#when he talks to everybody else his voice is clearly softer

[little-shiny-sharpies]

God I love and am also so filled with thoughts that everyone here, the people in charge of all these powerful mages said “Yeah this is very bad but Kalecgos is on his way! We just need to hold out until he arrives.” Like you are actively losing this fight. This isn’t even really a fight you guys were absolutely ambushed and your camp was getting frosted and fried to hell and back this was a one way ass whooping. And you guys know this. But it’s fine Kalecs on his way just hide behind some rocks and cover the important bits of you. I’m just so intrigued with the inherent trust everyone here displays, “Kalec will show up because if he doesn’t we WILL die. but he won’t let that happen so just hunker down and shoot back!”

And then Kalec does. In fact. Arrive. Wiping the absolute floor with these things and fucking kills them immediately no hesitation like he just flew out and said “Death. You want it? it’s yours my friend” and fired a magic meteor storm and wiped them out keeping all his tiny mortal mages safe. Exactly what everyone knew he would do. Then he outright asks for help no hesitation and flies away. Like maybe it’s not that deep and I’m just gripping a shovel really hard over this quest design but it’s my blog and I get to talk about the interest. These people all trust him with their lives, Kalec knows this, Kalec is fully prepared to kill without hesitation to keep these people safe. Things that make me wanna go keep leveling my mage to see Kirin Tor stuff. My god.

[saywhatjessie]

Blue Sus

Day ten of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 10: Christmas Party Fandom: The Raven Cycle - Pairing: Gen 3.5k[Ao3]

The stream opens with a beaming, blond, curly headed boy greeting his subscribers with a “Hi, everybody!”

The camera faces him at a three quarter angle so you can see just past him into his nearly austere looking bedroom, the walls and the bedset bland and stylish looking. The boy himself, though, wears a neon yellow hoodie and a hot pink headset that lights up with flashing lights. His gaming chair is also horrendously and clashingly tie-dye. Both the boy and the chair are wearing flashing reindeer antlers.

“Welcome to my twitch! I’m MattyLyve. That’s Lyve with a ‘Y’ by the way. It’s a joke based off my name, but Declan doesn’t think it’s a good idea to put my real name on the internet.

“Speaking of Declan!” MattyLyve’s grin seems to widen, if that’s possible. “He’s going to be joining me today! Declan and my other brother Ronan and all of Ronan’s friends. We’re doing a special Christmas stream of Among Us! Because somehow, none of them have played everyone’s favorite bean person game.”

The stream window shrinks smaller and positions itself at the bottom center, the title screen for Among Us taking up the full window. MattyLyve does little jazz hands and says “Tada!”

MattyLyve’s brows crease as he clicks around on his computer, bright flashing keyboard and mouse visible to the viewers on stream.

“I told them when we were starting, I just have to hope they can figure out how to use Discord…”

There’s the sound of a grunt and MattyLyve perks right up. “Ronan?!”

“Yeah, shut up, I’m here,” comes a gruff sounding voice. “Parrish is here, too.”

“Hi, Matthew.” Comes another, softer voice. 

MattyLyve, or Matthew, lights up at the sound of Parrish’s voice but quickly pouts. “Nooo, you guys can’t be in the same room! You could cheat!”

“It’s fine, Matthew.” Parrish says, sounding further away than Matthew’s sound. “We’re just both using Ronan’s laptop for voice. We’re sitting on opposite sides of the table. I can’t see what he’s doing on his laptop and he can’t see what I’m doing on his phone.”

Matthew was still frowning. “Promise?”

A groan and then Ronan’s voice. “Yeah, fuck, I fuckin promise, can we get this shit on the road?”

Matthew grins again. “Let me open a lobby! But then we still have to wait for the others.”

The viewers watch Matthew’s screen as he creates a new lobby and sets the number of imposters. He narrates his process as he goes.

“I’ve played a few public games just so I could figure out what’s going on but nobody else has so we’re just gonna start on Skeld since that’s pretty much the most basic map. Just one imposter to start out with. We could do two with seven players but I’m a little scared of what my brother’s friends will do if they team up to do murders.”

The lobby comes into view, a little graphic covering the lobby code from the stream, and Matthew’s character in yellow with a little halo over his head.

“That’s me,” Matthew says fondly, making his character dance back and forth. “Hi!”

The stream watches him type for a second and then click his mouse. “Okay! Sorry for muting, I needed to talk to my chat. But the code for the room’s in the discord so you can join me. And please don’t say the code out loud so we have people we don’t know!”

A snort. “What, Matty, you don’t wanna make friends?” Ronan’s voice said.

“Oh sure!” Matthew answered. “But I know you don’t play well with others. It’s better we don’t unleash you on other people.”

There was a grunt over comms, clearly from Ronan, but there was another soft laugh that was probably from the other man, Parrish.

“Why am I pink?” Ronan asks, instead of answering Matthew’s comment further.

And sure enough, a pink character has entered the stream’s lobby with the name ‘buttz’.

“Hi, Ronan!” Matthew says excitedly, his character running over to buttz and dancing in front of him. “Come over to this laptop and you can change your color and add a hat and stuff.”

Matthew’s yellow character lead Ronan’s pink character to the laptop and leaves him there, running back to the middle of the room as the audience watches Ronan’s color change.

Matthew, in his camera window, picks up his phone and starts tapping on it. “You sent Gansey the link to the discord, right?” he asks.

“Hm?” Ronan’s hums, distractedly. His character is now black and he’s making his way through the hats. “Yeah, he told me he’d send it to Sargent and Cheng.”

“You could have just sent it to them,” comes Parrish’s voice. “Or are you still pretending you don’t have Cheng’s phone number?”

“I don’t even have a phone,” Ronan says and Parrish laughs again.

There’s another character onscreen named ‘magician’, customizing themselves. Ronan’s character emerges black with the plague doctor mask and ‘magician’ comes out light green with the little leaf.

“Aw, Adam!” Matthew said once he’d looked up. “You’re like a little tree!”

“Well, you know,” Adam said, for the first time a bit of Virginia accent coming through. “Stick with what you know.”

There was a low rumbling laugh that must have come from Ronan. His little character runs up to Adam’s on the screen, the beak of Ronan’s plague doctor mask right in the green character’s face.

“Parrish, do you think it’d be hard to make out like this?”

“Ronan, you will not buy a plague doctor mask so we can find out.”

Matthew can be seen rolling his eyes, but he still smiles, indulgently. There’s a hum from the other line that anyone could read as challenging but then more voices join the chat.

“Good evening, all!” Says a very polished, old money Virginia accent. “Matthew, thank you so much for inviting us.”

Matthew grins again. “Hi, Gansey! Who’s all with you?”

“I have Blue here and Henry should be signing on from the other room.”

“Hi, Matthew!” comes a female voice.

“Hi, Blue! The code for the room is in the text chat, please don’t say it out loud. We’re already streaming.”

“Oh, hello Matthew’s stream!” says the moneyed Virginia voice.

“The others here yet?” The girl’s voice asks. “Has Ronan been behaving himself?”

“Fuck you very much, Sargent.” Ronan’s voice says, and Parrish sighs. “He made his name buttz. With a ‘Z’”

“Typical,” she says, and Parrish laughs.

Two more characters appear in the lobby, one labelled ‘Raven King’ and the other simply ‘Blue’.

“Oh, Adam, you’re like a little plant!” Blue says. “You and Ronan standing next to each other is very funny.”

“Ronan seems to think so,” Parrish – Adam – says, dryly, as Ronan’s character moves back and forth, shoving his beak into Adam’s character.

“How do we peruse our color options?” Gansey asks, pleasantly.

“Just run over to the little laptop and you can customize your characters. You should add a little hat too so that– HI DECLAN!”

There’s another sigh that sounds like Ronan’s but another character appears on screen. It’s named simply DL.

“Hi, Matthew. Didn’t we talk about real names on the internet?”

“Yeah, but it’s just first names! No one’s said our last name yet.”

Another sigh.

“Fine fine fine,” Matthew says, “Guys, if we could not say mine, Declan, and Ronan’s last name on stream? It’s to protect my virtue or whatever.”

There’s a snort but there’s no telling where it comes from. They all agree.

“Looks like you’re gonna have to call your boyfriend by his first name, Adam. I know how hard that is for you.”

“That’s absolutely hilarious coming from someone who’s boyfriend literally only goes by his last name,” Adam replies, followed closely by a bark of laughter from Ronan.

“Are we waiting on anyone else?” Declan asks, not bothering to change the dark green he’d entered with.

“Just Henry, I think.” Matthew answered. “And like I was saying: if you guys could pick hats that are different from each other? So my colorblind viewers can tell everyone apart easier.”

“Oh, Matthew, that’s very thoughtful.” Blue said as her character moved back to the computer. She’d had the leaf but she changed to a witch’s hat.

“No jokes about the hat, Ronan. I’ll smack the shit outta you.”

“Why are you purple, Sargent?” Ronan said instead of picking on the hat. “Your name is already a color.”

“I don’t have to be blue because my name is Blue, bastard. I’m not a dog you can call spot.”

 “I think you’re onto something with the hat, though, Jane.” Comes Gansey’s voice, interrupting whatever Ronan might have said next. HIs little character heads over to the laptop and he reappears with a crown. “Is this helpful, Matthew?”

“Perfect, Gansey!!!!”

“Typical”, Blue mutters followed by someone snickering.

“Also, can you call Blue by her name? You guys use a lot of nicknames, I don’t want my viewers getting confused. Or you could just call everyone by their colors.”

“Not sure how that’ll work,” Adam pipes in. “If we use colors, when we say ‘blue’ we can mean either Blue herself or Gansey.”

“I think I’m more of a cyan,” Gansey says, fairly.

“Or fuckin aquamarine,” Ronan says.

“We should use our names,” Blue says. “I think your audience will be okay with that, right?”

“Hang on, let me ask my chat.” Matthew looks right at the camera with a smile. “Tell me chat, can you keep up? We’re mostly all here so tell me now.”

There’s a pause as he reads the chat, comments flying up the side with a general all clear but there is one comment that keeps coming up.

Matthew’s brow creases before he laughs, turning back to his screen and clicking. “They’re fine with it, but they think that Ronan and Declan’s voices sound really similar so I’ll probably have to bring up the Discord voice bubbles on my screen so the stream can tell who’s talking.”

“I don’t sound like Dicklan,” Ronan grumbles.

“Yeah you do,” says Blue and Matthew grins. The stream watches as he shrinks tha game window, just a little, so he can add the discord voice bubbles to the left side of the screen. A seventh bubble pops up. 

“Sorry, I’m late!” says the new voice. “I had to make sure I was ready to make a grand entrance.”

And with that said, a new pink character enters the lobby with a smaller crewmate on his head and another smaller crewmate following him around.

“Jesus Christ, there’s three of him,” Ronan groans.

“Not so, my surly friend. Original Cheng is the big one, on my head we have Cheng 2, standing in for my excellent hair, and following me we have Mrs. Woo, making sure I stay out of trouble.”

“Where did you even get a tiny character?” Blue asks, her character running back to the computer.

“Unfortunately, Wendybird, it’s an expansion you must pay for. I would happily sponsor your gameplay if you so desire one.”

Blue sighed. “No, Henry, it’s fine. And we’re using real names for this so we don’t confuse Matthew’s stream.”

“Indeed?” Henry said, delighted. “Well I’m happy to, Blue! And what of Ly–”

Gansey interrupts. “And we’re keeping Ronan’s last name off too to preserve Matthew’s privacy, Henry. If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, Ganseyman! Glad to be caught up. So I see you’re in a crown, we have Blue in her lovely hat, I assume Mr. Adam is that lovely plant looking fellow and of course Ronan is the terrifying bird man. Who else do we have here? Is there a secret homosexual?”

Someone chokes and someone else laughs. Adam asks, highly amused. “That’s Declan, Henry. Why do you ask?” 

“Oh! I understand now. I saw DL and assumed it meant ‘down low’. I have definitely heard it said if someone was secretly gay they were ‘On the DL.’ I guessed it was Ronan’s attempt at a joke.”

“I’m the least secret gay you know, Cheng!” Ronan says, sounding extremely jolly.

“Matthew, how do I change my name?” Declan asks.

“No time!” Matthew says, gleefully “We’re all here so we need to play now or we’ll lose the room.”

As he says that the screen starts counting down from five before they’re all launched into play.

“Okay! So normally, we’d all mute while we’re actually playing but we’re gonna do a practice round first so everyone can get an idea of what we’re doing. One of us is the imposter. If that’s you, DON’T TELL US! Everyone else, look for your tasks. Everyone with me?”

“What does Sabotage mean?”

“Okay, so Gansey’s the imposter,” Matthew says with a sigh. “Sabotages distract the crewmates so they can’t finish their own tasks and it also makes it easier for the imposter to kill. Like if you sabotage lights no one can see except for you so it’s easier to kill people.”

There’s a beat of silence and then the lights go off.

“Why is there a flashing arrow?” Blue asks.

“That’s to show you where to go to fix the problem. This happens with every sabotage.”

“Ganseyman! So cruel! What of my children?”

“Sorry, Henry! I just pressed the button! It’s the game!”

“Okay so Henry’s dead! When someone finds his body, a report button will come up that calls an emergency meeting. Another way to call a meeting is to hit the button on that table where we started but it’s better to find the body so you can tell everyone where it is to help us figure out who it might be.”

“It’s Gansey,” Ronan says.

“I know, but in a normal round we wouldn’t know that.”

The body is reported and everyone is brought to the discussion.

“Okay, so if this were a normal game, this is where we’d all unmute. The chat window up in the right corner is how you play if you don’t have discord or you’re playing with strangers or whatever but we can just talk normal. Let’s pretend we don’t know it’s Gansey. Adam, where’s the body?”

“Um, I don’t know? It was dark. I just saw the button.”

“That’s okay! Where are you?”

“Uhhhhhh–”

“Top of the map? Bottom? Right? Left? Middle? What does it look like?”

“It’s around the middle. There’s a bunch of beds?”

“Great! That’s Medbay.”

“He killed me while I was doing a scan!”

“Henry, corpses don’t talk,” Matthew says, kindly. “In a normal game you’d have to stay muted for this part.”

“Wait, so there’s a way to shut Cheng up?” Ronan asks. “Awesome.”

“Brute,” Henry sniffs.

“Bitch,” Ronan says back.

“It was just inside the doorway to Medbay,” Adam says, sounding unmoved.

“Great! Okay, so where was everyone else?”

“Am I supposed to lie?” Gansey asks.

“A little. But you can also tell the truth. There’s a vent system that only imposters can use. The vent in Medbay goes to security and electrical. So if you kill Henry in Medbay, you can vent to electrical and just say you were in electrical. Or, move as far away from the body as you can and hope someone doesn’t find it until you’re on the other side of the map. Or lie. Like, you can wait until everyone else says where they were and then tell them you were somewhere no one was and also far away from the body. Like, if I was gonna lie, I’d tell someone I was in Shields because that’s all the way across the map.

“Matthew, that’s a lot of information.”

“I know! Sorry. Okay, let’s just say where we all were.”

“I was following the flashing arrow to try and fix the lights,” Blue says.

“I was with Parrish,” Ronan says.

“I was trying to swipe my card,” Declan says, clearly frustrated. 

Matthew laughed. “Yeah, that one’s a pain. That’s in Admin, everybody! Okay I was in weapons shooting asteroids. That’ll make more sense to everyone else later. And Gansey, where were you?”

There’s a hum. “I was in reactor?”

“Good! Okay, so it would be really easy to tell it’s you because reactor is really close to medbay and it’s right across from security so you could run there from Medbay or vent to security and get in there so even if we didn’t know it was you I would probably think it’s you.”

“What about Blue?” Gansey says, sounding vaguely hurt. “Couldn’t she have vented to electrical?”

“She could have. And that’s the fun part! If we didn’t know it was you, we’d probably try and pick between you and Blue and it’d be your jobs to convince us why it wasn’t you.”

“But it was Gansey,” Blue says.

“Yup! So everyone should vote for Gansey so we can win this practice game and play a real one.”

Everyone votes and all the little characters pop up under Gansey’s name, including his own, except for black which voted for DL.

“Ronan, why did you vote for me?” Declan asks.”

“Because you just suck, generally.”

Declan sighs and Matthew grins as the little Victory title card pops up.

“Yay! First round done. Is everyone ready for a real game?”

There are general noises of assent, including an over the top whoop from Henry and they launch into another game.

They play a couple games on Skeld and it becomes rapidly clear to Matthew’s audience that these people know each other extremely well. 

“I was just doing gas cans–”

“It’s Sargent. There’s no way she would do a task involving fossil fuels, even if it’s fake.”

–

“I believe I saw Adam over my shields.”

“It’s Gansey, he would never rat out Adam.”

–

“Henry is being too quiet, he’s definitely the imposter.”

–

“I–”

“Declan’s lying.

The imposter never gets more than one or two kills in and the games are extremely fast.

“Okay,” Matthew says, eventually. “I’m calling it for Skeld. I’m closing the lobby and opening a new one on Polus.”

“So we have to learn a whole new map?”

“Yeah, but this one has little snowmen! Which is super on theme for Christmas. Also it’s bigger so you guys might not catch each other so quick.”

There are a couple of accepting mumbles and Matthew grins as he opens the new lobby.

Henry makes a noise of outrage. “This game won’t let me change my name to ‘I’m gay’. Homophobia.”

“Oh, can I change my name, finally?” Declan lets out a sigh of relief. “Good.”

“God forbid anyone think you’re gay for an hour,” Ronan snarks.

“It was just an unfortunate name choice, Ronan. Matthew’s viewers already confuse the two of us – I can’t be gay too.”

“Code’s in the chat!” Matthew chirps, smiling brightly. “Everyone hop in.”

The stream screen flashes again to once again show Matthew alone in a lobby as the other characters begin to reappear. The pink character, Henry, has changed his name to ‘Bee bihtch.’

“I find this game’s sense of censorship antiquated and personally distressing.” Henry said. “I can be a bitch if I’d like to be.”

Ronan’s black plague doctor comes back in, his name as ‘I’m g4y.’

“Hey!” Henry complains.

“Get wrecked, nerd,” Ronan says, proudly, making his character run circles around Henry’s.

Declan’s boring green character comes back as ‘Pozzy’ making Adam and Blue coo at him.

“Alright, alright,” Declan says with dignity. “Matthew? If you please?”

Matthew clocks play and the little countdown starts.

“Do we want to do another practice round on the new map?”

“Nah, fuck it, let’s go.”

[lollytea]

I don't know if anyone has said this before, or who came up with the idea but Hunter would absolutely be the kind of person to doodle himself and willow as wolves and in love whilst kicking his feet and giggling (as soon as someone else walks in though he would be throwing the entire book out the window)

It's so funny because Hunter has a tendency to talk to himself. He's very loud. But I think he'd be drawing his little wolfsonas and getting so giddy and overwhelmed by the thought of it that he is rendered incapable of even articulating what he's feeling but he still has to make some noise.

He's so embarrassed that he's doing this and also he's so PUMPED by how much fun he's having and he's jittery with how smitten he is with his little self indulgent wolf au and he's getting a thrill from it because there's nobody around to stop him and nobody will ever know. He is cringe but he is free. So he's overstimulated, he's kicking, he's giggling, he's squealing a little, he's trying to make words but all that's coming out like "WHAT IF-!!" *scribbles a green streak in wolf!Willow's fur* "SO COOL!! IT'S--JUST GOTTA--AAA!!! TEETH!!!" *makes wolf!Hunter's teeth sharper* "YES!! YESSS!!!!!"

Like he's trying to be low-key about it cuz this is supposed to be a secret but the whole fucking house can hear him. They're politely ignoring the racket he's causing.

He's like a little mad scientist bringing his creation to life. Except his creation happens to be his drawings of him and the girl he likes as wolves nuzzling together.

That's the kicker here that's making him go fucking bonkers. Hunter draws wolves all the time and he shoves them in the face of everybody who will look but drawing himself and Willow being affectionate wolves is a HUGELY personal thing. Hunter's equivalent of pouring his heart out in a love letter or whatever.

And God if Willow happened to catch him in the act and he's got nowhere to throw it, he might be inclined to eat the fucking sketchbook. He was SO in the zone and SO gushy that Willow sneaking up on him spooked out a full blown scream of terror. His whole face is set fucking ablaze. All he can really do with the sketchbook is drop it, fucking lunge after it and clumsily scrabble to make a grab for it before it hits the floor and clutch the stupid thing close against his chest like it's his first born, still heaving as he recovers from his fright.

Willow hadn't meant to scare him, she just wanted to see what he was doing. He was usually excited to show her his little drawings. He'd also blush really bad when she complimented them, which was super cute, so Willow usually sought out stuff to praise him for. Wasn't hard. He WAS the coolest dude ever.

Willow can absolutely tell he's embarrassed and she assumes it's because he doesn't think his latest drawing is very good. He often points out when he messes up proportions or other errors, so it's not unlike him to be shy about showing others art he's not proud of.

"Can I see your drawing?" She asks with a soft smile. She has no intention of pushing it if he says no, but she's always curious to see the stuff he makes.

But a detail Willow hasn't entirely grasped yet (she gets the basics) is that the softer her voice gets, the harder it is for Hunter to tell her no. He can clearly tell she's not pressuring him into anything. He can tell she's giving him plenty of an option to keep this to himself. She's always just SO nice to him and ugghhhh!!!!

Completely mute, eyed locked on the floor, ears scalding, Hunter ends up handing her the sketchbook.

And Willow goes completely fucking batshit insane.

"Is this us??" She demands, pumped as hell. "Is this us as beasts??? That's so fucking cool!!! Look at sharp your teeth are, look how awesome my hair looks!!!" She catches him by the face and squeezes his cheeks "You are SO talented!!!"

Willow praises him RELENTLESSLY and Hunter's just there like

He really does gobble her attention up. He really does. Gets him all floaty and smiley for hours afterwards. Nerd.

Anyway Willow is obviously aware he has a bit of a thing for her but she doesn't know a lot about wolves. So the specifics of their little affectionate touches in the doodles completely fly over her head.

"Are our wolf selves friends?" She asks "Is that why we're hugging like that?"

Hunter's ears light up like poppies and, knowing full well that he added those gestures of affection with the idea in mind that their wolfsonas were mated for life, decides to choke out "Um. Yeah. We're friends."

Its not technically a lie. They're just very good friends.

Anyway Hunter nearly fucking faints later that day when Willow tucks her head in the crook of his neck, nuzzles into it then smiles up at him and says "It's just like we're wolves :D 💕"

[miss-smutty]

Ma’am I heard your requests are open.. could I request a fluffy smutty imagine with Thor Odinson. I don’t actually have a storyline in mind so I leave that to you, but my point is,

Sex on the balcony!!

Immortal

A/N- Thank you @mostly-marvel-musings for the request! I hope you like it. I had a fic in mind when I saw the gif of Chris on the balcony so this was a perfect opportunity. It's alot different to anything I've done for a completely new AU

Summary- There's something different about the man across the room, something Aria can't quite put her finger on but she's more than willing to explore deeper.

Word count- 1420

Pairing- Thor Odinson x OFC

Warnings- Smut, Swearing, Unprotected sex (all the usual)

18+ only!

Taglist- @innerpaperexpertcloud

@pandaxnienke

@chickensarentcheap @longlostinanotherworld

Posted: 22nd May 2021

Aria couldn't peel her eyes away from The God of Thunder, the way he held the attention of everybody in the room , it was mesmerising. She was fascinated by him, how he barely seemed to notice the girls around him, throwing themselves on him. The way his face lit up when he spoke, how his whole aura shone brightly. Aria was rare in existence, a human who could see people's aura's just as clearly as the clothes they wore. A intuition so on point she knew everything about a person before they even spoke a word. This man's aura was unlike any she'd ever seen before, she knew he was  immortal as soon as she saw him. Still learning things about herself and the world she existed in, everyday she would be fascinated by something new.

Being new to town, Aria had arrived at the ball alone but had spent the night fighting away her own fair share of attention from eligible bachelor's. They were drew to her like moths to a flame, and were just as irritating. Not one of them had piqued her interest until she'd seen the mysteriously tall, broad, blonde statue of a man.

She stood by the back of the room by the buffet table, routinely replacing her flute of champagne everytime it emptied and watched the beautiful man intently. Studying him.

There was no doubt in her mind that the reason he turned around and caught her eye was because he felt her gaze upon him, only when their eyes met he looked just as intrigued as she did.

"Do you want to dance?" The eye contact with the mysterious God was broken when a small, slightly balding, weaselly man approached her, breaking her line of sight frustratingly. Aria tried to look around him, fighting the urge to shove him out of the way.

"In your dreams, mate." She replied to the highly confident middle aged man, paying no more attention to him and instead scanning the room once more, searching for the man she actually was interest in. Disappointment etched on her face when he seemed to have vanished from her sights.

She tried to mingle, to join in with the conversations but all she could hear was his bassy voice echoing around the busy room. She couldn't block it out, It was as if he had consumed her entire being but she still couldn't see him. It was distracting.

Aria needed to clear her mind, to block out the inner voices of the other guests and focus on that one voice. More than that, she needed air. It was stuffy, the atmosphere clingy. Too many aura's fighting for attention. She couldn't think straight. It was, Claustrophobic. 

Fighting her way through the groups of people, heading towards the side of the room and ducking behind the floor length curtains. She knew it was there, could sense it. A small, private balcony. No one else would know it was there unless they looked behind the curtain. Finally she could be alone for a minute to gather her thoughts.

Leaning out over the glass balcony, admiring the view of the valley below her. It was absolutely breath taking. Awe inspiring.

"Beautiful." She said out loud, into the night.

"My thoughts exactly." Came a deep voice from behind her. She turned around too quickly, not expecting anyone to follow her and tripped over her foot. Falling into the very arms of the man she'd been watching all night.

"I was talking about the view." She blushed. Looking up into his deep blue eyes, his otherworldly scent filling her nostrils. Fascinating her senses.

"I wasn't" He continued to stare into her eyes, his face emotionless making her blush deeper. "-What are you?" He asks, his eyes narrowing as the words left his mouth.

"Erm… A girl." Aria replied, realising she was still in his arms. Feeling his blood pumping through his veins and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. Whatever it was made her body tingle with electricity.

"No, you're a woman but not that, there's something more." He furrowed his brow as he studied her closer. The look on his face stirring something inside of her, something deep inside of her, a tingly presence she hasn't felt before. Reaching up to touch his face with her fingertips, she felt a pull, like a magnet. Thor's eyes widened when he felt it too, pulling her against his body tightly.

"You're different, I can feel it. I'm drawn to you unlike anyone I've ever met before." He whispered, his lips lingering close to hers, an unknown force pulling them together.

"I've never felt anything like this before either, what are you?" Both her hands came to rest on his broad chest as she spoke. The way his heart beat was different to anyone else, faster, a different rhythm all together.

"I am Thor, The God of Thunder, my love. Son of Odin." She could sense the pride in his voice. Aria didn't want to tell him she already knew he was a God, she didn't know how to answer the questions that would follow. Not when she still didn't understand how she knew herself.

"Now that is a title." She smiled, still looking up at him through her lashes innocently.

"You're beautiful." He muttered staring deeply into her soul and smoothing his thumb over her cheek tenderly. When her lips parted suggestively, he took the cue, leaning down to attach his lips to hers.

The kiss was deep and passionate, his lips even softer than she imagined. She loosened his black tie and left it hanging around his neck. The kisses becoming more ferocious with a deep and hungry need. A feral need that consumed the both of them simultaneously.

Pulling him back against the wall by his tie, his thick-set body crashing against her heavily. Pinning her between him and the wall. His cock pressing against her through those deliciously tight, fitted trousers. Reaching down to fumble with his zipper messily, lips still locked while a primal thirst.

