#which i...need...to respond to...it's in my drafts still...but somehow i keep staring and thinking of nothing...whoops

[keicordelle]

A First for Everything Chapter 11: A Watched Pot! Somewhere in my notes folder, there are eight (8) drafts of this chapter. Thancred just really did not want to express himself. Which, given the situation, is fairly in character, actually, I guess

Read it on Ao3 at the link above, or check out the first chapter on Tumblr here.

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"Uri—" Urianger didn't so much as look back, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away. His nightgown swirled around his ankles as he fled, his usually soft steps striking through Thancred’s ears like tolling thunder. Each step a finality.

Not half so final as the thud of the door as it closed behind him. Leaving Thancred staring at the space where he had just been, the heat of Urianger’s body still clinging to his sleep clothes. He could still taste him on his lips, sweet and tentative and new. Could feel the phantom touch of his hands through his hair, and his tongue coiling against his own.

Thancred touched his lips, still staring after Urianger. That had been... sweet. In all the hundreds of times he'd pictured kissing Urianger in the last few weeks, he could never have imagined how gentle he'd be. How eager. Even his wildest fantasies paled in comparison to the reality.

The tangled snarl of emotion that had replaced Thancred’s heart squeezed tighter as he heard the front door thunk closed. Fuck. "Haaa...." He sank down to sit on the end of the bed, head dropping to bury his face in his hands. Gods, he shouldn’t have done that. He should have waited until he was sure it was really what Urianger wanted. He'd let his own desires get away from him and let himself get swept up in the moment because he had wanted to kiss Urianger. He should have waited until Urianger was ready — until he was ready. Thal's balls, he wasn't sure he was prepared to handle the implications of what he'd just done. He'd kissed Urianger. His friend — maybe his best friend, and certainly one of his oldest. One of the few bright spots in the chaos and strife of this other world. And Thancred had just up and kissed him on a whim, knowing full well that Urianger wasn't the type to just up and ask for something like that. That alone should have been clue enough to slow things down, but no, he'd let his selfish desires get in the way and put their whole friendship on the line.

He should have expected he'd react badly. And yet... he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Urianger had responded. The way his hands hand curled into Thancred’s hair, and his lips had parted beneath his. The way Urianger had pushed into him, needy and hungry. The way he'd proved that he was just as good a student when it came to physical study as with literary. Thal's balls, that had been one hell of a kiss.

And despite everything, somehow Thancred couldn't find it in himself to regret it. It had been everything he had ever— No, it had been better than he could have imagined, tender and sweet in a way he... hadn't ever really experienced before. Thancred had kissed more people than he'd bothered to keep track of, and yet none had ever held him so gently, or melted so thoroughly into him. It had been awkward at first, but even that had been cute: the way Urianger had been stiff against him, unyielding and uncertain, and slowly opened up before him. The tentative way he'd responded, growing bolder and pressing forward. Gods, the sounds that he had made. A scene that would linger in Thancred’s memory for many days and many, many nights, he was sure.

Augh. He flopped back against the bed, dragging his hands roughly through his hair. Urianger’s scent still clung to the sheets, billowing up around him like some cruel and peculiar punishment. What was he supposed to do now? Should he chase him down? That stood a heavy chance of backfiring, he thought. Maybe all Urianger needed was some space, to put his thoughts in order. Or maybe he never wanted to see Thancred again, and he should gather his things and plan to move on with Minfilia before everything got too awkward to bear.

No... If Urianger needed some space, Thancred could give him some space. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to react if Urianger came back and wanted to pretend the whole thing had never happened, but that was— a problem for another time. Thancred was good at lying, to himself as much as to others. He could pretend, if Urianger wanted to pretend. Probably.

Yeah, because you've been doing such a great job at that the past few weeks. He shoved aside the thought. With a groan, he hauled himself back up to a seated position. Wallowing here wasn't going to help anything.

His gaze snagged on the glittering pile of chains on the dresser across the bed, Urianger's robe folded neatly beside them. Twelve, please tell me he at least brought his astroglobe with him. If he were out there alone and at the mercy of whatever vicious fae creatures wished to take a bite out of him.... But no, surely even in the heat of the moment, he was smarter than that. No matter how distraught he was, he'd come back if he were at risk of running into trouble, right?

Right. Thancred was just looking for an excuse to go chase him down. With a frustrated groan, he gained his feet. Better to get dressed and find something to do with himself rather than sit here dwelling on it. Thinking about it was only going to make it worse.

It was amazing how many meaningless tasks you could find for yourself when you really really didn't want to think. The house had never been so clean: baseboards dusted, windows washed, books organized (he was sure he was going to hear about that one later, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time). Thancred’s muscles burned with the strain of a lengthy workout, and the scent of yeast clung to the inside of his nose as he punched down a bulbous ball of dough.

It was also amazing how much thinking you could do when you had nothing better to focus on than dust and soap. He couldn’t stop his mind from spinning, the world around him seeming at once too small and overly large. He had half a mind to go out for a run, just to escape these walls that seemed to press in on him from every side, but he feared that the second he set foot outside, his feet would take him to hunt down Urianger whether it was his intention or not. No. He would let Urianger come to him, as he’d resolved himself to do. He'd come back eventually. He had to. It was his house.

Minfilia lingered at the edges of his vision all day long, just close enough to grate on his nerves but far enough away that Thancred knew it wasn't warranted. Only once had she ventured closer, watching him timidly with those baleful blue eyes as she asked, "Is... everything alright, Mr. Thancred?"

"Everything's fine." A grunt as he drove his knuckles into the dough, digging into its soft flesh. It wasn't half so cathartic as it should have been.

"Oh..." Thancred thought she might be smart and drop it, but after a moment's hesitation she continued. "Where did Mr. Urianger go this morning?"

"Out."

Her hands wrung themselves in front of her, twisting the end of her skirt nervously. Thancred lifted his eyes to her face, and something in his gaze made her quail, shrinking back from him and edging towards the door. "Oh..." Her eyes dropped quickly to the floor.

He turned back to his dough, and the quick patter of her footsteps told him she'd fled the moment he looked away. Damn it, she hadn't deserved that. He'd have to apologize to her later. For once, his bad mood wasn't related to her in any way — though he couldn't help but wonder what his Minfilia would have to say about this situation if she were here. She'd always been good at advice, whether he wanted to hear it or not. Hells.

Instead, he punched his distress out into his dough, and waited for Urianger to come home.

[Chapter 12] | [Masterlist]

[Kofi/Commissions]

[fairyhee]

Chocolate eclairs (pt.2)

{Part 1}

🍫 optional bias x reader

🍫 ~5.6k words

🍫 smut, enemies to lovers, slight dom/sub themes, praise kink, some dirty talk, oral (both receiving), face sitting (whew), reader has a thing for hands

(I might have dragged everything out for too long? I’m not sure, you tell me, but I just love thinking about all the details so I went with it. Also while I was writing, at some point I lost half of it and had to re-write it because the damn app didn’t save my changes to the draft 🙃 anyways thank you for reading!)

So far, nothing was going as planned today, but somehow you didn’t mind it anymore. At first you were extremely annoyed to say the least, but you slowly started to think having a tall and ridiculously handsome guy follow you around wasn’t so bad after all. Even though he was purposely being irritating, as always, just to get reactions out of you, it was worth enduring for the random flirty remarks he spat out every once in a while. Was he always like this? Did you only realize it now because you were too busy thinking how obnoxiously confident he was, or did he really also dislike you before? You were quite confused, but you at least thought you should enjoy the moment.

After buying those damn chocolate eclairs that you had been craving for a week, and after he insisted to pay, all while poking fun at how you were gonna die at a young age from how much sugar you consume, your next stop would have been the lingerie store. Except now you had him coming along with you, so you weren’t very sure what you should do. To buy some time, you pretended to look at all the stereotypically “romantic” objects that people usually gifted each other on Valentine’s day. Just for fun, you weren’t planning on hinting at anything, but you just wanted to see what he’d be like. Not to mention window shopping was one of your favorite activities when you had nothing else better to do. He, on the other hand, had his mind fixed on one thing solely.

“Y/n, aren’t we eating those eclairs? You didn’t want them just to carry them around, did you?” he asked with a pout.

“Excuse me, since when is there a ‘we’? They’re my eclairs, and I’m saving them for later. I told you I have plans, were you even listening to me?”

“You have plans, right. Well you should be careful then, that boyfriend you have plans with might get jealous if he sees you walking around with a guy like me. I honestly wouldn’t blame him if he felt threatened, after all, you just let the most handsome dude around here buy you coffee and sweets...oh wait, I forgot. You actually don’t have a boyfriend, do you now?” he said in a sarcastic tone. 

“It’s extremely funny that you think I need a man in order to have plans on Valentine’s day. I can very well take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“You can take care of yourself in what way exactly? Because if it’s what I’m thinking of, I bet I can do it better.”

“Thank you for your concern, h/n, but if you think you can buy your way into my pants with some sweets, then you have a very low and unrealistic expectation of me. If you want to impress me, try harder.”

“Oh don’t worry, this is far from my best shot. You just look so hot when you’re mad at me, I can’t stop myself.” he said with a sheepish laugh.

You blushed slightly, both at his words and from seeing him grinning so cutely. He had no business looking all cute like that after he had just literally suggested you sleep with him. How could he switch from being so cocky to getting shy for you in just a matter of seconds? You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d actually be like in bed. Especially since he had just showed a new side of him, a particular image of him being submissive to you was stuck on your brain. You could feel your face heating up, and you hoped he didn’t notice how red your cheeks had probably become.

Brushing it off, you entered a random toy store, feigning interest in some plushies. As you were admiring the various teddy bears that came in all shapes and colors, you noticed he had been surprisingly silent since your last exchange. You threw a glance at him and he seemed to have found some games he was interested in, as he had his eyebrows furrowed, trying to read the instructions on the back of some boxes. Perfect, you thought to yourself, now that he’s distracted, you could think of a plan. What the hell were you gonna do about the lingerie? You didn’t want to give up on buying it, you had wanted it for a long time and now was the perfect occasion. Did you want to go with him? Would he want to even enter the store with you? Would he become flustered and make things awkward? Would it be weird if you suddenly told him to leave you alone for a couple of minutes and meet you later? Or should you just end your meeting right there? You weren’t even sure how you wanted to spend the rest of the day anymore, but you for sure didn’t intend to abandon your plans completely for this man that barged into your solo Valentine’s day like that, despite the fact that you were starting to get interested in him.

While you were definitely overthinking the situation, h/n had long finished browsing the board games section. Suddenly, you felt someone’s hot breath near the side of your neck. 

“Y/n. You’ve been staring at that teddy bear for 3 minutes now. Did you not have any as a child, or do you want me to buy it for you that bad? You could just ask, you know.” 

Startled by the proximity of his voice, you turned your head to him and took a few steps away. “Wow, you sure have a talent for being rude. You’re still annoying even when you’re trying to hit on me.” you said trying to seem unaffected. However, you would lie if you said that feeling his breath on your skin didn’t send shivers down your spine. 

He chuckled at your reaction and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“So? Do you want it or not?”

“With that sort of attitude, I shouldn’t even answer. So what if I wanted it, what would you do? There’s nothing between us, so why would you buy it for me?” you taunted. You knew he was trying to make you soften up, but you weren’t falling for it just yet.

“Who said I’d buy it for you? If I did and you ended up sleeping with a stuffed toy every night, that would just be unfair.” he pouted. Why was he acting this cute now? This man was so confusing.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“I don’t wanna be jealous of a teddy bear. I’d rather you would sleep with me instead.”

You stared at his triumphant smile for a few seconds, at a loss for words. He looked like he just made the best pick-up line ever. It was so bad, yet you wanted to accept his wish and take him home. What was wrong with you? 

“You’re absolutely obnoxious, did you know that? Wipe that smirk off your face, you look like an idiot.”

He laughed. “But somehow you’re still putting up with me. I’d say you’re doing a great job enduring me. Unless...you’re actually enjoying my company, which I suspect you do.”

“Yeah, whatever. Come on, I have one more thing to get before I can finally go home and get rid of you.”

You had made up your mind. You weren’t letting any man interfere with your plans.

Walking in the most confident way possible, you entered the lingerie store. You didn’t even spare him a glance as you looked through the pieces, searching for something that would match your taste. You were dying to know what his reaction was, what he was thinking, but you weren’t giving in. Suddenly, you had an idea. Acting like what you were doing was the most normal thing, you picked out two options, pretending you couldn’t decide between them. One was a black see-through set adorned with velvet hearts, while the other was made out of red lace and a bunch of straps that looked like a harness. Either way, both were made more to reveal rather than cover you up. Holding one in each hand, you turned to look at him with an unfazed expression plastered on your face.

“Make yourself useful for once and help me decide. Which one do I get?”

Seeing the way he was looking at you made a flush of heat spread across your face. His eyes were dark and he looked like he would have devoured you right then and there. You didn’t know what you expected, but this look was definitely not it.

He took a few seconds to respond, during which his gaze on you only seemed to intensify. He almost looked angry, clenching his jaw and eyeing you so strongly.

“You’d look great in both, but I’d take the red one.”

Hearing his choice, you immediately hung it back on the rack and took your other option to the cash register. 

