row. He pushed away from the wall and strolled toward her, quietly taking the seat next to her.

~*~

Emma was very confused by the auction process, wands going up and down in front of her as each piece was brought forward. The artwork she liked the most was brought to the front and she tried to listen to the fast-talking auctioneer to see how much it would sell for. A wand in the front row shot up to open the bidding at $5,000. Another wand appeared and thus it went back and forth until the wand in the front won the piece for $7,500. That was the price she paid for her yellow bug back home, a car that got her to and from work every day.

She felt someone sit next to her and she stiffened. There were so many other seats available, why did they need to interrupt her isolation?

“I didn’t take you as an art connoisseur, Swan? Are you thinking of purchasing something?”

Emma relaxed as she looked up and saw her favorite Captain (did she know any other Captains?) sitting next to her, looking extremely good looking in his uniform. “Sure, I figure if I rent out my house and move back in with my brother and don’t eat for the next few months, I can afford at least one piece.”

He chuckled softly beside her. “Perhaps your rich suitor could purchase it for you.”

She watched as he stared straight ahead, and she smiled to herself. “Jealous, Captain?”

He nodded, “Perhaps.”

Her heart was racing, she was being completely ridiculous and irresponsible right now. “This is boring.” She leaned closer to him and whispered.

“Perhaps a personal tour of my ship would be more enticing for you?”

Does it include your bedroom?  Emma mentally slapped herself for the thought. Snap out of it, Emma.

“A personal tour from the Captain, how could I say no.”

Their eyes met and she swore she saw a glint of something else hidden beneath those electric blue eyes, he stood quickly and slipped out the back door, Emma following closely behind.

She watched him intensely as he spoke reverently about every piece of the ship like it was something personal to him.

“You talk about the ship like it’s a person.”

“Aye, in a way she is. A Captain’s ship is always his mistress and she should be treated with respect.”

Emma tried to memorize the reverence on his face as he spoke, he had never heard anyone talk so eloquently about some boards and planks. She found herself wondering how he treated a woman with flesh and bones, needs, and desires.

Focus Emma.

They continued their tour, walking through the dining room she ate in twice a day toward a room with a table in the back that she had not noticed before.

“You have your own dining table?”

“It’s actually called the Captain’s table, not very original, but yes. It is used to invite VIP guests to join me at dinner a few times during the cruise, its customary and quite formal.”

“I bet you get all the best food.”

“I suppose a Captain does eat well.” He laughed, the timber of his voice playing in her ears as it was slowly becoming her favorite melody. She needed to stop staring at him like she was a 13-year-old girl with her first crush. But she quickly found that the alternative of gazing at him like he was a plate full of food and she hadn’t eaten in months was a more dangerous scenario.

They climbed the stairs which opened into a huge room, wall to floor windows, equipment littered at each station that was either blinking or moving in lines across the screen. It was overwhelming. “Wow, do you have to know how to use all of this equipment?”

“I don’t personally use it all, but I do have the capability and understanding of each station, yes.” He nodded to a portly man at the end of the bridge. “Afternoon, Officer. Emma, this is First Officer Smee, he is currently on watch.”

“Afternoon Ma’am.”

“Are you sailing the ship on your own right now?” Emma exclaimed looking around and not seeing many other people on the bridge.

Killian laughed, “Don’t share our secrets here, Emma, but most of the time the ship sails herself. I’m barely needed to sail her. It’s all in the computers now.”

“He’s being modest.” Smee interrupted. “The Captain does more than sail her, he’s in charge of everyone on board, keeps the ship running smoothly, and ensures we don’t crash her into each port.”

“Thank you, Smee. Happy to see I’ve at least impressed someone.” He turned toward Emma. “Shall I show you the controls?” Smee excused himself to allow them to wander the bridge in private.

“I have no idea how you know what all these buttons and knobs. I think this would give me anxiety being responsible for all of this.”

“Extensive training, love. They don’t let just anyone take on such precious cargo.” Her heart sped up as his eyes bore into hers. God he was gorgeous. She backed up into one of the control panels, her hand coming to rest on the counter.

“Careful love, if you push that button, you’ll take us off course.” She jumped, pulling her hand off the console and grabbing at her chest which elicited a gruff laugh from him, his eyes slipping down to her lips.

“Thank you again for the tour, I really appreciate you showing me around.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper as he continued to step closer to her.