Thor caught her hair in his hands, running his fingertips up her scalp, clasping her hair within both his fists. He pulled her head back gently, exposing her neck, a deep animalistic growl emitting from his throat before he buried his head into her neck. Gripping his teeth gently into her soft flesh until her knees became weak.

Fumbling to try and pull her dress up, the fabric clinging to her curves, he groaned ripping the fabric up the side and pulling it up to her stomach. Thor pulled her up into his arms, resting her back against the wall while he guided his cock to her opening. The feel of his smooth tip against her slit made her moan, a moan that came from deep within. The sound spurring him on as he pushed himself deep inside of her while she clung to his back.

Lifting her higher, her back scraping against the wall painfully. The pain and the pleasure making her walls tighten around his thick cock making him growl instinctively. He pounded into her relentlessly, her fingers gripping his hair tightly, pulling his head towards her with every thrust. Gutteral moans coming from them both as their release builds. It's quick but oh so intense. Something she's never been able to find before, especially with a stranger. Someone who can match up to her, who can take control and fuck her like this.

Aria can't quite put her finger on it but it feels different. Like it's meant to be, like fate had drawn them both here at this exact time. 

The way his eyelids hang heavy with lust, his breathe panting as he give her everything he's got, drives her over the edge. She screams out loud, her legs going rigid, every inch of her body alight with sensation. She'd never come like that before, it takes a while for her to recover. Her head resting against his shoulder as they both try and catch their breath. Aria's dress torn and Thor's hair dishevelled.

"Why do I feel like I've met you before?" He asks, moving a stray hair from her mouth tenderly.

"I have no answers but I feel the exact same way. That was the most intense thing I've ever felt." She replies.

"Why didn't you question me when I told you I was a God? These clothes I'm wearing to fit in don't exactly make me look like one." He moves over to the edge of the balcony, the way he looks standing there in the moonlight is breathtaking.

"I could sense it." She says without thinking, immediately wishing she could take the words back.

Thor thinks about it for a second. "What are you?" He asks again.

"I have to go. I'm sorry, I have to… I've said too much." Aria mumbles, straightening out her hair and dress before turning to flee.

He catches her hand before she turns, as she fights every urge in her body, all of her senses telling her to stay and she runs. Aria runs and she doesn't look back.

[so-writing]

Sugar, Honey, Ice and Tea- Matthew Tkachuk (20)

all parts here

“It’s about fucking time!” 

“Holy shit, he finally did it!” 

“Go, Chucky, get your girl!”

The shouts from the team when they saw the two of you together were as loud as ever and everyone seemed to be celebrating.

“We’re still just friends,” you reminded Matthew and removed his arms from your waist.

“I know,” he shouted after you as you quickly skated away from him.

“So shut your friends up!”

You’d just told yourself that it didn’t matter what the team and their families thought but seeing them, and hearing them cheer on whatever was happening with you and Matthew had you trying to put as much space between the two of you as possible. 

It was easy to think about the two of you when you were alone in a hotel room with one bed, or were in only ones in the hallway at work, or anywhere else where it was just you and him but letting everyone else in wasn’t something you were ready for. You weren’t sure you would ever be ready for it, because it would mean actually letting your guard down. Not just with Matthew, but with everyone around the both of you and thought of doing so wasn’t something you could see yourself doing anytime soon.

You could never picture a time in your life where it was acceptable for Matthew Tkachuk to wrap his arms around you or pull you into a kiss with his teammates and your bosses surrounding you and easily supporting it like it was nothing. 

 The room was starting to get hot and your skates were bothering you. Scanning the wood rink, you found Matthew at the other end fucking around with a few of the guys.  His team, his friends were here now. That meant you probably didn’t need to be, and you doubted he’d notice if you slipped out and took an Uber home. 

*

“Have you seen the girl I came in with, before everybody else got here?”

Matthew had gotten a little too caught up in spending some off time with the guys that he kind of abandoned her. He hoped she was off somewhere socializing with someone else and wouldn’t be be bothered. After checking the entire place and speaking to a bunch of people who claimed they hadn’t seen her in a while, he found himself talking to the girl behind the skate rental counter. 

“She left, turned in her skates like twenty-five minutes ago.”

“What? Did she happen to say why?”

“Nope, just gave back her skates, told me to have a good day and headed out.”

His head was spinning and his feelings were more than a little hurt. They were having fun before everyone else arrived, at least he thought so. What had changed?

“You good, man?”

“Yeah, thank you.”

Matthew replaced his skates with his shoes and set them underneath the table. He couldn’t just leave what was supposed to be a team event, but he needed to know what happened and stepped outside to make the phone call.

Her phone rang twice before she answered. 

“Hello?”

“Uh, hi. What the fuck?”

It came out angrier than intended but fine, maybe he was a little angry. 

“What?”

“You just bailed on me. Why?”

“I just assumed now that everyone was there you’d want to spend time with them. You rarely get to do fun stuff like this with them so I just figured..”

“I get to skate with them everyday. It’s literally my job. I wanted to spend time with you,” he paused for a second to recover, “as friends, obviously.”

At least the first part was true. 

“Oh.”

Oh? That was all she had to say?

“Well, I need to get back inside so I guess I’ll just see you when I see you.” 

“Ok,” he was too irritated and hurt to notice that her voice had gone just a little bit softer. 

*

Matthew ended the call without saying goodbye and you knew you fucked up. He hadn’t been paying much attention to you though, and he looked like he was having so much fun, and maybe you were a little scared that people would get the wrong idea if you hung around him the entire time. 

That’s what friends did though, right? Spent time together? You knew you couldn’t go back to the rollerskating rink and face him, but you knew you couldn’t leave things the way they were. 

His phone went to voicemail after the normal amount of ringing, which you figured would happen. He definitely wasn’t going to be waiting around for you to get in touch with him after ditching the hangout. 

“Look Matt,” you went casual hoping it would soften him a bit, “I’m really sorry I left. I honestly didn’t think you’d be mad but clearly I was wrong. If I’m being honest, this thing happening between us is the most confusing relationship, if you can even call it that, that I’ve ever had and I’m having a really hard time navigating it. Again, I’m sorry for ditching you. I guess I’ll see you at work. I hope you still have fun today.”

++

You were pretty deep into the second season of “The Circle” and a ten piece spicy nuggets from Wendy’s when your phone vibrated. It was a text from Matthew and you were scared to read it. 

So you decided not to, not yet anyway. Hopping off the couch, you headed into the kitchen and poured yourself a considerable glass of wine and downed it like it was a shot of tequila, and then you did it a second time. After that, you grabbed the barely touched bottle of tequila from your cabinet and poured yourself a shot, tossing it back with no chaser. 

It was too much at once but you got comfortably tipsy pretty quickly and decided that it was time to open his message. 

Get out of your fucking head and just hang out with me. We’re trying to be friends, not work out how to handle an arranged marriage. I’ll be home tonight, head up if you want

If he was offering, who were you not to take him up on it?

*

Someone was pounding entirely too aggressively on Matthew’s door and he had an idea of who it might be.

“Jesus, I have neighbors!” 

Matthew pulled her into his apartment and shut the door behind them. He noticed her slightly glazed eyes and the silly smile on her lips, “why are you only cool with me when you’re drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” she defended, “just nicely tipsy.”

“Come on,” he lead her into the kitchen and thrust a bottle of water into her hands, “drink this.”

“Fine,” she huffed but did it anyway and he couldn’t deny how cute he thought that was. 

She downed the water and seemed to be a little more stable but he wasn’t sure.

“You want to come watch TV with me?”

“Depends, what are you watching?” 

“The Circle.”

“Which season?!” 

She lit up at his response and fuck, that was fucking adorable too.

“Second season, you watch it?”

“Yes! I’m on the tenth episode!”

“I’m only on the second, do you mind watching stuff you’ve already seen?”

“Not at all, I love this show!”

She fell asleep with her head on his chest within twenty minutes and he didn’t dare try and move her so he continued watching the episodes in the same position and finally let himself fall asleep when Netflix asked if he was ‘still watching?’

*

You woke up on a couch you didn’t recognize with your head on a chest you weren’t familiar with. It wasn’t until you stretched your arms and your hand slid into a mess of curls that you realized where you were. 

“Fuck,” his voice was heavy with sleep, “you’re going to have to fuck me if you want to pull my hair like that.”

“Shit,” he was up quickly and practically shoving you off of him, “I didn’t mean that.”

“Jesus, Matthew,” you chuckled at the expression on his face and stood up from the couch to stretch, “this is the worst couch I’ve ever slept on. I thought you had money?” 

“Shut up.”

He ran a hand through his curls as he stood up and you couldn’t stop yourself from watching. Matthew was only dressed in a pair of basketball shorts that hung low on his hips. You counted his abs and wished you had been sober when you slept on them because then you could have truly appreciated them. 

“Eyes on mine,” a smug smile sat on his lips, “you’ve had plenty of looks, no more until you’re willing to return the favor.” 

Matthew Tkachuk was an irritating, annoying pest and an overall pain the fucking ass but he was lovely to look at and you’d always known it. If he could be a scandalous flirt, so could you.

“I could say the same to you. Your eyes have been below my neck since we got up and I think it has something to do with the tank top and shorts I’m wearing.”

He was standing in front of you now, his chest less than an inch from yours and the sexual tension radiating off the two of you was strong enough to cut diamond. 

“I’m looking respectfully,” he commented, “I respect the fact that you are beautiful and that I don’t just want to be your friend. I, respectfully, want so much more than that.” 

There it was fucking was. Matthew didn’t want to be your friend, and you didn’t want to be his either. 

“I’m going to, respectfully, tell you that I don’t want to be your friend either. Also, respectfully, I’d like you to ruin me, Matthew Tkachuk.”

[innocent-malfoy-slut]

Coward

Draco Malfoy x Gryffindor!reader

Word Count: 3,2k

Type: mid fluff and mid smut

Summary: you and Draco are in your fifth year and you are both appointed prefects of your own houses. One night you have to inspect the halls together and your rivalry soon shows up.

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Reader (y/n)

Warning(s): maybe some cursing

Author’s Note: I’ll probably write the second part, tell me what you think about it

You had been appointed prefect at the beginning of the year.

It was fresh in your mind the memory of that day of July when your letter from Hogwarts had been delivered to you and you discovered Principal Dumbledore had wanted you as prefect of your house. You cried and your parents, who had never attended Hogwarts, were just as happy as you were. On the train you sat together with the prefects of all the houses -well, the Slytherins were missing-, before meeting your friends in your usual carriage. You were having a great time; the year couldn’t have had started better.

Then you became aware that your fierce rival was prefect too.

Draco Malfoy walked with such an arrogance and disdain for all the students around him that you found it very difficult not to punch him in the face when you accidentally met him once got down from the train, “I didn’t know Mud-Bloods could become Prefects. This is so pathetic”, he scoffed at you while staring intensely at the pin on your black cloak, “My father will want me to leave the school after hearing this”.

“Maybe this is our lucky day”, you murmured -not so lowly- to your friends while the four of you turned your backs at Draco and his arse-kissers and started made your way to the carriages -which will have brought you up to the castle.

The night of your first shift patrolling the hallways of the seventh floor you found out that you were supposed to share your job with none other than Draco Malfoy himself.

That year it seemed like he had made his only purpose to insult you and his insults were becoming crueller as the days passed. You had never answered him, neither did you wanted to play his game and maybe risking of getting caught by one of your Professors arguing with Mr “My-Father-Will-Hear-About-This”.

Then one day he dared insulting your parents and at that moment you lost it.

You were walking down the hallways, almost running as you didn’t want to be late for Transfiguration with McGonagall. You saw the door of her classroom still open -sign that probably the lesson hadn’t started yet- so you hurried, but about six feet before the doorstep of the room three people blocked right in front of you.

You didn’t have to raise your gaze as you recognised the boy in the middle by his expensive, made-in-Italy, black shoes. You huffed and looked dead straight in his eyes, without caring of the other two at his sides.

“Look who’s here” Draco Malfoy smirked, giving you an amused look as he took out a jotter from the pocket of his cloak, “Dearest Y/N Y/L/N is late for her lesson. As a prefect I should you to the director of m-“

“Malfoy, have you forgotten I’m a prefect too?” you pinched your nose and took a deep breath, “This isn’t in your power so, if you move, I won’t be actually late for my Transfiguration lesson”.

Crabble and Goyle oohed and turned to look at him. Meanwhile the Slytherin Prince was staring at you at loss of words; in fact, that was the first time you ever spoke up to him. In the previous years you could barely hold his stares, let alone reply to his mean jokes. And you didn’t think you would have been able to do it, until it happened.

There you were, in front of Draco Malfoy -probably the person you hated the most-, raised chid, your back straight, and eyes fixed on his own.

“Tell me one thing”, he started with an inscrutable expression on his face, “do your parents recognise you when you go vising them at St. Mungo?” he stopped exchanging a smirk with his friends, who still hadn’t dropped their shocked faces, and then added: “Wait…do go visiting them, right?”

All of a sudden McGonagall’s lesson didn’t matter anymore, what you wanted to do was to remove that smirk from Draco’s face. It all happened within a couple of seconds; you quickly approached him, and your knuckles collided with his perfect nose.

You tried to avoid him the best you could or the following days, but on Saturday night the news of guarding the hallways with him got to your ear and you hated the idea of spending with him an entire hour.

However, that night, you got out of your dorm and crossed the silent Gryffindor common room, only to find yourself at eight o’clock before the Fat Lady painting. The lights were a bit softer than that afternoon, but it was still clearly visible in the hallways. Your turn would have begun in less than five minutes and you were supposed to meet up with Draco at the edge of the stairs.

When you reached the stairs, the platinum-headed boy was already there, back-resting against the cold marble.

“Weren’t you eager to see me tonight, Malfoy”, you pointed out succeeding in remaining serious. You didn’t glace towards him either; he didn’t reply to you immediately, but you were sure he would have made a joke about your looking later that night.

You kept walking before him, never turning to give him a look or to make sure he was still following your steps. In turn, you carefully inspected every room, assuring there was nobody inside them, and so nobody outside their dorms. Once you were done on the seventh floor, you both agreed on going downstairs and helping the two prefects from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

“We were supposed to inspect the dungeons, too. Can you inspect them?” the Hufflepuff boy kindly asked us, looking dead straight at your direction, without even acknowledging Malfoy’s presence next to you.

You nodded and without any further questions you left them and walked towards the stairs.

“Cowards”, it was nothing more than a whisper, but it came straight to you ears -since there wasn’t anyone else in the hallways. Draco saw you turning your head around and focused your attention on him, “What? That’s what they are”.

“They’re not better than you, Malfoy”, you said in a cynical tone, keeping your eyes on the end of the staircase. Once you took the last step, you suddenly came to a stop when you realised you didn’t know which way to go.

Draco watched as you turned your head towards him and with your eyes you asked him to take the lead, “Not much of a know-it-all are you now?” his typical smirk quickly found its way on his face, while he guided you towards the dungeons.

The situation seemed to be inverted by the time you were patrolling the hallways in the dungeons. You remained silent as you switched your head right and left, having a quick look here and there as you kept peace with Draco.

“You see, Slytherins do respect the rules, especially when we know with who we are dealing with”, the platinum-headed boy observed, not looking towards your direction as he spoke, “You, Gryffindor, instead, don’t know when to stop”, he said in a scornful tone.

“That’s why you’ve got sorted into Slytherin in the first place”, you whispered more to yourself than to anyone else, but, as it happened more than half an hour before, your partner heard you -since you were the only two in the hallways.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Draco halted his walking and turned his attention to you, still behind his back, “D’you think you’re better than me and why? Because you’re a fucking Gryffindor?” his tone had increasingly lowered in the last few minutes, up to the point that he was no longer whispering but he was full shouting at your direction.

Everybody at Hogwarts knew how moody Draco Malfoy could be sometimes. No news.

“You’re wrong Malfoy. I don’t think I’m better than you. I know I am better than you, even if I would have been sorted into Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff, maybe also Slytherin.”

“Oh, really?” he was now approaching you, step by step, his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips curled in an arrogant smirk, “So, you know you are better than me”, he forced you to take a few steps back as he wasn’t showing signs of giving up on the topic, “How can you state that? When you got to know me so well?”

“Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin Prince, who’s also daddy’s boy. ‘My father will hear about this!’ Isn’t this your phrase?”  you perfectly replied his voice, mocking him. You laughed slightly as he kept you pushing in the hallways.

You were turning your back at the door of the Potions class, so you couldn’t imagine where Draco was knowingly taking you. You hit your thigh against a cold and hard object, which you recognise being a chair only after acknowledging your surroundings.

In a swift motion, Draco had you locked inside the classroom, “Now, we have all the time to talk about me...and you”, he put his wand back in the pocket of his trousers and sat down with legs astride on the nearest chair he had found.

There were a few seconds of silence between the two of you –during which you took a sea right in front of him, your right leg crossed over your left.

“What do you want me to ask you, Malfoy?”

“I am sure there are a lot of fantastic things that can come out of that pretty mouth of yours.”

You parted your lips, left without words after what he had said, because certainly he wasn’t referring to words. You could never think of finding yourself in such a situation with Draco Malfoy –one of the people you despised the most within the walls of Hogwarts.

“Be careful, Y/L/N, if you keep your mouth open, I will close it. One way or another”, he rested his chin on his crossed arms over the seatback. His grey eyes were fixed on you and followed each movement of yours, never really letting his guard down.

“Oh yeah, and how would you do that?” you perfectly knew where your question would have led you, but at that moment there was something inside your brain telling you to ask him that damn question.

“I have several ideas, though I can’t put into practise the half of those”, Draco said running a hand through his hair, and, after that gesture –which you found extremely seductive-, some platinum locks fell onto his forehead. By the time he went back staring at you, his signature smirk was again on his face.

“Dear Draco”, for the first time since you’d even known him, you called him by his name and, although the boy wasn’t showing it, he was amazed by the way you pronounced it, “You aren’t brave enough to put them into practise”, you challenged him. You took advantage of him being confused and quickly got up from your chair, “Now, excuse me, but I think I will head back to my dor-” you were giving him your back while you talked, so you couldn’t foresee him getting up and reaching out for your wrist.

Draco had you pinned against the door of the classroom within only one motion. Your back sticked completely at the hard, wooden-made door, and your breathing froze almost immediately. Each time you breathed, you inhaled Draco’s expensive cologne and his green-apple scent, right in your nostrils.

“Insult me one more time…” Draco left the sentence unfinished and his piercing grey eyes moved from your own eyes to your lips, meanwhile you kept your eyes on his face, “…and I will no longer respond of my own actions”.

You tried to keep it together, but his expression and his voice tone made it impossible for you to remain serious, so you broke into laughs and closed your eyes in the meantime, “S-sorry”, you tried to say in-between the giggles, “B-but I can’t take you seriously”, and you chuckled. Again.

Draco lowered his gaze on his shoes and let himself go to a snigger, which shook his entire body, “You really like troubles, don’t you, Y/N?”

“And you think you are trouble, don’t you?” you mocked him holding his gaze, as you ignored -not so well- the shivers which went down your spine as he pronounced your name, “I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell this to you, but you’re far away from being an outlaw, Draco Malfoy”, you didn’t have to add anything else, because you made it clear earlier why you didn’t think he was the first of the ‘criminals’.

There was a moment of silence, during which Draco considered on freeing you from his pressing grasp, yet there was a part of him that had wanted you pinned against a wall, at his mercy, for so long and it make it harder for him to just let you go.

Your pink lips -still parted- seemed so tempting and your hot breath crushing against his neck decided for him, and against the part of him which suggested him to behave as a man and release you. He stepped closer, now no more inches separating the two of you, and laid his fee hand on your waist.

Your breath stuck in your throat as you watched him fill up the remaining space between the two of you. His lips crushed against yours and his strong scent flooded your nostrils almost at the same time his hands went grabbing your thighs. You could no longer feel the floor under your feet, and only then you realised Draco had picked you up and he was now walking towards the other end of the classroom.

His kiss was harsher than when you’d started, it was rough and wet, and you spotted a hint of hunger in it. It wasn’t like anything you had experienced before. Draco Malfoy wasn’t like anyone you had met before.

You moaned into the kiss when he took you bottom lip between his teeth and dunked them into your flesh, even if without make you feel actual pain. Your fingers quickly found their way to the hair at the back of his neck and pulled them a little. Your lips separated only for seconds, just enough time to look into each other’s eyes and you heard him saying: “Now, I’m not that much of a trouble, am I?”

You huffed in response and rolled your eyes, before going back staring at him, “I’ve never said I don’t like troubles, have I?” you tilted your head to the left and smirked, “You aren’t that smart, Malfoy”.

“Quite the contrary, actually”, Draco moved his hands lower on your legs with a gentle touch which had you shiver and rested them on both your knees, before wrapping them under his fingers and pushing them around his waist. Now you were completely adhering to him; your most inner parts close to his -the closest they had ever been. “I perfectly acknowledge the way I make you feel”, he placed his lips on the base of your neck, after having unbuttoned the highest part of your blouse, “The things you feel, and where you feel them”, he whispered to your ear, his hot breath again against your cheeks made you let out a moan. He put a little distance between the two of you and smirked, “Look at your body, craving for me to play with it, hoping for me to pay even the slightest attention to it”, Draco’s ring brushed against your skin and he enjoyed you squirming your eyes as the cold hit you, “You cannot hide it from me, darling. You want me as much as I do want you”.

You opened your eyes wide as the words left his mouth, your body became tense, and all you did was just stand there in silence looking straight in front of you.

You couldn’t deny the fact he had stated the truth: you wanted him. Since you came back at Hogwarts in September, you found it hard not to focus on his platinum head, rather than his grey, piercing eyes, or his

pinkish, juicy-looking lips as they curled up in a grin or folded in a smirk. Therefore, it was impossible for you to tear your eyes away from the young Malfoy. And he harassed you not only during the day, but mostly at night when you dreamt of him doing things -a lot of beautiful, yet sinful things- to you. Though him being Slytherin and you being Gryffindor, undeniably there was something very attractive of him that made your stomach writhe whenever his eyes laid on you or, like in that moment, his hands were on your body.

What you could have never imagined was Draco reciprocate your feelings.

Could those be considered feelings as well?

“W-what?” you mumbled while his lips kept working on that particular spot on your shoulders, which happened to be your soft spot. You grabbed him by his arms and put a sizeable distance between you and him, “Draco, what did you just said?”

The platinum-haired boy tilted his head to the side, mocking your action of no longer than minutes ago, and said: ”You heard it right, love”, he grinned at you biting you bottom lip when he used that nickname for you, “I want you so badly”, he came back whispering next to your ear, “And I know you want me as well. Do you think I’ve never noticed your eyes on me, or how your cheek would become red every time I give you a quick look?” he left a trail of kisses on your jawline up to the collar of your skirt. He stared at your red-and-gold tie and wrapped it around his fingers, “I can stop”, he seemed to let it go as soon as he had taken it between his hands, but then he continued: “Or I can go on. For hours. But…only if you want”, his hands went for grabbing the furthest end of the desk you were currently sitting on, and he violently bumped your legs with his pelvis.

You weren’t wearing any tights to keep you warm, so you could feel his growing boner rubbing against your inner tight, and you moaned at that gesture, throwing your head backwards.

“Did the cat got your tongue, honey?” he moved one of his hands to your face and rubbed his thumb over your lower lip, kissing it shortly after, “Tell me; what do you want?”

“You, Draco. I want you”, you said out of breath and whimpering under his touch, craving for him to give you more of it. Draco was right: you wanted him very badly.

“And how do you want me?” he knew better than anyone else which buttons to press in order to tear answers away from you.

You swallowed with difficulty and stared into his grey eyes: “I want all of you, Draco. Please, fuck me”.

Tag List (still open):

@iam-fucking-batgirl

[whimperwoods]

The Goblin and the Giant

Ok so I saw this post by @pleasancies and holy cow?? I love it?? So here, have the biggest whumpee and the tiniest caretaker (she said and then immediately whumped them the other way around a little bit, but like... just wait for it, it’s there):

Venk’s entire body was on edge, thrumming with adrenaline. This was the worst part of being a scout, or maybe the best. Whatever was crashing around out here in the woods was big, and for a while earlier, at least, it had been getting closer to camp. He needed to get to it, get information, and get back in time for everyone to get ready, or to run.

He darted between trees, staying in the shadows where the moonlight didn’t reach, light and silent on his feet, and with a firm grip on his spear that only mostly made him feel safer.

When he saw the thing, it took him a minute to work out what it was.

It was a foot, on the end of a leg, attached to a hip, and then to a body he could barely see, it was so high up. The foot, wrapped in an enormous roll of cloth, swung through the air and then landed on its tiptoes. It was a giant. And it was sneaking.

He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

For about a minute and a half, he scrambled alongside the giant’s slow, careful steps that crunched branches underfoot and nearly shook the ground, realizing as he did so that the giant was moving parallel to the camp, keeping a distance instead of coming closer.

Then, Venk got distracted, too absorbed in watching the enormous feet swinging overhead to spot the wasp’s nest in the ground until his own foot was in it.

He yelped at the first stings, too surprised to keep it in, and the giant seemed startled, too, the feet leaping backward away from the noise and coming down hard enough to shake the ground and make the wasps even angrier.

Venk pulled his foot out of the nest and scrambled instinctively up a large rock nearby to get away, cursing vociferously when the wasps flew up with him, continuing to sting.

An enormous hand reached down and grabbed Venk by the back of his ratty leather armor, lifting him up toward the giant’s face.

“Oh no,” the giant boomed, clearly trying to whisper to him.

Venk was still being stung, but that was suddenly much less important. He growled, baring his teeth, and brandished his spear in the direction of the face. “Put me down! Put me down, or I’ll put your eye out!”

“Oh! Ouch! There’s uhhh - there’s stingy things down there. Let me - uh - uh - over here.”

The giant held him at arm’s reach, took several long, hurried strides toward a nearby clearing, definitely shaking the ground this time, and set Venk back down on top of another large rock, about 400 feet from where they’d started.

Venk brandished his spear again and was surprised to see the giant shrinking away from him, one arm up in front of his face as if to protect himself from something.

Venk turned quickly to look behind himself, but saw no one. He looked back at the giant, raising his spear higher again. “Stay back!” he ordered, “What are you doing here?”

The giant had grey, stony skin, and was both thinner and narrower than most giants Venk had seen before - though, he supposed, he’d only ever seen the other ones at a distance, so perhaps he just didn’t know how to judge.

“Please don’t hurt me!” the giant said, “The master says I have to get into those ruins over there,” his huge hand pointed in the direction of Venk’s camp, and the ruins behind it they were supposed to explore in the morning. “He sent me to bring something back for him, but then I saw your camp, and I - I promise I was trying to go around!”

“What kind of something?” Venk asked, curious in spite of himself.

“It’s, um - it’s some kind of sphere, I think. It’s very magic. He said I’d know it because it was very magic and if I wanted to be sure not to disappoint him, I could just bring everything that seems magic. I - I don’t mean to - to - it’s -”

The giant’s voice started faltering, and his shoulders shrunk inward, his enormous arms coming up around his middle as he hugged himself, wilting visibly in front of Venk’s eyes.

The goblin glanced back over his shoulder one more time, verifying that it was really just the two of them, and then sighed, lowering his spear.

As frightened as the giant seemed to be of him, there was no way he could do any real damage. Not when he knew he was knee-high to the giant at best, with a spear the giant could have perhaps held as a pencil, but not as a spear.

“Can you come down here so I can talk to you?” he asked, putting the spear down and raising his empty hands. “I promise not to stab your eyes out. Just don’t grab me again.”

“Oh!” The giant’s eyes widened, and then it was falling to its knees next to his rock, so fast that the stone underneath Venk shook a little.