You heard him scoff behind you. “Why bother asking me if you were gonna pick that one anyway?”. He was smiling, but it was clear that he was trying to control his frustration. 

You gave him the sweetest smile in the world. “I liked both equally and couldn’t decide, so I’m getting the one you like less. Since you’re never gonna see me wearing it anyway.”

“You drive me insane. That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Really? But you’re the one that’s been following me around all day. Now you’re angry with me, how come?” you said innocently.

He smirked and took a few steps until he was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face, but you didn’t back away and maintained his gaze. His scent was intoxicating, and you were trying your best to not show how into him you were already.

“If you want to make me angry, you’ll have to try harder, babygirl.” you clenched your thighs hearing that word escape his lips. “I like your teasing a little too much, actually. But making me imagine you wearing all these pretty things only to point out that I can’t have you the way I want? I have to admit, that was pretty mean.”

“Are you challenging me? Then I guess I need to step up my game to really get back at you.”

“Alright then, let’s make a deal. If you fail to make me angry by tonight, you have to go on a date with me. What do you say?”

You couldn’t stop the smirk forming on the corner of your lips. “Deal. You know, now I kinda understand why you keep bothering me. It’s actually fun trying to get you annoyed.” This time you weren’t lying.

He smiled back at you. “Glad we’re on the same page about one thing at least. So, any other torturous shopping that we need to do today? An adult store, maybe, since you said you like to take care of things yourself?”

“Nice try. I actually have a table reserved for later today, so I’m gonna have to go home and get ready. I wanted to go alone and have some me-time, but since I don’t plan on losing that challenge, I guess now you gotta come with me.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Wait a second,”he said and put the back of his palm on your forehead as if checking for a fever, “now it sounds like you’re the one asking me out. What happened? Are you okay?” he asked in an overly dramatic way. Oh great, now he was back to being the town circus. 

“It’s not a date, silly. Hopefully, it’s gonna be the worst dinner of your life, so I won’t have to see your face ever again.”

“You do know that I could just not show up and make you lose the bet, right?”

“If you do that, you won’t get my number. So no way to receive your prize.” Besides, you thought to yourself, wasn’t tonight already a date in itself? There was no way he would skip on that, or at least so you hoped. “See you at 6.” you said as you walked away, leaving him behind. 

By now your only desire was to get him totally whipped for you. He might have seen through your intentions already, but you couldn’t care less. The fights and arguments that were real in the beginning had now become an act, some sort of game to see which one of you would give in first. And you weren’t backing down until you had him completely wrapped around your finger. This year’s V-day turned out to be a lot more fun than you initially thought. 

After getting home, you took your sweet time showering and making yourself as pretty as possible. Having drenched yourself in perfume and strawberry scented body lotion, you put on the new lingerie and a red dress that complimented your figure. You did some minimal, but flattering make-up and took a good look in the mirror. You looked good enough to eat. Exactly what you wanted.

By the time you arrived at the restaurant, he was already waiting for you, and you realized he had probably tried just as hard as you to look hot. And he had definitely done a great job. His hair was pushed back and the suit jacket he was wearing highlighted his broad shoulders and tall figure. You wanted him to push you against a wall right then and there.

“Are you sure you’re not made out of sugar? You look so good, I’m afraid that if I touch you, you’d melt under my fingers.”

“You wish. I don’t even get a hi, you start our conversation with a lame pick-up line? This evening is going to be even more boring than I thought.” you said rolling your eyes.

“It’s good to see you again too. Come on, let’s order quickly, I’m starving.” he said as he was already looking through the menu.

After this first exchange, the rest of the dinner actually went on pretty normally. Without realizing, you had gotten comfortable with each other and stopped arguing altogether. Now you were just chatting about whatever came to mind, enjoying your meals and each other’s company. However, you did notice his eyes lingering a little too long on your exposed neck and chest, which you did your best to bring forward as much as you could when you moved around. You were hyper aware of his gaze on every move you made and you loved the attention he was giving you. You felt like you were the only woman in the room for him, the only one that deserved his attention. You suddenly remembered you were supposed to get him angry, but you weren’t sure you didn’t want a second date after all. However, you felt the need to say something about it.

“Look at all these couples enjoying their romantic dinner, and then there’s us. Here for the sole purpose of annoying each other.”

“If that was the purpose, I’d call this an epic fail.” he said with a smile and took a sip of his gin tonic,”So you still don’t want to admit that this is, in fact, a date?”

“Why would it be one, when we haven’t done anything out of the ordinary? We are just two people eating out together.”

“Good thing the evening isn’t over, then. Great choice of restaurant, by the way. But even though the food was amazing, I’d still prefer eating you out.” 

His bluntness caught you off guard, and you let the glass you were previously holding down on the table with a little more force than intended. From the impact, your drink splashed everywhere, including on yourself.

You moved a bit of the fabric of your dress away so you could wipe the martini drops that had just spilled on your chest, which uncovered the strap and the top part of your bra for a few seconds. You didn’t think much of it, but heard him swallow loudly. When you raised your eyes back to meet his, he was looking at you like he wanted to undress you with his eyes.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Did what on purpose?” you asked confused.

“Don’t act so innocent, you know exactly what I’m saying.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, care for dessert? You need some sugar in your system, you seem to be turning grim again.”

“If by dessert you mean you, then I’ll gladly accept. You have enough sugar to keep me up for a long time.” he said with a smirk.

“Oh god, can you cut the disgusting jokes out? You make me sick.” 

“You’ll be even more disappointed to find out they’re not jokes. By the way,” he leaned over the table so he could bring his face a little closer to yours, “we’ve almost finished our drinks and you still haven’t made me angry. Time is ticking.” 

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, and played with your necklace while deep in thought. You were done playing this game. You wanted him, and you wanted him tonight. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but ever since you stepped foot in that place all you had been imagining were his veiny hands all over your body, how pretty his long fingers were and how much you wanted them inside you. He hadn’t even touched you once, but your panties were feeling damp already just by staring at his hands or seeing him clenching his jaw. You hadn’t noticed that your fidgeting with your necklace had caught his attention and he was now practically staring at your boobs without any hint of shame in his eyes. Your chest was heaving up and down as his eyes set your skin ablaze and your thoughts ran wild. Of course his gaze didn’t miss your heavy breathing. His fist was clenched on his glass and the veins on his arm protruded even more than usual. Your brain was so intoxicated with him that it completely forgot how to form sentences, leaving him without a reply. He leaned closer to you over the table and all but whispered.

“Just say the words, and I’ll give you whatever you want. All you have to do is say it.”

You hesitated, questioning whether you should swallow your pride or not. You stared into his deep brown eyes, glistening with lust, and admired his plump, slightly parted lips, silently pleading for you to stop this stupid game and finally admit what you’re feeling for each other. He was done playing, and so were you.

“It’s finally time for those eclairs.” 

A knowing smile spread on his face, as if he had just won the lottery.

The ride to your place was awfully silent. You felt like you could cut the tension in the atmosphere with a knife. Sitting near him in the back of the cab and just feeling his presence so close to you kept your skin burning up during the entire ride. He still hadn't touched you in the slightest, not even on your hand, and at this point you thought it was intentional just so you'd become desperate for him. It was working. It felt like the drive was taking ages, so you decided to have some fun and tease him a little.

You slowly slid your hand over your legs, starting from your knees and going up towards the hem of your dress, pulling it up ever so slightly. He noticed your movements instantly, and his eyes snapped to you. Now that you were assured he was watching, your hand traveled further under your dress, carefully so it doesn't reveal too much, and started running your own fingers across your damp panties.

His eyes widened, and you saw his adam's apple move when he swallowed a lump in his throat. "What do you think you're doing?" he whispered.

"What does it look like to you? I am an independent woman. Since you have not laid a hand on me all day, I'm doing it myself."

"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" you maintained his gaze but didn't stop your actions, slipping a finger underneath your underwear and whimpering ever so quietly, enough for only him to hear. You were determined to bring him down.

Like you had just pressed a button, his body reacted to your sounds faster than expected. The vein on his hand twitched as he quickly grabbed your wrist and held it in place.

"If you don't stop that, I’ll make sure you have trouble walking tomorrow." his words sent a shiver down your spine. With that, he firmly pulled your hand away and intertwined his fingers with yours, as if preventing you from causing more trouble. You decided to obey him, for now.

After a couple of minutes, you were arriving at your place. He followed you silently into the building and into the small elevator, where you were met with another crisis. He looked like he tried really hard to restrain himself as he leaned with his back and head against the mirror. He was looking at you through furrowed brows and hooded eyes, and you wondered why did he put himself through this struggle, when he could’ve had you right then and there. Pretending to check your mascara in the mirror behind him, you placed one hand on his chest and leaned over him, your face dangerously close to his neck, making sure your exposed cleavage pressed against him in the process. You didn’t care how obvious it was, he was clearly enjoying it. He did nothing but watch you, but his sigh and accelerating breath rate were giving him away. As soon as you reached your level, you instantly shot out of the elevator and got to your door in record time. 

The moment you set foot into the apartment and closer the door behind you, any control that you had before, just vanished into thin air. 

“Fucking finally”. He wasted no time in pressing you against the wall, both hands holding the sides of your face while he kissed you with all the pent up frustration from that day. You could feel his whole body onto you and yet you wanted more, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging at it in an attempt to bring him even closer. His lips were soft but aggressive at the same time, the kiss neither too intense nor too slow, earning chills all over your spine the first time his warm tongue entered your mouth. It was still not enough, so you took over and laced your fingers at the back of his head, pulling on his hair while pushing yourself into him. His hands started traveling down your body, gripping your waist and hips with force as he pulled you even closer, making you feel his erection against you in the process. 

Out of breath, you broke the kiss to take a good look at him in this state. He was looking at you through glossy, hooded eyes, with his plump lips parted and glistening from the intensity of your kiss. He looked so hot, you realized you might not make it to the bedroom. 

Closing in the distance once again, his hands went to squeeze your ass through your dress as he started placing wet kisses down the side of your neck, painfully slowly, sending shivers all over your spine. You lifted a leg up to snake around his own, as if to invite his hands to stop wasting time and get under your skirt already.

“You’re surprisingly gentle for someone who’s been trying to get into my pants all day.” you felt him squeeze your ass harder, and he suddenly bit the soft skin under your ear and sucked on it, earning a gasp from you.

He didn’t reply, but instead slid his hand up your thigh and ran his fingers over your soaking panties.

“And you’re surprisingly wet for someone who supposedly hates me.” he teasingly rubbed the tip of his finger on your clothed clit, making you whine in response. It was almost as if the fabric wasn’t there at all, given how thin it was in the first place. “What did you buy this pretty underwear for, just to ruin it later?”

“Since when do you care about my lingerie?”

“I thought you wanted me to, since you brought me with you to that store and even asked for my opinion.” He pushed your panties to the side and properly coated his fingers with your juices. “You were such a dirty little slut for doing that to me.” his words shot straight to your core.

“Me, dirty? That little head of yours has a lot of issues. It’s your own fault for liking me in the first place.” you teased.

Hearing that, he pushed two fingers into your hole and you moaned. “You can talk shit all you want, but your body can’t lie about how much you want me, princess.” He pulled his hand away from your core, and took his own fingers, now coated with your essence, into his mouth, licking them clean. “Now be a good girl and take this dress off for me.” he said, pulling away from you. 

Not wanting to torture yourself any longer, you obeyed him, getting rid of your dress as quickly as possible. As he finally fully saw you in the pretty underwear, he eyed you from head to toe, as if he was looking at his prey, swallowing loudly. “Y/n, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” 

You pushed him back and led him to the couch, making him sit down. You quickly straddled his lap, making sure your boobs were right in his face as you grabbed the hair at the back of his head and brought your mouth to his ear, licking a stripe up from the side of his neck, reaching his earlobe. He shivered under you, and you started unbuttoning his shirt, while both his hands stroked over your boobs, touching your nipples and lightly pinching and twisting them over the thin material of the bra. The sensation was spreading into your entire body, making you moan right into his ear. You nibbled onto his earlobe, and he sighed loudly, grabbing your ass and pulling you on top of his dick, grinding into you. Your fingers ran over his now exposed chest and down to his belt, trying to get it undone. He grabbed your hands and undid it himself, and you stood up so he could get rid of his pants. 

Instead of sitting back on his lap, you dropped to your knees in between his legs and pulled his underwear down. His cock looked so red and hard, it seemed almost painful, and made your mouth water. You wanted to torture him some more though, so you stuck your tongue out and slowly ran it up from the base to his swollen tip, all while looking directly into his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was biting his lower lip so hard, as if to keep him from making any sound. You were going to change that. You swirled your tongue around the tip, collecting the drops of precum, before taking him whole into your mouth. As you started bobbing your head, you made sure to take a little more of him each time, pushing your own limit gradually, looking up at him from time to time. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this. You’re taking me so well.” he said, trying to keep himself from forming any other sounds, and you wondered why wasn’t he letting go already. You wanted to make him a moaning mess. One of your free hands started playing with his balls, as you ran your nails across his thigh with the other one. Going a little deeper, his cock hit the back of your throat, and you paused for a second, swallowing around him, which earned a long, breathy moan from him. There, that was your reward. You continued taking him as deep as you could, looking up at him with wide eyes. This was his breaking point, as he couldn’t control his sounds anymore, his mouth was agape, letting out small grunts and whimpers now and then, and you felt his hips struggling to keep still. As the ache in your pussy was getting unbearable because of your actions, your own hand came to play with your clit to get some sort of release, moaning around his cock. 