“Aye, your gratitude is much appreciated.” His hands rested on either side of her, the heat from his body radiating against her hips. She stared at his mouth longer than she should before dragging her eyes upward to meet his. They were darker than she remembered them earlier, his pupils larger. They were locked in a moment where neither spoke and Emma wasn’t sure what she wanted to happen next, just that she didn’t want it to stop.

Before she had time to anxiously weigh her options he leaned in and captured her lips with his own. His lips were soft and warm, and she could barely contain the beating of her own heart or the way she could feel it pounding in her ears, tiny explosions of light projecting on the backs of her eyelids as she pressed forward against him. Her hands came up to rest on his chest, the crisp fabric of his uniform sliding against her palms.

Suddenly he pulled away from her, looking between them toward the floor and shaking his head. “Apologies, Miss Swan, that was inappropriate.” He stepped back and wandered toward the window, looking down at the deck below them.

She took a deep breath and approached him, admiring his profile, his jaw clenched, his eyes focused on the unaware passengers who were going about their day. “It must be a lot of pressure being responsible for so many people.”

“Aye.”

“Then we are very lucky that you’re our Captain.” She added, trying to lighten the mood which had suddenly become tense. She tried to quiet her own disappointment from his change of mood, wondering if he regretted what had just happened because of his status and the public display or because it was her.

~*~

Killian cursed himself for kissing Emma. He was the Captain of the ship and he just kissed a passenger on the bloody bridge while in uniform. He had no idea what had come over him to behave so reprehensively.

Besides that, Emma had already told him that she wasn’t here to meet a guy and then he went and kissed the woman. Of course, there was also the matter that he wasn’t interested in a relationship either, he hadn’t been with a woman since Milah had died. But suddenly standing on the bridge with Emma, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her and then he bloody well went and did it.

Idiot.

He glanced to his left to see the woman staring out at the ocean asking him about the pressure he was under in his position. God she was beautiful. He glanced away, hoping it would stop him from the irrational thought of pulling her into his arms and claiming her lips again. “I’m sure you have a vacation to get back to, I don’t want to monopolize all of your time.”

She looked up at him, their eyes meeting for mere moments but enough to cause the hairs on his arm to stand on end. He needed to get his shit together. Instead of agreeing, she brushed her hand against his sleeve, running her fingers along his stripes, something she seemed mesmerized by on their previous occasion. “I’m supposed to meet Ruby at the pool for some sunbathing.”

Images of her in a bikini laying in the sun came to mind and he coughed into his hand. “I would hate to keep you from such an important activity.”

She stepped toward him, a playful smile forming on her lips. “Deck 12, if you’re into watching…to ensure my safety.” Her tongue darted out across her bottom lip.

Was she hitting on him?

He watched her slip away down the stairs, his frozen incompetent brain never catching up with his mouth to allow for a single word in response to her.

~*~

Emma had no idea what had gotten into her. She came on this ship not wanting to hook up but damn it if she didn’t need more of Captain Killian Jones. She didn’t know exactly why he apologized for kissing her, but she was going to make sure he understood that she didn’t regret him doing it. It’s not like she was going to see him again after she got off the ship. Wasn’t she supposed to be here to have a little fun?

She knew he was interested in her or he wouldn’t have kissed her. She may not have been with a man for seven years, but she knew what desire was and what she witnessed in his eyes before he kissed her was pure need.

Emma found Ruby lying by the pool and she sat down in the chair beside her. “Where have you been? I almost gave up waiting for you.”

“Sorry, I got distracted.” She said with a smirk on her face.

Her friend pushed her sunglasses up on her head. “Distracted by who?”

“Why do you assume it’s a who? There’s a lot of things on this ship to get distracted by.”

“Because I know you. You’re flushed and you keep biting your lip. Was it Graham?”

“I’ve barely talked to him.” She shrugged.

“You don’t have to talk to him to get horny, Em.”

She put her sunglasses on and lay back. “I’m bored talking about this.”

“You’re really no fun.” She pouted.

~*~

Killian knew he should stay the hell away from deck 12, he was too worked up to watch her sunning her half naked body. He should go to his room, take a cold shower, and enjoy a nap. Instead, he found himself on deck 13, staring down into the pool below, scanning the passengers for the woman who was driving him mad.

A kiss is just a kiss, right?

When he caught sight of her, he shifted against the balcony, his body reacting immediately to seeing her laid out below him. He hadn’t even looked at another woman in three years, not since Milah. But he wanted this woman, he needed to have her, to devour her, to feel her underneath him. And now that he had tasted her, he craved more.

“See something you like?” Killian jumped, turning toward Robin’s voice.