Even on his knees, the giant loomed over Venk and his two-foot rock, but he seemed to realize it pretty quickly and fell backward onto his butt with another shuddering crash. Then he pulled in on himself again, as if he were trying to be as small as possible, which didn’t actually do much to put him at Venk’s height, but did make Venk feel a confused tangle of emotions.

Now that he was closer to the giant’s head, he could see a huge, nasty-looking collar around his neck, black leather studded through with small metal lightning bolt shapes. Above and below the collar radiated several overlapping sets of electrical scars, like the giant had been struck by lightning a dozen times. He winced sympathetically.

“Alright,” Venk said, trying not to squander the giant’s apparent intimidation before he figured out he could probably crush Venk between his palms in a single motion. “It seems like maybe this is a time when we ought to just make a deal. That sound good?”

“I - I don’t think I can. I have to give the master what he wants.” The giant was - shaking? He pulled even farther in on himself, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Venk couldn’t see the collar anymore, but he could see scars crisscrossing the giant’s shins.

“Why?” Venk asked, “What kind of master have you got, that you’re that scared?”

The giant shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t, if he found out I told his name -” he looked half-panicked, his breathing getting quicker, “I can’t!”

Venk held his hands up in front of him, trying to calm the giant down. “Whoa! Hey, no. No names. You don’t tell me your master’s name, I won’t tell you my clan’s name, everybody’s happy. I’m guessing he’s some kind of mage or demon or devil or something, if he wants his name safe?”

The giant nodded, but didn’t indicate which one.

“What’s he want the orb for, anyway?”

The giant shrugged one huge shoulder.

“See, that’s gonna be kind of a problem. My clan’s got this whole thing with the orb. We’re camped there to go find it, ‘cause we’ve got this whole underground war going with a bunch of kobolds and it’s supposed to get us a dragon on our side or something, and even if I was going to let you go around past our camp, which I’m not sure the others would be thrilled about, I get the feeling our shaman’s gonna say we’ve gotta kill you before we let you take the orb.”

Venk adjusted his stance as he was talking, ready to leap backward off the rock and away from a blow if he needed to, but instead the giant wailed.

“Whoa, hey!” Venk said, patting at the air between them as if it would help, “Hey, calm down, you’ve gotta be quiet, there’s worse around here than wasps.”

The giant was weeping, and that was - huh. That was something else, too.

“I d-don’t wanna die!” he blubbered.

Venk took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he spoke again. “Hey, buddy, it’s alright. I didn’t say we would kill you, just that I figure that’s what the shaman would say. Maybe we take the orb, we do whatever magical mumbo-jumbo gets us a dragon long enough for it to tell those kobolds to fuck off and give us our caves back, and then we let you have it. I’m just saying we gotta be clever about it, is all.”

The giant shook his head fiercely. “No, my master will know. My master will know I wasted time. I shouldn’t even have gone around I - I don’t want to kill anyone, but I have to make it back, I -” he reached up around his neck, wrapping his hand over the collar, “I have to make it back with what he wants, I - I have to please him.”

Venk felt a stab of something through his heart and sighed again, sliding carefully off the rock and landing on his less swollen foot. He was an idiot, and he was about to die for it, but at least none of the rest of the clan was around to see it. They’d probably assume he’d done something heroic when they found the pulpy mess of his body out here. Probably.

He stepped up to the giant’s side and patted his huge ankle. “Hey, it’s alright. It’s alright, I don’t want you to kill anyone, either. You gotta calm down. We can figure this out.”

We can figure this out. As if he even knew what “this” was. The giant’s sobs grew a little softer, though. Venk patted his ankle again. “There, there.”

“I shouldn’t have talked to you,” the giant said miserably, starting to pull himself together, “Master always says it’s my own fault things are so awful and upsetting, ‘cause I don’t kill people fast enough. And now I’ll be sad even if I do kill you fast enough, which I don’t even want to do.”

Venk looked up at the huge figure. This close, he could tell that the scars along the giant’s shins were burn scars, like he’d been standing in fire. The lightning scars on his chest and face weren’t really visible at this angle, but there were a couple of small but deep bruises dotting his ribs, black against the stony grey of the rest of the his skin.

“Ok, buddy,” he said, making a decision even as he spoke. “Let’s take a step back. Let’s take a step back from the orb. What’s up with you and that master? He got anything on you, or is it just that collar up there?”

The giant shook his head and said nothing.

“I won’t tell. Not a soul. Just between you and me. I just need to know what I’m dealing with here. Gotta get all the options on the table, you know? And then once we’ve looked at the table, it’s all between you and me still, alright?”

“It - it’s mostly the collar,” the giant said, voice so faint it actually came across as a whisper this time.

“Well, then we’ll get it off you, and then you don’t have to kill anybody. How’s that sound?”

The giant shook his head again, vehemently, wrapping his hands around the collar again. “No! It’s locked. It’s locked, and it’s got traps! It’ll shock me and it’ll shock you, and then he’ll know, and then -” Venk could hear the giant starting to cry again, “And then he’ll know!”

Venk breathed deeply again, trying to center himself. “Ok. Ok. That’s - good to have on the table. You’re gonna be ok, buddy.” He patted the giant’s ankle again.

As the giant continued to sniffle and snort and try to get ahold of himself, Venk breathed deeply and tried to think. How serious was he? How dumb was this? He bit his lip and kept patting the giant’s ankle, weighing the dangers to himself, the giant, and the clan.

Finally, he stepped forward and leapt up to tug at the giant’s sleeve. “Hey, buddy. One more idea, ok? One more idea. We’re gonna take another step back. I’ve got this amulet,” he lifted it out from under the collar of his armor, “And it dispells one spell a day. Only the best of our scouts have ‘em, so you’re lucky it was me that found you, but they’re made to get us out of a tricky spot. If I turn the spell off and pick the lock myself, are you gonna get hurt? Or just me?”

“But what if he finds out?” the quiet hiss was still louder than a whisper, but Venk appreciated the attempt.

“Then you tell him I did it. You tell him a tree fell on you and I came across you before you could get out from under and I thought maybe if I took off that collar I could be your master, only then it zapped me and I died and you’re still a good boy following directions, or whatever.”

“What if it does kill you?”

“Then you tell my clan to get back underground before your master gets here, and you go on forward to the ruins like you were going to anyway. I’ll write a note for them.”

The giant shook his head. “I can’t escape.”

Venk looked around and, finding no body part particularly convenient for grabbing, leapt up to tug at the giant’s sleeve again. “Give me your hand.”

The hand that came to rest on the ground beside him was too big to hold, but he wrapped his hands seriously around the giant’s thumb, trying not to think too much about babies and their hands, just now. “I promise, I can do this. And if I can’t, you weren’t gonna get away before, either. But if I can, then you can get away when you couldn’t before. That’s worth a try, right?”

The giant bit his lip, but didn’t immediately say no.

“What’s your name, friend?” Venk asked, “Mine’s Venk. I can promise you by name, if you want.”

This time, the giant’s eyes widened. “F-Falgh, Sir.”

Sir. Huh. “Falgh, I promise, if you let me try to take that collar off, I’ll be as careful as I can and I’ll give you the best shot I know how to give. Ok?”

Falgh closed his eyes, but then nodded, once, quickly.

Venk took a deep breath and nodded back. “Alright. Let’s try it. Bend forward so I can stand on the top of your back and get at that latch.”

Clambering up a living being was an odd feeling, even one that was lying on its stomach, but Falgh helped, clearly trying to flatten his back as much as he could under Venk’s feet.

The amulet flashed with a soft light and a pleasant heat, and then Venk set to work with a set of thieves tools, wishing he had more practice on things that weren’t manacles.

Then the lock clicked audibly, and both their bodies tensed immediately, but nothing happened.

“There we go,” Venk whispered, “I think I’ve got it. Let me try to open it.” The mechanism that closed the collar was more clamp than buckle, clearly designed for medium-sized hands, which sent a little half-shiver through Venk’s spine to think about. Falgh wasn’t medium-sized, either.

He held his breath as he pried open the clasp, and then - the collar fell free.

He almost fell over as Falgh let out a great, heaving sigh of relief, tension draining from his muscles. “Whoa!”

The giant froze again. “Sorry.”

Venk bent down and patted the giant’s back, beside where he was standing, “It’s ok, bud. I get it.” He wasn’t sure he did, but it seemed like the thing to say.

Falgh nodded, seriously, which also jarred Venk a little bit, and he hurried to scramble back off the giant’s back.

As he settled back onto the ground by the giant’s face, Falgh looked at him with big, soft grey eyes, and whispered, “Are you my master now? Or was that just for pretend, if it didn’t work?”

One answer to that question was clearly more interesting than the other, but he knew he could never give it, even as it crossed his mind.

He placed a small hand on Falgh’s huge cheek. “It was just for pretend, Falgh. I don’t mind if you come with me, though. I’m sure you’d be a great help in the ruins. Or you can go somewhere and hide. I’d understand that, too.”

Falgh’s eyes were dark, serious as they gazed into his own. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind? I’m -” his eyes darted away, “I’m not convenient. Or sneaky. Or very good at things”

Venk raised an eyebrow. “Think you’d be good at carrying me back to camp? My one foot’s pretty bad. Dunno how much you feel wasp stings, but I feel ‘em kind of a lot, just now.”

Falgh’s eyes widened, darting back to Venk’s face. “Oh! Yeah, I can do that! If you want.” He bit his lip. “Will the - will the shaman still want to kill me?”

Venk smiled, patting Falgh’s cheek again. “Not if you’re with me, buddy. Not if you’re with me.”

[angelkurenai]

Qualified cuddler - Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Title: Qualified cuddler

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: oh my god could you write a tom hiddleston one where y/n is part of the crew cast while filming ragnarrok and they get on very well and everybody loves her, she’s got great style. she’s been sleeping bad a few days and ends up falling a sleep on tom’s lap “be my extra pillow please” and tom’s like “fuck i love this girl (slightly altered)

A/N: Love to get to write the requests, but until I’m done with the current ones I won’t be accepting any more new ones. Thank you!

“Another cup of coffee? I see you've found a whole new appreciation for the beverage, love. Is this the third one today? That's more times than we've talked to each other today.”

You would be lying majorly if you said that you didn't smile the second you heard the soft accented voice, more than you had smiled in the past eight hours. A smile that was only accompanied by a weight lifting off your shoulders. It seemed like whenever you looked at the man your day got ten times better and it definitely had nothing to do with your feelings for him. Not at all... or maybe a little bit. On the other hand your costar and great friend was probably one of the kindest and most considerate people you'd met, so it would be impossible for such a sweet person as Tom to not brighten your day just by giving you a smile.

However, these days had been a lot more than just hard on you, that really even Tom's bright smile and comforting gaze couldn't do enough to make it better. And even more, to give you the sleep you so desperately needed but couldn't find.

“Why, yes. I have never appreciated it as much as now. It seems almost like I've just fallen in love.” you closed your eyes for a small peaceful seconds when he kissed your temple, finding such comfort and relaxation that it surprised you very much pleasantly.

“Ah so you've replaced me? Oh the pain!” he placed a hand over his chest a little bit too dramatically that you couldn't help but chuckle. It came out a little more nervous than you'd like mostly because of how his words made your heart skip a beat or two. Despite your worn-out body and tired, sleep-deprived brain, the effect this man could have on you was unparalleled.

“So it seems. Unfortunately you've been dethroned. The first place in my heart belongs to coffee now.” you raised your cup, smiling before you took a large sip and folding the papers with script for the scene you were supposed to be filming in three hours, you placed them neatly away. It wasn't as if you had been able to read past the same first sentence anyway.

Still with a smile on your lips, much softer, you said “Careful though, if Mark or Scarlett hear us right now there will be nosaving this, I'm telling you.”

“Odin help us.” his eyes widened and he looked around frantically “I sure hope they're not anywhere near. There would be no hearing the end of it. For all I know, they will bring it up on some interview. They even have gotten matching T-shirts which I hope I don't see, either. Something about shipping us and-” but his words came to a halt when he noticed the frown that had set upon your own face. It was so subtle – or maybe present 24/7 the past couple days to the point people and stopped ignoring it or maybe, you believed, they didn't get to notice it in the first place. Being an actress and spending so much time filming not one but two of the biggest and most demanding movies in the past ten years in the MCU meant that not many had the chance to notice let alone consider the reasons why you were so exhausted these days. Not many... but certainly one.

“Feeling tired again, darling?” he asked softly, voice even more soothing and calm than before, as he pressed his palm to your cheek.

“Wha- Uh.” you shook your head, trying to give him a reassuring smile “No. I only zoned out for a second, sorry. I'm fine, I'm really fine. See, I've got my two loves right here with me. What else can a girl need?”

“While I am flattered or maybe a lot more than that, I'd much rather ignore my skipping heartbeat for the moment and... hear you say the truth this time.” you almost couldn't comprehend what he was asking from you because his own words managed to make your heart skip beats and you blessed this man for making you feel more alive than you had in the past three days “You look terrible, darling. Don't get me wrong, you're always ravishing but- Have you been getting any sleep lately? I feel scared sometimes that you're going to pass out a-and at first I thought you were only stressed – which got me just as worried – but then you stopped being as focused, you're constantly silent a-nd look like you might pass out any given moment. You look... exhausted. And it just... breaks my heart to see you like this.”

“You're far too good for me, you know that?” you looked at him through your lashes, biting your lower lip but he only shook his head.

He sighed softly “I'd rather say it's the other way round. But we're not talking about that, are we?”

“No, I think we're rather talking about how jealous you are of this coffee replacing you in my heart.” you said with a smile that felt too light and not just as tired as every other one these days.

“And as I previously said, I'm terribly hurt and I will definitely fight to gain my place back on the first spot by all means necessary.But you still are avoiding the topic, dear.” his smile fluttered a bit “So I am only going to ask you. Is everything alright? Are you alright? Is something troubling you o-or is there a problem you'd... like to talk about? You know I'm always here for you and if I could help in any way, I'd very much love to. I- I know it's possibly not my place to ask because I'm really no more than a colleague-”

“Tom” you couldn't help the gasp that left your lips, your eyes all-but-widening “Do you really believe that?”

It seemed like he did have his doubts, yes, and seeing you feel so shocked over his words managed to earn a smile from him as he nodded his head and corrected “I apologize. No. I do think after two years we're more than just that. And even if I don't really know my place-” he let out a small shaky breath “I still do want to know what's troubling you so much and if, in any way, I can help.”

“It's not anything too bad, Tom. Really, not something you should worry yourself with. I-” you scoffed a small laugh “I doubted anyone would notice to be honest. Nobody else had so far.”

“Well, I sure hope I'm not somebody else, for one. And for another-” he slowly took the cup of coffee from your hand “I do really care. Care for you. And care to know. That's why I pay attention.”

It wasn't as if you really had much strength in you to fight, given how tired you were all the time, but when it came to Tom things got even harder. One look at those blue eyes and you found that every part of your will slipped away. You secretly thought he knew it and used it to his advantage every time he could.

“It's not someth-” you shook your head, stopping yourself “I really shouldn't bother you with this. It's not that important. There's nothing to-”

“It is to me if it concerns you. And there clearly is something. Love-” he took your hand in yours, locking fingers with yours and brining it to his lips to kiss the back of it “Tell me.”

“You know-” you felt your throat close, tears welling up in your eyes from all the stress that had piled up the past couple days “You're making it really hard for me to say no to you lately. And that's not good. Not good at all.”

“Well, although I'm not really a fan of it, I think it best sums up things: Eye for an eye hm?”

Biting your lip, you looked down at your hands before letting a small sigh of defeat “I'm only incredibly nervous about my upcoming scenes. There. I said it. And it sounds as stupid out loud as it did in my head.”

“Oh darling.” you took notice of the smile forming on his lips, sympathetic and certainly very relieved but at the same time caring as always. You, however, couldn't stand to think that he'd laugh at you so you tore your eyes away from him and biting your lip you finally managed to mumble a soft sentence.

“Don't laugh at me. What with my character having a bigger part in the story and what with Kevin saying he wants me to lead the new phase- which, I never even asked for by the way, it's not really easy on my sanity and therefore sleep a-and now it's been- Gosh, I've lost count of the nights I haven't slept and it's all piling up because I- I can't sleep at night but I also have to stay awake at ay because of filming and therefore drink so much coffee that it's not healthy but I know I have to in order to-”

“Whow whow. No. No, no no. (Y/n)-” before you could even comprehend it, you felt a pair of hands cup your face only to force you to look into Tom's impossibly blue eyes “Love, I would never laugh for something like this. Especially something like this. It's just that- You never cease to amaze me, dear. Gosh, you are truly incredible, do you know that?”

“Tom... it's not nice to make fun of your friends, you know.” you mumbled, even more weakly than before as your eyes casted down for a few seconds.

“I'm not! I could never be, dear, you know me. It's just that-” he shook his head softly, letting only a moment of silence pass – a moment that really peaked your interest if you were entirely honest – before you felt a pair of lips press on your forehead and you couldn't fight the small sigh of content that escaped your own lips “You are so wonderful. The love you have for what you do, the passion and energy you put into it that, while I don't approve of you exhausting yourself, is something so beautiful to watch because in the end you create real art with your very own being. All of the acting, every scene, is also a part of you that you are about to give to the world and it amazes me.”

“Alright-” you were biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot but you were failing miserably both at that and at not blushing bright red at his words “That sounds a lot better than what I said.”

Your words earned a soft chuckle from him but they didn't manage to wipe out all of his worry. Taking a better look at him you noticed his eyebrows had pulled into a frown once more, although less obvious this time. “It's not really any better, though. You're going to fall down if you keep going like this.”

“I'm doing well so far, aren't I? There's no need to make such an issue out of this, Tommy.” despite how touching it was to see him care so deeply for you, you didn't want to burden him with your problems so instead you tried to put on a small smile and make it as believable as possible before adding “But if you want to make this fun, we can bet on how long it will take me to fall down. I'm sure I could last-”

“I'm not going to make fun of it because it is not something to be taken lightly. Not to me. As a matter of fact, I-” you would have gotten completely distracted – especially in your light-headed sleep-deprived state – by the way his fingers slipped so casually and easily between yours and lingered, just a few long seconds that had your heart leaping to your throat, but you were more than alert when you felt your cup of coffee slip from your grasp as he took it away. Your eyes widened and a small gasp left your lips at the same time. He completed with “Am gonna do much more.” but you didn't have a mind for that.

“No, Tom!” you reached for it but he he held the cup further away from you “Tommy, please.”

“Starting with this. You don't need any more coffee than you've already had. It's bad for your health, especially if we consider the fact that you haven't eaten more than half a sandwich all day. And yes, I've noticed. As I told you, I pay attention to the things that matter to me.” you would have melted at the caring tone in his voice and probably just kissed the living heaven out of him right then and there but he was still mercilessly holding your coffee away from you and it didn't make things easy for you.

“Tommy, give me my coffee back. Please, I need it!” you pleaded with him, trying to give him the most adorable puppy eyes you could master “I won't be able to go for the rest of the day without it.”

“I'm pretty sure that everyone would say that you will in fact make it if you don't have this coffee. And to make sure of it-” before you even had the chance to protest you watched the man drop the cup into the closest bin, earning a squeak of surprise barely even a yelp before you watched him turn back to you with a satisfied smile “There. No more coffee for today.”

“But Tom, I-” you let a small whine “I'm gonna fall down without that. I need the caffeine to keep me awake!”

“Oh no, the exact opposite. The caffeine is what's going to make you fall down. You're not looking out for your health and diet and with the lack of sleep I don't even want to think of what could come.” this time he used a more stern voice that made you look down like a kid being scolded “And I'm going to do anything I can to make sure that it doesn't. Starting now. You have some time before your next scene, am I right?” he asked and you gave him a hesitant nod “Good, then we're going to make most of it. Come here.”

“Wha-” you didn't really try hard to protest against him taking hold of your hand, but still frowned when he led you towards one of the small armchairs that was part of the set that you were going to have a scene in next. However, a gasp escaped your lips when he sat down and, still holding your hand, he dragged you with him and before you could understand it you were falling on his lap.

“Tom!” you squeaked out, eyes all wide and you prayed that at least your face wasn't bright red despite how hot it felt “What are you-”

“I said I'm looking out for you. At least more than I usually am. I've taken it upon myself to make you feel better, get over your problems and have a good night's sleep again. And we're getting started right now. Don't think this will be the end of it because I'm very stubborn as you may know, so be prepared for more time with yours truly. Like, a lot more. In and out of set. You won't get rid of me easily.” you couldn't say that sounded like the best thing in the world out loud, not when you were holding your own breath.

“While I'm not protesting to that... What does that have to do with, well, this?”

“Simple.” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your middle, letting you lean on his side “You have time, just about right enough for a quick nap and more often than not, having another source of heat like another body of someone you're comfortable with, helps a lot. So that's what you're going to do until it's time for filming. Or at least try to. Even if you get thirty minutes, it's worth it.”

“I don't doubt your magic, but Tommy, seriously? Anybody could walk in! How are you going to explain this to them? It's not really the most professional thing to-”

“Alright let me stop you right there because you're rambling without a single breath and that's not a way to relax. Deep breath first. Deep breath, (Y/n).” he gave you a stern look and you did as told, despite the small roll of your eyes “Good. And if anyone has any questions I'll be the one to answer, not you. Not that anybody will hold it against you, you know everyone loves you. Unless you have a problem them thinking something else of this perhaps...?” he raised a small eyebrow but you shook your head.

“No, no of course not Tommy... Unless it's Mark or Scarlett that runs into us we're safe.”

“Then let's hope they don't. I value your sleep more than anything else though, so I don't know if I'm going to engage in any conversations though. Much less try to avoid what they'll have coming.”

“Sleep, yeah.” you scoffed with a fond smile, resting your head on his shoulder “As if that's even a possibility, Tommy. We both know it, you're wasting your time here.”

“No I'm not. Even if you don't get to sleep we both know it's worth the effort and far from a waste of time to be with you. And stop calling me Tommy, it's distracting the way you say it and I don't plan on sidetracking. You are going to besleeping here, no matter what.” he kissed the top of your head and this time you let your smile show.

“While I don't mean to doubt you, and you're exceptional soft and comfy, it's nearly impossible for me to relax.” you whispered although you had slowly but surely started losing track of yours words. His thumb had started rubbing soothing circles on your back, making your heart rate slow down to such a degree that you couldn't believe how calm you were already feeling. It seemed that with the combination of his soothing voice, soft cologne and warm body you really had no way of escaping it.

“Dare you say I'm not qualified enough for cuddles?”

“Oh no, by all means.” you giggled and it took a couple seconds for your brain to register how sleepy that giggle was and that you had et a pause way longer than expected to follow, as if zoning out or as if – surprisingly so – fading in and out of sleep “You're the perfect pillow. Soon... they'll be looking around for you because... because I'll steal you away for... personal use. You'll... be my extra pillow... from now on. If... I ever manage... to fall asleep... again.”

You hadn't realized it that each pause lasted longer and that your eyes lingered closed even more with each blink. Your breathing was slowly becoming more even too.

“Then I'll gladly be your pillow... for the rest of your life.” he only whispered as he kissed the top of your head, no other thought in his head but how much he loved you.

One day he'd get to tell you too.

[shesawriter39049]

|AFTER HOURS| M|

Pairing: Namjoon X OC 

About-  Your husband and business partner finds you up way past acceptable work hours for the 3rd night in a row! So, daddy has to step in and remind you that’s not something we do in this household. You come before work, in every sense of the phrase!

OR- Namjoon and yourself run a successful Adult Film Entertainment Company called “Onyx” with your 5 best friends from college who you also happen to be in a open relationship with! Your in desperate need of a 2nd videographer/editor! So here you are, up at 1 AM scrolling through resumes because your that boss that hates to overwork her employess so she overworks herself!

Warnings:Daddy kink, Dom Namjoon, switch OC (More of a sassy/bratty sub)Top OC, Oral (F recieving) Light ass play, (Rimming), Dirty talk, Breath play, Spanking(Pain kink),Hair pulling, unprotected sex, light cum play, VERY LIGHT degration (He calls her a “little bitch” once but it’s playful still noting in case it offends ppl)The end hints at a threesum…...with a certain redhead 

Tae is their sassy exec.assistant and makes a cheeky little appearance at the end.

Jonnie baby is tatted...LORDT

There a fun freaky little couple...

WC:6k

NOTE- This is kinda old and  was set to be part 1 of an OT7 AU called “7 DEEP” 

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  “Really?” Goddamn, leave it to Namjoon to make one word sound just as sexy as it was intimidating! 

You heard the footsteps fuck you did, you just opted to ignore them and hope maybe he’d just, I don’t know leave? Maybe he was just doing a wellness check? But, if that’s the case, as your tired, unfocused, half-lidded gaze caught the bottom right of your laptop screen, which was glaring back at you something vicious! You realize that you’ve royally fucked up, and its a cute little 2 am right now! So no, he’s not going any damn were, anytime soon….

“Baby” The word left his lips just as much disappointment as it did allure which is a hell of a combination I know, I know, but in all honesty, it fits the mood. You caught his visual briefly through the mirror mounted against the wall and fuck, your man is fine as all hell! Frame resting casually against the entryway, arms folded firm across the smooth chiseled planes of his caramelized tattooed chest. Oversized cat-eye glasses perched on top of that cute little button nose of his, A pair of loosely fitted sweats sitting low against his v-lines, the thin grey fabric left nothing to the imagination as he’d clearly opted against boxers tonight. Shoulders and arms flexing effortlessly due to his current position which screams nothing but “Your ass is in trouble”. Which I mean, your kinda here for...kinda not….

Only offering a low hum in response as you continued scrolling through mounds resumes and video reels that were currently clogging up the admin email that was typically reserved for Taehyung. And that’s when you hear his feet shuffle closer, and closer until there’s a heavy yet comforting weight pressing against your back. The temperature around you shifting, as he leans down, arms braced on the table on either side of your frame. His long, beautiful, veiny fingers pattering idly against the glass, showcasing an array of rings, one of them being his Cartier wedding band as his lips nuzzling into your neck. Nosing up and down your skin slowly, almost teasingly, just breathing you in until your shifting back against him, a strong chill running down your spine. 

“We talked about this…” Voice low, seductive, yet stern and still clearly a little disappointed...nipping at your neck, not hard enough to leave a mark but just enough to make a point. Forcing yourself not to lean back into his touch no matter how bad you wanted to beg for more than just him grazing his teeth along your skin! You needed him to bite, hard, and he already knows it too, how much you get off on being marked..and that’s exactly why he’s not doing it...The little shit! 

“I know but -” Namjoon reaches up to slam your laptop shut, sliding it and the stack of papers to the opposite end of your dining room table, that you’ve managed to convert to a makeshift office. 

“We talked. About this” Simply parroting the words again, just slower this time as if to say you clearly must not have heard him correctly initially.

You sigh. Deep, slow, defeated, a nod rendering, out as a half-arsed response triggering Namjoon to pull back from you only to slide your chair from beneath the table. Shifting it to face him before dropping to a squat between your thighs. Gaze unwavering as he took in your blatantly exhausted appearance, still, he couldn’t help but melt as he reached out to caress your jaw feeling the way you nestled into it instantly. Your eyes fluttered shut briefly, as he smoothed his hands down your body, slipping beneath your robe to gently massage your thighs.

“So what the fuck, are you doin?” Brow arched as if he was daring you to actually respond, yet there wasn’t a single sharp edge to his voice, it was suddenly soft, calm. As if he was genuinely asking why you were doing this to yourself because he can’t make a lick of sense of it! You’re barely able to hold your eyes ajar right now yet you were out here working....

You couldn’t really handle the intensity of his gaze right now, more so because you knew he was right, you were so fuckin exhausted right now it’s unreal! Let’s also mention that the two of you have to catch a flight to Vegas for a business meeting in a good oh I don’t know 7 hours! So, instead of acknowledging that this was really stupid, you opted to reach for the one resume he didn’t manage to move out of reach. Eyes nervously scanning the paper as a distraction while you tried to think of a rational that even you’d believe at this point! 