He didn’t miss this, as suddenly, his hand flew to your hair and he held you still. “Don’t you dare touch yourself. Get up” he said in a demanding voice. He followed you up himself, and completely slid his shirt and underwear off of him, then laid down on the carpet. “I want you to sit on my face. Let me have my dessert and enjoy you like you deserve.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. After discarding your panties, you placed your knees on either side of his head and carefully lowered your cunt closer to him, but he grabbed your ass and aggressively pulled you onto his mouth, making you gasp and grip the couch beside you for support. The feeling of his wet and warm tongue against you was making your thighs weak. He started by licking a long stripe across your folds, then alternated between sucking at your clit, drawing patterns with his tongue across your sensitive spot at different paces and intensities. Your sounds and whimpers were a mess, and you could feel your orgasm building with each second. He was eating you out like a starved man, face buried completely under your pussy, and the view was only contributing to your arousal. One of his hands snaked up to your nipple and started playing with it, adding to the sensation. When he suddenly applied more pressure to a certain angle, you thought you were gonna lose your mind. “Fuck, h/n, right there, please, don’t stop” was what you wanted to say, but you weren’t sure your words came out coherently. Either way, he got the message, and a few seconds later, you were coming undone on his tongue, letting out a few high-pitched moans as he helped you ride out your high.

After regaining composure, you stood up to let him breathe. His lips and chin were glistening from your juices, and he wiped them off with the back of his hand. “That was delicious. You’re a fucking goddess, did you know that?” he said as he stood himself up, grabbed your face and kissed you with force.

“Just fuck me already.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” he said as he pushed you against your table, having you lie down on it. He quickly grabbed a condom from his jeans and rolled it on his still painfully hard cock. Grabbing your legs and holding them on each side of him, he rubbed the tip of his member over your clit a few times before fully pushing it into your tight hole, swearing in the process. He wasted no time before moving, slowly at first to let you adjust, then suddenly slammed his hips into you with force, earning a loud moan from you. “Fuck, do that again, please” you said, already feeling your second orgasm starting to build up. He thrusted into you harder and deeper, filling the room with your sounds everytime his skin met yours. The way he filled you up was absolutely delicious, clouding your vision and making you lose yourself in your pleasure as he was hitting all the right spots inside you. 

“Ever since your brought me into that store, all I could think of was fucking you in your pretty lingerie, imagining how your boobs would bounce up and down while I pound into you like this.” you took his hand and brought it to your lips, silently asking him to let you suck onto his fingers. “You don’t know how much of a torture that wa- fuck” you took his long and pretty fingers into your mouth and swirled your tongue around them, mimicking the way you sucked him off earlier and watching him lose his ability to speak as his mouth hung open. “H/n, harder, don’t stop, I’m going to come.” you said in a desperate attempt to get him to shut up and concentrate. Motivated by your words, he increased his pace, and after a few more hard and sloppy thrusts, you reached your second orgasm, soon followed by his own. His whole body twitched as he came down from his high, both of you panting, and exhausted.

Pulling out of you, he quickly discarded the condom and took you into his arms to place both you and him comfortably on the couch.

“That was fucking hot” he said, still holding you in his arms while you were catching your breaths. 

“Yeah. I think I might hate you a little less after this.” you said and you both laughed.

After coming back to your senses, you got up and went straight to the kitchen. A few seconds later, you came back holding the box he bought you from the french bakery, handing him an eclair.

“I knew why I saved those chocolate eclairs for later. They taste better after you’ve been craving them all day, don’t you think?”

He just smiled in response. “You might be right. By the way, I won. It seems like you’ll be drinking ice americanos again, after all.”

[onyxheartbeat]

Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,

this is a long post but I must discuss this.

________

I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:

________

“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs.  Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by  an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”

_________

Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville. 

I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.

I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.

Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic. 

I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.

You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.

[ggreactionsandscenarios]

hi can irequest a no.20 for dreamcatcher ot7. Thank you

Dreamcatcher x Reader

Chapitre 1 : Jiu

Prompt n°20 : babysitter

Which one ?

"Seriously mom I'm not a child anymore, I don't need a babysitter !"

"I know you’re not a child but I'm not letting you home alone for a whole week Y/N, I rather have you angry at me than dead."

Your mother sighed as she continued preparing her luggage, your parents were going on a vacation just the two of them for their anniversary. The only problem was that your mom didn't want to let you stay alone at the house.

"Just see this as an opportunity to make new friends, okay ?"

You didn't bother responding, she wasn't listening anymore, her bag under her arm she was already ready to leave.

"So your babysitter is coming tomorrow morning, don't forget to lock the door tonight and unlock it for her to come in the morning. But most of all be nice to her, I'll see you on monday sweety don't be a brat. Bye."

And just like that they were gone, letting you alone for the week. You really hope those vacations won't be horrible and that the babysitter will be cool.

You did enjoyed that lazy afternoon alone sadly it was the first and last of the week because from now on you were going to spend the rest of your holidays with a babysitter.

That's the reason why you were up at 8am and not enjoying the comfort of your bed this morning. As said you had to welcome the new comer and even though you weren't really fond of the idea, you still had manners.

So when that purple hair girl came knocking on your front door you put on a warm smile and opened the door for her to come in.

"Hi, you must be Y/N. I'm Jiu, nice to meet you sweety."

First of all, hold on, where does this girl comes from ? You were actually wondering how in hell could your babysitter be looking that good. As much as you wanted to dislike her, her joyful tone and happy face couldn't go unnoticed.

She was a true beauty indeed but you needed to keep in mind that you were to spend seven days with her and couldn't just look at her like a thirsty dog.

As you had yourself back on track, Jiu was already making pancakes as if she was living there since forever. Not able to say anything you just sat there watching her cook.

From time to time she would look at you and offer you a smile.

“You know, you can come help me rather than stare at me ?”

Say you were embarassed wasn’t even an understatement at this point.

“I’m a terrible cook.”

“That’s only because you didn’t learn from the best. Come here I’ll show you how it’s done.”

You complied after all learning a few things wouldn’t hurt, well that would have been true if you weren’t so clumsy.

“Ouchhh that burn.”

“Oh my god ! Let me look, why on earth did you think it would be okay to take it with your bare hands ? It was literally on the stove few minutes ago Y/N”

Jiu was fast to take your hand and bring you to the sink to put it under cold water. You didn’t know if it was because of how close you were or how she was taking care of you but she somehow was looking even more beautiful right now.

Her brows were furrowed with concern and she was inspecting your hand with the greatest attention. Her hair were falling over her eyes and you couldn’t resist but put it back behind her ear resulting in making her look back at you with a confused face and a slight blush over her cheeks.

You coughed, embarrassed to have done such a thing without thinking.

“Sorry, anyway it’s okay Jiu I think I’ll survive don’t worry about it.” 

It seems like you weren’t the only one to have let your thoughts take control over you, Jiu shaked her head before nooding and withdrawing herself from you a little.

You got the hint and made your way upstairs to your room after lunch, finding some excuse to escape the tense atmosphere that had took place in your kitchen.

Later Minji came get you out of your room, she was feeling slightly guilty for yelling at you earlier. You, on the other hand were too busy overthinking the way you react to being close to the girl to mind the lecture she gave you.

Was that falling at first sight ?

"Hey Y/N, are you alright ? Can I come in ?"

The timid voice of your babysitter made you realise she must have been knocking several times without you noticing.

"Yeah yeah come in."

When she opened the door, Jiu's eyes were avoiding yours, looking everywhere around your room rather than you.

"Jiu.. ?"

She turned to you, she looked like a puppy being scold. Her eyes were glistening waiting for you to snap at her.

"Why are you crying ?"

In no time the sobs indeed escaped her mouth and she rushed to your side. Her head finding the crack of your neck to hide into.

"Don't be mad at me ! I'm sorry for yelling at you, I..I was just worried and you were hurting and.."

"Wow easy there, you thought I was mad at you ? I was never angry, I was embarrassed that's all."

She looked at you from below before clearing her throat. Her cheeks painted in a bright shade of pink.

"Oh.. hehe okay I'll let you alone then, sorry."

She was about to go back downstairs when you had a urge to keep her from doing so. After all you had a week to spend together so you better learn to spend time together without burning your hand or being embarrassed by her closeness.

"Wait ! Do you want to play Uno or something ?"

"Sure !"

You ended up downstairs playing until late, she crushed you at Uno, she was distracting you to be fair or else you would have won.

"I think it's time to head to bed Y/N, it was nice playing with you but I'm leaving early tomorrow."

You were confused.

"Are you going grocery shopping ? I can go with you if you want ?"

It was Jiu's turn to look at you funny.

"I'm leaving tomorrow Y/N, didn't your mom told you ?"

"Told me what ? Where are you going ?"

"I was your babysitter only for today. Your mom decided to choose seven person to take care of you for a week, each one of us having a day to show her what we got. In the end you'll choose the one you like the most."

"What ?! But we were just getting to know each other !"

"I know, but you know if you want to learn more you'll just have to choose me Y/N."

You were already confused by the odd plan your mom put up but the way Jiu whispered that last part in your ear wasn't helping you process anything either.

That night you got to bed decided to choose Jiu whatever happens in the next days. She was one in a million type of girl and you had that huge crush on her by now. There was no way anyone could get to her level.

Hey, as I told you I'm making it a 7 chapter request one for each members. So here is finally Jiu's which keep disappearing from my draft for some reasons. Anyway I hope you like the first one fron the sequel, give feedback 😊-Ael

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Anchor

It’s time for another slice of the first draft of my fan novelization for Our Life: Beginnings and Always! For once, this is a direct continuation of a piece I’ve served up before. Last week we got the hurt portion of hurt/comfort in the moment Family with the snippet I called Adrift. Now it’s time for the comfort half with Cove and Jamie.

As always, thank you for enjoying my writing. Special thanks in particular for the game’s lovely creators @gb-patch for being so sweet and encouraging. You’re all wonderful and you bring me such happiness!

...

It was impossible for Jamie to tell how long she remained staring off into the far horizon, fighting to keep her head above water in the chaotic storm of thoughts she drowned in. She sat with her knees tucked against her chest, her cheek resting across her arms folded on top of them. The wind delicately blew her blue hair to the side, just strong enough to tease her bangs and end of her long braid.

A voice cut through the static screeching inside of her head. Someone was shouting, getting closer. Not even the presence of another person was enough to make Jamie move until she noticed that they were calling her name.

Upon that realization, she recognized the voice as well. She could never, ever mistake his voice for anyone else’s.

Jamie raised her head and turned quickly towards the shouts, her eyes wide. She quickly spotted a silhouette in the darkness where the sand gave way to grass. Even in the dim light, she instantly identified the figure.

Cove.

There was a moment where Cove stood breathless, his eyes fixed on Jamie sitting curled up where the sand met the waves, with the moonlight casting a shadow across her face when she turned towards him. The moment lasted only long enough for him to be sure it was her before he ran to her side.

Confusion and worry drew Jamie to her feet, clearer than anything else in her chaotic mind, and she fully turned to face Cove as he approached. “Cove,” she said, his name shaped with too many emotions to process. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

The question took Cove aback. “No!” He cringed a little at the intensity of his response and tried to calm his racing heart. “Not to me anyway. I wanted to know what happened to you.”

Jamie stared at Cove in confusion, her face blank. Her reaction only made him even more concerned, his grimace creasing into a deep frown.

“Mom told me you stopped by earlier,” he explained, his voice still a little frantic and breathless from his panicked search. “I went to your house to say hi, but your parents said you were gone, that you needed to get away.”

Jamie said nothing. She heard him clearly, yet failed to understand what about that alarmed him so much. She was fine.

It was her family who weren’t okay.

Cove only felt his worries grow the longer Jamie failed to respond or even show any emotion. Normally, she was so expressive that it was easy for him to tell how she was feeling, but now her face was a tense, blank mask that offered him nothing.

Nothing about all this was normal, and it was starting to get to Cove.

“I mean…,” he continued, pressing on despite the oppressive stillness of his best friend. “I had to think something was going on after something like that, so I came to find you.” His aquamarine eyes looked into hers - those normally captivating night blue eyes were so uncharacteristically dim, devoid of their usual sparkle and joy whenever they were together.

The look in Jamie’s eyes terrified Cove.

The silence stretched on, a heavy weight oppressing both of them. Finally, Jamie took a breath and wet her lips, tasting the salt in the air as she struggled to answer Cove’s concern, to reassure him and explain what had happened without making things worse for him.

“I…”

Even forcing out one word alone was a struggle for Jamie, but Cove was patient, willing to wait for her to speak. Her gaze dropped to the sand, unable to bear the worry in his eyes anymore as she fought for words. It was too loud inside her head, the static scraping away words she wanted to say with intrusive ones she never wanted to admit to anyone. There had been so much she had wanted to tell him earlier, but now there was too much.