“Must you sneak up on me?” He stood beside him, staring down below them.

“Nice view.” He smirked.

“I’m just checking in on the passengers to ensure all is well.”

“Ah, just doing your duty then?”

Killian figured the best way to answer him was to ignore the question completely. “How did it go with Regina after I left you at the bar? I’m guessing from your presence here that she didn’t injure you.”

He laughed, “Well after you ran out on us, she wasn’t too pleased to be left alone with me. But she didn’t leave either.”

“Such blazing progress.” He teased. “You’ll be married before we reach the next port, should I brush up on my officiating duties?”

~*~

“There you are.” Emma wrapped her arms around August’s waist and hugged him tightly. “I haven’t seen you all day, where have you been?”

“Oh, um, I’ve been giving the ankle a rest.”

“Visiting the med bay, again? Maybe requiring your own personal nurse?” She questioned, noticing the new bandages wrapped around his foot.

“Just how do you know Captain Jones?” He diverted with a grin.

“Well played, sir.” She turned toward their friends, “Shall we?”

They took their seats at the table, Emma noticing that they had another guest at the table tonight. Graham was sitting on the other side of Ruby, embroiled in deep conversation.

“Tell me, is it true that William once drank an entire bottle of whiskey before the end of his shift?” Belle asked her as she sat down

“I didn’t say the whole bottle.” Will interrupted Belle.

“Most likely true, he enjoys clearing me out of my good whiskey.” August laughed.

“Not all in one day, that would make me a thief.” Will’s affronted reply coming quickly.

“You are a thief.” Ruby teased.

“You stole my heart.” Belle cooed and Will stared at her. His face crumpled, conflict littering his features. She knew he liked the girl, but she was also sure that if he did have feelings toward her, he would confuse them with his pining for Ana.

She simply smiled at him at the table and waited until they returned to their rooms to approach him. Since Ruby was getting a nightcap with Graham, she used the opportunity to invite Will to escort her back to her room.

“Delivered safe and sound.” He announced as she opened her door.

“So, Belle’s nice.” She said casually.

“Oi, this was a setup, wasn’t it? You didn’t need me to walk you to your room at all.”

“Nope, I just wanted to check up on you. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

“She’s nice, I like chatting with her.”

“But…” Emma pulled him into her room.

“But I feel like I’m cheating on Ana.” He whined and Emma sat down on her bed and patted the spot beside her. He grumbled but took the seat, reaching over to take his hand.

“I’m going to say something to you, and I need you to listen to me, ok?” He shook his head. “And you can’t get mad at me because what I’m about to say is said in love.”

“Get it over with.” He exhaled, rolling his eyes.

“Ana was a bitch.” She held up her hand to stop him from interrupting. “She used you for whatever she could take and then she left. She’s gone and she’s not coming back. And I think you know that, and you use it, so you don’t have to put yourself back out there, so you don’t get hurt like that again.”

His shoulders sagged. “I can’t go through that again.” He whispered. “She damn near ruined me.”

“I know.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, remembering the night Ana left. He had called her after midnight, barely about to understand a word on the phone. By the time she arrived at his apartment he was a blubbering mess, crying on her shoulder, both of them drinking through the night until they fell asleep on the sofa. He had gone through phases of anger and depression, but never acceptance. “I was there, remember? There was a lot of whiskey involved.” He chuckled, a tear spilling from his eye. “But honey, you deserve to be happy, you’re a great guy.”

“Are you trying to have sex with me right now, because I’ve never considered it, but you could convince me.”

She smacked him on the back of the head. “Don’t ruin this moment, William.”

“Ow, ya bloody brat.”

“I love you; you’ve been my best friend through everything, and I want you to be happy. But to do that you have to put yourself out there.”

“Is this lecture for me or you?”

“Hey, we’re talking about you here.”

He laughed and then reached over and pulled her against his chest, falling back onto the bed together. “I love you too.” He nuzzled into her neck, “You could still convince me, this is a really good moment.” She pulled back and shoved him away from her. “I mean, this is a great start, maybe I’d enjoy it rough coming from you.”

“Will!”

“Ok, ok, I know, you can’t handle all of this.” He stood up from the bed and turned to leave. “What’s that?” He gestured to their desk in the corner of the room and the object sitting on it. Emma paled. Sitting on the desk was the painting she had been admiring during the auction. The one that sold for $7,500 earlier today. “Who’s Walsh?” he passed her the note attached to the paining.

A painting of great beauty deserves to be owned by an equally beautiful woman.

Yours, Walsh