'Fuck, we just- I don’t know Joon, we just have so much going on right now! And you know I’ll never complain about us having too much work I mean, I'm grateful every damn day that we’re not where we were!”

You intentionally paused, letting “that” have its own moment because it's something to always be acknowledged! The two of you went from living in a 900sq ft apartment with 5 other people to effortlessly clearing 8 figures as of this last tax year. Humbled and grateful to be busy isn’t even the beginning of how you feel! 

“But I just look at everybody...Yoongi’s responding to emails at fucking 3 AM! Jimin playing around docusign at the ass crack of dawn every damn day sending out contracts! Taehyung up scouting locations at 6 AM on a Sunday which is supposed to be his only day off I just- Everybodys in over their head so I thought I’d just- “ Namjoon reached up and grabbed your chin, snatching the paper out of your hand and forcing you to look him dead in the eyes. 

“So thought you'd overwork my wife instead?” 

You just shrug and nod again, tossing your hands in the air, it’s clear you have an attitude but it’s also clear it’s with yourself! You keep piling more and more on your plate instead of delegating it out to other people to handle! It’s a trust thing, and Namjoon know’s that,  it started out with just the two of you, then for years it was seven , seven deep. It’s hard for you to let new people into something you and your husband built from nothing! However, Taehyung just got a part-time assistant of his own so he can go back to strictly being your right hand, and realistically, he’s salary! Your little Gucci boy probably doesn’t mind drinking his Starbucks and driving his BMW around LA looking for houses to film in! You could have spread the workload out a little you just fuck, I don’t know, you’re always that person to put people first to a fault I guess! Point being, Tae could easily handle this, tomorrow, during normal business hours, you could have and should have been in bed with your husband! 

Namjoon can sense how uneasy you feel right now, almost like your a child being scolded and that’s not at all what he’s aiming for; he's just genuinely concerned. So he opts to ease the atmosphere just a little to remind you, that the two of you are always on the same playing field, he’s only reacting like this because he cares! Flicking the bottom of your chin before leaning in, pressing a firm, yet passionate kiss to your lips as if he’s trying to drive the point home, slipping his tongue past the seam almost instantly. Not even attempting to keep this somewhat chaste, needing you to feel every inch of infinite love and fire he has burning through his veins when it comes to you! Kissing you with enough force to knock the wind out of your chest, moaning contently as you give your husband free rein to explore your mouth. Turning the kiss slightly more delicate as he lets his hands slide even deeper under the robe to continue roaming your body. The slide of his tongue becoming softer, slower….as the pads of his fingers trickled up your spine.

Sucking your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls back “Were all busy baby, I get it, I hate seeing them like this too, you know I love them just as much as you do! And that’s exactly why we put out those ads, but that does not mean you get to take on everyone else’s shit! Don’t make me put in a complaint to HR about unfair treatment within the workplace!”Murmurs against your lips, as you stare down at his, barely paying attention to a damn thing he said! 

“Joon I am HR…” You mumble low and unamused, eyes rolling to the back of your head in annoyance and he could give less than a damn. Leaning in with a smirk playing on his lips, leaving another lingering kiss against your own. Kissing you with enough fire to have every hair along your body standing on end! Until your practically chasing after him in a pout the minute he pulls away from you. 

“Mmm, and my point still stands….” Namjoon's hands tighten around your hips, scooting you forward so your legs are wrapped around his waist. Your arms instantly lace around his neck, trailing your fingers upward, so they can get lost in his freshly dyed locks.

“Stop, overworking my baby! You know I don’t like  it…” His delivery was just as much playful, as it was stern! 

“Fuck, whatever okay, sorry!” You really weren’t at least not right now, there wasn’t a lick of conviction in that as you reached up to bring his lips back down to yours. Sliding in tongue first, capturing his lips in another opened mouth kiss, the rhythm quickly starts getting messy more so on your end because you’re getting needy! Namjoon tastes intoxicating and you’re blissed out of your mind, even after all these years, this man can still manage to have your toes curling with just a simple kiss! , Arching forward giving him easier access to grab you ass and he takes the hint, the faint sting of blunt nails digging into the swell of your ass has you whimpering out low and filthy against his tongue.

The kiss breaks much to your dismay but before you can even protest Namjoons tongue is lapping down the side of his neck, mapping out all the places he’s learned over the years. Nipping down on your flushed skin ever so often this time he’s biting with a purpose though, giving it to you just the way you like it. 

“Y/n were done with work now right??” He can hear you panting out low and wanton into his ear once he attaches himself to the crook of your neck, sucking maliciously, an almost animalistic growl leaving his lips in the process. There’s a hint of frustration mixed in with arousal dripping off his tongue right now, your too caught up to notice! 

“Namjoon '' You breathe out his name with nothing but lust pouring off your tongue, not an ounce of shame insight in regards to how needy you sound right now. The sound goes straight to Namjoon’s dick which is beaming at you like a spotlight through the thin fabric of his sweats. Tilting your head back, and anchoring one of your hands into your husband’s hair keeping him in place, overwhelmed with pleasure as you go completely pliant under his menstruations. Regardless, this man's self control was somethin’ serious,and he wasn’t giving in just yet...you still had one more cross to bear baby girl! 

“Fuck. Please” Tugging on his scalp like the brat you tend to be, as if to emphasize your point, making Namjoon pull away licking up your jaw in the process. The drag was slow, messy, waving his tongue against your skin the same way he would your pussy and you felt yourself start to involuntarily clench harder and harder by the second. 

“Hmm? What was that baby?” Tugging the shell of your ear between his teeth hard enough to make you whimper into his hair “Now you wanna come to bed?” You can feel him smirking against your skin and you just really don’t like your husband at all right now just so we’re clear.

All you do is whine in response, yanking his hair even harder until you feel a firm hand land on your ass making you yelp out of your seat. 

Nam-fuck!” Hissed through clenched teeth, thighs tensing around his waist. 

“So again…” Tone as coy and casual as can be as he winds his hand back only to land smack dab on the curve of your ass again, right in the same spot, you wouldn’t be surprised if his palm left an indentation behind! 

Namjoon’s hand was literally pulsing against your skin the impact was so damn strong, all the metal dancing along his fingers didn’t help either! You swear the ripple echoed throughout your entire apartment, and the scream that left your throat was without a doubt noise complaint worthy! Fuck your gonna need to send them an edible arrangement or somehing, they already hate the two of you as it is… 

Your panting and whining opened mouth right into his ear, and it’s getting you nowhere but horny and frustrated! Nails, digging little crescents into his shoulders as you try and almost reroute so of the pain that’s buzzing through your veins. But it’s good, it’s soo good, the slickness coating your inner thighs gave that away! Namjoon can smell how much you’re enjoying this, his little pain slut as he often likes to call you! 

 “You wanna stay out here all damn night. Work yourself into the ground. Leave me in bed alone, and now all of a sudden you think you get to boss daddy around? Hmm? Just because your pussys nice and wet and your feelin needy ...now you want to go to bed?” Namjoons tone is blatantly taunting and a little harsh yet the slight growl laced with it all has your head spinning far too fast to even be mad.

‘Oh my god, Namjoon just fuck me already! Shit!” 

“Why the fuck should I do that? Could’ve had me hours ago baby, all I wanted to do tonight was fuck you, that’s all I wanted all damn day.” Slipping his hand between your thighs pinching your clit between his fingers, slowly rubbing the pads of his together on either side, stimulating your clit head-on until your groaning into the side of his neck.”Do you even, know, how hard it was for me not to just bend you over the conference room table today!?” 

“Joon” You try again and he doesn’t budge, he actually let’s go of your clit all together and just teasingly trailing his fingers along your entrance never entering just driving you fucking insane! Looking as fine and unbothered as ever, as his lips ghost up the curve of your jaw. 

“Hmm, let’s try this shit again.Why-” Bringing that same hand up to grip your jaw with enough pressure to indicate he wasn’t fucking around anymore. “Should I give you what you want when you continuously keep disobeying my only request? Hmm???” You can feel your own slickness against your skin, yet all you can focus on is the blatant aganer, and hurt running through your husbands veins. Even beneath all this bravado..he’s clearly really hurt about this, so play times over!

“Fuck, okay!” There was slight elevation to your voice, tetoring on yelling actually. The arch in Namjoons brow said you had about two seconds to fix that , but you already planned on it! Taking a deep slow breath, letting your eyes flutter shut to just...recenter yourself for a moment! 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m. Sorry. ” There it was, not that bratty whiney shit you did earlier to get what you wanted, a genuine “I’m sorry” . Soothing your nails through his scalp, it’s almost instantaneous the way his demeanor shifts once those words fall off your tongue in a more..sincere fashion.  

A low hum rang in the back of his throat at the admission, nosing at your cheek “Sorry for what exactly? Because I don’t want it if you doing this just to appease me baby. That won’t do shit for me. ”  Namjoon’s tone is a lot softer now, all of the prior theatrics and pettiness is gone as he awaits your response.

“No, Joonie baby, no!” Pressing a soft but firm kiss to those sinfully plump lips of his that you still can’t get enough of no matter how many years go by…”No”

“ As your partner, I gotta look out for me just as much as I look out for you and I clearly haven’t been! I know better! And I should be taking advantage of the fact that we’re lucky enough to now be in a position where I can hire an array of people if need be. It’s just- you know I’m a control freak, this business isn’t just a business it’s our baby!”

You watch his mouth open in protest and you just simply continue speaking “But regardless, I know it’s not more important than me, or my health I know…” You instantly feel the tension within his body dissipate at that, thumbs kneading at your hips.

“ I’m sorry, I love you and I’m sorry I’m not trying to stress daddy out!'' There's a slight playfulness to your delivery trying to lighten the mood a little though you know how serious this topic is for him! You find yourself wiggling in his hold trying to somehow get even closer than you already were. 

So here’s the thing, back when you were in college just starting out, the two of you had a lot on your plate! Between school juggling multiple jobs, internships, and just trying to figure out how to even start a company of this caliber….The level of exhaustion he often saw you at was utterly heartbreaking. The number of times you passed out due to lack of sleep is unmentionable… so seeing you like this...was fucking unacceptable in Namjoon’s eyes! 

You notice those big brown orbs of his get a little glassy so you grip the back of his neck even tighter dropping your forehead to his. Feeling like complete and utter trash right now! 

 “This business is not more important than my wife, my partner, my best friend...it’s not! However, you are more important than, all of it, this fuckin overpriced apartment, all the shiny little toys we’ve been able to buy, and this entire company in general! I love you, but I need you to look me in the eyes and fucking promise me that you’ll stop this! Please…” 

You can hear a slight trimmer laced within that deep honey-coated tenor of his and the sudden vibrato’s foreign, and you’re not a fan! It took everything in you not to cry at the blatant plea rolling off his tongue, well aware this man does not beg! So instead you just leaned in and kissed him, hard, slow, just letting everything you couldn’t really articulate pour from your lips to his and hope he got the message. 

“I promise, I love you…I promise!”

“And you know I fuckin love you…”  You do, fuck you do, even if this marriege was high key an accidnet..it’s without a doubt one of the best things that’s ever happened to you!

“I know”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah”

Ducking down, kissing you reckless and with fevour, messy, wet, teeth clacking together. Slowly transitioning the mood from deep and touching to just...raw and nasty which is kinda what you’d prefer at the moment!

 “I wasn’t lyin when I said I’ve wanted to fuck you all damn day though…”

“Please” you whisper out as he pulls back to lick down your neck, pressing your chest together to give him better access. Sucking his mark in a spot right beneath your jaw, well aware you’ll need an ass-ton of conclear within the next couple of hours, but right now you could care less!  

“Please what baby? Tell daddy, what you want?” Namjoon presses, biting his lip and sliding his hand back between your legs groaning out at how completely drenched you are right now. 

“Fuck me!” You pant out low and whiney

“You want it here baby? You want daddy to bend you over the table?” The familiar hunger that was back in his eyes was so fucking sexy and  it had you rutting against him for any ounce of stimulation! 

“No.Bedroom” Namjoon moans in agreement, securing your thighs around his waist and scoping you out of the chair, heading towards the opulent master suite the two of you shared.

Once inside he throws you down on the bed, hard and almost animalistic, making you bounce a little against the firm California king. Namjoon follows immediately, crawling over to cover your body with his own, his broad form completely engulfing your frame. Ripping your robe apart, and letting your tongues meet once more. Hot slick, and eager as you pant out hot and heavy against one another. Soothing is palm down your stomach, cupping your entire heat in his palm. Moaning out that it feels just fuckin like that. Wet and warm, so damn warm...ducking his head down to lick your nipple into his mouth, sucking slow but hard at the same time, nipping and grazing the bud between his teeth.

“Fuck” You moan back arching off the bed and into your husband’s mouth, as he licks trails across your sternum and over to your other nipple. While also stroking his entire palm against your pussy, Namjoon’s always loved how responsive you are to him even after all these years. Just letting his tongue lave over the buds over and over, alternating between, licking, sucking, and biting so your body never gets used to the stimulation. 

“You fuckin, love this shit don’t, you? Bet I could get you to come just like this...wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” You can feel his lips curling into a smirk around your nipples the harder he sucks, bringing his other hand into the mix, the one that’s nice and slick with your arousal. Using it to twist and turn your nipple between his nimble fingers until he can’t tell if your arching into the pain or away from it. He can feel you grinding against his thigh, more importantly, he can feel your clit sticking to his thigh your so damn wet, soaking straight through his sweatpants. Moaning out loud and unfiltered, eyes shut as you rock your hips against him, your hands getting lost in your hair the harder you rock against the bed.

“Fuck, look at you baby, rubbing your sweet little cunt against my thigh..” A low almost arrogant chuckle rumbling in his throat, vibrating against your skin making you moan even louder. “Fuck, here I was thinking you wanted to come on my dick...” 

“Fuck- I do, I wanna come all over you, want your mouth too though…” Reaching out to play in his hair, almost pushing his face down even harder, though you swear you can feel his lips curl into a wicked little smile at that moment. 

“Yeah? You want daddy's tongue all over your pussy…” He didn’t even bother phrasing it as a question, especially once he meticulously started rolling his tongue along your nipples, in a oh too familiar motion that had you turning into a whiny brat within seconds! 

“Namjoon!” He doesn’t even respond, just pulling off and flipping you right on to your stomach, hard and fast, making you damn near choke on your own spit. Face pressed into your fresh linen sheets.. You start to slightly arch your back on insctint. You feel him shift off the bed, peeping over your shoulder to see his sliding off his sweats, stashing his glasses in his side pocket. Namjoons length is just standing straight up, damn near laying flat against his stomach and you straight up moan, mouth-watering at the sight alone. A pleased hum leaves those plump lips of his as he shuffles back onto the bed. Kissing and licking his way up the back of your thighs until he reaches your ass, straddling your hips. 

Palm rubbing at the swell of your ass before smacking it, lightly at first, and your hip twitches you actually have the nerve to giggle. “That all daddy’s go-fuck” Another. Scream. Literally. Scream as he reels back even harder than he did earlier, just keeping his hand intact too, wanting you to feel the trob, the ache, radiating off his palm to your ass. 

“Hmm what was that baby?” Leaning down to spread your cheeks apart, just blowing a trail, against your pussy, watching the way your hole clenches from that alone. “Always so fuckin wet and ready for me…” 

He groans and you, arch your back, even more, moaning out slightly at the contrast hitting your skin. Bracing both hands on your ass and he can hear your breathing shutter in your chest, already anticipating the first drag of his tongue. Dipping one thumb over you rim, just circling it gently, feeling you jerk at the sensation, no matter how light, fuck your still so damn sensitive. That will never stop amazing him, it’s been almost 8 years. Yet you still react like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you like he’s still helping you explore new places along your own body! Namjoon leans forward, nipping, licking, and sucking, open mouth kisses, against the backs of your thighs, before leaning down to kiss your clit. Tongue and all, sucking it straight into his mouth, moaning out deep and strong around the bud. Inhaling slowly as if he's breathing you in and your knees already start to buckle,  nails clenching around the sheets. 

A broken moan of his name being muffled into the fabric, as he rolls his tongue in deep, languid strokes up and down your folds, licking from front to back. Your wetness is already painted all over his face and he wouldn’t have it any other way, as he continuously, maliciously sucks down on your clit, gently grazing the skin between his teeth just enough to make you squirm. Bringing his tongue to lather over your rim and he feels how hard you start shaking, sliding in two fingers into your heat, knuckles deep at the exact moment he slips his tongue past your rim. The vision that is you, open, needy, and whiney, on all fours...is driving your husband absolutely insane! How quickly you’re falling apart, knees spreading even wider to give him all the access he needs to do with you as he pleases. 

“Yeah..” You sign, blissed out of you goddamn mind ‘Fuck”

Your voice drips in the whiniest tinge of need imaginable like you’ve been aching for this, and the sounds richotect straight off your tongue and into Namjon’s lap! Your chest drops forward, letting Namjoon essentially all support your weight, as his tongue dives in even deeper, while continuously fucking you open with his fingers, he’s already added a third one. Mind completely spinning at how hard your clenching around all three of his fingers, cock throbbing at how good you’ll feel around him soon enough. You feel him pull back to spit right along your rim, watching it drizzle down toward your clit, he picks the trail up with his tongue and leads it where he wants it to go. Namjoon moans out, low, and content as he really starts to eat you out your tongue and fingers working your pussy open until your voice hitches in your throat and shatters. Ripping, a long drawn out whimper to leave your throat.

“That feel good?” He murmurs low and taunting, and you can’t help but roll your eyes, as if he can’t physically tell he feels good.

“I’ve had better”

He bites your cheek playful, a snort leaving his lips “Fuckin same..” slurs out against the swell of your ass and you can’t help but cackle.

“Fuck, I bet you have now, stop talking and get your fucking tongue back in ME!!” Bossy as ever, damn near pushing his head down and he reaches up, biting the side of your hand forcing you to stop. 

“How about my cock instead?” Leaning back to smack his length aginst your ass a couple times, letting you feel how hard and ready he is. 

“Yeah! God yeah, fuck yeah! Gimme! In me now! Fuck me!!” All your prior teasing is gone, just the mention of his cock has you needy and clenching painfully hard around his fingers, while also simultaneously rutting back against them as if you don’t want him to pull out. Pulling his fingers out slowly. Curling them upwards, purposely coating his fingers in your arousal to use to lather his cock which is so hard right now it’s almost painful. 

“Daddy” Wiggling your offensively empty ass in his face, making him chuckle, and smack it lightly. before gripping your thigh and flipping you onto your back with such ease it was almost offensive. 

“Nam-”

“Fuck off” Leaning down and stealing your breath and sarcasm away with a deep kiss “I wanna see my baby..” Lining himself up to your entrance, you exhale softly against his mouth as the blunt head of his cock breaches your entrance. Hiking your leg around Namjoon’s waist to make him slide in even deeper.

“Yeah, fuck” 

“I hope you don’t think…” Shifting forward wiggly his hips a little, giving you half a second to adjust to how fucking big this man is! “We’re about to make love or some shit, because I’m about to break your ass..” There’s just as much of a smile as there is a dangerous edge to your husband’s voice, that has you beaming up at him. Before you even had time to think of a response he was snapping his hips forward hard enough to have the two of you scooting up the bed a little.

Namjoon, propped your leg even higher over his shoulder, as he snapped his hips forward again, even harder this time. You moaned out, and scurried to grab onto your husband’s neck to anchor yourself as he fucked into you hard and fast, you tried to arch and fuck him back but it was hard with how intense he was pounding into you! 

“Oh my godddd” You drawled out, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Yup, Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called that, in this position.....” You could hear the smile in his voice as he continued fucking you like he was trying to split you open with his cock. Nails clawing into his back hard enough to break skin! 

You could’ve just laid there and took, it because fuck if it wasn’t good, but that’s not the mood you were in at the moment. So you dropped your leg from his shoulder and wrapped them both around his waist. Tipping your hips forward, clenching down hard around his cock as you started grinding your hips against him. Fucking him back the same way he was giving it to you. Hard and smooth.. 

“Y/n” He half growled half whined as you smiled up at him, something wicked, releasing your hold around his cock only to clench down even harder. He groans in what seemed like frustration reached down to smack pinch your clit between his fingers hard enough to make you cry out his name. Arching forward even harder. 

“Yeah, daddy like that, fuck.Me.just like that” you were breathless but the sass was clear as day, a slight chuckle leaving your throat. 

“Fuckin brat!” Reaching down with the same hand that was on your clit, wrapping it around your windpipe, adding just enough pressure to have your eyes rolling to the back off your head. The added stimulation throwing off your rhythm a little but you didn’t care, he had you…

“Yesss,yes, fuck!” His tattooed chest was flushed and covered in sweat as you continued fucking back against his cock, which was warm and continuously pulsing side of you. Filling you up and sliding completely out every single time. Your hole twitched painfully hard as the two of you worked in sync thrusting against each other in a smooth yet malicious rhythm, the sound of skin slapping you moaning, Namjoon grunting... 

Fuck an edible arrangement maybe the two of you should treat your neighbors to a spa weekend or something because they damn sure aren’t sleeping right now! 

“Ya know, if you would’ve came to bed earlier” He panted right into the side of your ear, still rolling his hips into you “I could’ve fucked you, came inside you” Leaning down to lick up the side of your jaw  “Licked all, of my come out of you, and then” Pulling back and snapping his hips up even sharper, as if to accentuate every word “Fucked.You.All.Over.-Fuck-Again” Every thrust had the wind being knocked out of your chest  “ But now..we don’t have tim-” 

Reaching up to twist his nipple between the tip of your nail, kneeing him in the stomach just enough to make his hips stutter and have him shuffling back so you can push him onto his back which he falls to willingly. That is, until you literally bounced down onto his dick, damn near gagging in the process he feels so deep in this angle. Almost tempted to feel up your sternum and see if he’s poking through. 

“You little bitch” Chokes from his throat with a stated smile the tones playful and airy, digging his nails into your ass, letting out an involuntary gasp as he rolls his hips up. Only for you to start rolling your hips back, again, and again, and again, in deep, slow, circles, switching up the pace a little from what it was before. Making sure your clit grazes against his pelvic bone every time.

“Yeah, fuck you” Your breathless, and tired, but you can’t help but smile at how completly fucked out he looks right now, eyes barley ajar, jaw tight, he looks so damn good! 

“Yeah, yeah, fuck daddy baby..fuck me..” It’s clear he’s only egging you on but fuck if it’s not working,he sounds down right sinful as you ride him. His moans are deep, loud, almost needy, at every roll your hips make, and it’s intoxicating! Reaching up and grabbing you down by your neck , licking his way back into our mouth, his grip is strong enough to without a doubt leave a bruise. Both of you moaning out pleased and needy as you start slamming your hips down meeting his upwards thrust. Instantly matching the pace he’d set. Namjoon pulls back, and slips three fingers into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag a little. Exchanging the grip he held on your neck for the back of your hair, as he brings his other hand down between your bodies to play with your clit, before licking his way back into your mouth.Feeling the way your thighs start to shake as you cry out against his tongue barely able to kiss him back at this point . 

“Your fuckin close baby, your pussy’s just screamig around me..” He’s breathless, not even trying to hide it anymore, voice horse and dripping with arousal. “Goddamnn I love you…” You clench so damn hard around him at that..I actually don't think anything turns you on more than hearing your husband say that. Especially sounding all fucked out and needy.

“Love you too baby..so fuckin much… “

“Good”  He chuckled low and dark agaisnt your lips “Now come, all over my cock like a good girl”  Fucking into you faster and harder, hand still rubbing blunt circles around your clit, tightening the grip he holds on your hair until your roots burn  “Y/n , baby, my baby, come for me, come for daddy...” 

It only took a few more thrusts before your orgasm ripped through you and you were crying out your husband's name, body spasming on top of him. Yet you still didn't stop rutting against him until he came in. You couldn't, you needed to feel it, body running away from him just as much as it was running towards him! You can feel how hard your clenching and its involnaty this time,so he reaches up with both hands rolling your hips against him one more time before slamming you down onto his cock. Just holding you in place while you continue to pulse around him, body shattering to pieces.

“Namjoonnnn fuck-fuck-fuck-” He grounds you agaisnt his cock as he jerks his hips up hard and fast, eyes squezzing shut, neck arching off the pillow, as his relase washed over him. A long drawn out moan of your name slipped off his tongue as he came, hard, hips stilling making sure to fill you to the brim, until he's sure he released every last drop he had to give..His own body shuttering in ovesentivty at this point. Namjoons fingers slowly soothed up your thighs, both of you panting painfully hard, wincing at the contact as you continue pulsing around him. Eyes locked in a half lidded gaze, a smile that started on your lips and ended on his as the two of you racked over each other's forms, hot sweaty, marked up, and fucked out. 

“Namjoon” You finally say, breaking the silence, a slight moan hanging off your tongue and he smiled back at you, reaching up to grip the back of your neck.

“Y/n” Parroting your name with the same lust filled drawl that you had, making you moan…

Nam-fucking-Joon” Leaning down to place a firm kiss to his lips, humming out instanly at the contact.

“Y/n Kim….” 

“Yup, that’s me!” Smiling out tired and dazed against his lips, while you felt his hand soothe up and down the curve of your back. 

“I love you”

“And, I love you” 

The two of you laid there like that for a moment, until his cock was completely soft and he gently slid out, still keeping you flush against his chest….just sitting in comfortable silence, breathing together..until..

“ Oww!! What the fuck was that for ?!” Your poor ass...at least it’s a pinch and not a smack this time...

“I mean it. I love what we do and I know sometimes realistically it happens there are only so many hours in a day I understand that. We wouldn’t be where we are if we didin’t work our asses off! But you’ve been doing this and running on fumes all damn week! I’ve just been watching from afar and keeping my mouth shut, hoping that you would sort it out yourself but I couldn’t watch you burn yourself into the ground anymore. Y/n. I’m serious! “

You can feel the weight behind his words, the way his heart seems to be beating harder now than it was when the two of you were having sex. 

So you lean down to press a kiss on his lips that almost seems far too delicate and out of place for what just happened only moments prior.

“I know.” 

Namjoon holds your gaze for a second longer before cupping the side of your face and kissing you firm and sweet, smiling against your lips once he feels you sigh into it. Hesitantly he pulls away and heads towards the bathroom and he already hears you whine in protest. Just flagging his hand in your direction, not even bothering to turn around.

 “We literally have a 9 AM flight and an 11:30 business meeting at the Plaza! Meaning, you have to be dressed and fully ready when we hop on the plane. Your fuckin showering..now. I don’t wanna hear it. ” 

Honestly, you were far too tired to protest and the tone of his voice let you know you wouldn’t win anyway!  So I mean, fuck, at least there’s a bench in the shower! 

“Ugh, fuck, fine! Come carry me! I have to preserve my energy to walk in my Louboutins tomorrow!!!” Making grabby hands in his direction knowing damn well he can’t deny you anything. 

“You mean today!” You heard his voice echo off the tiles and hoenstly he seems far to chipper to remind you have of, which only makes you whine even louder! 

Heading back out the bathroom with a smirk on his face, shaking his head in dismay as he scoops you effortlessly into his arms. “Come here you little brat!” 

“Your brat!” You fire back, with nothing but smugness rolling off your tongue as you loop your arms around his neck, kissing his dimple.

“Fuck yeah you are, my brat, my wife, my fuckin baby” Inviting his tongue back into your mouth as he leads the two of you back into the bathroom! 

The two of you moved together lazily whilst in the shower, taking turns washing each other, slow touches and kisses. Murmuring sweet nothings mixed in with business because though you tried to leave work at work...sometimes it’s impossible! 