Finally, Jamie managed to try again. “There’s a lot…” Her voice petered off, the words dissolving from her mind before more than a handful could leave her tight throat. She skewed her eyes shut. “Elizabeth… my parents…!”

She choked on the words, a hand moving up to cover her mouth as she tasted bile. The action urged Cove to take a step closer to her.

“Is everything okay?” Cove asked reflexively, even though the answer was obvious, as he placed a hand on Jamie’s shoulder.

The touch was warm, solid. It was a stark contrast to how disconnected Jamie felt from the rest of the world. She closed her eyes and focused on Cove’s hand, his closeness, his concern.

Cove cared.

Cove always cared about her, what she thought, and what she felt. He never judged her, never pushed her. Ever since they met, he was always there, so kind and mindful of her. He was her anchor grounding her when the waters turned turbulent and threatened to wash her away.

Jamie placed her hand on top of Cove’s, drawing strength from him as she always did.

“Thank you,” she eventually managed to say, her shaky voice barely more than a whisper as she lowered her head. “Thank you for coming…” She lifted her gaze, but could only reach as far as his worried frown; she couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Cove’s brow furrowed even more as he only grew increasingly concerned, not as much by the words themselves but by the way Jamie said them. She sounded so… broken.

Despite his mounting fears, he held himself back from voicing his worries further, wanting to give her the chance to continue on her own.

Jamie closed her eyes and took another breath, giving the hand on her shoulder a small squeeze. It was hard for her to speak, to know where to begin, but the fact that Cove was with her now made things a little easier somehow. With his help, she would figure out what to do about Elizabeth, her moms, and…

And just like that the feelings she had been holding back surged forth like a tsunami and overtook her.

“My parents are dead!”

Cove froze at the weakly delivered outburst as it sent a shock through him. He couldn’t move, except for his mouth which fell open, but he was unable to do anything further as he stared at Jamie.

That wasn’t what Jamie had been intending to say, not at all.

For a moment, Jamie stuttered, scrambling to recover mentally, knowing she had to clear up the confusion she had just caused. “M-my biological ones… from before my moms… before they adopted me.” The explanation started as a trickle that only grew stronger, more emotional with each word, like water pouring from a crack in a dam that was only growing wider as more spilled free. “They died when I was a baby. Moms didn’t say how. Maybe they don’t know. But there wasn’t any other family I could live with. So that… that’s why I… why I g-got a-ado-adopte-”

Cove had heard more than enough. He closed the distance between them, pulling Jamie into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” he murmured, his warm breath ghosting across her shoulder. The comforting words delivered with such gentleness pierced right through her.

The warmth was familiar and comforting. It felt so right to Jamie, yet she stood frozen as Cove enveloped her securely in his arms. They were so close that his voice rumbled through her pleasantly when he spoke, creating small tremors that ran through her. In another situation this would be heaven. But this wasn’t right. She wasn’t the one who needed to be comforted right now. It was her sister and moms who needed it far more than she did.

“You… you don’t ha-have to do this,” she said, barely managing to force the words out, her voice cracking at the edges.

Cove rested his head against Jamie’s, his cheek brushing against hers. He refused to let her go. “Yes I do.”

He sounded so sure, yet for some reason that fact made Jamie begin to shake. Finally she could move, her trembling hands reaching up - to draw him closer or push him away was unclear - but her fingers hooked into his shirt at his sides near his back, the hold on the fabric so tight her already pale knuckles turned white.

“I… I-I’m o-oka…”

The lie was too big for Jamie to finish forcing it from her throat. She choked on it, her voice catching and quaking until it turned into a wail of anguish that racked her body. All of her denials and barriers broke then, and she crushed her body into Cove’s until there wasn’t even room for air between them. The tears she didn’t know that she had been fighting all this time gushed forth without restraint, spilling onto her best friend’s skin as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.

Cove held Jamie even tighter, as close as he could without hurting her, his eyes growing watery as well. Although they were of equal height, she felt so small in his arms just then. Her body shook almost violently against him from the force of her sobs, the sounds rending his heart in two.

Cove said nothing while Jamie cried, merely listening to the wails she made that almost formed words at times. It was painful to hear just how much she was hurting, but he didn’t falter. He would do nothing else but hold her until she was done bleeding out all of the poison tainting her heart.

It took time for the night to grow still again, save for the constant rhythm of the waves and the breathing of the two teens as they held each other on the shore. Eventually, however, the flood of tears slowed to a trickle, and then finally stopped when Jamie had no more left to shed. Her energy bled away along with much of the tension in her body, leaving her standing more by virtue of Cove holding her up than the strength of her own legs, her once firm grip limp, but still hanging on desperately.

When Cove noticed, he took great care to guide Jamie back down onto the sand. The position they sat in was close, with Jamie practically in Cove’s lap. Under normal circumstances, such intimate closeness would have left him a blushing mess fighting the urge to bolt like a frightened deer, but he didn’t even think about it now. The only thing he focused on was keeping her close to him.

Cove sat for a little while longer with Jamie cradled in his arms, until he was sure that she might be ready to talk. He didn’t release his grip on her, but shifted just a little, trying to catch a glimpse of her face to better see whatever expression she was wearing now without widening the distance between them.

Jamie looked exhausted, worn, but not as worryingly tense as before.

When Cove spoke again, it was delicate and deliberate. “Can you explain everything to me?”

For a moment, Jamie just breathed deep, the sound rough and hitching occasionally. Finally, she managed the strength to lift her head and face Cove. Her red-rimmed dark blue eyes met his, but only for a second before she had to look away. She nodded slowly before taking in a heavy breath and letting it out slow and shaky.

The actual event hadn’t actually been that long, but the telling took Jamie a while in stops and starts. Cove listened attentively, only nodding where appropriate or taking in a sharp inhale when words almost escaped him. He only spoke again when he was sure she was finished speaking, at least for now.

“Jamie,” Cove said, his voice trembling with heartache for his closest friend. He faltered, wanting so badly to say whatever it took to somehow make her feel better, but words alone felt inadequate. “I’m really sorry about what happened to your parents. So, so sorry…”

Jamie being adopted was something Cove learned early on after meeting her, but its importance never truly sank in for him. He never felt comfortable about prying into it, relating the loss of her original parents to losing his mom for a while due to the divorce, and the distance that had grown between them since.

Although things had gotten better for him, it would never get better between Jamie and her birth parents.

Cove tried to find the words to say more, but nothing came. He could only take in deep, shaky breaths as he struggled for something to tell her that might help heal her broken heart. It was frustrating. He hated feeling so helpless, especially when his best friend needed him.

Jamie barely acknowledged Cove beyond a slight nod of her head as she looked off at some point in the distance, not really seeing anything. She found more words to say before he could. “I had no idea it was so important to Elizabeth,” she said, her voice rough from all her crying. “She was so upset and angry even before our moms told her about her biological parents… and after they did she just…” She had to pause for a moment to take in a shaky breath before letting out slowly. “I mean… I thought about mine too, sometimes, but it’s not because I wanted to know who they were.”

Jamie made a vague motion with her hand before limply dropping it back onto Cove’s arm. “I sorta just figured either they wanted me or they didn’t, and if they didn’t, they weren’t worth thinking about. If they did…”

Closing her eyes, Jamie paused to take a deep shuddering breath before shaking her head. “I didn’t want to know if they did,” she confessed in a whisper, guilt dripping from every word. “I didn’t want to ask, but when Elizabeth did… when my moms asked me… how could I not?” Her eyes went to Cove, her expression almost desperate and only relaxing a little when she saw him nod in understanding.

“But I guess… they did want me,” Jamie said haltingly, the words coming out weak and fragile as she closed her eyes. “There were people who… l-loved me. And I can’t love them back. Ever. I can never love them like they probably loved me because they died, and I can’t remember anything about them. They’re strangers. They’ll always be strangers to me, even if they did have me. I’ll never get to know them and love them like my moms or Elizabeth or Lee and… and… and I just wish they didn’t and that they just threw me away and abandoned me because they didn’t want me like I always told myself they did so I wouldn’t feel guilty about not caring about them and being happy without them! Isn’t that awful?!”

It was hard for Cove to keep silent. He bit into the inside of his cheek to fight the urge to speak before Jamie was done unburdening herself. He only moved to gently pry her fingers from her braid as she started yanking on it at some point during her rant. It was only when she stopped, panting as though she had just been running, her dark blue eyes wild and desperate and looking right through him, that he spoke again.

“Jamie,” Cove said, drawing her attention back to him and away from that dark pit inside herself. His voice cracked as he struggled to keep himself together; he needed to be strong, for Jamie’s sake. “You’re not doing anything wrong. You know that, right?”

The emotions playing across Jamie’s face were too complex for Cove to understand, but he suspected that they were also too much for her to truly understand them either.

Cove took great care in choosing his words, which made them come out slower than usual, almost stilted. “I think you can be as sad as you want, for as long as you need. Or you can feel about it whenever you want, too. It’s okay for you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

It was a struggle for him, as his words felt woefully inadequate in the face of such dark thoughts as the ones Jamie laid bare before him. He was completely out of his depth here. Even comparing her situation with her birth parents to his own parents didn’t help him really relate; it just made him shudder at the idea of how he would react if one or both of them died.

Adding on the complicated feelings of never knowing them or loving them like he did was just…

Cove had to take a moment to breathe, exhaling deeply as he ran a hand through his hair and let his gaze drift to the ocean. The sight of it was soothing, which he desperately needed right now.

With another sigh, Cove shifted his gaze back to Jamie, meeting her intense stare with a look of sympathy and reassurance. He at least took solace in the fact that she was looking at him now and not lost inside her own head again. Even if he couldn’t really relate to what she was going through, that didn’t stop him from empathizing with the obvious guilt she held towards her own complicated feelings, or understanding how easy it was for dark thoughts to spiral out of control.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…,” Cove continued at last. “Whatever you feel about it is how you feel about it, and that’s okay. You don’t have to force yourself to be different.” He managed a faint smile, as he recalled what Jamie told him at the beginning of summer when he confided in her about his complicated feelings about his mother coming to stay. “There’s nothing wrong with how you’re feeling about all this. It doesn’t make you a bad person. No one would ever think badly about you for feeling this way about something like this.”

He sounded so sure, Jamie couldn’t help but believe him. It was strange how Cove had the power to do that, to be able to hold such pure faith in her that there was no room left for doubt. It was effortless for him to slip past her barriers, denials, and twisted up confusing feelings to reach her heart directly, always with a touch so delicate it wouldn’t disturb foam on the water.

Bit by bit, Jamie felt the knot in her chest loosen, and she found herself relaxing against Cove as she let his heartfelt words settle in. Instead of the static of broken thoughts, she listened to the familiar rhythm of waves meeting the shore, and the slow, steady breaths of her best friend by her ear. Her eyes drifted closed and took a moment to simply breathe.

Finally, Jamie started to see things in a new light.

When Jamie opened her eyes again, she was quickly lost in Cove’s aquamarine eyes that somehow seemed to glow in the moonlight as they focused only on her. The way the moon made his eyes shine so bright despite the darkness of night was one of the first things she noticed about him on the night they met. Although those enchanting eyes held sadness like they did that night, they were also overflowing with affection for her.

Cove always saw her so clearly, all of her, both the good and the bad. He could see her like no one else.

Although Jamie thought she had cried out all her tears before, a couple more beaded up in her eyes before slowly trickling down her face. Despite their presence, she managed a weak but genuine smile. Somehow, Cove always found a way to give her exactly what she needed the most. “Thank you, Cove.”

The tension wrapped around Cove eased a little as well, as he watched the light slowly return to Jamie’s eyes, and he returned her delicate smile with a comforting one of his own.

“You know,” he continued carefully, “Elizabeth and I haven't ever been super close, but… I don’t think she’d want her family to break up, or drift apart.” He paused for a moment to offer a weak attempt at a wry smile. “Even if she complains about it sometimes.”

Jamie let out a breath that was almost a laugh, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards a little higher, and Cove took that as a victory.

His expression softened as he continued. “And your moms definitely don’t. It doesn’t matter if you’re not blood related, you’re definitely family.” He reached up to gently brush away the stray tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “I can see that… and I hope you can too.”

Jamie leaned into the touch, her eyelids dipping, but she didn’t want to stop looking into Cove’s ocean blue eyes. They were so bright and clear, able to see her with such sincerity. She could feel his reassurance in the way he looked at her, the certainty he held that despite everything she was going through, she and her family were going to be okay.

As his tender words and caring heart wrapped around her like a warm blanket, Jamie felt herself growing a little more certain as well. Cove was right - she didn’t have to apologize for how she felt, or even make excuses for it.

She didn’t have to deny how she felt either, not even to herself.

As the pain slowly receded like the tide, Jamie felt her almost overwhelming affection for Cove flow in to take its place. Mere words couldn’t express how grateful she was that he was here to support her, that despite seeing what she believed was such an ugly part of her, he accepted it and helped her see that it wasn’t as terrible as she convinced herself it was.

More than anything else in this world, Jamie knew that she could count on Cove to be there when she needed him.

Jamie no longer felt the need to hold herself back from fully accepting the comfort Cove offered her. She snuggled in closer, drawing her arms around his torso as she nuzzled her cheek against his. Being close to him, touching him, hugging him - it was always a soothing balm no matter how easily he could send her heart fluttering out of control. There was nothing more right in this world than being in his arms.