Not even bothering to look at the clock once you finally melted into your bed, honestly, you didn’t even wanna know. 

~~~

 Far too soon the sound of all 6 of your alarms went off, ya know, the “Okay I should get up but I don’t have to get up” All the way to the “Fuck, I’m late!” Alarm! They all went off until you found yourself practically being scraped off the floor and led into the guest room that the two of you converted into an additional closet and a place for you to get ready in peace! 

Sitting down, Starbucks in hand as you set out to beat your face, do your hair and try not to look like you stayed up until 1 am then got fucked into the mattress until you damn near cried! 

The Starbucks was curiosity of Taehyung who had keys and free reign to your apartment whenever we felt so inclined. The redhead welcomed himself into your space, waltzing over in your direction with an all-knowing smile on his face. Ducking down to leave a slow lingering, open mouthed kiss along the one mark on your shoulder you apparently forgot to cover this morning. You can feel him smirking against your skin,as he pulls back to flop down on the pink furry chair currently covered in rejected outfit choices. Trying to force yourself to ignore the sudden chill that rang through your body because you didin’t have the time or the engery for anything else. 

‘Why aren’t you wearing this? Your ass looks fuckin great in this!” Holding up a black halterneck Jumpsuit, brows furrowed in the center of his face.

“I know, but, it needs to be steamed and I don’t have the time..” A feigned pout playing on your lips as you batted your lashes at him through the mirror. Watching as he slid off the chair, with an exasperated huff, eyes rolling to the back of his head more times than you can count. Heading towards the steamer you had hanging along one of your many clothes racks.  

“Thank you, baby!!” Blowing him a kiss that he swatted away in the process! 

“Yeah, yeah! Soo I see someone was impatient and went through the resumes last night…At fuckin midnight!” Eyes glaring in your direction, you could hear the frown in his voice. “Y/n-“

“Don’t!” Eyes narrowing in his direction through the mirror “Daddy Joon already got in my ass enough about last night for all of you!” 

 “As he fuckin should! That’s what you have me for baby, so you aren’t doing that shit to yourself anymore!” You can tell he’s trying to sound authoritative but instead, he just sounds sad and equally disappointed!”

“I know, Tae, I know, I’m fuckin workin’ on it!.” Your delivery comes out a little sharper than you intended but he’s known you far too long to take it personally or even fully acknowledge it honestly! 

“Speaking of, I actually met this kid, not fully a kid he’s like 21, but anyway he just graduated from USC, for some sort of Film. I actually ran into him at Starbucks today and he’s supposed to be sending me his resume and some video reels in a little while.” 

A low hum ringing in the back of your throat, far too focused on carving out your brows to talk...but he took that as a hint to continue. 

“His name is Jungkook, he seems somewhat promising just from talking to him, so, I’ll feel it out and if it seems worth your time I’ll forward over his information! I’m also going to try and set up a couple of interviews for you and Joonie next week!” 

Offering a faint nod in response, still far too focused on your makeup to give much else, or realize the sudden fire burning in Taehyung's eyes as he watches you get ready. Silk robe hanging loosely off your frame, a pair of white lace panties peeking out...

“What time were the two of you trying to get dropped off at the airport?” The sudden shift in conversation, and the blatant octave change had your eyes meeting him through the mirror. Trying to feel out his mood…

“In the next hour or so…” Then there’s Namjoon, standing in the doorway wearing nothing but his dress pants, an unbuttoned silk shirt, and a smirk that screams nothing but trouble. 

“Come’re” The bass in Namjoon’s voice alone has chills running down your spine, a second away from shifting out of your seat until you realize he’s not talking to you. Flicking his finger in the redhead’s direction, edging him off the wall slowly. Biting his lip as he sways coyly in your husband’s direction. 

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

THAT’S ALL SHE WROTE! FOR NOW, IF YOU LIKED IT.. ,SHOW THIS SOME LOVE AND I’LL CONSIDER ADDING TO IT!  I DID MAP OUT THE FIRST 3 CHAPTERS LAST YEAR WHEN I STARTED THIS BUT I DIDN’T PHYSICALLY WRITE THEM! BTW I KNOW I DIDIN’T MENTIONED ALL OF THEM, BUT ALL O BTS MINUS KOOK WORK FOR THE OC AND NAMJOON!

MASTER LIST 

[the-scooby-gang]

Us... But not quite

Part 1

Crossover: Mystery incorporated x My Scooby Gang

Summary: After falling through a portal while they were being chased by their most horrifying monster yet, The Scooby Gang finds themselves in a place they have never been before. A place called Crystal Cove.

No one saw the portal.

Shaggy was running ahead of them, each step faster them the last, Scooby in rapid pursuit. Fred, Velma, and Daphne were not far behind while the ghost from Blackhill facility loomed over their backs way to close for comfort.

The hallways of the old medical facility were narrow, without a window on sight, either covered in mold or falling apart. Each step taken resonated in the walls and a thousand same steps followed you, echoing in the stale air. The light system was barely functional, flickering on and off like it was candlelight on the wind, each movement made in the weak light or in the complete void with only their lanterns to lead the way.

Shaggy spent most of the night handheld by one of the gang while his other hand was firmly attached to Scoob’s collar. Since the gang started dating, Shaggy had shed his fears little by little, taking comfort and support from their presence and encouragement. For months he, and by extension Scooby, was getting more confident, especially with their acting and disguises.

“Like, its easier to be brave when you are pretending, you know?”Shaggy had said after a case. He was smiling from the back of the van, Daphne helping him sew one of his dresses back together after the skirts having being lacerated by the ghost lions from the Pongie circus, one of their more festive cases.

But there was something different in this particular mystery. And it was not only Shaggy that noticed.

The Blackhill scientist was a grotesque creature. There were local myths and legends that said that one of the lead scientists tried several experiments with himself as the guinea pig, trying to make himself something more than human. Something better.

But not even armed with this information was enough to prepare them.

His skin, rotten and blackened, was falling away from his body like rags. The fingers no longer had any flesh on them and the white bone looked more and more like claws the closer he got; where the right eye should be there were only maggots and darkness; and the smell… Shaggy, Daphne and Scooby, the three with the best noses on the group, were beyond nauseated when they made the first contact.

“It smells like something rotten. You know, like roadkill that was left for days in the rain and then put to dry in the Arizona sun” Daphne had said in a whisper. The absence of windows and precarious old led lights gave the place an eerie feeling keeping them all on edge.

“Yeah. Like, as if something started to eat it and then threw up all over the carcass” completed Shaggy, that had his hand on Daphne’s strong grip, whispering even softer them Daphne did. Scooby whimpered and got closer to his best friend.

Velma and Fred had walked just some steps ahead and hadn’t known what frightened them more: the roadkill description; the smell; or the fact that even with both of them whispering, they could hear them perfectly. No wind passed them by. No door creaked from years of disuse. There was no sign of the pitter-patter of the rain that they knew they left behind.

But what truly made them pause was when they noticed.

Their feet no longer made a sound on the marble floors.

This was when it appeared again.

Now they were running. Running, running, running. It was just behind them approaching slowly like it had all the time in the world. Each step it took, more and more of its skin graced the floor like rotten autumn leaves. But the most unsettling thing about it was the bottom half. Where in any other human-shaped being a pair of legs would be present, the Blackhill monster had… something else…

They could not see clearly over the flickering dim light. Only that it was big. Big, contorted, and decaying. Just like the rest of the creature.

Even running they could not take their eyes away from the thing. How its sheer presence consumed the entire dark corridor. How they were, even without knowing, running from its shadow as if it was a second entity entirely.

Maybe if they were more attentive they would have seen where the creature was leading them. 

Maybe they would have seen the portal.

Falling, falling, falling. The portal appeared endless and void of anything. It was cold. Far colder them any cemetery they had ever wandered and darker them any night they had ever seen. There was no sound coming from nowhere. Even their screams refused to leave their throats.

There was no sound in the silence.

Grabbing each other for fear of being torn apart, they fell, and fell, and fell.

And then they stopped. They laid on the ground groning not too far apart from each other.

They were outside again and the sun was just starting to rise.

Fred was the first one to take a grasp on his senses.

“Hey gang, is everybody ok?” he said, crawling slowly to where Daphne was sited, one hand in her head, trying to make the world stop spinning for five seconds.

“If by Being Ok you actually mean I feel like a used spinning top, then yeah. I’m doing ok” Even Velma’s sassy voice sounded dizzy. Her glasses where nowhere to be seen. “What exactly was that thing?”

“To what are you referring to here? The sleep paralysis demon following us or the Alice in wonderland’s rabbit hole that we fell into?” Daphne was now standing, supported by Fred’s arms, cleaning her skirt the best she could. The world was still spinning, even if now in a more calm way.

“The portal, silly” Velma said, a little smile wanting to creep its way on her face. “The creep was what all the creeps are. It was probably just some dude in… to be fair, a really convincing costume…” here her voice vacillated a little. Even some of their most scary crooks didn’t pull this kind of… felling of dread from them.

“Well, man, if it was a crook in a suit we have found the most invested lunatic on the planet! Like, what did he do? Bathed in the remains of a poor cow somewhere in the local slaughterhouse??? That man stinks.” Shaggy said not too far away from them. Scooby was perched on his back like he was an extension of his body, the poor pooch still terrified from the entire ordeal.

Velma giggled and approached slowly the blurry form that had Shaggy’s voice. When she reached them, her clumsy fingers tried to discern with of the fluffy heads was Shaggy’s sandy hair or Scoob’s soft fur. When she found out which was a man, and with was a Dane, she asked Daphne for a Scooby Snack while she patted the pup between his ears. Scoob’s whines stopped almost immediately and he happily started wagging his tail.

“What a ham!” Said Fred when he approached arm in arm with Daphne, the promised treat already in hand.

While Scooby happily devoured his snack to the sound of the giggles of the gang, Shaggy started looking in his pockets. With a small Aha, he brandished a pair of red glasses like they were the most important artifact created by humans.

He slowly cupped Velma’s face with his hand while the other gently put the spare glasses over her eyes. When she finished adjusting them he leaned down and gave a little kiss to her nose, causing a new wave of giggles to escape her lips.

Scooby started snickering and slowly he left his perch on Shaggy’s back and took place by Daphne’s side, who had already forced the world back on its axis and was no longer using Fred as a beefy staff.

The atmosphere had regained its light, and the dread that had consumed them was now on the back of their heads.

“Ok gang, first things first. We have to figure out where exactly we are before we figure out how we got here. Velma, any ideas?” Fred started to look around, searching for something familiar on the small road they found themselves in.

“The air is windy and salty. This indicates that we are close to the coast, no more them five kilometers away I would say” Velma was looking around too, looking for any signs or tall buildings, but wherever they have landed it was more of a  road in the middle of nowhere them anything.

“Shag, do you smell anything?” Daphne asked. 

Shaggy had over the years of cooking and gardening developed a keen nose for all the foods and spices known to man, so much so that in one mystery he was able to locate a salt mine by smell alone. Since that day, the gang began to ask Shaggy what he smelled in the air. More times than not it was really useful for them to locate themselves, sometimes even give them clues. You would not believe what the local food said about a place.

He stopped looking around. Shaggy closed his eyes and straightened his back,  slowly filling his lungs with the night air. Fred and Velma stayed quiet, waiting. He took two more deep breathes before he opened his eyes again.

“There is a restaurant up north, like, probably a trucker stop or the first and last food joint before you leave a town. It’s American food that’s for sure, but it appears to have some europian influence?” here he took another deep breath “Yeah, definitely europian. Spain, if I’m not mistaken” another deep breath “Velma was right, like, no one eats that much fish and clams if they are not close to the coast! Do you guys know how expensive it is to import clams to non-coast cities? Man, it’s almost an arm and a half!”

Shaggy started to widely gesticulated the more into the local cusine he got into. The lanky man could go for hours just talking about preposterous food prices and the most ecletic recipes know to human (and dog) kind.  

“Ok, ok, Chef Rogers, we get it” Fred hugged Shaggy from behind, giving him a small kiss in the cheek “No matter how cute it is, now is not the time to get worked up on food prices”

Shaggy let himself relax agains his boyfriend’s chest and cuddled more into Fred’s warm arms, grumbling something about overpriced fish. Scooby was nodding his head saying something about expensive ralmon. Velma and Daphne laughed of how surreal it was that even the man’s dog appeared to have his broad culinary knowledge .

“Ok, so we are close to a Spanish influenced American coast town. So far so good. What you guys say that we go walking towards this road restaurant and see if we can find any more clues about where we fell on?” Said Daphne with one hand on her hip and the other pointing north, like she was one step away from starting a new adventure.

“Sounds good” Agreed Fred.

“The most logical” Said Velma.

“Restaurant! Yummy, yummy, yummy” Scooby was already licking his lips.

“Daph?” said Shaggy, having left Fred’s arms, now looking up at something.

“What?” She turned towards him, a questioning look in her blue eyes.

“You memorized the entire road map, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, and all the cities, towns, and historical sites from across America” she responded, not understanding where his line of thought was going.

“Where exactly Crystal Cove is them?”

“What?” They turned their heads towards Shaggy, then towards were his eyes laid.

Above their heads, a green sigh, one that they should have noticed before, read in big white letters:

CRYSTAL COVE. 3 MILES.

They all looked at Daphne, waiting for the answer.

But her face was getting paler and paler the longer she looked at the sign. Frowning, once in concentration, them in confusion followed by horror, her blue eyes turned to her lovers and their dog, with her words loaded with dread.

“There is no Crystal Cove”

[amerie-wadia]

Like a Heartbeat (Drives you Mad)

For the Anon who asked for Toni and Shelby with the prompts: “I’m worried about you.” + “They’re so cute when they’re asleep.”

Click here to read on AO3

Shelby dug her fingertips through the deep, charcoal sand. At first, she had scooped up the wet earth out of sheer boredom, a desire to move her body to keep from screaming. Overtime it had morphed into a means of coping with her anxiety. And it did help.

Shelby was upset. They were getting rescued and Shelby was upset and Toni fucking got it.

“Miss Shalifoe, did you hear my question?”

Toni let the sand fall between her fingers, watched as it pooled, grain by grain. The EMT kept asking her questions and Toni couldn’t quite figure out why all the burden seemed to be put on her. Well, it wasn’t completely shocking. Nora and Rachel were in pretty rough shape—they had been airlifted as soon as the helicopter flew overhead. Leah had totally lost her shit when the helicopter flew overhead just seconds after the shark attacked, as if it was truly all some freaky set up. Fatin and Martha had been consumed by their sobs, by their fear for Nora and Rachel. Dot had zoned out, perhaps as a way of coping, perhaps because she had just had enough and truly couldn’t do a thing. Shelby was the only other coherent one of the bunch but her hands were trembling and she couldn’t quite get her words out. Toni decided to answer the questions herself.

“No, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. Now, are you sure it was just the seven of you on the island? There wasn’t anybody else?”

“Huh?”

“I’m not trying to be patronizing, or anything, I just want to make sure we get all of you out of here.”

His expression looked a bit patronizing, his tone more so.

“It was just us. Jeanette was with us on the plane but she died the first night.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Where is she now?”

“I don’t know, a better place? A worse one? I didn’t really know her.”

He chuckled and Toni wished she had enough food in her stomach to vomit. He shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t clear. Where is her body? If she’s on the island I’ll need to pronounce her death. For legal purposes.”

“We buried her on the beach that way,” she pointed down shore, “but the tide washed her out.”

“The tide washed her out? Of the ground?”

“I don’t know, man. It happened though.”

“Okay, alright.”

Toni took another scoop of sand and a deep breath as it sprinkled down onto the ground soundlessly.

“It was internal bleeding—from the crash or the ocean maybe. Her stomach was like purple.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that, kid.”

“Me too.”

The EMT gave her a small smile and Toni wished the second helicopter would arrive soon. The pilot had promised he would send a radio message to the mainland to get them off the island as soon as possible. It felt like hours since Nora and Rachel had been sent off. There had been so much blood in the water that Toni couldn’t even tell whom had been hurt and how badly. She had closed her eyes, Shelby had shrieked, Martha had fallen to her knees. It had been only a few seconds, at first, but then hours had gone by and Toni still felt herself standing ankle deep in the ocean watching the shark’s fin circling Rachel as she floated.

Shelby was sitting beside Dot at the fire. Toni tried not to watch so she shifted her focus to the sand.

It had all happened so suddenly with Shelby. One moment she was that stupid, know-it-all, youth pastor who was singing church music while she peed and the next moment she was cradling Toni’s face as she kissed her more gently than Toni knew possible. Shelby was scared, more scared of being gay than Toni had ever been. Her coming out wasn’t that big of a deal, not many people in her community were homophobic and the ones that were only showed it in dark corners and empty parking lots. Her mom never stuck around enough to care and Martha and the Blackburn’s had accepted her with open arms. The Goodkind’s were not waiting with their arms outstretched for Shelby.

Toni wanted to reach out for Shelby, hold her hand or tell her that everything was going to be okay. But Shelby was in the closet, and Toni was never going to do anything to make Shelby feel forced to come out. She wouldn’t do that to her worst enemy.

Toni watched from across the beach until the sky was washed in darkness and the helicopter wind tossed her small sand mounds aside. As the EMTs ushered the girls into the helicopter, Shelby slid into the seat beside Toni.

“Hey,” she whispered, loud enough that everybody could hear over the eerie quiet, but soft enough that it was just for Toni.

“Hi.” Shelby made Toni’s voice sound softer than it really was, foreign to Toni’s ear. The last person who made her feel this soft was Reagan, and it still crushed Toni deep in her chest to think about Reagan.

“I’m worried about you.”

Toni felt her breath catch. Worried about her? What was Shelby worried about? Toni was going to be fine, just like she had always been. Shelby was the one who couldn’t stop shaking.

“I’m fine. I’m more concerned about you.”

“I’m serious, Toni. I don’t to be away from you.” Her face got serious and then she bit down on her lip and it rippled through her skin until her face went soft again. “I just…Look, I know things haven’t always been easy for you and, well, when Martha almost died and you said—”

“I remember what I said.”

“I just don’t want you to feel that way.”

“Shelby.” Toni glanced around but nobody was watching. They could hear them, might even be listening, but they all seemed to understand that they shouldn’t dwell. It felt too public to be a private conversation but the helicopter was starting to lift off the ground and the EMT was handing out headphones. Their time was running out.

“Toni, you’re not nothing.”

Toni’s chest hurt. She was about to say something really stupid.

“Don’t go back to Dallas.”

“It’s not that easy.”

The EMT gave Dot a pair of headphones. Only Fatin was left before Toni wouldn’t be able to talk to Shelby.

“It is. Come to Hopewell with me. Or we could go somewhere else. Or even—"

Shelby reached out for her hand, held it out in the open with a tightness that felt far too safe to be real.

She didn’t say anything else. Neither did Toni. The EMT handed them each their headphones and the helicopter crept into the sky.

The night was young enough that the island was still visible down below, just a faint outline of the worst and best of themselves. Toni suddenly felt Fatin take her other hand. Toni would normally feel suffocated, being surrounded by others as she cried—she wasn’t crying, Toni didn’t cry—but she didn’t feel scared at all. They had survived the worst-case-scenario, they had tried to kill each other at times but they had come together as a family. Toni hadn’t really understood what it felt like to be part of a family until the island. She held tightly to Fatin and Shelby’s hands.

She hoped Shelby understood that her offer wasn’t just a fantasy, that it could easily be their future. Shelby didn’t deserve those people, those judgmental and cruel people who would spend their lifetimes trying to change Shelby, to take everything that makes Shelby herself and burn it all away. Toni got fucked up families, and she knew how freeing it was to get away—how scary and guilt-ridden and lonely it was to be away. Toni could be there for Shelby, and Shelby for Toni. Maybe they could get jobs and have a little house with a hot tub.

Shelby’s hand had stopped trembling at some point. Toni knew it was because they were together, because Toni felt the same peace and safety having Shelby beside her. Shelby leaned against Toni and rested her chin on Toni’s shoulder. It was going to be a little while until they made it to wherever the EMTs were taking them. Toni had never thought to ask where they were or what was going to come next. She held tighter to Shelby’s hand.

“Dot! Dot!” Fatin resorted to shoving her elbow into Dot’s ribs since the girl clearly couldn’t hear her. “Dorothy!”

Dot’s eyebrows and shoulders went up in confusion.

“What?” she cried out, ringing a whisper through Fatin’s headphones.

“They’re so cute when they’re asleep,” Fatin shouted, hoping Dot could make out what she was trying to say. Shelby was fast asleep on Toni’s shoulder, with Toni snoring on the top of Shelby’s ratty hair. Their hands were woven together and feet tangled on the floor of the helicopter. Dot’s tense shoulders dropped and she smiled at Fatin. Fatin grinned, wishing so deeply that she had somebody to hold her like that, but also truly happy for her friends. Her family.

“They’re cutest when they’re not making our lives a living hell,” Dot teased. Fatin rolled her eyes but laughed.

“I love them.”

“Me too.”

“Love you, Dots.”

“Love you more, Fatin.”

Dot took Fatin’s hand and Fatin closed her eyes and let herself believe that when she opened them back up that everything would be okay.

[writingsbychlo]

more ways than one (06)

word count; 5207

summary; everyone finds out your secret, and shit kinda hits the fan.

notes; it’s pretty intense, but I promise that you’ll love it.

warnings; mentions of a panic attack, injury description, blood and gore.

It was a boring day when everything fell apart, and despite your shock and worry, you had to know it was coming soon.

A new problem always arose in your life, something always came up to shatter the peace. Just as the ripples on the surface of the pond began to smooth out, something else threw a pebble at the water, and during this quaint little time of peace, a new threat had been winding up with their aim set perfectly. 

You were in the supermarket, filling a basket with the various snacks you’d come to know that V liked over the past few weeks, when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You ignored the first one, and the second one, but soon the text alerts were flipping to that of an incoming call, and it was with a deep sigh that you paused in your perusing of different cereal bars and moved your attention to your phone, fishing it from your pocket. 

Lydia’s name flashed across the screen, and you rolled your eyes fondly, dragging your thumb over the green button and lifting it to your ear. “Hey, Lyds! You know, now actually isn’t such a great time f-”

“Yeah, you’ve been saying that all summer, you know.” You gaped at her snippy comment, pouting to yourself as guilt filled you, and yet you didn’t even have a chance to respond before she was barrelling on. “Would that have anything to do with the Stiles lookalike I’m currently staring at?”

Your stomach flipped, feeling as though it had suddenly filled with cement, and your palms went clammy, your mouth dry as you stuttered out your response; “What?”

“Yeah, there’s an impersonator for your best friend here at the loft, insisting to call you, and so here we are. Care to explain?” Her tone was short and aggressive, and you could tell she was mad at you, though you already knew she would be, it was inevitable, and yet you had thought you’d have more time to prepare yourself for this moment. 

You hadn't been planning to keep it a secret forever, you had wanted to tell them, and yet you had wanted to do it on your own terms, when the secret man you were harbouring in your friend’s home had been ready, and now you were panicking. You could barely catch your breath, your chest feeling like it was pushing in on itself, and you were becoming unsettling familiar with panic attacks. 

“(Y/N?) You there?” Her tone was softer, and she could hear you panting, struggling for breath once again, but you were already fishing for your car keys in your bag, hanging up the phone and shoving it lazily back into your purse. Your cart had been abandoned in the aisle, your hands shaking as you tried to unlock the car, and you hopped up into the seat, strapping yourself in and taking a deep breath.

Your eyes closed as you tried to calm yourself, jumping once again when your phone buzzed, Stiles’ face flashing up on your screen when you pulled it out to look at it. You considered just ignoring it, you considered letting it go to voicemail, but it kept on going, clearly, he wasn’t giving up and so you reached out for the device and took it. 

“Stiles.” Your voice was croaky, as you tried to hold back tears, but the moment your eyes closed you felt one drip along your cheek. He cooed at you, mumbling into the phone and you heard him shuffle away from everyone else, the shouting in the room fading away. 

“Oh, honey, I’m not mad.” Transferring the phone to the car speakers, you started up the vehicle, nervously pulling out of your parking space and heading for the building you were suddenly dreading approaching, having been so excited for this trip only ten minutes prior. “You hung up on Lydia, and you’ve been acting weird all summer. We were just worried, but now you’re okay. You’re okay, right?”

“I’m okay, Stiles. Don’t hurt him, alright? I’ll be there soon.” Your words were stuttered out, and he sighed into the phone, not out of anger or frustration, but simply from stress. 

“I won’t, (Y/N), but I’d be quick. It’s not me you have to worry about.” He paused, muffled talk on the end of the phone as he covered the speaker, and you slammed your hand into the steering wheel, pressing your foot down even harder on the pedal as you picked up the speed. “Look, I wasn’t the one who found him. You need to get here soon.”

The line went dead, and you tried to steady your racing heart, and stave off the oncoming panic attack. The drive felt like it had dragged on for hours, your eyes constantly flicking down to the clock, and only seven minutes had passed since you had left the store. You didn’t even bother locking the car, swiping the keys and your bag from the seat and racing your way upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. 

Your muscles ached and burned, screaming out in protest as you ran three entire floors uphill in what felt like it had only been thirty seconds flat. You were gasping for breath upon reaching the loft, the shouting inside having been echoing clearly through the building from the open door to the main living area, hitting your ears from the very second you’d stepped inside. Anger flooded through you as you took in the sight inside, and you took a deep breath to contain yourself. 

Your friends were all gathered around, varying expressions of concern to anger to confusion across their faces, and Stiles was the first to notice you. His arms were crossed around his middle, hunched over and chewing on the nail of his thumb when his eyes met yours, and he seemed to light up a little bit, Scott clapping a hand on his shoulder as he took you in, and your flannel-wearing friend skidded across the floor to you.

You glanced over his shoulder, brows furrowing at the group huddled around where you assumed your not-so-hidden friend to be, growling and yelling filling your ears, and while Stiles tried to grab you, you forced your way through.

Sitting on the floor, back to the wall was a very scared looking V, his eyes wide and frantic, claiming only a little when he saw you. His lip was busted, a red mark that was bleeding from a slight graze was hidden under his hairline, and you whipped around form him to face down your friends. Derek stared at you, teeth bared, wolf-side on full display as claws were bared when he pointed at you and you glared right back at him, holding your ground. 

Cora was by his side, and you shot her a quick glare, your jaw tense and shoulders squared as you stepped towards the two, your other friends all still talking, questions pouring from them, threats and wondering and your head was practically pounding from the noise and rowdy chaos already, and so you could only imagine the way the man cowering on the floor must feel. 

“Back the fuck up.” You were met with a growl from both Cora and Derek, and you raised your brows challengingly. “Are you going to maul me like a rabid fucking dog? If not, I said back off.”

Derek sighed, his claws pulling back, and he retreated back into himself, returning to his normal form, all except for his eyes which continued to glow at you, and Cora crossed her arms, sneering at you as she turned her back to you both, stalking across the room and upstairs as she mumbled insults and cruel words at you. Silence settled over the room, and you ignored them all, turning away and dropping to your knees, letting out a heavy sigh as you took in the worried face of the man before you. 

“Are you okay?” He shot you a look, to ask if you were really serious about that question, but you shuffled forward on your knees toward him, and he leaned up to face you better. Your hands cupped his cheeks, smoothing his hair back to look at the injury on his head, and you glared over your shoulder at the male wolf you assumed to have inflicted such an injury, and he at least had the dignity to look a little sheepish. 

His hands came up, covering yours gently and bringing them down from his face, your attention snapping back to him as he gave you a small smile, whispering his response as he let your connected hands fall to his lap. “I’m okay.”

“C’mon, let’s get you up.” You rocked back onto your feet, pulling him up to stand with you, and he was once again towering over you. He was practically pressed to your back once you turned back to your friends, and they all practically took a collective intake of breath as they prepared to fire off their questions at you once again. Holding your hand up, you looked at them all, feeling a pair of slightly cooler to the touch fingers slip in between yours, and you looked down at your hand, not the only one to do so, but you squeezed back reassuringly. “One question at a time, or we’re leaving.”

As if to make a point, Scott closed the loft door, and you rolled your eyes in exasperation, but returned your attention to the group. Derek was the first to speak up, as you’d have expected, and you braced yourself for anything he may say as he stepped forward. 

“How long has he been here?”

You grinned, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, having expected more to have been yelled or cursed at, and you shrugged, playing with his fingers between your own absentmindedly. “Since the beginning of the summer, not long after you left.”

“And why exactly is he here?” Allison piped up, and you moved to looking at her, feeling the man beside you shuffle a little closer, switching between his feet nervously. 

“I had to keep him somewhere, he was hurt when I found him.” 

The questions kept going, breaking up your explanation as they all took turns firing away in wonder until the story was almost entirely out int he open, but the more you got off of your chest was the more you panicked, because Stiles had yet to say anything, his eyes fixed on the floors as he took it all in. 

You could understand why; it was a lot. 

Everybody seemed to be reeling from your words. Knowing that you’d found this lookalike, having fought with him so much at first as you all but nursed him back to health, and he soothed your panic attacks. You’d spent almost your entire summer locked away here in the loft, teaching him how to cook and care for himself, how to use technology and teach him about everything he needed to know.

Stiles was the final question, his eyes meeting yours as he finally looked up at you, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Why does he look like me?”

Your jaw snapped shut, but your eyes stayed locked with his, and you worried about the words in your head while trying to think about what to say. 

“That one is a little harder to explain.”

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

The atmosphere around you all seemed to have cooled down, and you were sitting on the couch, the others sprawled out around you as you sat with your legs slung across your best friend’s lap, his hands smoothing up and down your calf, as he processed the story you had just told him. V was on the floor at the other side of the coffee table, watching on carefully and in silence as other’s milled about the loft. Kira and Scott were mumbling to one another about it all from the armchair, Malia was eating leftovers from the fridge and Lydia was bobbing a tea bag in her mug, blowing the steam off delicately as she clutched it in her hands.

The atmosphere was tense, you could tell there was still a simmering rage aimed at you for not telling them about what had happened, and yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to care because it was finally all out in the open, and he gave you a small smile as he finally looked up at you. 

“Guardian angel, huh?”

You grinned, nodding your head as Stiles sent you a dopey smile, and you reached a hand out to ruffle his hair. “Can you believe it?”

“Well, y’know, werewolves exist, I was possessed by a demon, Jackson turns into a cannibalistic iguana cosplayer, so why not?” He joked, and you shook your head, lolling back into the couch and closing your eyes for a split second, the tension leaving your body as you relaxed. Despite the anger that still resided towards your deceit, you no longer felt like you had to deal with the growing stress of keeping a secret from the people you cared about the most. “I do have a question, though.”

“Hmm?” 

“What exactly is going on between the two of you?” He pointed his finger between you and the man who looked exactly like him, who was currently occupied by a casual interrogation disguised as a chat with Allison, and you turned to look at Stiles. He only fixed you with a knowing look, his eyebrows raised and lips pursed, sealing away the cheeky smirk on his face. “It’s clearly something. But, it doesn’t change anything between the two of us, right?”

“God, no, never. I’ve seen you throw up all over yourself after eating a whole bag of curly fries and drinking seven of your dad’s beers before dancing on a table.”

“Hey, now, that was a good day.” He tucked you close to him, pulling you under is arm until your face was pressed into his side, and you scowled, your face screwing up as you tried to push away from him. 

“You smell! Get off me, when did you last wash your shirt? Or your pits for that matter?” 

He grinned, laughing it off, before beginning to talk your ear off about something you weren’t paying attention to, instead choosing to look to back to the other man, his eyes flicking to yours as Allison continued to barricade him with questions and ideas, your lips forming a smile, one eye dropping in a lazy wink, and he returned the sentiment by letting his lips twist up at the sides to smile back. 

For a good two or three hours, you felt the worries of the world slip away. The benefactor, the supernatural, everything slipped form your mind. The rest of the group had a lot of questions for V, and so as some kind of peace offering, Derek ordered in a fair amount of pizza for the group, and you found yourself leaning against his side, your legs crossed, his spread out before him and a box of pizza sitting between them, half-eaten as you shared the large wheel. 

It almost felt like this could become your new normal, like everything could go back to the way it once was, before Scott got bitten and before your life was flipped upside down, and for the first time in a long time, you weren’t cursing that fateful night that had made your world crazy. 

That little bit of joyful freedom came crashing down around your feet once again, as though fate really had it out for you on this particular day, because with everyone else in the group gathered around, there was no reason that the wolves of the group suddenly perked up, silence falling over everyone as heads lifted, looking into the air and sniffling out. 

Even Cora had made an appearance, the second after she came downstairs to glare at you and swipe up a box of pizza, before disappearing into her room again. Now, she was standing at the top of the spiral staircase, looking down with her eyes squinted as she stared at a certain spot on the wall, and the tension was palpable and thick.

Only seconds later, the easy mood was completely and utterly shattered, the door being pulled backwards with so much force that it bounced off of its sliders and almost tore from the wall. A team stood in the doorway, aggressive stances and armed with weapons, your jaw dropped. The noise around you felt like a sudden and muffled background filler, everything seeming to move too fast while also going far too slowly, and it wasn’t until you felt hands on your upper arms, forcefully pulling you to your feet with a bruising grip as you were tugged away towards the wall. 

Allison had kitchen knives in her hands, claws and fangs were flying around as a solid wall of supernatural and hunter force formed before you, and the acrylics of Lydia’s nails were digging into your skin as she dragged you backwards. Stiles was already pressed to the wall, eyes wide as he looked around and tried to find a solution, and V was staring right at you, his arms held out as he tried to lure you into action, break in through your shock or do something, and you stumbled along, falling into his arms. 

They wrapped tightly around you, a hand weaving into your hair as he held you tight, holding your face into his shoulder as the other wrapped around your waist. He kept you tightly to him, shushing your whimpers each time you heard a painful grunt or shout of agony. He mumbled in your ear, constantly reassuring you of what was happening, until you felt like you’d choked back enough panic to look up at the scene yourself. 

It was a battlefield, chipped wood from broken furniture and splattered blood across the walls and floor, Isaac was fighting, pinning someone to the floor as another had a coil wire wrapped around his neck, red hot and glowing as it sliced into his skin and he did the best he could to fight them both. 

Allison and Kira were back to back but overwhelmed, both Scott and Derek trying to deal with the growing threat of a crown around them before them as Malia moved to tackle the man trying to decapitate your scarf-wearing friend, a small sigh of relief leaving you. You were outnumbered but not outgunned, you knew your friends could handle it but that didn’t mean without sacrifice or injury, and you feared for the way they were coping. 

You knew you had to do something to help, you just didn’t know what.

Claws were being thrown, guns fired off, and a startled scream tore from your lips as a drinking glass shattered when a bullet flew right through it, and you’d had enough of cowering in the corner. Catching sight of a clawed-up metal pipe hanging from the wall, and you pushed the arms that were wrapped around you down, ignoring the shouts of Lydia and V, Stiles grasping your arm and following after you, skimming along the walls as you made your way toward it. 

Stopping down with force, the metal snapped away from the rest with a groan, clattering across the floor, and you scooped it up, thankful that the metal was cold as you held it securely in your hands. Wrapping your fingers around it, you stepped forwards, closing in on the man who currently had what was almost a spear in his hands as he jabbed at Scott’s chest, your friend doing the best he could to avoid it. 

You weren’t that strong, you didn’t have a lot of muscle to work with or any experience in fighting but with everything you could muster within yourself you swung forward, the impact reverberating along the pipe and shaking all the way to your hands as the man collapsed in a heap, unconscious on the floor as you shook. He had a gash across his skull, your hands shaking as your eyes went wide and Scott looked at you, watching as unshed tears formed and he shook his head, Stiles placing a hand on your back to comfort you. 

Leaning down, your tanned friend felt for a pulse, and you took a raspy and gasping breath. “I didn’t want to kill him! I was just trying to help, oh m-”

“Shh, no, he’s alive! You just have a really good hit!” Scott soothed, the fight coming to a close as the numbers began to even out, and you let out a deep sigh of relief, clutching as your chest as the weight that lifted off of your shoulders made you think you may actually float away into the sky. You placed a hand onto the alpha’s shoulder, taking deep and steadying breaths, and Stiles clapped a hand on your shoulder. 

“We should have a Beacon Hills baseball team, you can be our star batter!”

Scott laughed at Stiles’ comment, glancing over your shoulder, before the joyful expression on his face dropped and he let out a dull shout as he ducked you out of the way, a final threat as he whipped your body around, stumbling over his feet and holding you close as the two of you fell out of harm’s way and onto the floor.

Another boy who had come with the attacking group had lunged at you both, and you screamed as Stiles was left defenceless, being closed in on by the man with the knife. In a blur of movement, Stiles was pulled out of the way, tackled to the ground as the man on the offensive made to slash at him, and Malia was quick to take the man by the back of the head, walking him in fast motions and slamming his head into the brick wall, his body crumpling in unconsciousness to the floor. 

The fight didn’t last much longer, and you crawled your way toward Stiles, his now human guardian angel laying beside him and clutching at his arm, blood smeared across his fingers as he grunted, and Stiles was staring at him with something between shock and awe. 

“Dude, you just saved my life.”

V let out a deep chuckle, slightly strained and suffering through his pain as he sat up, and you dropped down to your knees, eyes meeting Stiles’ and he sent you a reassuring nod before you were peeling the other boy’s fingers away from his arm, getting a look at the cut on his upper arm. 

His shirt was torn, sliced right through to his skin and while it wasn’t a deep cut, tears still sprung back to your eyes, something between pure joy that they were both alive, and fear for his well-being as he looked down at the injury he had gained. You pushed the jacket from his arms, and he lifted the sleeve of his shirt out of the way, and Lydia dropped down beside you with the first aid kit form the kitchen. 

“No! No, it’s empty! Get the stuff from the second drawer on the kitchen island!” Stiles was moving before she was, and she followed after him, the pair of them bringing enough supplies through for everyone, and your hands were shaking as you tried to open a packet of gauze. Warm hands closed over yours, slight bloodstains smearing across your skin from his. 

“It’s just a scratch.” He whispered, and you nodded, licking over your lips and taking a deep breath, unwrapping the bandaging and laying it across your lap as you picked up a disinfectant wipe or clean the nick on his skin with. 

“Just a scratch? You saved my life!” Stiles was practically exploding with glee and excitement and thankfulness, and you let out a weak chuckle, shaking your head fondly at your best friend, and he placed a friendly kiss to the top of your head before shoving your shoulder in retaliation for you laughing at him.

“Well, what are guardian angels for?” You froze at the words, your jaw gaping as you looked up at the boy you were patching up, and your best friend had much the same reaction, before he was laughing loudly and clapping him on the uninjured shoulder. Seconds later, Stiles was wandering away to help deal with the unconscious and slightly maimed team who had attacked them, Lydia following to start to patch them all up, and you kneeled beside him, admiration twinkling in your eyes as you looked at him. 

“I can’t believe you just made that joke.” You mumbled, and he let a small laugh loose for just you to hear, your fingers wrapping up and sealing the bandage carefully, before you were helping him to his feet. He raised a hand, running his fingers over your cheek delicately, and you tipped your head into his touch. “You saved my friend’s life.”

He shrugged as though it was no big thing, before lowering his hand to sit on your waist, and you gripped the shirt over his waist on your hands, holding him close to you. “It’s what I should have been doing all along. I failed him so many other times, this doesn’t really make up for anything.” You tipped your head to the side, glancing over his shoulder and he turned to look, Stiles standing behind him, scratching at the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Tell that to him. He seems pretty made up to be alive.”

Stiles stuck his tongue out at you as his doppelgänger stared at him with disbelief, unsure of quite what to say, and he looked between you and Stiles as he searched for words. “Stiles, I am so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For failing you?” You slipped your hand into V’s, his fingers immediately flexing around your own for support and you ran the pad of your thumb over his knuckles. “I should have looked after you, and done a better job. I wasn’t good, you deserved a better guardian than I am, and I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.”

“You.. what?” You chuckled, pressing your face into the back of his shoulder and Stiles was a painted picture of amusement, holding a hand out to the man that looked identical to him.

“I forgive you. You saved my life, and you look after my best friend. I forgive you.” Slipping his hand free from yours, his hand met Stiles’, and they shook hands firmly, a peace formed between the two of them, and the silence only lasted a second before V was jolting suddenly. 

With a second jerky movement, he reached up and over his own shoulder clawing at his back as he fell to his knees, and you watched as the muscles in his back shifted, his knees cracking as the hit the floor. Pulling his shirt up over his head until it was tight around his biceps, he fell forwards, a pained scream leaving his lips as you stepped up beside him. Your hand had barely pressed to his heated skin before he was twisting awkwardly, a sickening crunch sounding out and he dropped down, elbows buckling as bone pushed out of the scars on his back, and you held back the urge to vomit as he squirmed in agonising pain, Stiles spinning on his heel, light-headed at the scene before him. 

You choked back the sound you wanted to make, squeezing your eyes shut before taking a knee before him, holding his cheeks and lifting his face to look at you. His eyes were wet with tears, cheeks flushed and you offered him a shaky smile in reassurance. 

“What’s happening to me?”

“I really can’t tell you. I don’t know what’s happening, but I got you, okay?” His eyes squeezed shut, muscle and skin crawling along the bone structures, and you felt your stomach physically twist and churn at the sight. He wheezed, whining out under his breath as you held him carefully. “I got you, okay? I’m here.”

“You’re here.”

“Yeah, honey.” He winced, and you watched the gruesome sight as the freshly woven skin pricked and parted, before a gasp was leaving you, pale stems bursting through before parting in white feathers, and you let out a breathy laugh. Your eyes were wide, jaw slack as you watched beautiful and large, pure white wings appear before your eyes. “Holy shit.”

“What is it?” You were awestruck, watching as they finally grew to completion, his skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, vice hoarse from all his screaming and groaning, and he collapsed down, pulling back onto his knees just enough to slump over onto you.

“I think you just got your wings back.”

“What?” The appendages fluttered in his shock, and you felt this arms snake around your waist in exhaustion, your own arms looping around him, and you ran the edges of your fingers over the soft feathers tentatively, a happy sigh leaving him as you ran your touch over the soft wings. “That feels nice.”

“Your wings feel nice. They’re so soft.”

He chuckled, before it faded out, and he pulled back enough to look at you. The others were filtering into the room, taking in the sight before them, but neither of you paid them any attention, caught up in a bubble together as you stared at one another. 

They all discussed their opinions, Stiles offering the explanation that forgiveness was what he needed, and your heart was beating out of your chest as he flexed and extended the wings around himself, stretching them out and grunting happily, like a muscle being stretched after a long period of laying down, as though a cramp was being relieved, and he looked between them himself, lifting his fingers to brush over the edge of the feathers he could reach, fluttering them a little bit and chuckling happily under his breath.

“Can you tell me how many black feathers there are?”

You stood up, and he did the same, watching as you rounded his back to look, and he gave you a second, before turning on you and taking in your widely smiling face. “There isn’t any?”

“No black feathers?”

“All pure as snow!” You beamed, and he took your face in his hands, pulling you closer and pressing his lips to your forehead. The kiss lingered, long and sweet and your eyes closed as you leaned into it. Raising your head, you bumped the tip of your nose against his, and a throat being cleared loudly caught your attention, your cheeks heating up as you snapped away from one another.

Derek looked at you both, slightly beaten up but rapidly healing, and he offered an apologetic look, shrugging his shoulders and rubbing his hands together as everyone turned to look at him.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but it's no time to relax just yet. That was just the beginning, our threat isn’t over yet, and we need to be ready.”

[kyberphilosopher]

𝐀𝐤𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚

The both of them were searching for someone whose demons would mirror their own.

Word Count: 5489

a·kra·sia/əˈkrāZH(ē)ə/ noun

“akrasia: the state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgment through weakness of will.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi had always been far too versed in the light side of the force for your taste. It was annoying, to say the least. The way the Jedi walked around like they’re better than everybody else, and then denying it. The narrow minded point of view. The ridiculous robes. It was all very exhausting to deal with. 

The Jedi Order had no recollection of you. There was nothing to suggest you had ever been a part of them, or even ever fallen under the power of the Republic. Therefor, nobody knew where you came from. 

Anakin and Master Kenobi simply encountered you one day as a General for the Separatist forces. You were also a Sith of some kind- they weren’t sure on the details. The very first fight ended with you nearly killing Anakin, Obi-Wan having to bandage his knee, and you receiving a scar from your left collarbone to your shoulder. Another time, you and Kenobi went head to head. You would’ve killed him, had Anakin not intervened. 

So, Anakin didn’t like you very much. Fine with you. 

The real prize was Obi-Wan. 

As stated above, Kenobi was far too attached to the light for your liking. As far as you could tell, the man wasn’t tempted by the darkness in the slightest. This fact baffled you. You had seen what Kenobi’s life would be like if he became a Sith. He would’ve been far powerful than many of his fellow Jedi. You would've even been willing to venture that his skills would come close to your own! But, the man was inexplicably, irrationally, and annoyingly selfless. 

Similarly, Obi-Wan had taken note of your own fatuous traits. 

Obi-Wan, through all his goodness, had never thought you to be selfish. There were times where he saw you make selfish decisions, or act selfishly- but you were not selfish by nature. Obi-Wan knew, somewhere deep down, that you felt guilt at your bad deeds. Unfortunately, that distant guilt was not enough to stop you from being ruthless and cunning in battle. And for that, Obi-Wan felt that he had somehow failed you, even though he didn’t know anything about your previous life. 

So, if Obi-Wan had to describe you, it could be summed up in a few words. Lethal. Intelligent. Devious. Unnerving. Powerful. Dealing with you was something that Obi-Wan never looked forward to, unlike Anakin, who was secretly rooting for it.

 However, despite all your flaws, Kenobi shared something incredibly disturbing with you.

You were the one that had started it. The night of your first encounter, you couldn’t stop thinking about the man. He was just so... good. The way he fought used the third form of lightsaber combat- the one that focused more on defense than offense. So he wasn’t aiming to kill you, and he probably never would be. Baffling. You could sense that he wasn’t excessively good with the use of the force, but well enough. Kenobi was in no way attracted to power or stepping on others. This, in it’s entirety, is what made you decide to try a bit of psychological warfare. 

You appeared to him in the night. Projecting yourself across the galaxy, across the moon and the stars, you let him see you. He couldn’t see where you were or where you were going to be, only you. Dressed in black robes and your hair tied back casually, you wore the little scratch Kenobi had given your cheek with pride. 

While you were proud of this feat, Kenobi was caught off guard. He had just finished a conversation with Anakin about the young man was seriously skirting the line with the council, ending in Anakin walking away with thin lips. Obi-Wan sighed, glancing at the ground and leaning against the wall in deep thought. 

He couldn’t explain what happened next. One blink, and it was the other half of the archive room. The walls glowed blue with technology and magic. The floor was a clean and sterile white. But then, it wasn’t. It wasn’t even really the archive room anymore. In the next blink, Kenobi was looking at the other half of a gray, blockish room. It reminded him very much of a Venator, especially with the giant window that gave a view of the trillions of stars against the ink black heavens. 

And, of course, you were there in the middle. 

Obi-Wan perked up in shock. His blue eyes widened, his shoulder coming off the wall as his lips parted. You stayed still, your hands clasped behind your back as a smirk danced across the corners of your mouth. 

“Hello, my dear Obi-Wan,” you greeted slyly. “What’s the matter? Did you miss me already?”

Obi-Wan took only a second to understand the situation. He wasn’t sure how you were doing this, or a certainty as to why. Still, he was a smart man, and he saw that if this was how the night would go, then so be it. 

“Oh, of course,” he answered with equal tone. His own lips were curling up into a smile, the way they did when Ventress tried to pull dialogue like this with him. The only difference was that he truly preferred you doing this instead of her. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten about me.”

“How could I forget the man with such a clean technique?” you quipped back. Your right hand raised up to gesture at the dark red injury on your face. 

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow smugly. The retort he had thought of was not even a true one, but he knew how this banter would go. “I suppose any technique would appear clean to you, Y/N.”

Yes. There it was. That little twitch in your lips that revealed the Jedi had struck a nerve. “Oh, and here I was believing Ventress when she told me you were a gentleman.”

“Did she? Why don’t you tell me where she’s going to be next so I can talk to her about it myself?”

“Does it matter?” you questioned. Step one of throwing him off was complete. Now it was time for step two- sowing doubts. “You’ve already lost the war. You’re going to lose the battle, too.”

“That’s bold talk from you,” Obi-Wan challenged. 

“I’d call it truthful gossip,” you mused. “And in case you’d forgotten, I almost killed your precious padawan today.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help but take a sharp, defensive step forward. “Anakin is more than capable of holding his own.”

“But you care about him,” you ventured. Your grin was becoming more and more poisonous as you began to waltz around the area. You knew exactly what you were doing, and Obi-Wan knew that. “What’s going to happen when you’re forced to kill him? Ah, I can only wonder.”

Kenobi was at a loss for words. His eyes were flitting back and forth between your own, trying to make sense of your statements. Were you lying to him? Was this part of the obvious ploy to upset him? If so, it was working. He cared for Anakin. He couldn’t imagine harming the man he called his brother. 

“Oh, how I wonder,” you smirked finally. Then you turned away from Obi-Wan, and he was left alone in the Archive room again, as if you were never even there. 

                                    ◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The next time you had come to him, things ended differently. 

It was days before your third encounter, and your second fight. The last time you’d seen him, he’d only caught a glimpse of you smirking before disappearing into the depths of the ship and most likely the escape pods. But this time, Kenobi and Cody had hatched a brilliant plan to intercept you outside Christophsis. During the battle to attempt to slow your troops, Anakin and Obi-Wan would infiltrate your ship and attempt to subdue you. There was no way you could reach the escape pods this time- a new confrontation was inevitable. 

While Obi-Wan leaned over the holotable, studying the battle plans and maps, he stroked his beard thoughtfully. His blue eyes glinted in the glow of the room, sparkling like two little planets. Even you had to admit, the General had a beautiful, analytical brain that everyone could take a few lessons from. This only spurred you on more in your endeavor to ruin him, however. 

“What’re you looking at?” you mused. 

Obi-Wan stiffened upright, focusing on your voice. He knew you hadn’t somehow sneaked your way onto the ship at least, which left the second most likely scenario more realistic. 

“I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure that out,” he said. Obi-Wan turned around, careful to leave one hand looming over the button that turned the table back to simple planets. In a swirl, the maps and plans were gone, replaced with artificial stars and systems projected into the air. The ocean light of the room fell over your features faintly, which confused the Jedi for a second. The only colors he had ever seen as shadows with you were the deep red from your lightsabers. Usually, they were so angry and stark that you looked menacing. 

Make no mistake- you were menacing. Obi-Wan would never be foolish enough to think that you weren’t. But in the sapphire light, you reminded him of a Jedi. You looked- dare he say it?- pretty. Softer. Is that what you could’ve been at one point? A Jedi? Soft, and pretty?

“You flatter me,” you purred as you dipped your head. “I almost really believed you weren’t a gentleman.” You gave Obi-Wan the moment to respond, but he did not take the possibility. In fact, you could see that he was clearly raking his eyes over your face in search of some kind of answer. Perhaps you should do the same.

“Tell me,” you continued. “How does the gentleman intend to capture the lady tomorrow?” 

You took note of the faint wrinkles under his eyes. They weren’t from age or ailment, but lack of sleep and too much experience. There were few marks on his face, but still noticeable. No, they didn’t make him appear unattractive or undesirable, but instead gave him a sort of character. Did he have scars along his body? Was there ever a foe who marked him forever? Sure, you had scratched the Jedi with your lightsaber not too long ago, but it was nothing that wouldn’t eventually fade. Even then, it wasn’t like he hadn’t done the same to you. Your cheek was still streaked with a thin, pink gash that had begun to heal as a part of your flesh from what Kenobi had done to you. 

“Perhaps the gentleman would rather avoid conflict all together?” Kenobi mused. Ever the polite one, this man. “Perhaps you could turn yourself in now and save yourself the troops?”

You scoffed audibly. It was close to a laugh, but not quite. Did Sith’s laugh? “You are easily mistaken if you believe I care for the lives of a few clankers.”

“Clankers? Spending some time with the Clones, are we?”

“I’ve had enough of them in my detention cells to know what kind of language they use,” you said with a promise. In truth, you had captured a few Clone troopers, but that wasn’t how you had picked up the term ‘clanker’. You had gathered it after hearing some Clone describe it while listening in on transmissions. Finding it catchy and somewhat clever, you adopted it yourself. 

“Is that something you enjoy?” Obi-Wan quizzed. He took a step forward, his hands coming together with bent arms to hide each other in the length of his sleeves. 

No, actually. It wasn’t. You’d never cared much for torture. Sure, you had used it when you had to, but it had never been your first resort. You had no explanation for this. It just didn’t seem high up on your priorities list. 

“Now, who doesn’t love a good torture chamber?” you quipped. 

Unfortunately for you, it was too late for that kind of response. Obi-Wan had somehow seen the fault in your face. Maybe he saw your brow twitch, or your eyes dull, or your throat catch- you couldn’t say. But he had seen it. 

Obi-Wan nodded once, his lips still upturned at the stimulation from the interaction. “I don’t believe you.”

You weren’t sure where to go now. Your cocky and sarcastic features were beginning to fade away, replaced with a slow and diminishing frown. 

“Give up this fight,” Kenobi ventured. “If you turn yourself in now, you’ll avoid bloodshed. We both know that’s what you want.”

You swallowed dryly. Did you want that? To avoid bloodshed? You hadn’t minded it in the past, but there were times when you found enough of it distasteful. Could tomorrow’s battle be one of those times? 

“A Sith does not negotiate with the weak,” you finally answered. Once more, your face hardened back to it’s original expression. Menacing. 

Obi-Wan wondered if he should’ve said the next words. He played them over in his mind several times in the next second, before finally deciding on giving them a try. “Then perhaps, you are not a Sith.”

Your eyes widened at the statement. It struck a million things inside of you- anger, frustration, wonder, longing, embarrassment, astonishment, fear- everything. Your lungs tightened so much in your chest, they felt sore. From the sheer impact of Kenobi’s words, you took a step back defensively. 

Then you disappeared again. 

Obi-Wan stumbled backwards, hand reaching to clutch his heart. A dull headache had immediately begun forming in his temples, thrumming around like a growing drill. His lungs felt like they had had all the air kicked from them. His right cheek stung in the shape of a straight, thin line. Struggling to catch his breath, the Jedi reached his free hand back to grip onto the edge of the holotable for support. 