Although Cove started to become aware of their intimate position, it was a mercifully distant concern when compared to everything else that merely quickened his pulse. Not even his nervous crush on her could compare to the relief he felt knowing that his best friend was finally starting to feel better. He returned her affectionate gesture, brushing his cheek against hers, feeling her soft warmth and breathing in the faint smell of ocean and flowers that was distinctly Jamie. Despite how anxious he felt at times being so close to her, he couldn’t help but feel content holding her like this.

The two remained like that a while longer, neither inclined to separate now that the silence between them had softened into something comforting and familiar. For a while they simply sat together on the sand, idly watching the ocean as it reflected countless stars and the moon above.

[a-pretty-nerd]

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 9

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word count: 2,756

Warnings: Cursing

A/N:

Oh dear lord I'm slow at getting these out. Life's been kickin' my ass lately. But thank you to everyone who's been giving me feedback on my stuff, I really love to hear from you guys!

Taglist: 

(So sorry, I forgot when I originally posted!) 

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff

@witch-o-memes​

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

Two months. You've been "missing" for two months now. The days flew by, your time occupied by quirk training Shigaraki insisted on but never told you why. The times you tried to ask he'd brush it off, or say something like:

"So you don’t throw another fit." His words were harsh but he said them with a flat and bored tone. Like it was a poorly acted line.

So now you had better control. You could move things on command, you knew basic combat, you certainly knew how to kick Dabi's ass by now, that didn't take too long. You were being allowed more and more freedom. Even allowed to leave for a convenience store runs with Toga once or twice. No one policed you, told you what you could and could not do anymore. You could have easily ran away by now. You supposed they really didn't need you either. For their plan to work all they would need was some blood and Toga could easily pass as you.

That idea sent a shiver down your spine. You're sure Shigaraki has thought of that already, so why hadn't he? Why was he training you? Would he use your quirk against the heroes in some way? Was he grooming you to turn and fight your father? You wouldn't. No matter what you wouldn't fight your father. Would you? You shook yourself of this thought as you walked down the ally to the back door of the hide out.

Toga unlocked the door and you stepped in, greeted by a dark and dingy back room. You made your way through the dark halls, following closely behind her as she led you up the stairs that finally led to the parts of the building with power. Soon you found yourself walking to the familiar living space where a few people rested. Dabi laid himself out on one of the couches, Spinner sat fiddling with his burner phone, and Twice had started yelling at the TV before you arrived.

"Luuuunch!" Toga shouted. Toga was often used as the errand girl, she brought back necessary supplies, oftentimes food. Today Toga asked you to tag along and help out, and there wasn't a single objection to the hostage going out on the town. You sat the heavy bags down on the coffee table, taking out the contents as you spoke.

"Where are the others?" You asked.

"Mr. Compress was sent on an errand of his own. And Shigaraki's probably pouting in his room. He'll come out when he's hungry." Dabi groaned as he took his meal from your hand.

"Oh. I'll just bring it to him." You said, absent-minded. All eyes turned to you, looking confused and shocked. "What?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just-"

"He doesn't like to be disturbed." Toga and Twice spoke. You paused and looked at the box in your hand. It would get cold if he didn't eat soon, and besides, none of you had had much to eat lately, you were sure he was hungry. You knew you were.

"I'll just leave it at the door and knock. It'll get cold and then he'll be in an even worse mood." You told them. They watched you turn and walk up the stairs to his "room". You stood in front of the door, with such thin walls you could hear furious typing on the other side. Loud clicking of a mouse, and the sound of a computer's fan. You took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door. Suddenly the sounds abruptly stopped, followed by a bark.

"What!?"

"Foods here." You called back. You heard footsteps on the other side growing louder and louder until the door flew open. You stared up at the tall man as he looked down on you. His hair hung over his face, his eyes hardly visible. Your heart rate quickened the longer you looked at him. What the hell is wrong with you?

"Give it to me." He held out his hand, his pinky holding out in preparation to receive the box.

"You said you liked spice stuff, right?" You asked as you placed it in his hand.

"Yeah."

"We got you their spicy special. I hope it's not too much. The sign said 'caution' on it." He scoffed at you, turning the box and looking at the writing on it. He fell very quiet. Inspecting the box, you suddenly worried that something was wrong with it. That maybe you'd messed up somehow. But before your anxiety could reach its peak-

"Thank you." His voice was low and soft. You could hardly hear him. Then before you could respond he closed the door and left you alone again. Did he really say that? You never heard him say that to anyone. Granted, you hardly knew him but still, the way he said it, it made you feel... special in some way. You shook yourself from your train of thought and shuffled down the hallway, pausing when you heard movement and the door to Shigaraki's room open. You froze.

"Wait a minute." He barked. You turned too look at him. He hung out of the doorway to stare at you.

"W-What?" You asked. Shigaraki had a way of making people feel like they were in trouble. His ability to easily become an authority figure was something you were beginning to understand now.

"You...went out?" You nodded. He paused and looked away, his eyes shifting as the gears spun in his head. He turned back into his room as he spoke, "come here for a second." He asked. You slowly made your way to his room, the door left wide for you to peak inside. A dark room lit by portable light fixtures and a laptop computer which sat on an old desk. A cot thrown to the corner covered by the same old and tattered blankets the rest of you had.

"Am I... in trouble?" You croaked.

"What? No. Close the door behind you, you'll let in a draft." He ordered, seeming genuinely confused by your question. You closed the door behind you, leaving you completely alone with him in his space. Your heart raced.

You watched him turn and look up at the wall which he had decorated with plans. Pictures of heroes and villains cut out and pinned. Newspaper clippings, printed out articles and research essays. He was planning something, but what it was was difficult to determine. You did notice however, a cut out of an empty figure with your name on it pinned to the center of it all. You stared at it for a second before he broke you from your train of thought.

"Well?"

"Huh!?"

"What do you think?" He asked. His attention turned to his meal, he picked at it, taking a few bites.

"Of what?"

"...the plan." You looked back at the wall, puzzled you tried your best to gain any sort of information from it. Only being able to find bits and pieces. You knew it involved you, your father, and the take down of hero society. A cut out piece of article said something about the rise of villains, that more and more people were turning to villain work. How those rates have a correlation with classes. You slowly turned back to look at him.

"I'm sorry you're gonna have to explain this to me." You told him. He rolled his eyes and stood, directing his attention to his work as he spoke.

"This is the second part of the plan."

"What was the first?"

"Taking you as a hostage."

"Right. But, didn't you say the plan was to expose the heroes after they weren't able to rescue me and not only expose the faulty heroes but also my father as a neglectful and flawed individual not worthy of the hero title?" He paused.

"Yes."

"But that didn't go as planned."

"....."

"Didn't you say something about making a video to broadcast outing myself as All Might's daughter and causing panic? What happened to that plan?"

"It became leverage. If they attempt to come for you, then we'll go with that. But if we do that now, they'll come for you now and we'll be forced to fight."

"Isn't a fight...a good thing? You'd get news coverage and You'd no doubt gain supporters."

"Normally it would. But a fight isn't what we need right now. The heroes have us surrounded. If we make any move at all, we're in their hands. We won't be able to win."

"Not even with your quirk? Couldn't you-"

"Not with everyone here. As strong as I've gotten, I'm not strong enough to keep them from getting swept up and dusted too."

"Right."

"We're in a tight spot. One wrong move and we'll be wiped out."

"What about your supporters? Couldn't you get help from the outside."

"I could, but the heroes would see it coming. They have our signal tapped. Any sort of communication has to be verbal or written."

"Homing pigeon?" You offered. It made him smirk.

"Right now we're like a fox trapped in its own hole by hunters."

"So... we dig?" That made him smile, wide.

"Dig. If we could smuggle ourselves out of the city, we could reach a clear spot where we can call for backup to get us."

"Why not send one person to smuggle themselves out? Toga could easily disguise herself and leave."

"They have a barrier."

"What?"

"Part of the city is closed off until further notice. They know exactly where we are. If one gets out, they won't hesitate to come for all of us. We all have to get out at once and they can't notice until it's too late."

"But how the hell are you gonna do that?" His smile widened. He looked truly excited and happy. For the first time you saw your capture seem truly excited about something.

"We have a few secret recruits in the city. Spies." He turned his attention back to his meal box, reaching in to pull out the inner box that held the food, to reveal a piece of paper sitting underneath in the flimsy take out box. "I didn't know they were letting you out of the base now." He spoke as he opened and read the note within the box.

"I thought, you knew. I thought you were the one that said I could. Dabi said it was fine." He read the note and stood to pin it up on the wall before speaking.

"I've been too busy with this to worry about you. You shouldn't believe everything that Dabi says. I told him to make sure you just don't have another episode and cause a scene before we leave. I thought assigning him babysitting duty would keep him busy." He chuckled. "There's just one thing I don't understand." He turned back to you. "Why didn't you leave?"

"I...I..."

"You had the opportunity, but you're still here. Why?" You froze. Why? Why didn't you run?

"I was scared I'd be killed." You lied. He laughed at you.

"Don't lie to me. You lost that fear a long time ago. You know that's not true. If I wanted you dead I would have killed you a long time ago."

"You've kept me alive to use me as bate. To, to expose the truth." You argued.

"With Toga, we wouldn't need to." You swallowed hard. You knew he had thought about this.

"I'll tell you why I stayed, if you tell me why you've been training me." He scoffed.

"To keep you busy, to keep you from having another episode."

"That doesn't make sense. You could have drugged me, killed me, you said it yourself. But you kept me alive, you kept me busy. You could have kept me on my meds, unable to use it at all but you insisted I learn my quirk. You trained me yourself. Why?" His smile faded and his expression became dark.

"I asked you first." He growled. You looked away from him and thought for a moment before gaining the strength to answer. You knew the truth for a while now. You never wanted to say it out loud. You refused to look at him as you spoke.

"I don't wanna go back. But you probably already knew that by now. You just wanted to hear me say it, huh?" His smirk returned.

"Had a hunch." He snickered.

"Now you answer me."

"Why don't you wanna go back?"

"We had a deal. Answer my question now." You barked at him. It took him a long pause. A full minute of waiting in silence felt like agony.

"I thought it would help you feel better." He muttered in a surprisingly husky tone. "Keep you from asking me to dust you again." That's right, during your episode...

"I'm sorry." You blurted.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I... I asked you to kill me." You hid your face from him. He shifted and crossed his arms across his chest.

"It's not a big deal, I dust people all the time."

"No, I know. But like, I can't imagine being asked to by someone having a fucking break down happens all the time too. I kinda...kinda put you in a shitty position." When you looked up, he looked confused. Comically so. "What?"

"I took you hostage." He reminded you. You couldn't help but chuckle, that made him more confused.

"Shit, yeah, you're right. Guess I shouldn't be so hard on myself huh?" He looked away. "Still. My intentions weren't to upset you."

"You didn't upset me."

"It seems like I upset you." You toyed. His guard was down, he was vulnerable, and allowing you to be there.

"Shut up. You didn't answer my other question!" He shouted in an almost playful tone. You couldn't help but smile, only to have it slowly fade as you thought about your second answer.

"I don't want to go back because..." you stopped, the words getting stuck in your throat. You were unable to speak. He looked down at you, waiting for an answer. He seemed almost relaxed. He seemed normal. Like a normal guy leaning against the wall of his bedroom with his arms folded across his chest. Your eyes wandered up to his scarred neck, bright red scabs forming. Inflamed and fresh. He had recently scratched at it again, clearly in an upset state too. When he blinked you got a clear view of the scarring around his eyes.

"Boss!" A familiar voice shouted from outside the door. "Boss!" Before you could move the door was thrown open, Spinner's wide eyes finding you standing there. He shook his confusion loose before turning back to Shigaraki who quickly changed his position to attention. "Come quick!"

You followed him back to the living space where the old television sat. The news playing loudly as everyone gathered around to watch in panic. Swat teams and heroes decorated the screen as shot after shot showed them surrounding your building. Fear ran from your toes to your head, making you feel nauseous and dizzy. Shit. Shit. Shit. They're here for you. But you...you weren't ready to leave. And what about-

"Not again! - We can take 'em'!" Twice shouted at it like a sport was playing.

"Tomura, what are we going to do!?" Toga asked, frantically bobbing up and down in panic. He watched the TV intently listening in.

"After receiving a tip from an anonymous source, police and heroes found missing tourist Y/L/N Y/N being held captive by The League of Villains in this abandoned office building. Officials are working now to safely rescue the hostage."

Suddenly a loud voice was heard both on TV and through the halls of the building.

"League of Villains. We have you surrounded. Please let Y/L/N go and no one will be hurt." A cop shouted through a megaphone.

"C'mon Shigaraki, what's the plan?" Dabi asked, clearly starting to get uncomfortable. Before Shigaraki could respond, you spoke.

"Well, looks like this is it for me." You began walking away, only to be stopped by a strong, four-fingered grip pulling you back.

"Where do you think you're going!?" He growled.

"The jig is up, Shigaraki! Let me go! I'm not useful anymore. All they want is me, if I'm out of your hair you'll be able to escape easier." His grip tightened, pulling you closer as his red eyes bore into yours.