Mirroring the man, you jolted back as his form vanished. Your feet slipped from under you, and one of your knees was now angrily demanding your attention. Your bottom hit the floor flatly as your chest heaved up and down, gasping for the breath you had somehow lost. A bead of sweat had singularly formed on the side of your face in something like terror and shock. 

Neither you, nor Obi-Wan could explain this. 

                                   ◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

By the third... ‘projection’ between you and Obi-Wan, you had met eachother on the battlefield six times, and Anakin five. The scar Kenobi had given you from your first encounter had softened significantly. Even so, it would remain forever. As much as you hated it, you had spent several nights awake thinking of how it was like a kind of mark he had made on you. Not quite something that ‘claimed’ you, per say, but a type of signature. A permanent autograph or stain that was made by the person who bothered you the most. 

Ventress, who was probably the closest thing you had to a friend, had told you it was awfully seductive in her overly sweet voice. While her hand caressed your cheekbone, the heaviness of your heart only briefly softened before falling back. 

But the third projection was different. You were not the one who initiated it. In fact, after your second meeting, you were perfectly happy to never interact with Kenobi again, unless you were fighting. During those combative moments, you could put your deep thoughts aside in order to accomplish your mission. 

But this time was not a combative moment. And yet, you were having some trouble accomplishing your mission. 

“Go on,” your master commanded in his low voice. “Execute the younglings.” 

Your lightsabers were in your hands, crossed over each other. When you would pull them apart, the sabers would slice out, and heads would roll. That’s what was bothering you. The heads reminded you very much of your young nephew, who had turned six not too long ago. 

You couldn’t remember why you had to do this. All you could remember was that Count Dooku was telling you to do it, and his patience would not last forever. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to kill younglings. They hadn’t done anything wrong, and they had no place in the war. 

And thus, this was why you were hesitating. Every time you thought you had the surge of energy to do the deed, your heart pounded so hard your arms stayed stiff. 

“Is it really so hard?” Count Dooku said tautly. His eyes narrowed in disappointment at you, frown deepening. 

And then, Kenobi’s voice called out to you. Like an angel, or a kind of conscious, you could see him so clearly in front of you, it was like you were actually speaking to him. 

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows were furrowed together in concern as he looked you up and down. He could see your stance, and the force surrounding you so intensely. He could analyze the sweat forming, your heart rate that matched his own. Your expression was laced with anguish and conflict, and he just knew you were about to do something you didn’t want to do. Obi-Wan understood that you were about to kill.

“Where are you?” he asked. 

You couldn’t answer. You would’ve looked like you were talking to yourself, and how horrible would that have been in front of Master Dooku? Instead, you only open and closed your chapped lips softly. Your eyebrows twitched. 

“What are you waiting for?” Dooku boomed at you. 

Obi-Wan leaned back and widened his eyes at the recognition of the voice. “Y/N, whatever you’re about to do, don’t.”

“If you’re unable to do this, my young apprentice, I will have to find someone more suitable.”

You squeezed your eyes tight. 

“Don’t!” Obi-Wan called. 

You didn’t stop yourself. You so desperately wanted to. But you didn’t. 

Your arms sliced apart. The searing hum buzzed through the air crisply, followed by multiple thumps against the ground. 

“Very good,” your master praised coolly from behind you. Even with your eyes shut tight, you could tell he had a cold smirk of relief resting on his face. “Meet me back at my ship.”

You opened your eyes slowly. Your skin felt sticky with sweat, and every muscle in your body was tightened up. Your shoulders and neck felt sore, and even your eyelashes felt heavy. The familiar weight of guilt sunk into your stomach so much more solid than ever before. Maybe it was because you had just committed something so terrible in front of one of the most noble people in the galaxy. Maybe it was just the sheer and straight anxiety that came with doing something you knew was against your better judgement. 

Obi-Wan looked at you silently. He knew what you had done. He knew the irreversible, evil and disproportionate thing that you had done. 

But now, he also knew that you needed help. You looked at him with pure fear and shame, and he could see how vulnerable and inhumanly human you were. He could tell, for a fact, that you would never be a real Sith. Did you have fear? Anger? Hate? Were you suffering? Yes. But you were not evil. Obi-Wan might’ve even dared to say that you were incapable of being so. 

You tore yourself away when Count Dooku called your name from the ship. Eyes darting between his blue orbs. The first step you took away from him, you evaporated into thin air, and Obi-Wan was alone in his ship once more. 

                                   ◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

The fourth time was the one that changed everything. 

You had only faced Obi-Wan and Anakin one time since he saw you kill the younglings, and unfortunately, Obi-Wan had also noticed you had a split second to kill him during the fight. Obviously, you hadn’t taken it. 

Your hands balled and unballed themselves against your knees. Palms sweaty, your whole abdomen had begun feeling like shaky jelly. Ever since the day with the younglings, you had begun to lose weight. You felt weaker, even though the darkness inside of you told you to feel so good. The circles under your eyes had darkened and deepened, and several lines had appeared on your face to make you look far more detached. 

You look unhealthy and unhinged, to be frank. 

Luckily, Ventress was there to tell you you still appeared inherently ‘handsome’. 

Your lungs pierced themselves and screamed with every breath. 

A hand reached out to touch your own, your left. 

You only allowed yourself a few moments to look it over. You observed the veins through it, the strength and width. It was a man’s, and a rather wise man’s at that. You could see little divots and callouses from work with a lightsaber, and clean nails that showed the owner had no time to bite at them anxiously. Despite how much you hated touching, you felt yourself sinking into the simple touch from the hand. It was, to be direct, the most comforting thing that had ever happened to you. 

Still, you gripped a hold of your heart, and shot your hand away. Your head raised to meet the owners eyes. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi, though you hated to admit it, had the eyes that you found yourself looking for often. Whether it was to avoid him, or find a comfort deep down, you did it. They were dapper and blue and deep, and changed in the shades of the sunlight. In contrast to his strawberry blonde hair, they shown and glimmered like an ocean. 

Obi-Wan felt the same about your own. Your eyes were conflicted and obviously conveyed several emotions, but also held a history that captivated him. He felt that they deserved everyone’s captivation. He wanted to study them like he would an ancient story, and memorize every changing detail within them. Even with the tired darkness underneath, he felt that they were uniquely beautiful in their own way. 

“Why are you here?” you seethed lowly. 

Obi-Wan glanced down, and then back up honestly. “I heard you calling out.” Before you could scoff, Obi-Wan quickly added, “I felt it.” 

You shook your head. “I wasn’t calling out. I would never call out for you.”

The man swallowed, determining the best approach. “I know that you are angry, but I’m here to help you.”

Kenobi’s tone was sincere, but you wouldn’t- couldn’t- believe it. “Help me?” you scoff. “I don’t need help.”

The Jedi tilted his head at you, looking deeply into your eyes. His orbs were piercing and infinite, it seemed. “You know that’s not true.”

At that, your anger washed away. A frown came down over you. Your eyebrows knitted themselves together in pain. Your eyes became rimmed with simultaneously hot and cold tears. Cheeks grew pink enough to totally disguise Obi-Wan’s signature. 

The way he was looking at you was just so intimate and understanding. Never, not in your whole life, had somebody done this. It seemed, in fact, that Kenobi could see right through you. He could feel you. He could feel your heart, your ribs, your tendons, and your pain. He could feel the soreness in your muscles, how tired your head felt. He wanted, more than anything, for you to have a rest. The Dark Side had done everything it was ever going to do for you. You didn’t need this weight any longer. Obi-Wan wanted to know how you would look when you laughed. 

Your head hung down as your first sob came out. Your fists balled even tighter together, both returning to your knees. 

Feeling his respect for you, mixed with your sadness, Obi-Wan reached his hand out again. His palm ran over your right fist for the second time, and this time you did not rip away. Instead, your own fingers unraveled and relaxed. The Jedi ran his thumb over your angry knuckles and your cunning fingers, silently keeping you close, even though you were far, far away. 

                                   ◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

You did not see Obi-Wan in projections again. 

Some weeks later, you had however, seen him in his entirety. 

Your ship was on fire. Some stupid clanker had miscalculated and allowed your fleet to settle right into General Skywalker’s attack. With every jolt, you stumbled and struggled to maintain balance. Your internal conflict had been continuing to cause you to lose weight in the worst way, and it had recently gotten hard enough to keep yourself upright. 

Finally reaching the hanger, you heaved in exertion. Somewhere, Obi-Wan was outside, either flying around or searching for you aboard. You found, to your nightmare, you had missed him terribly in this exact moment. 

The igniting hum of a lightsaber made you raise your brows. In the middle of the hanger, with sparks falling from above, was that young Togruta girl. The Skywalker padawan. What was her name again? Aheka? Aurora? Ahsoka? Yeah, Ahsoka. 

She glares at you angrily. Her face is scrunched in determination, something that reminds you so much of Anakin himself. Both her sabers were at the ready, and her stance was that of one about to pounce. 

Yes, Ahsoka was trained by someone powerful. This, however, did not mean that she was a match for you. If you fought this one without restraint, you would undoubtedly kill her. You did not want to do that. 

“Hello, General,” she taunted. Definitely Anakin’s padawan. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Despite your exhaustion and the sharp pain in your ribs, you answered her sincerely. “Please,” you called out. “Please, move aside. I don’t want to fight you.”

Ahsoka’s eyes narrow at you. “You’re under custody of the Galactic Republic now. If you won’t fight, you’ll be detained.”

You shook your head, exhausted and defeated. “I can’t go with you. I won’t fight you, but I won’t go with you.”

Darkly, the Togruta replied to you. “Then I will make you.”

She launched forward from the balls of her feet. In a flash, you managed to take out one of your sabers and switch it on. The red clashed against the green in defense, making you lean back before pushing forward. 

No. You would not kill Ahsoka Tano. 

You are very strict about playing offense in the next minute. The only time you ever actually strike the young one is when your blades catch each other.

Not so far away, a voice yells, “Snips!” 

Ahsoka Tano looks at her master. You identify Anakin quickly enough, and seize the opportunity. Your leg snaps up against the Togruta’s stomach. She crumples on herself with a gasp, and you push her to the ground before moving past her. 

As you sprint as fast as you can, you can hear Skywalker scream, “Ahsoka!”

You move down the hallway as fast as you can. You have to get to the escape pods. The hanger is no longer an option. Either that, or find Obi-Wan. 

                                   ◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

It doesn’t take you long to find him. You stand at the opposing side of the bridge, your breathing rapid as your headache tortures your temples. There was so much pain inside of you, falling off your robes and your skin like steam. You just wanted this all to end. You wanted to be free. At this point, you didn’t care if it was from the Dark Side, or the Light Side. 

And Obi-Wan knew that. 

As he finished analyzing you to make sure that, no, you wouldn’t hurt him, he took a tentative step forward. 

You looked terrible. Kenobi wanted to fix that. 

“Y/N,” he called calmly. “I am here to help you.”

You nodded your head, suddenly feeling very hot. “I know,” you confess. Your lip quivers under the weight of everything- the pain, the anger, the frustration, the conflict, the admiration for Kenobi. He looked so handsome now, even with the ever growing danger surrounding the both of you. “I need help,” you admit, voice breaking. “P-please help me.”

Obi-Wan walked quickly to you, sensing your weakness. He knew that at any moment, you were going to collapse both outside and in. Your turmoil had bubbled over, your Akrasia breaking whatever spirit you had left. He knew that you were too tired to feel darkness now. You had nothing left to fear, anger, hate, or suffer over. 

“Obi-Wan,” you said shakily. Your hands came up to rub your arms as if you were cold. “I love you.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi knew how selfish it was to replay the words over in his head at the moment. He just couldn’t help it. 

You had always been radiating. You had always been strong and worthy of admiration. When you struggled with your guilt, you struggled with your deeds, and that gave Obi-Wan hope. You had restored his faith all on your own, and he had already known that it was worthy of being expelled from the Order. But this was you. This was the woman he had grown to care for, like a mold to fit into, and had come to understand. The Jedi felt hungry for that. He felt hungry to know you. To analyze you. To help you. 

“I know,” the man said, sincerely and slowly. Against his better judgement, and the rocking of the falling ship, his right hand reached out to cup your face. Your skin was warm. Slightly sticky from the sweat, but Obi-Wan didn’t mind. “I know.”

His other hand opened up. His calloused and strong palm revealed itself to you, drawing your attention, and reminding you of the night that he had held your own inside. “Y/N, I need to know if you will follow me.” Obi-Wan paused, looking into your eyes. This was his confession. His begging, his pleading, his longing, was a confession for the love he felt for you. “I need you to come with me. You must leave this behind.” Then Obi-Wan swallowed. “Come with me. Please.”

The both of you were betraying your Orders. 

Your right hand came to meet his. Palms against palms, skin against skin, you connected. You could feel Obi-Wan’s need and frustration, and he could feel your longing and fear. 

“Yes,” you said, tiredly. “Yes. I’ll go with you.”

And, in that moment, you could see a life with Obi-Wan. 

He would not leave the Jedi. You knew that for sure. But you would go back to Scarif, where you were born. On a shore, near the crystal blue waters, Obi-Wan would build you a house. He could visit when he had the time, holding you in your sleep to protect you from the oncoming nightmares, and you could kiss the scars on his back. Every time he would leave, your heart would break, but he would always bring you something small to apologize. Perhaps you could start to draw again? Obi-Wan would’ve loved to draw with you. He could teach you how to meditate, and clear your thoughts. Somewhere deep in the ground, you’d bury your lightsabers and never touch them again. On top of that ground, Obi-Wan would hold your form tightly as his skin moved against your own. Everything would be like a song, and maybe one day, you could give him a new verse. You could give him a child. You could have peace. Not fake peace, but real peace. The kind of peace that follows the storm, and lingers til the end of your days. 

A choke escapes your throat. 

You feel your lungs quiver in weakness, then refuse to allow any more air in. Obi-Wan watches your face change from sorrowful, to shocked. Your mouth agape, eyes wide, you suddenly go very, very pale. He feels you still yourself upright, and he tells himself the blue blade in your chest isn’t real. 

Anakin pulls the lightsaber out of you. Your pupils dilate as the blood begins to drip from your nose thinly. You can’t think, you can’t even move. You cripple to the ground without choice. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi keeps you close to him as you die. He has nothing to say to either Anakin or yourself, and he knows there is nothing he can do to heal you. He watches you watch him, your vision fading in and out as you try to memorize every detail of Kenobi’s face for the last time. Your vision of a life with him becomes nothing more than a distant memory and a sad dream, and you don’t know when it ended. 

                                   ◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

Obi-Wan burned and buried you in secret. 

The Jedi had loved you, and he had known you enough to see that you deserved respect. You were not to be shipped off into the ground like any old Sith. You were to be cared for, and cradled until the end. Even in death, he wanted to help you.

And perhaps, simply that statement alone, was his greatest form of Akrasia. 

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*

Taglist: @omg-we-really-doo @chokemeanakin​ @typicalfanlife​

This is the version that was requested. Please let me know how you feel and if you noticed any errors! I wrote this while I was very tired, and I may want to tweak some things. 

[starwarsaddiction]

Learning the Force

First night in Corusant

You can read it here too. 

The cerimony of Obi-Wan Knighthood and the first night on Corusant, for the first time after Qui-Gon Jinn death.

Naboo, after Qui-Gon Jinn funeral, in a secluded chamber, with the High Council and Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“You have passed all the trials, fighting with the Sith that killed your master, Obi-Wan.” said Mace, the small ritual knife in hand, watching him and with a hand on his shoulder. All the council had seen the recordings from the security cams more times, watching the duel from the start to its painful end, and asked so many details to Obi-Wan that he had to review the memory as much as he could bare. It was just because he could feel the warmth of their affection and comprehension that he could stand the questions and the rewatching, and he knew that they were terrified as he was, knowing that the Sith were back, even if one was already defeated. A fearful legend came out of the darkness and became a terrifying reality, the day he killed the Sith Lord, and the life of Qui-Gon Jinn was a great loss for all of them, even if he didn't always agree with the High Council. He was a friend and an honored master for many of them, anyway. “You're the first jedi to kill a sith, and he did kill your master before your very eyes, but that's not the only consideration we've made. You kept your mind calm and focused, even in the face of the grief and the anger for Master Qui-Gon death. And when that Sith was in a position of advantage, you were able to collect yourself and find the opportunity to overcome him, reaching into the force, without letting your pain and anger to strain you from the battle. You never let your emotions to guide your actions, never let them lead you to the dark side, and this is the reason we all decided that you're eligible to become a Jedi Knight. This duel will be remembered and will become subject of study for the next generations of jedi, I believe. So no other trials are required to knight you.” Obi-Wan nodded, breathing slowly. The pain in his heart was so deep that he feared he could cry, but he almost could hear his master saying “calm down, focus on the present, feel the force” in his ear. Yoda approached Mace, before he cut the braid, and with a gesture asked for the ritual knife. “To me the dagger give, please...” He said to Mace. “The braid by the master must be cut. Qui-Gon we lost, and his master too... but his master I trained, so your braid I'll be the one to cut, young Obi-Wan.” That was too much for Obi-Wan self control. He kneeled down, to put himself at the same height of Master Yoda, but he couldn't hide his tears anymore. He bow down, let the tears stream his face, and it took a while before he was able to look the old master in the face. He felt his tiny hand on his shoulder, giving a light caress, and his old face was warmly smiling, when Obi-Wan could finally focus on the Grand Master of the Jedi Order. Obi-Wan didn't look around, but he could feel in the Force how many other masters around him were feeling the same grief, and if he had watched, he could have seen many of them whipe tears from their faces. He bowed to Yoda, and he cut the braid, keeping it in his small hand. “Welcome to the Jedi Order, Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi.” said, putting the braid in the hand of Obi-Wan. “Rise, please. May the Force be with you, always.”

Anakin was not allowed to the ceremony, because he wasn't still accepted in the Jedi Order, and he waited for him in their room, feeling small and a bit lost, until he was called to be finally welcomed in the Order. His hair was cut and a little braid was made behind his ear. He wore for the first time the clothes that were distinctive of his new found status of padawan apprentice, and finally joined Obi-Wan again, just before the great ceremony for the victory against the Separatists in the central street of Theed, on Naboo. “They cut your braid. Obi-Wan...” “Yes... I'm no longer a padawan. I couldn't be anymore, I'm your Master, now.” he smiled. Anakin felt his sadness, he could have told how sad he was even if they weren't both force sensitive. His eyes were still sad and weary, as if he had just cried his eyes out, and his smile surely was not as wide as the first time they met. Anakin feared that Obi-Wan could blame him for his master death and the weight of taking him as padawan, but all he could feel from Obi-Wan was his warmth and gentleness. There was something deeply reassuring in his face, and Anakin could only hope that they would discover each other and became at least friends, soon enough. But they had no time to talk properly until they finally went to Corusant, the great capital of the Galactic Republic, and home of the Jedi Order.

Corusant, Jedi Temple.

The Temple never felt so huge and empty, thought Obi-Wan, stepping in the great entrance for the first time after the return from Naboo. He had a small quarter of his own, and Qui-Gon Jinn apartment was already emptied and reassigned, so he asked, before arriving, to have another apartment, bigger and with another bedroom, to live in with Anakin. Obi-Wan surely didn't want to leave the boy in the dormitory, alone with all the other kids, that could only be a bunch of curious strangers, to him. He could feel clearly the kid's fear for all the new things to come and even if he didn't feel the loss of Qui-Gon as strongly and deeply hurting as it was for Obi-Wan, he was surely stunned by the fast events that occurred in such few days. The first evening, they found themselves in this new quarter, a small kitchen and living room, and two twin bedrooms. The bed in Anakin's room was softer and bigger than he ever had, but the whole place felt cold and faceless, to the boy. “It's all new, Anakin... we'll start from here, and it'll become cozier, I promise.” Obi-Wan said, taking all the blankets he could find in his arms and sorting them in two piles. He took the bigger one and brought it in Anakin's room, preparing the bed. “It's winter here on Coruscant, and I figure you could be cold, at night. if you need more blankets, just ask, we'll have them brought by service droids, in any moment, even during the night.” He went on explaining the heating system and all the equipement that he thought Anakin hadn't in his Tatooine home, trying to make him feel welcomed and safe, he ordered something to eat from the communal kitchen and they had a small dinner in the kitchen, trying to get used to each other. The boy followed him silently, nodding, not daring to interrupt him, fearing to be of nuisance. After dinner they cleaned together, but Obi-Wan felt his hesitation, and stopped. “Don't worry, if there is something you want to know, or to say, anything, you just tell me, ok?” Anakin hesitated, shifting on his feets. “Are you... happy that I'm here...” said, but he bit his lips, knowing they were the wrong words, but unable to find the right ones. “well, maybe not happy... but do you...” he stopped, biting his lower lip. Obi- Wan sat down, and patted the couch beside him to invite Anakin to sit down as well. He breathed deeply before answering. “I would never imagine all of this, surely... but I have always thought about becoming a Knight and taking a Padawan myself, as my master before me. I was preparing for the trials, Qui-Gon was sure I was ready... It was a fast change, and yes, Anakin, I'm scared and surprised too.” he smiled, taking the kids hands in his. Anakin's were cold and small, and he held them between his, warming them. “But I'm happy that I can share all the things that Qui-Gon has taught me with you. He was an incredible master, and I hope I'll be able to be a good master for you. I know that we don't know each other, but we will learn. You'll learn from me and I from you. Don't be scared, we're here together.” “How do you know how I feel? How seems that everybody knows how I feel?” Asked Anakin, wording his discomfort for being so easily readable for the first time in his life. “Because we're jedi, like you. We've learned to see through each other. Try, you can too. Look at me.” he smiled to the kid, “look into my eyes... and breathe with me. Feel my hands, and feel the Force. It's like... a deep sensation in your belly. It's like a door opening to a larger hall, a presence wider than you. I'm there, in that open space that is the Force itself. Just let it flow through you, like your breath.” he said, in a voice that became calmer and slower, while everything around them became far and silent. Anakin obeyed, synchronizing his breath with Obi-Wan, focusing on his face, his eyes bright and gentle, his voice so soothing and calm. He let his breath become slower, his mind calmed down and the familiar sense of the surrounding that had always filled his conscience became less cluttered, less noisy, cleared for the fist time, and in his physical sensation he finally felt the sensation that Obi-Wan mentioned. It was like a switch, something opened in his body, and something larger made his way in his belly. He could feel the presence of Obi-Wan in a way he never felt anyone else, it was not only in front of him, he was inside him, a presence in his mind. He could sense the feelings of the man in front of him, the grief for his master deep down, the doubts for their future, but all this was just a small part of Obi-Wan, like details in a greater landscape. He felt a great calm, and compassion, and a sense of affection that reminded him of his mother, Shmi, far away on Tatooine. Obi-Wan was way more centered and collected that Anakin, and even if his emotion were similar to his own, he felt something that made him desire even more to become a Jedi. It was like being in the presence of a powerful yet loving being, he could feel the power of the Force running through him, it was like the great strength of a sand tempest, but it wasn't even remotely scary or deadly. It was gentle, compassionate, guided by a strong will and a desire to help, and the ability to do it without harm. And behind his human presence, there was the presence of a greater being, and he understood that it was the Force itself. Obi-Wan opened himself and let Anakin look through him and into the Force, like a door to a brighter light, and Anakin finally found a similar door inside himself, a connection to the Force. It was sentient, compassionate, benevolent and enormous. It talked with a soft voice, and another voice inside Anakin joined it like they wer singing in a choir as wide as the galaxy itself, so wide that left Anakin almost overwhelmed, and it was just because he was still watching the kind face of his new master that he didn't loose himself in that vast energy and could come back to that room, that couch, the feeling of his big, warm hands around his own, small but finally warm hands. This was the first real lesson that he ever received in the Temple, the first time he learned to willingly find the Force in himself, and Anakin never forgot that feeling, and his master force signature was deeply inscripted that time and forever in his mind, so strongly that he could recognize him everywhere. That first time forged their connection so that from that moment on, Anakin could find Obi-Wan anywhere in the temple, without any comlink, he just knew where to find him. For the rest of his life, even when Obi-Wan was unaware of this, he could sense his master further than it was usual for padawans, and he never forgot that sensation. He looked into the heart of Obi-Wan and thought “this is a man I can follow, this is a man I can call my master.”

Years after, The Death Star.

Even when he was encaged in his armor and crippled, a small part of Anakin remembered the warm, loving and calm presence that Obi-Wan was in his mind, from that time in their first shared apartment, to the day that he sensed him on the Death Star, for the last time. It was only when he cut through his cloak, only to watch him disappear into thin air, that the presence of Obi-Wan Kenobi was completely erased from his conscience, and he felt ever more alone than his entire life

[missdawnandherdusk]

The Lion and The Lamb

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One    Part Two    Part Three    Part Four     

Part Five    Part Six    Part Seven

Summary: Now that you two had to face other people and interact, knowing what happened... can the two of you do it? And how will it work even if it does? 

A/n: This part is SO CUTE and I love it. I hope you guys know that this is far from over... I was serious when I said that I would rewrite the entirety of the series. I hope you guys are staying safe and stay tuned I have big plans for our confused lovers. Let me know what you think! ((Also, guys, please sleep and do your school work--don’t make me mother you))

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @ilikestuffproductions @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg​ @queenfeatherwings​ @fanficflaneuse​ @go-whovian-universe​ @spicyshenanigans​

I woke the next morning, still by the window, a letter on my lap and Penelope nowhere in sight. There was a familiar green seal on the parchment.

A fresh layer of snow covered the grounds of Hogwarts, it was almost enchanting. Stretching, I took my blanket and the letter and sat on my bed. Hermione was absent from her bed. I could only assume that she had gone down to breakfast.

Opening the letter, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and blinked through reading it.

~

Y/n,

You should be asleep, not writing to me. Ask Madam Pomfrey for sleeping potion if this continues.

I can only imagine that you are talking about how the antidote made us feel and then how we feel about another. I understand what you mean—and when have I ever made fun of you? We should look into it. I can ask Snape. He might know.

I know you’re scared, but you’re also a Gryffindor, courage runs in your veins. Don’t forget that no matter what happens. You are strong and stubborn and a real pain in the ass sometimes and now isn’t a time to just throw that to the wind. They hit, you hit back harder like you always have—at least with me anyway.

I wrote to your mother already. She’s right you do worry too much. 

Yours too,

Draco,

~

I smiled at the letter and folded it, tucking it under my pillow with the others that I had from him as well as the one I had from my mother. I would have to find a safer spot for them soon. Maybe I could jinx a box or something...

Knowing it would be colder today, I threw on an extra sweater over my uniform and grabbed my scarf that had been retired for the summer and fall until now. Sometimes I missed living in a warmer climate all year round when the coldest it got was maybe freezing.

Not thinking about much other than getting to the Great Hall on one piece—and Draco’s advice about living up to Gryffindor courage— I hardly noticed that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all waiting for me in the Common Room. My eyes met Hermione’s as I silently questioned her about what was going on. A few straggling students quickly scurried away as they watched the scene unfold.

“How much trouble are you in?” She asked softly, fear in her voice. “You’re not expelled, are you?”

The boys, looked to me concerned, with the same fear that Hermione had.

“What? No,” I backtracked. “Of course not!”

The three of them visibly relaxed.

“Is that what you guys have been worried about? Why you waited for me?” Part of me was touched that they did still care about me, despite what happened last night.

“Well, you were gone for hours, we weren’t sure what happened.” Ron defended Hermione. “Knowing Malfoy, we thought sure he’d get you kicked out.”

“No, we didn’t.” Hermione clarified. “They did. I did try and stay up to talk to you, but...”

I gave her a soft smile, letting her know that it was okay.

My eyes met Harry’s and my mood shifted as we stared each other down, both giving away nothing. There were accusations behind his eyes and threats behind mine. I dared him to say something.

“I’m not kicked out. I’m not in trouble—neither is Draco for that matter. You don’t know anything about him, and I really don’t want to hear it from either of you. I will tell you what I can if you want to listen. If not... not a word.” I threatened softly.

Ron and Hermione nodded, and I looked to Harry for his response.

“So, you two are on a first name basis then?” Harry remarked.

I gave a curt nod, narrowing my eyes.

“Are you two dating?” Ron asked, sounding innocently curious and disgusted. 

“Well, we never really reached an answer to that...” I frowned, thinking.

Were we dating? Is that what this was? Surely it had to be more than what a boyfriend and girlfriend meant. Didn’t Draco mean more to me than that? My mother’s suggestion of Consentire Animi Pace, the bond of two souls in an effort for peace, made a bit more sense. Draco was right, we’d have to look into that later.

“Where were you last night if you weren’t getting expelled?” Harry asked—demanded.

“With Draco,” I answered coolly. “Anything else?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow and I knew she had a lot more questions for me, but not in front of the boys at least. There had to be a time that I explained it all to them and how long Draco and I had been at this. From the outside I guess it did look very sudden.

Hermione fell into step with me as we made our way to the Great Hall with many other students who—not that I noticed—stared at us more than usual. Well, stared at me more than usual. Harry had just won the first task not too long ago and he was getting the normal amount of over attention.

“So, what happened!?” She asked excitedly, trying to whisper. “I need to know!”

I recounted in a low voice Draco and I’s adventure over the few hours: McGonagall’s office, the Astronomy Tower, my mother’s letter. I left out some details of the two of us that were only meant for each other. Hermione asked to see my mother’s letter later and I was hesitant to hand it over.

“No, I understand, it’s not meant for me,” She nodded, not looking sad at all. “I just can’t believe that you and Draco actually kissed in front of like everybody.” She whisper yelled. “It’s all anyone has been talking about!”

I got really red and looked down, sheepish.

“How bad is it?” I questioned, my eyes darting around the halls to other students—I met curious stares, some gaping at me, and some wishing that looks could kill.

“Not too bad I think,” She encouraged, “But then again I don’t know why they’d tell me about how they felt.” She shrugged. “But what was it like? Kissing him?”

I smile ghosted my lips as my cheeks grew warm. I could see Harry and Ron stiffen as they overheard the question.

“Not here,” I hissed, giving her a sharp look.

“To think, you being with a Slytherin, a Malfoy!” She laughed.

“He’s not so bad,” I defended softly, my voice and thoughts trailing off.

The Great Hall, to my relief, was not all staring at me as we entered. Instead everyone was quite calm and talking about a lot of different things, a main topic the Yule Ball. Part of me dreaded it, but then again... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Taking a seat, breakfast was served—magically. On my plate was biscuits and gravy, fruit, and hard-boiled eggs: my usual. Ron eyed the greyish sludge as he did every morning but said nothing. I suppressed a smile and began to eat. Comradery began to fall over us as the meal went on and George and Fred sat with us.

“Who knew what all it took was a kiss to shut Malfoy up?” Fred snickered, as did George. “Nice work Y/n.”

“So, you guys have been kissed!?” I smiled brightly turning to them. “That’s great!” My cheery dispositions faded to a glare.

I leaned across the table toward them, narrowing my eyes.

“Remember that I have access to where you sleep,” I threatened, a bright smile on my face.

“Good lord she’s terrifying, they do belong together.” George muttered under his breath, his joking tone gone as he looked at his breakfast.

I sat back smugly as the twins began to argue with Ron over using their owl. 

“So . . . you lot got dates for the ball yet?” George asked.

“Nope,” said Ron.

We all exchanged looks. Hermione grew red and looked down, the twinkle in her eyes that she knew something, but refrained from saying it—she had a date. A smile stretched on my face as I thought of who it might be, my suspicions landed on Krum. Good for her.

“Well, you’d better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,” said Fred.

They continued to talk of dates and Fred stood, asking Angelina to the ball, to which she said yes. Good for him too.

My mind drifted off to Draco. Would we go together? Should I hope for that? What would he think? Would he not want to because of all the attention it would attract? Surely his father would find out who he went with... could we risk that?

“Her nose is off-center,” said Ron when I finally tuned back into the conversation.

“Oh, I see,” Hermione said, bristling. “So basically, you’re going to take the best-looking girl who’ll have you, even if she’s completely horrible?”

“Er — yeah, that sounds about right,” Ron said, his ears going pink. Hermione huffed, clearly annoyed as she stood.

“We’re going to be late.” She snapped.

“We have plenty of time,” Ron complained.

“Well, I’m going now.” Standing, she grabbed her bag and stack of books. “Are you ready?” She turned to me, a softer note in her tone.

“Yeah,” I nodded looking at my half-eaten breakfast. “I need to look for something in the library anyway,”

Hermione was still livid as we walked down the hall toward the library. I smiled and left her to her thoughts, mine again drifting back to Draco. I didn’t notice him at breakfast. I hoped he was up and eating.

“So, are you and Draco going together?” Hermione asked as we strolled through the shelves of books.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “We... we have a lot to figure out.”

I pulled a book (An Extended Guide to Souls) hoping it would give me what I was looking for. There were a few others that the librarian had suggested that I look into, but I couldn’t find one that seemed the most promising: Harmony Through The Ages: Souls and the Magic Behind Them.

“What’s with all the soul stuff?” She asked, looking at my book stack.

“Something my mother said...” My eyes trailed the books looking for the final spine. “Thought I’d look into it.”

“About you and Draco?”

I gave her a look and she went quiet again.

“Not that I don’t want to tell you,” I explained quickly. “I just don’t know what to tell you without... I don’t know. Talking to him about it first? This is... so much bigger than I thought Hermione and I’m kinda freaking out,” I confessed.

“You’re not alone Y/n,” She encouraged. “Whatever is going on, you’re the most capable to figure it out. I’ll be there, and even if they don’t like it, so will Ron and Harry.”

“Thanks Hermione,” I relaxed a little bit. “Where is this stupid book!?” I yelled at no one in particular.

“Use a Summoning Spell,” Hermione suggested.

Humming, I pulled out my wand, twirled it once, and looked at the title again before casting the spell. The book flew into my hands.

“Oi! What stupid buffoon just—”

My eyes met livid blue ones, as I hid slightly behind it, trying not to laugh.

I couldn’t find the book because Draco had it.

“Sorry?” I felt my face going red as his anger turned to disbelief and faded.

“I’m... I’ll leave you two to it then. Don’t forget, class starts in fifteen minutes,” Hermione stammered and quickly made herself scarce.

“You could have just asked for it,” He huffed, coming over and taking it from my hands. “Contrary to popular belief, I do respond well to manners,”

“I do believe I apologized,” I smirked, looking up at him.

He was so close; I could feel his warmth as his robes brushed against mine.

“So, you did,” He mused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But I’m afraid that I simply cannot hand the book over,”

“And why not?” I demanded, watching him circle me as predator did prey. “

I’m reading it of course,”

“Oh, so you’ve learned to read? Wonderful,” I teased.

His calm teasing demeanor fell through as he smiled and rolled his eyes. He didn’t give me the book, however. He looked at the other ones that I had gathered.

“You think these might have answers?” He asked thoughtfully, picking one up and adding it to his pile.

“Hey, those are mine,” I grabbed it from his pile and added it back to mine. “And anything might help.”

“Am I not allowed to carry your books then? Is that not what I’m supposed to do?”

Oh, he was toying with me and he knew it. My fists clenched as I struggled between wanting to punch him and kiss him and then wanting to do both.

“I don’t know,” I drawled. “I don’t see any other guy offering... well not at the moment anyway,”

He narrowed his eyes at me, and I knew that I had gotten under his skin. I gave in, maybe too easy, and reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You’re the only one I’d ever let carry my books,” I affirmed. “They’re very important to me,”

His cool exterior softened as he grabbed the rest of my stack as we headed out to the hall. The few students that were out in the hallway gaped at the two of us, but with a look from either me or Draco, their attention diverted elsewhere.

“Good job on the Summoning Spell,” He noted as we walked along.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Maybe though, we look at this stuff together?” I asked, almost embarrassed—even though it was stupid to be sheepish at all.

He nodded lost in thought. We paused in front of the Divination’s stairwell, knowing that this is where we parted ways.

“Y/n?” He asked, his cheeks growing red as he looked at the floor.

“Yeah?” I nudged him softly, a reminder that he was okay, and I wasn’t going to yell at him.

“I... well...”

I waited, an amused expression on my face as hope and excitement fluttered in my chest. There wasn’t much that could get him flustered like this and I really wondered what it was, I had two guesses, but I waited anyway.

“I’ll see you at lunch?”

Oh, come on you stupid boy ask me out already.

“I’ll see you at lunch Draco,” I fought the urge to roll my eyes and took my books from his hold.

“I... yeah,” He flashed a quick smile and started the other way down the hall towards his first class.

I rolled my eyes and dragged myself up the stairs for another lesson on “The All-Seeing Eye.” It was going to be a long hour.

_______________________

Draco was all out of sorts in his first class. He barely payed attention to Professor Flitwick all hour. He couldn’t stop thinking about the look on your face after he had about... never mind that... for taking his book. His ager short circuited around you.

And the flippant comments you made, they were no different than before... but you were different from before, and so was he. And he knew then that you two had shifted from jeering to... flirting.

Ugh.

He didn’t know how to flirt, he never had reason to, but there you were... looking at him through your eyelashes, quipping with him, trying to make him jealous—not that it worked.

And why were you the only one he couldn’t talk to properly? He had talked to plenty of girls before and not once did he stammer or stutter or feel nervous about anything, and now... well,

now he struggled to ask you to be his... was girlfriend the right word? He thought it was too dull to describe you, but it would have to do for now he supposed.

“Mr. Malfoy!” Flitwick called. “What is the purpose of the Muffliato Charm?”

He blanked. Sitting up straight, he ransacked his mind for an answer.

So that no one overhears us, your voice whispered in his head. It’s just for you and me.

“So that no one overhears,” He stammered out, recalling after your hint. “It creates a buzzing in the person’s ear so that they can’t overhear a conversation.” He finished confidently.

“Very good,” Flitwick narrowed his eyes and continued to go over the method and wand movement behind the charm as Draco tried his hardest to keep paying attention.

____________________

Taking my seat next to Neville, I gave him a soft smile as Trelawny began her lesson on the planets and stars.

“Tell me, Ms. Y/n, when were you born my dear?” The professor came over to our small table.

“Late February,” I replied, flipping through my notes and the charts I had revolving around my birth and the stars.

“I see, a water spirit resides within you. Like the sea, both beautiful and foreboding. You must learn to control that my dear,” Trelawny warned. “And... I see another. A sea and a shore... one cannot exist without the other...”

My cheeks grew warm as I scribbled down what she said, thinking that was another thing to look into.

“So... you and—Malfoy,” Neville stammered.

Part of me wanted to snap at him like I would Harry, but I remember that Neville had always been kind to me, and I had no reason to attack him.

“Looks like it,” I nodded, skimming over the book in front of me trying to multitask. 

“Is he taking you to the Yule Ball?” Neville was now flushing and stuttering worse.

My eyes snapped up as my eyebrows quirked. What was it with the guys around here today? I wasn’t that intimidating... was I?

“Not that I—” He stumbled. “I just— you’re really—”

I smiled and let out a soft laugh.

“It’s okay Neville, don’t get so worked up.” I soothed. “And I don’t know. He hasn’t asked me yet.” If he even is, I thought in vain. “You should ask Ginny,” I smiled warmly.

Neville nodded and looked down. I took a deep breath and sighed as we worked together through the rest of class, my thoughts elsewhere.

.

.

Part 9

[spine-buster]

The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 1

A/N: To celebrate William “Thirst Trap” Nylander’s birthday last Friday, I’m going to do a double post this week!  (Also maybe because he’s technically not in this chapter).  Make sure you set your clocks for Thursday at 7:30pm cause that’s when I’ll post Chapter 2.  Chapter 3 will then proceed next Monday on our regular once-a-week schedule.

September 3rd, 2019

Aberdeen Bloom was still looking for a job.

She was still sending out her resume to companies.  She was still making follow-up phone calls.  She was still creating alert notifications for jobs she’d be interested in.  She was still going for interviews.  She was still shaking hands and thanking people for their time.  She was still writing follow-up thank you emails.  She was still getting rejection calls.  She was still submitting work to writing contests and magazines.  She was still getting “It’s not what we’re looking for right now” emails.  

She sighed.

So maybe getting the dream gig was harder than she thought.

It wasn’t like the bank had let her go.  She was still earning something to keep her afloat, but it was the bank.  It wasn’t writing, it wasn’t anything else.  It was the same stuff every single day and Aberdeen was starting to resent it.  She didn’t move downtown to stay a bank teller.  She moved downtown to start her career, and this was not starting her career.

But then a phone call came on Sunday – peculiar, she thought, since it was a long weekend and had expected everybody and their mothers to be at a cottage – asking if she wanted to come in for an interview.  To MLSE.  For the personal assistant job.  Aberdeen didn’t even remember applying to MLSE.  But she was desperate, so she said yes, and now she found herself looking in the mirror with her best “interview outfit” on ready to ace it.

She took a deep breath.  She could do this.  She packed her bag, made sure she had her wallet at keys, and left the condo, deciding to walk the short way to 50 Bay Street so she could pick up breakfast on the way.  Even while eating the ham and swiss sandwich, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach – it didn’t calm her nerves at all.  For some reason, she felt like this was her last chance to build something towards her career.  If she didn’t, she’d be stuck bank-telling forever.  When she stood outside the doors of 50 Bay Street, she took a deep breath before walking in.

“When you arrive, tell the receptionist you are looking for Frances Munro” the woman on the other line had told her when she called for the interview.  As she approached the receptionist, she tried to look as confident as possible.  “Hi, my name is Aberdeen Bloom.  I’m here for an interview with, um, Frances Munro?”

“Aberdeen Bloom?” another voice called out.  

Aberdeen looked up to see another woman lurking in the back, a clipboard in hand, dressed impeccably well.  “Yes.  Hi.”

The woman looked at her.  Aberdeen could see her give a quick up-down.  “Great.  Human resources certainly has an odd sense of humour,” she quipped, chuckling for nobody but herself.  “Follow me.”

Aberdeen did as she was told, giving a polite nod to the receptionist who was already ignoring her.  She circled around the desk and followed Frances, who walked through the door but didn’t hold it open.  “Okay, so I was Brendan’s personal assistant but I recently got promoted so now I’m looking for someone else,” Frances explained.

“Oh, so you’re replacing yourself.”

“Well, I’m trying to.  We tried to be proactive and hire early but the last two Brendan sacked after only a few weeks.  We need to find someone who can survive here – who can survive Brendan’s schedule and survive the pressure of the Leafs.  Do you understand?”

“Yes.  Absolutely.”  Aberdeen looked around awkwardly.  “Who is Brendan?”

“What?” Frances stopped dead in her tracks to look back at Aberdeen.  “Oh my God, I will pretend did not just ask me that – Brendan Shanahan, he’s the president of the Toronto Maple Leafs,” she practically hissed at her, continuing her walk.  “Not to mention a hockey legend.  If you work a year for him you can get a job in any adjacent field you want – sports, media, journalism, writing, whatever.  A million people would kill for this job.”

Writing.  Writing.  WRITING!!!!!  Alarm bells were going off in Aberdeen’s ears.  “It sounds like a great opportunity.  I’d love to be considered.”

Frances giggled, pushing her clipboard up to cover the smile on her face.  They had stopped in front of a series of doors and Aberdeen felt like she was going to have to pick the one without the tiger in it.  “Aberdeen…the Toronto Maple Leafs are a hockey club.  An interest in hockey…even just a little bit, is crucial,” she explained condescendingly.  Aberdeen wondered how someone like this could even get promoted.  “Do you play hockey?

“No.”

“Do you watch hockey?”

“No.”

Frances looked shocked.  “Do you know who the Toronto Maple Leafs are?”

“Of course I know who the Toronto Maple Leafs are,” Aberdeen huffed.  “I just don’t…I mean, I don’t…”

“If I put a picture of Mats Sundin in front of you right now could you pick him apart from Wendel Clark or Doug Gilmour?”

There was an awkward pause.  “Are those Mr. Shanahan’s right-hand men?”

“Oh my God,” Frances muttered under her breath.  “Have you ever been to a game?”

“Yes.”

“Are you lying?”

“No – no, I’m not lying,” Aberdeen said quickly.  “One of my friends – her dad gets tickets through clients or whatever.  I’ll go to maybe one a year with her family.  But it’s not – I’m not like…the experience is fun.”

Before Frances could respond with something that was ruder than the last thing she said, her phone let out a really loud notification.  She balanced the clipboard on one hand as she took out her phone.  But as she looked at the message on the screen, her face dropped.  “Oh my God, oh my God, no!”

Aberdeen’s face dropped too.  “What’s wrong?”

Frances dropped her clipboard onto the desk and ran around it, grabbing the phone receiver and dialling a number.  Almost automatically, she began talking.  “He’s on his way.  Tell everyone the story needs to be retracted now,” she barked before hanging up.  A man walked through another door and suddenly, it was complete mayhem.  People were running through everywhere.  

“He wasn’t supposed to arrive until 9:30.  What happened?” the man asked Frances.

“Those idiots at the Sun had the audacity to actually post the story about his daughter online.  God, these people!” Frances huffed.  

Aberdeen stood awkwardly as everyone seemed to go into mayhem mode.  Frances was running around like a chicken with her head cut off, that one guy had mysteriously disappeared, and men in suits were in and out of everywhere with panicked looks on their faces.  She watched as Frances whipped into the office and began putting stuff out on the desk – a glass of San Pellegrino water, a venti Starbucks, and the sports sections of all the local newspapers.  When she was done, Frances grabbed the clipboard from her desk, a pen, and ran back down the corridor they just came from, leaving Aberdeen there, standing alone.  Awkwardly.  

Eventually, she could hear Frances’s voice again – much more polite this time – and footsteps of very expensive shoes clacking down the hallway.  “Yes Mr. Shanahan, of course.”

“And tell David at The Sun that I’m this close to revoking media access to the locker room if he publishes another article to do with my children ever again,” a voice Aberdeen could only assume was Brendan Shanahan’s was echoing down the hallway.

“I’ll get right on it.”

“Then tell Ben up in the legal department to draw up the paperwork necessary for that to scare them,” she heard, and finally, they rounded the corner.  Frances and Mr. Brendan Shanahan, President of the Toronto Maple Leafs.  He was angry.  Aberdeen could tell, even if she didn’t hear any of his last sentences – his body language showed it all.  She stepped back a few steps so he could get into his office unimpeded, where he would very obviously yell at the top of his lungs once he shut the door.  

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Frances stood in front of Aberdeen, shielding her from Brendan’s view as he looked back at Aberdeen from inside his office.  “Nobody – well – human resources sent her about the personal assistant job and I was going to interview her…but, but she’s hopeless,” she chuckled out, “and totally wrong for the job—”

“Well clearly I’m going to have to do that myself, since the last two you sent me were completely inadequate,” he deadpanned.  Frances’s back stiffened at the words.  “So send her in,” he finished as he sat down at his desk.  

Frances walked out of Mr. Shanahan’s office.  “Mr. Shanahan would like to see you,” she said politely, loud enough for him to hear.  It was when she leaned in closer that she began to whisper so he couldn’t.  “Brendan Shanahan is the absolute nicest person you will ever meet,” she began, “but he is also the busiest, most intense, most dedicated hockey professional in the entire National Hockey League.  Do you understand?”

Aberdeen gulped.  “Yes.”

“And I hope you know that this is a very difficult job for which you re totally wrong, and if you mess up my head is on the chopping block.”

‘That might not be so bad’, Aberdeen thought.  She would have appreciated some words of encouragement, like what Kasha had given her this morning, rather than the shpeal she was getting now.  But Aberdeen digressed, and nodded her head.  She took out a copy of her resume from her purse before walking in.

When she did, she couldn’t help but notice all the fine detailing of his office.  A lot of oak, bookcases, a lot of framed pictures of his family, and a giant Toronto Maple Leaf logo plastered – literally plastered – onto the wall.  He even had a giant oak desk – so regal – in the middle of the room.  

“Who are you?” Brendan asked in a tone much softer, but still angry.

Aberdeen took a deep breath.  This was her time to shine.  “Hi Mr. Shanahan.  My name is Aberdeen Bloom,” she said, stepping forward awkwardly to place her resume on his desk.  “I recently graduated from the University of Toronto—”

“And what are you doing here?” he asked.

Aberdeen blanked.  What was she doing here?  “Um, well, I think I could do a good job as your assistant, and um…” she started, noticing that Brendan was putting on his glasses.  Her gave her a look as those words left her mouth.  He grabbed the newspapers off his desk and placed them in front of him, over her resume.  

‘Alright Aberdeen.  Cut the bullshit’ she told herself.  “Yeah, so, I graduated U of T and want to become a writer.  I sent my resume out everywhere, and my work to try to get published, and finally I got a call from the MLSE human resources department, and…well, basically it’s this or bank-telling.”

Brendan didn’t look up from his newspaper.  “So you’re not a fan of the Toronto Maple Leafs.”

Aberdeen’s body stiffened.  “Uh…no?”

“And before today you had never heard of me.”

“…No.”

There was an awkward pause.  Brendan didn’t seem like he had any more questions in him – if he even cared.  It was so clear that he didn’t and that she was bombing this interview.  But Aberdeen felt more words coming.  “I was recently published in Acta Victoriana, the oldest continuous university magazine in Canada – twice, actually – and was also published in the Hart House Review—”

“I think we’re done here,” Brendan said, not looking up from the newspaper.  That was it.  Cut throat.  Didn’t care.

Aberdeen swallowed her pride.  So this interview was a dumpster fire from the get-go.  But it was him that came in angry and him that came into this without an open mind.  She couldn’t help but scoff at how he dismissed her; he didn’t even have the courtesy to look up.  She turned to walk out.

‘Don’t let it end like this’ her mind told her.  ‘You have so much within you that he doesn’t want to see’.

So she turned around.  “You know what?  You’re right.  I know nothing about hockey,” she began, her voice as strong and powerful as she could make it.  “The woman who brought me in asked if I knew the difference between Matt…Gilmour and something…something Sundin, and I didn’t.  I don’t fit in here,” she continued, noticing that he finally looked up.  “I’m a girl who grew up in an old bungalow in Etobicoke with immigrant parents.  I’m an English major with a double minor in classics and film.  But I’m smart.  I’m really f…really smart, and I learn fast, and I will work hard if you give me the chance to do so here—”

“Good news – they’ve agreed to take down the story,” somebody burst into the room interrupting her speech.  Brendan looked at her until the person laid their iPad down in front of him.  “The tweet linking the article is gone and it’s completely gone off their website.  Adrienne Batra wants to call you to personally apologize.”

“There’s no way I’m speaking to that woman,” Brendan mumbled.  “Tell her I want it in writing.  And one to my daughter as well.”

“Thank you for your…time,” Aberdeen said, as if he gave her any.  She walked out of his office and out of his life forever.  

Aberdeen decided to take the stairs, slowly walking down the flights of stairs, hearing her shoes clack against the bare concrete.  There, she could at least wallow in her self-pity after that train wreck of an interview.  She could deliberate about her next choices and steps.  Keep bank-telling?  Go back and get her Master’s?  Take a new course?  Tell her parents how she was failing?  Move back home?  Never do anything with her life?  Live in her parents’ basement for the rest of her life?  Maybe she should just stay in this stairwell.  Maybe she should start living here, since there was nothing else for her out there in the big wide world.  Maybe she’d become a hermit.

As she finally reached the ground floor, she thanked the receptionist again, who ignored her again.  Typical.  As she was about to walk out of 50 Bay Street, she heard her name being called.  “Aberdeen!”

She turned around.  Frances was waving her back, rolling her eyes at the same time.  Aberdeen furrowed her brows.  Did she forget something?  What was going on?  She scurried over to Frances.  “What’s wrong?”

“Brendan wants to speak to you.”

Aberdeen gulped.  She was going to get yelled at by the President of the Toronto Maple Leafs.  He was going to completely obliterate her entire life and not-yet-burgeoning career for that little stunt she pulled inside his office with that speech, and she’d never be able to find a job anywhere in Toronto again.  She may as well just move into her parents’ basement now.  

As they both rode the elevator back up, Aberdeen’s heart kept beating faster and faster.  “Do you know what he wants to speak about?” Aberdeen asked.

“I have no clue,” Frances said absent-mindedly, typing something into her phone.

When they arrived back upstairs, Frances led her straight back into Brendan’s office.  He was working on his laptop now, instead of reading his newspaper over Aberdeen’s resume.  “Brendan, I have Aberdeen back for you,” Frances announced.

“Excellent,” he said, his voice much more upbeat than what is was five or ten minutes ago.  “Franny, I’d like you to take Aberdeen to get her picture taken for her new MLSE identification badge,” he said.

Frances’s eyes bulged out of her head.  So did Aberdeen’s.  “W-What?” Frances stuttered out.

“And after that, I’d like you to take the town car and take Aberdeen to the Eaton’s Centre to get her an iPad Pro with a keyboard so we can start the process of downloading all the necessary apps and internal mail server she’ll need to do the job.”

Aberdeen’s stomach dropped.  “I…I got the job?” she asked, completely flabbergasted.  Was he nuts?  Completely, certifiably insane?

“You start next Monday.  Is that fine with you?”

Aberdeen found herself nodding.

***

“I’m so glad Steven could get that done for you today,” Brendan said as he rounded the corner of his desk so he could sit in his fancy big chair.  Aberdeen nodded, looking at the screen of her new iPad Pro.  Steven, one of the guys from tech support, had helped her download everything she needed to have on it.  

“Yeah.  It was all really fast.”

“After you finish up here today you may need to go back to the Eaton’s Centre,” Brendan informed her.  “You’re going to need to purchase a work wardrobe.  Keep every receipt because MLSE will reimburse you.  I prefer black, but really…get whatever you think is appropriate for an office.”

“Okay.”

“No heels necessary.  When we travel, I obviously don’t mind something more laid back – especially trips to the west coast.  Do you have a valid and working passport?”

“Yes sir.”

“Make sure you have it when traveling.  Our charter plane will still need to see it.  We’ll make copies.”

“Yes sir.”

“You’ll need to be available every game day.  We usually have Sundays off, but it’s a very untraditional schedule.  You’re okay with that?”

“Yes sir.”

“And I have your contract for you,” he said, grabbing some paperwork on the desk.  “We’ll have someone from the legal department come and explain it shortly,” he handed it to her, “but you’ll see the salary at the bottom of the first page.”  Aberdeen looked down.  Her eyes bulged at the number.  “If everything is to your liking, then we can sign.”

“Okay,” she nodded her head.  She gulped.  

Brendan looked at Aberdeen and could tell she was nervous – it was obvious in her short “Yes sir” responses anyway, but she looked like she wanted to curl into her shell.  “Before Ben from legal gets here, I would like to apologize about this morning,” he said.  “A local newspaper ran an article about one of my daughters, and my children…well, my children are completely off-limits.  Everybody knows that.  But sometimes some journalists like to see how far they can take things, even though they know family is off limits.”

Aberdeen understood where he was coming from.  If anyone ever said anything bad about Siena or Camden, she’d have their head on a spike.  She couldn’t even imagine what it was like for a father, or any parent for that matter, to have an article published about their child without their permission.  “I understand, Mr. Shanahan.”

“We are like a family here, you know – MLSE, but the Leafs especially.  You will feel part of that family soon enough.”

Aberdeen nodded nervously.  “I’m sure I will, Mr. Shanahan.”

“Well…” he shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in his chair and smiling at her.  “Congratulations, Miss Bloom.  You are now an employee of MLSE.”

***

“With the Leafs?!” Kasha was shocked when Aberdeen told her.  She’d started pouring glasses of wine when Aberdeen told her she got a job, but once she revealed the specifics, Kasha was shocked.  “Gosh Aberdeen, remember when my dad would bring me, you, and Siena to games with the company season tickets?”

“I know.”

“And now you’re working for them?!”

“For the President.  I’m his personal assistant.”

“Oh my God!” Kasha exclaimed.  “Seriously though, I bet a million jocks would kill for that job,” she commented as she finished pouring the wine.  

“Yeah.  Great,” Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders.  “Thing is, I’m not one of them.”

“Well, you gotta start somewhere, right?” Kasha offered.  She picked up both wine glasses, handing one to Aberdeen.  Kasha held her glass up.  “To jobs that pay the rent.”

Aberdeen giggled.  “To jobs that pay the rent.”