"So long as you're here they won't dare make a move. You're still my most valuable player. You're staying right here."

[thenextchapter22]

Angel of the Three Realms

Part 8!! The Last Chapter!!

Description: You were an Angel who went to the human world to escape punishment for loving Lucifer only to be brought back into his life, this time in the Devildom where you pretend to be human.

In this chapter: THE FINAL BATTLE! DUN DUN DUN!

Tags: Unrequited Love, Fluff, Angst, Wingfic, Angel!Reader

Pairing(s): Lucifer/Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Link to my AO3: Click Here

Authors Note: Thank you everyone who followed along with this story, or just joined! I loved writing this so much and I really hope you had a good time reading. Please let me know what your final thoughts are and reblog, like, comment. I honestly did not expect to write this much of this story but yeah I had a good time and I’ll be writing more of this Reader in the future, so be on the lookout for more~ <3 <3

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

_+_

There was something to be said about finding true happiness. It was hard to see a future where you would have such a thing. What was true happiness, though? Each person had to have their own idea of what it was.

For you, it was several little things in one. It was being with these Demons born of Sin, and the Angels, and Solomon, in the Devildom where you were given a home. They all made you a better person. A better Angel, if you were still technically one. You still never knew for sure.

The thing was, as a Human you were basically made into a role model. The Humans had no clue what you were or had been, but they flocked to you as if you knew everything and how to make it better. It was a human instinct, you supposed, as if their souls immediately knew they were in the presence of someone different than who they were.

Despite that, you never took advantage. You moved as if you were one of them, lived as one, but just a little better, to make their lives better. Especially the children who needed you.

You had lived as Human, and an Angel before that, and were now living as a Demon in an odd way. And everywhere there was something different, a hint of danger at school or even traversing the halls in HOL. You had adventures that were unimaginable, entered video games and small worlds, and solved dozens of puzzles that made even Lord Diavolo’s world a better one.

You worked with them, not above them. The change was a welcome one.

Of course, it would be better if you had the courage to be with Lucifer and admit your feelings, but it took this long for you to realize that was just something you’d drag with you forever. You would have to get used to it. The stages of grief it seemed applied to one sided love as well.

And somehow, you had found Acceptance.        

“BEEL!! STOP!!” Mammon shouted.

Pulled from your deep thinking, you turned to see Beel attempting to eat all of the bread for the sandwiches you were making for a picnic outing. It was decided a few days ago, and the three demons in the kitchen with you were Beel, Mammon, and Satan. They were supposed to be helping, but that was okay. You were sure that Lucifer would pop in soon and make sure they did their part.

“Beel, stop that,” you sighed.

He looked at you with a loaf of bread halfway in his mouth. A big chomp later, bread totally gone, and he shrugged. “Sorry. Tastes good.”

You giggled. He was so straightforward as usual. “It’ll be better with the meat and cheeses.”

He licked his lips. “Mmm…. Cheese… meat…”

Mammon leaned over the counter top and rolled his eyes. “Ch. Glad I got extra at the store.”

Satan scoffed. “I’m surprised you even went to the store and bought the bread. Probably stole someone’s wallet, though.”

Mammon narrowed his eyes at Satan. “At least I did something for the picnic! What did you do, huh?”

Satan raised a brow. He crossed his legs in his seat, and pointed at the basket. “That’s my basket.”

“Yeah, where you stuffed a bunch of kittens the other day. You’re lucky Lucifer didn’t see that. There better not be any hair in the food either!”

Sometimes, it was best to let them argue. You just went on making the sandwiches, smiling. It was just the three of them in the kitchen, but everyone was going to come to the picnic, even the Demon Lord and Barbatos, and Simeon, Solomon, and Luke. All parties would bring food, and it was going to be a feast and a really good time.

Yes, this was bliss. You could honestly not have a better day than this. You kept humming as you built the sandwiches—

Boom!

The entire house shook with reverberations and you held the counter to stay steady. The glasses clanked in the kitchen for a second and then nothing, like something extremely large fell. How strange, you thought. There had never been an Earthquake in the Devildom before.

“What was that?”

Everyone opened their mouths to respond back when there was a chill in the air. It made all bodies in the room shiver, with no draft, but an invisible force. Something had clearly made itself known, and it was a foreboding, cold presence coming from outside. Strong, and large… Was it the Demon King, back again? What else could that have been?

Sandwiches forgotten, everyone went to see what was going on. Lucifer met up with the four of you as you went outside, and then the others came as well one by one as you walked to the front door. They looked extremely apprehensive.

The sky was an orange hue when they opened the door. They all went in front, protective of you, which touched you deeply. You couldn’t see anything but the sky for a moment, then you heard everyone gasp and stiffen up. What had happened?

You pushed your way through their rigid bodies to find out, and froze on the top step of the house.

Standing there, in the lawn, was Michael… and an army of Angels. There had to be almost a hundred of them. All in battle gear, stern-faced, wings out and dipped in gold at the tips to cut. A true sign of War. But Michael, he was standing tall, wings folded neatly behind, and sword on hip.

“Michael,” you whispered.

How? Why? This wasn’t possible.

Lucifer transformed in seconds into his demon form. He stepped down and stood before Michael, who looked pissed off. The energy clashing between them was unhinged. If it was seeable, it would be like looking into the Eye of a Storm.

The eldest brother nearly growled, “How did you get here, Michael?”

Michael grinned. He looked mad. “I used a transportation spell.”

“There is not…” Lucifer’s eyes widened, taken aback. “You used that spell?”

The Angel gestured behind himself, and tilted his head slightly. “My followers will give themselves to my cause, and some will even give their lives. This particular one gave his to create the portal. A willing subject, and an entire Angel’s body and blood. Easy spell, easily made portal to the Devildom.”

You knew of the spell. It was a Forbidden one. He had basically killed an Angel. His own kin, forced to commit suicide to create a portal to come here, for what reason?

This was madness. This was a nightmare you had to wake up from now. Michael was someone you left in the past, he had no access to you here, or to your family. Yet he wormed his way here just has he had when he made that spell and went to the Human world to force everyone to forget you.

“Why?”

All eyes turned to you, and you realized you spoke that aloud. You really didn’t want the attention on you, but this was your chance. And so, you continued to speak, albeit a little shaky while looking at Michael. “Why did you do this, to me, to my friends?”

Michael sighed like it inconvenienced him to have that asked. “I really don’t care much to explain it, but considering you are about to meet your end, I’ll give a short explanation. So cliché, you really are not the brightest Angel are you? But then again, are you even an Angel, without a Halo?” He grinned.

Lucifer’s aura flickered in anger. “Get on with it.”

You took note of the others. They had transformed as well, and surrounded you in a half circle behind you and on each side, while Lucifer was the one between you and Michael. A shield of demons.

Michael stepped forward, and waved his hands as he spoke, glancing around at everyone, all the while Lucifer’s eyes followed his every move as he did this. “Several hundred centuries ago, I had my personal seer glimpse into the future of my world. All was well, I was leader of an Army, and Father was proud. Then the vision she had altered, and it revealed the Three Realms connected together in ‘harmony’. Angels and Humans side by side, Demons and Angels as friends… Revolting. Obviously I did not like what she foretold so I decided to make some changes.”

When Michael paused, he turned to stare at you. His golden eyes burning into your own. “And you. You, blessed to be created of Angel blood… turned to complete scum. You, who fled from Heaven to escape the sin chasing so steadfast behind her.” He scoffed, mocking you. “You lived as a Human, pretending to be one of Father’s creations, and still maintained the immortality He somehow let you keep? And then you had the nerve to live with Demons, my own Fallen brethren, to bring ‘peace’ to the Realms when Heaven is clearly above all?”

His armor glinted as he tilted towards you, and he narrowed his eyes. “You are the reason I am here today to cleanse the universe of your immortal and foul souls.”

Your throat clenched in fear. He sounded more evil than the Demons you had surrounding you, so set in his plan to eradicate. You panicked, shaking hands and body, and felt a few hands touch you, comforting you. They calmed you a little, and you re focused back on Michael who was not yet done speaking.

“So after planning for years, I made my spell, and used it on you as soon as you landed on the Surface world. But then seeing this idiotic program ‘Lord’ Diavolo came up with and you being accepted into it? Well, that changed things again. So this is the only way to stop the Three Realms aligning.”

You swallowed hard. “War?” you asked nervously. It was a wasted question, you knew the reply he would make.

He grinned, and patted his long sword in its holster on his side. “War. Death. The end of you and these Avatars of Sin.”

He looked out at the demon brothers and seemed sincerely disgusted with them. “The Fallen. The lowest of low. You all deserve what’s coming to you.” After his jabs at them, Michael turned to you. He smiled, a false kindness in his eyes. “Did you tell him why you left? Your unholy feelings?”

You turned pale. “Michael, no—please.” Begging to someone who seemed to be a psychopath was probably not going to work, but you did have to try.

Michael grinned, flashing teeth like a shark about to bite. He looked at Lucifer, who was darkened with infernal magic slithering all around his body. “She loves you, Lucy. She’s madly in love with you.”

The chill that spread through you was unlike anything you’d felt before. This was all you had been avoiding: the utter heartbreak of Lucifer saying he did not feel the same. And Michael, the little shit, had unleashed this terror in you. It was chained up in you for so long now, covered in dust, and unsteady as it was free. Free to tear your heart up. The love you hid was in open waters, and Lucifer, he was going to hurt you more than you’d ever been hurt before. Physical pain would be nothing compared to this.

You shut your eyes, braced yourself, and readied for it.

“I love her as well.”

…. What?

There were stunned gasps around you, and a few claps. They didn’t matter.

You swallowed dryly, and dared to open your eyes to look at the Avatar of Pride. His body faced Michael, about 10 feet between them. But his head turned back to you, and his red eyes blazed. His perfect lips turned up, and he smiled at you.

“Truly?” you spoke softly, scared to hear a reply.

There was sadness then, in the downturn of his brow, but he kept a minuscule smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, my dove. I had no idea you felt this way. If I wasn’t such an idiot Demon…” he paused, “I would have admitted my feelings sooner than this.”

For Lucifer to call himself and idiot, that was a lot for his Pride.

You shook your head. Your hands clutched together at your chest, and you so desperately wanted to hold his gloved hands. Feel his winged embrace. “I was foolish, too. I should have just told you how I felt back then in the Celestial Realm.”

“We’re both fools, then. Together.”

You wanted to laugh and cry, because he was so right. It took a moment like this, and Michael of all people, to speak of the love you held for him.

Before you had the chance to say more, there was a streak of blue heading towards you: an arrow lit with Heavenly fire.

Lucifer spread his wings and was a dark blur as he jumped to you and shoved you away from it. You hit the grass on your back, Lucifer on his knees and one hand at your head. It made you dizzy for a moment, but you took a deep breath and shook it off.

Then, it was chaos all around. Lucifer barely had a second to look at you before he was focused on Michael. Mammon took his place standing above you, and pulled you back to your fortress of protective Demons quick as lightning.

“Stay here.”

You nodded at the second eldest. “Yes.”

You had no experience with Celestial/Demonic Wars. You left far before the one that had Lucifer and his brothers Falling from Heaven. You did have a few Human wars, but those were all literal pitchforks and fire and you stayed out of that sort of thing, only assisting in helping the wounded.

Your fortress had been broken soon, with only a couple brothers staying with you in order to fight the other Angels. Belphie on one side with Beel, and Asmo on the other, a sort of triangle around you.

The only thing you could do was watch in horror as they fought. And for several minutes you did this. There were Angels on the House grounds, slain. Throats gleaming with blood, lifeless eyes opened and frightening. Feathers falling all around like false snow. The sounds of swords clinging, and of wings flapping. Arrows flew, some tried to get you but you protectors were fast and snapped them in pieces or hit them away with a burst of magic.

Mammon was quick, and Levi was fierce. Satan was his namesake, full of Wrath. They were unstoppable, knocking down Angels left and right. They killed, marred, and snapped necks. It was brutal. It was War.

There was no surprise when Simeon and Luke showed up with Solomon, and there was no time to explain what was going on, but it was clear to them who to fight. Luke, of course, took shelter with you, and you held his hand as he hid his face in your side. He was a baby compared to the others, and you didn’t want him to see the blood bath that was currently happening.

Solomon, in full Sorcerer garb, chanted spell after spell. Barriers of magic flew around, entrapping Angels or sending them through portals. You happened to see into one, and it burned with flames so bright you had to blink for several seconds to get the flickering fires out of your vision.

Simeon flew above you with Lucifer, and they surrounded Michael. He used his magic and fought, but Simeon and Lucifer had their own and it clashed together. Michael also used his sword, but Lucifer’s Infernal magic wouldn’t let the sword hit, pushing it back. The Angel roared, pissed, and slammed his body into Simeon.

You cried out as they fell together in a tumble, fists and magic fighting together. They pushed each other apart seconds before they hit the ground. Simeon’s face had blood on it, and your heart pounded, he was like a father to you, he took great care of you. The mere sight of him injured was making you weak.

Lucifer was above Michael, and he dove down with a quick burst of his four dark wings to slam his fists to Michael’s head. But the Angel was fast, too, and was gone, and Lucifer landed in an empty space.

It was in mere seconds what happened next. Michael flew to Simeon low on the ground, gliding over the grass, and pushed him so hard in his chest that he landed far away with a loud thud.

Several seconds passed. Simeon did not get up.

You fell to your knees, and bawled. “Please, no, no, no—not Simeon, please,” you sobbed.

Luke panicked in your arms, and begged to see, to go help him. You would not let him go. He struggled in your embrace, and you realized you clutched him like a child would a teddy bear. But it was for his own good.

Asmodeus put his hand on your head, and smiled down at you. “He’s okay, I promise. I can still feel him. It’s weak but there, his heart beat.”

“You can?” you asked. You focused, and it was a small force. But it would grow, Simeon was a strong Angel. Michael had only knocked him out it seemed.

You sighed in relief. This was too much. You felt so useless, and at the mercy of whatever Michael and his Army wanted. Battle was not in your blood.

“Michael!” A large booming voice echoed the area.

Lord Diavolo and Barbatos had arrived through a portal. The Demon Lord was in full form, and fierce looking. Battle ready with his gold jewelry and buff body, he was strong and powerful in energy.

Barbatos was also prepared. His usual butler attire missing for armor of the same colors. His tail was flickering about, and you watched the forked tail closely, it dripped with something acidic looking.

Lord Diavolo spoke directly at Michael. “You have no right to be here. Surrender now, or face the ultimate consequence.”

“Even in the end, you try to be diplomatic.” Michael laughed. “No, I will not surrender. Angels, continue fighting, we will kill all the unholy and unworthy!”

They all cheered, and the fight went on with viciousness.

Diavolo scoffed. He was royally pissed, you could see, and his face was full of calm rage. He was going to kill Michael.

You wanted it, too. You wanted Michael dead and gone. After what he had done, and caused, he honestly deserved it. And this was what the Devildom made you, wasn’t it? But was it so wrong, to want revenge? These Angels came to kill, they should expect it in return.

The Demon Lord and Lucifer battled Michael. It was insane to say that Michael was formidable against them both, but he had prepared for a long time for this. He moved like a fluid force, and attacked with sudden jabs. He got nothing on Diavolo or Lucifer, and they did not hit him. It was all offensive hits or bursts of magic, but then the other side used great defensive moves. Watching it was nerve-wrecking, and a bit difficult as they were so fast in the air, wings and magic flying all over.

On the ground, Solomon, Barbatos and the other brothers fought the remaining Angels. You looked around and saw a few trying to leave, no doubt to kill other demons aside from them.

You pointed to one, and shouted, “They’re escaping!”

Barbatos was there in seconds, and he grabbed the Angel’s neck and held him still, and his tail went through his chest. He fell down, dead, yellow poison and red blood mixed with body parts escaping the gaping hole.

You almost threw up, and took a deep breath.

“Please, I want to see Simeon,” Luke begged.

“I’m sorry Luke, not now. I promise you he’s okay…”

Luke cried. He clung to you, and shook.

In the moment, Belphie’s tail whipped out and blocked a sword from getting to you, and it wrapped around the sword to fling it at the Angel who used it. You thanked him with a nod, and he had never looked so awake before.

All around you, you noticed the Angel’s numbers diminishing. It was down to maybe 25-30 of them. The lawn was an absolute disaster, in terms of body count. So many dead Angels, it made your stomach ache. This was not what was meant to be. If they just left you alone, they would be alive. If they didn’t try to kill Demons, they wouldn’t be killed by them themselves.

“This is the end for you, Lucifer!” Michael shouted into the sky.

No, not Lucifer.

You searched for him, and found him in Michaels grasp in the sky. How, you were not sure. You had been too busy watching the terror around you on the ground, you didn’t watch what was above you. He was held by his throat, and Michael had his a sword at it. The sight had your eyes watering, and your chest throbbing. This was not happening. This could not be happening.

Lord Diavolo was not longer there, where had he gone? You looked for him, and found him herding a pack of Angels back. He was supposed to help protect Lucifer, help get Michael, but he did have an entire land to protect…

So now… now you had to help.

You handed Luke to Beel, the Gluttony Avatar taking him in his arms like a babe, and he frowned. You said nothing. Wings burst out from your back, and tore part of your shirt. That was fine. You felt something building in you, something made from the sight of seeing your beloved hurt, something protective but more. A magic that was blinding, and used all of your influence, and soared up to the sky. Straight into Michael.

The Angel was not expecting that, and his sword was knocked out of his hand, falling to the grass below. Lucifer fell, too, but you saw Mammon catch him.

The Magic gathered inside of you, swirling. You held Michael as he did Lucifer, by the throat. He thrashed and bat his wings, but you ignored the pain, the gashes he created. Your eyes burned white, your hands burned the same shade, and you let everything just… go.

Wings turned from white to bright blue and gold, shimmering waves of magic surrounded you. What was this power? Unimaginable power, to keep Lucifer safe, keep your family safe. You had to end this. There was one way to end it all.

Could you kill? Did you have the strength, not in magic, but heart, to kill your brother? Even after what he did to you?

Michael, killed by your hand…

“Don’t do it,” a whispered voice called out.

You tilted your head, lost in the influence of this almost static-flame magic. Listening for more from the soft deep voice calling to you.

“You have the power to, but you must not. He will be punished, that I promise.”

This voice, it had been so long.

“…Father?”

Michael was still struggling in your hands. You looked around, and everyone was watching you. The battle had paused, pending what you would do next. Lucifer was looking at you, full of Pride and awe. He smiled, and the just nodded once, firm and sure. He wasn’t telling you to kill, you realized. Did he hear the voice, too?

So, using this magic you gained, you did not kill Michael. Despite all that anger and sadness, you simply put him to sleep. And let him fall about 20 feet to the ground, but still… he lived.

Lord Diavolo was there, and he and Barbatos took him. The remaining Angels, 12 of them, were put in chains and taken away.

You landed on the ground, and let out a breath. With that, the power you suddenly had was gone. With a single inhale and exhale, you were just… you.

The battle was done. Blood was everywhere, dead Angels, fallen weaponry, a stunning amount of feathers. Simeon was awake, and Luke looked him over with worry. You were overjoyed to see him sitting up at all, and smiling.

Drained. That was what you were. Sleep would be nice. Soon, you would pass out, and in time forget these terrible images of bloody battle.

But first, Lucifer.

He was being tended to by Solomon. Sitting on the front steps of the House, huffing and shrugging away from help. Pride, definitely. Adorable, even more so.

When he saw you, he almost stood up. Instead, you fell into him, and held tight. “I’m so happy you’re okay,” you exhaled shakily.

He hummed, his wings encompassing you, though he did wince. “Darling, you are incredible. I love you so much.”

You sniffled. Leaning back, knees between knees, you held his face in your hands. Searching his eyes, watching the glow in them, in his powerful gaze that commanded so much on a daily basis.

And you kissed him. Nothing crazy, a peck really, but it was all you ever needed or wanted. His lips were worn from battle, a little salty from the blood, but warm. A sigh, and you pulled away.

His hands wrapped around your waist and he tugged you in again for one more, and you smiled so wide that your teeth clanked. He chuckled. “You’re so sweet, my dove. So perfect.”

Your wings ruffled from praise. “You’re perfect.” He pinched your side, and you squeaked. “Hey!”

He laughed. “I must tell you something…”

“Okay,” you said, confused. You pressed your face into his chest, taking a moment to hear his heart beating.

“The reason I fell… there were quite a few, honestly. Though, I must admit, part of the reason I Fell at all, was because there was no you to stop me.”

You froze. “Luci…”

He pat your head, and you both sighed. “We can speak later on that. For now, I think we should clean our wounds.”

He was right. But sitting here was like being in your own personal bubble. Still, there would be more moments later, and you would kiss and cuddle him until he could take no more of it.

After the battle, you found out Simeon had taken Michael back to Heaven along with the other Angels, Diavolo opening up an old portal that could only be used if both sides allowed and it lead to the celestial realm. There was no telling what would become of them, but you knew your fellow Angels would take care of what needed to be done.

_+_

The picnic did not happen for obvious reasons. Everyone got cleaned up, bandaged and whatnot. Then helped dispose of the Angel bodies, which was very unpleasant and heartbreaking. You threw up once, and Lucifer directed you to sit down and let them take care of the rest. You were grateful for that.

Then, everyone went to rest in their own space, with the promise of talking at another time. You waved goodbye to the others and wished them well. Simeon most of all, after taking such a hit. He said he was fine, but you knew he was being his usual self.

You went with Lucifer to his room. He gave you a pair of soft sleep pants, and one of his tank tops (the fact that he owned one was shocking). He put his pajamas on, a pair of silk pants and a silk shirt, unbuttoned to reveal his collar. Then you went into his bed, under the blankets, and snuggled close. Your legs tangled with his, and your hips slotted together. Nothing sexual came of this, you were both far too exhausted from what just happened, and you both had a few scrapes that would take days to heal up as well.

He pulled you close to him, and kissed your cheek. “Sweetheart, I want you to know that I am sorry.”

“Why?” you yawned, pressing your head to his chest, feeling his warm skin.

“My Pride kept me from talking to you. Once my memories of you returned, I desperately wanted to confess, but feared it was too late. I assume you thought the same.”

You blushed. “Yeah… I only just recently accepted that you wouldn’t love me that way.”

His arms tightened around your waist, and his fingers pressed into your hips. It was a good pressure, letting you know he was there. “I so hate that you felt that. But I need to hear you say the words. If I wait any longer I don’t know what I’ll do.”

You smiled. Such a stern softy, you thought. You tilted your head upward, and he moved back a bit on the pillow to see your face. The words had never been easier to say. “I love you, Lucifer.”

He cupped your cheek, and pressed his forehead to your own. He inhaled, and sighed. “My sweet dove, I cannot wait to ruin you.” You squirmed and whimpered at his deep tone, knowing exactly what he meant by that. “But for now, we shall sleep only.”

He kissed you once, and then rearranged you to him, folded neatly in his arms, cocooned into him. “I love you.”

The words made your head heavy. Still, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that you were a virgin. Well, it will come up eventually, you supposed. Or maybe he knew and just didn’t care.

Yawning again, you let the thoughts drift away into dreams, trying not to think about the death that occurred mere hours ago. Instead, you imagined future happier times with Lucifer at your side.

_+_

Pure white greeted you, as well as pure emptiness all around. But it wasn’t bright or blinding, it just was.

“My darling daughter.”

You gasped. “Father? Is that you?” you glanced around from where you stood, and tried to see him.

“I am proud of you.”

You wanted to cry. “You are?”

“Very much. I heard your prayers always. I’m sorry for not answering, but I did not want to misdirect you on your true path. You’re so strong, and if you ever really needed me I would have been there.” He paused. “The original spell, my dear, was broken by me.”

“You—you did that?” When your wings were freed, you assumed that was why the spell broke.

“I could no longer see you suffer. Simeon’s informant was directed to him by me as well. I was always there for you, my daughter, and always will be.”

“Are you… you knew I would leave, didn’t you? And you still let me keep my immortality?”

He laughed. “Yes, I knew. I always know when my children need to follow a different path than the one I set for them. I will always love them, despite their change in faith. That’s just what being a father is, loving their child unconditionally.”

You realized he meant Lucifer and his brothers.

But you had to ask one thing, “Where is Michael?”

“Michael is being punished as we speak. I have locked him in a room where he will reflect for all time on what he has done. His so called Army will be given the same punishment. I was sad to see so many of my children perish, but they made their choices.”

You felt the same pain he did, then. Your fellow Angels, so many dead. But Father was right, the choices they made set this path for them, and it ended in bloodshed and death.

Then he shocked you with what he said next.

“I will also be allowing Angels to love who they wish, only if it does not affect Humanity. You have changed me, my dear, and that is a feat not so easy. I created Humans as a reflection of myself, and my Angels to keep watch over the world, to aid in their growth. For all that you did to aid Humanity on its path to good, I will grant you one favor. What do you desire most of all?”

This was too easy. You smiled at the blank space ahead of you. “I only want to be happy, with Lucifer and his brothers, and Simeon Solomon, and Luke, and Barb and Diavolo. I want to be together and bond with them all. They are my family.”

“You shall have your wish. And, my daughter, know that I love you very much, and I wish you and Lucifer all the happiness in the universe.”

_+_

“Darling, wake up.”

You shuffled closer to the warmth around you, and heard Lucifer chuckle. You opened your eyes to see him sitting up in his bed, hair ruffled and eyes sleepy, and he smiled down at you. This is what would greet you in the morning, you realized. It was incredible, having him so close, so intimately holding you.

You remembered the dream, speaking with Father. That he was the one to release you from your bindings, and release everyone from Michaels hold. The truth that he still loved Lucifer, and his brothers. You knew that Lucifer had different feelings about Father, and that was something very different in the both of you, but you would work past that. Because you loved each other.

Just that same day, mere hours before the Angels came to destroy them, you had thought of Acceptance. Accepting the fact that this would never be. That living this life, without him, was just going to have to be your true happiness. You still had the brothers, and him, just not in the way you wished.

You reached a hand up to press to Lucifer’s cheek. He leaned into the touch, and kissed your palm, holding his own hand against yours to keep it there.

“G’ morning, Luci…”

Yeah, screw acceptance, you thought, and leaned up to kiss him.

[iamtheblondestblonde]

The Clark Kent Effect

Part Two

AN: Here’s part two!! Since the cat is out of the bag now, please go listen to my ex’s best friend by MGK, which was my first inspiration for this story and is the song I always have in mind when working on it. I loved hearing everyone’s opinion on the first part so please keep it up, it really motivates me a lot to see that people actually appreciate my writing. I hope this is living up to everyone’s expectations.. I’m sure everyone has already figured out that there will be angst in this one. 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: none (a first for me)

Part One

My other writing can be found here

When Tito had made you promise to stay in touch you’d thought nothing of it. It was something lots of people said every day without having any real intentions of ever keeping their promise. A trait especially prominent among Americans as you’d come to realize. How many times had some of your colleagues mentioned that you definitely had to make dinner plans together sometime only for that sometime to never come? And while Tito wasn’t an American by all means, living among them tended to force a fast adaptation.

So to say you were surprised when he reached out to you a couple of days later would be a big fat understatement. You’d thought of him from time to time since Halloween, reminiscing what once was but also thinking about what could’ve been with a certain dark haired friend of his if it weren’t for the connection between the two of them.

You’d checked your phone during a trip to the bathroom, waiting on an update on the current office drama from Emily – as the personal assistant she had the inside scoop on one of the chief editors who had apparently managed to knock up one of the models – when you saw the Instagram notification.

@titobeauvi91 wants to send you a message

For a second you were wondering why he was sending you a message on Instagram instead of a text before you realized that neither of you probably still had the same phone number from when you were 18. You’d definitely switched to an American phone number in time with your move and he’d be stupid if he hadn’t done the same thing, especially considering how much longer he’d lived here than you.

For him to go out of his way to dig up your Instagram profile only so he could send you a message really spoke volumes for his character. Your grandma had been right when she’d said that he was going to make someone very happy some day but although she’d had you by his side in mind at that point, you liked to think that it was still going to be true with someone else.

You accepted the request without thinking twice about it and then had to read his messages multiple times to make sure you were seeing correctly.

@titobeauvi91: Would it be totally weird to meet up for coffee together sometime?

In your wildest dreams you never would’ve imagined your ex willingly asking you to spend time with him. But perhaps it didn’t surprise you as much as it should. 

Yes, breaking up with him had hurt a lot, but it had also been a long time ago and it wasn’t like either of you were at fault for your time together coming to an end back then. You couldn’t blame him for his dream coming true after all. The fact that he’d always planned on leaving was no secret, it had only been a matter of time. So when those feeling had shifted from friendship to something more you’d known how things would end but still fell for him. And you’d had an amazing time with him because of it. And then some not so amazing time without him afterwards.

Some of your girlfriends in college had gone through break ups at the same time but you could never really relate to them sobbing in the living room with ice cream and alcohol to help soothe the pain. Your sadness had been more subtle. It was things like wanting to call him whenever something newsworthy happened in your life, missing his comforting hugs and wanting to hear his laugh again that made you feel like a part of your life was missing.

But you’d always been a fan of clean cuts so you’d never allowed yourself to reach out to him, tempting as it was. You had instead focused on building yourself a new life, one without him and without even realizing it your daydreams of conversations with him came to an end. At last you had reached the stage of acceptance. Now, as you stared at your screen you realized that the cut had been made and the edges had already healed, the possibility of something new, or rather something old, but very much something different hanging up in the air above the gap now.

What would you do?

You didn’t respond right away, waiting until your lunch break finally arrived so you could ask Emily for advice. That meant that you would have to fill her in on some things she had no idea of and she definitely wouldn’t be happy about having been left in the dark, but you really had no other choice.

The two of you met up at your usual salad bar around the corner from the office building, a not only convenient but also very delicious place. She’d shown it to you back in the days of your internship and when you’d reconnected after you finally got the job after graduating it had somehow become your regular spot for a shared lunch.

She was the first to make it today, which was rather unusual since her boss liked to give her some last minute errands to run, but you weren’t going to complain about the steaming mug of coffee already waiting for you on the table at your arrival.

“Alright, start talking girl”, she said in lieu of a greeting while you settled into your seat, referencing the text you’d sent earlier about needing some advice. So you did, telling her everything about your relationship with Tito back in 2015 and how the two of you had mutually broken it off after he got drafted. How weird it had been to not only lose your boyfriend, but also best friend at the same time. By the time you reached the more recent part of your story, the one involving Mat in the club, your lunch had arrived and you had to take a quick break so you could actually get some eating done instead of talking.

“Shit I’m so sorry for interrupting your moment back then, I didn’t even realize you were talking to someone. But I also can’t believe I’m only now hearing of all this drama!”

You waved her off, already knowing full well that she hadn’t intended to do so. “That’s because there wasn’t any drama up until a week ago, but now I don’t know what to do. Would it be weird for me to grab a coffee with my ex?”

“Well.. if you say it like that…”, she trailed off jokingly, jabbing her fork in your direction before continuing, “I’m just kidding. You guys were friends before all of that happened so no, I don’t think it’d be weird. But it’s ultimately your decision, do you want him back in your life?”

“I think so, yeah.”

-

Meeting up for coffee had somehow turned into meeting for lunch and slowly but surely Tito managed to secure himself a spot in your favorite contacts again. Seeing him in daylight for the first time after all these years had been weird and it had been obvious that the two of you were very nervous about rekindling again but it didn’t take long until you fell back into your old routine.

Pre-relationship, of course.

He’d make flirty comments from time to time and complimented you often, but you knew not to dwell on it for too long because he’d always been that way. You knew his mother well enough to know that she would be pissed if it were otherwise, you’d heard her chide her son in French for his bad manners more times than you could count when the two of you were younger.

Since you’d mostly seen him one-on-one you didn’t have to deal with any of the complications that stemmed from him being a part of your life again but it seemed like your reprieve was coming to an end. You knew that Tito was just trying to be nice when he’d invited you and your friends to meet up with some of the team at a bar after their game, hopefully celebrating a win but definitely celebrating having the day off afterwards before having to leave for a short trip, but you were having mixed feelings about the entire thing.

It wasn’t like you didn’t want to go, in fact you could use a good night out and some fun, but you knew full well that Mat would be there as well and you had no idea how you were supposed to interact with him. You’d anticipated having to face him again of course, but if it were up to you you’d do it rather later than sooner, especially now since you were close with his best friend again. Tito was no help of course, you couldn’t exactly tell him that you were having unholy thoughts about one of his close friends.

Because that was the truth, Mat Barzal had been on your mind ever since that one faithful night which was now weeks ago. It was ridiculous really, how one guy had managed to infiltrate your thoughts from such a short interaction. He’d only really spoken one sentence to you before your plans and hopes for the night had been crushed and yet you kept seeing him in every guy with glasses that passed by you. Kept hearing him in every booming laugh. 

You should be ashamed of yourself, really, for how easily he’d managed to put you under his spell. Still your thoughts kept wandering back to that little bubble you had shared with him on that dance floor, still remembering how nothing else had mattered in that moment. It wasn’t just lust that had attracted you to him that faithful night, though it certainly played a part in it, but you could tell that there was something more, or at least a possibility of something more.

But you couldn’t have him, a fact that had become blatantly obvious during your time spent with Tito. You were sure that he was interested in you like that at all anymore, but you were also convinced that he still wouldn’t be a fan of you going after his friends. You didn’t want to drive a wedge between the two of them, especially having learnt how important Mat was to Tito since getting reacquainted, something that would be inevitable once the ‘Bro Code’ was violated.

You had to keep your mind, and your hands, away from Mat.

Which proved to be harder than one might think.

You’d donned your favorite overknee-boots for the night out, loving the height boost they gave you, and paired them with a plaid skirt and a cute top, adding a warm pea coat so you wouldn’t freeze too much in the cold winter air. You’d long mastered dancing the line between sexy and sophisticated and if you were being honest, you were quite proud of tonight’s look.

It hadn’t been hard to convince your closest friends to come out along with you, all of them excited for a night out with New York’s finest. Since the guys had a game to play however, the lot of you met up at your place beforehand so you could pre-game a little and save some money in turn. You’d put on the game for background noise and by the time the final buzzer sounded you were definitely also buzzed thanks to Emily and her dangerous ability of funneling alcohol down your throat. The uber ride was short thankfully, the car was pretty packed with the four of you after all and yet you had somehow managed to arrive at the bar Tito had texted you before the team.

“They probably got held up in interviews and stuff, should we get some drinks while we wait?” Your suggestion was apparently a very welcome one so Dana and you made your way over to the bar while the other two set on finding a booth where you could sit down. By the time you had everyone’s drinks they’d managed to secure a place towards the back and you were more than happy to slide in next to Emily.

You were the first one to spot Tito, getting up and excitedly waving him over. They all sported big happy grins, most likely due to the victory over the Leafs earlier. Letting your eyes wander over your group you noticed that Mat wasn’t with them but you didn’t dwell on it too much, instead focusing on congratulating Tito on his two goals. Introductions were quick and in your state of mind you’d forgotten half of the names already but that didn’t stop you from having a good time. 

The group of guys that had sat in the booth next to yours had recognized the hockey players and willingly cleared the table for them after congratulating on a great game and taking some pictures, which was a pretty nice bonus. Mat had apparently forgotten to bring a change of clothes and had to make a detour to his apartment so he wouldn’t have to come to a bar in his game day suit.

All this liquid had taken it’s toll on your bladder though so it didn’t take long until you got up to make a trip to the restroom, telling Emily to stay put when she made a move to come along with you. There would probably be no long line in a bar like this so you could do without company and you also didn’t want to interrupt her conversation with Tito, whom she was asking all kinds of questions about teenage you. Maybe you would regret that later on, Tito was more than willing to give her ammo to roast you for the next few years but right now you didn’t care, just happy that everyone got along so well.

Walking without swaying proved to be more difficult than anticipated, you’d somehow consumed more alcohol than you’d thought and you made a mental note to grab some water afterwards as you pushed through the doors. Once they were shut behind you the music wasn’t as loud anymore and for the first time tonight you could actually hear yourself think, not distracted by noises. Of course your thoughts wandered to Mat, and the reason for his absence tonight.

Were they telling the truth earlier or was he avoiding you?

Unfortunately, this was a question you couldn’t find an answer to and even if you did, there was nothing you could do about it. What you could do however, was get back outside to your friends and have a great time tonight. Without Mat. You checked your notifications on your phone while quietly singing along to the song blasting over the speakers as you made your way out of the restroom, not looking up as you walked.

And then collided with something solid.

With a gasp you quickly grasped on to whatever you could reach so you wouldn’t tumble over and the only reason you knew you hadn’t managed to run into a wall was because strong arms immediately wrapped around you to steady you. Walls didn’t have arms, that much you knew, even in your intoxicated state.

“We really have to stop meeting this way”, a familiar voice sounded above you and your eyes involuntarily snapped up to meet his. Just like last time everything else stopped mattering as soon as you looked up to him, wrapped safely in his arms with your hands splayed on his chest, your phone still clutched tightly in your left one. His gaze made your brain short-circuit so you really couldn’t be held accountable for your next actions.

“I don’t know, I kind of like it”, you hummed while brushing your free hand across his chest and up to his shoulder. You could feel the firmness of his muscles underneath the fabric of his shirt and how his heart picked up its pace at your actions. He pulled you in even tighter and readjusted the position of his hands on your back, one of them now caressing the thin sliver of exposed skin between your top and the skirt, the movement burning itself into your memory.

Your bubble burst when there was an uproar near the bar, a group of guys yelling at a re-run of some football game on the TV responsible for the intrusion. As soon as you realized what you were doing you awkwardly cleared your throat and stepped out of his embrace, his arms dropping from your body immediately. The spot where his hands had rested only seconds ago was now cold as ice in their absence, shivers running up your spine. All of a sudden you wished you had your coat with you so you could wrap yourself up in it, maybe even hide a little from the intense look in his eyes and the rest of the world as well.

Mat seemed to snap out of his spell as well, quickly looking around to check if anyone had seen the two of you with a panicked expression on his face but you were well hidden from your friends, who were sat around a corner. You couldn’t help but feel like a dirty little secret then, something that hurt more than you liked to admit, despite his actions probably being the right thing. If anyone had seen you right now you’d definitely have some explaining to do. So instead you focused on feeling anything but hurt to mask your true feelings.

“Ashamed of being seen with me, Barzal?”, you asked in a flat tone, deliberately choosing to address him with his last name so he knew that you weren’t exactly pleased with him right now. Your words caused the intended effect and he looked like you’d slapped him across the face.

“Don’t be like this, please. You have to know where I’m coming from”, he sighs with a desperate expression, taking a moment to himself to gather his thoughts before continuing, “I have a moment with this girl in a club, a girl that somehow manages to put me under her spell in less than five seconds, and then I have to find out she’s the infamous Y/N, the first love of my best friend.”

His admission left you speechless, unable to form any kind of response as you stared up at him, watching him run his hand through his hair. Oh how you wished you could do the same.

“I know all about you, you broke his heart back then”, he continued and you flinched, not having expected this of all things.

“That’s not fair and you know it. He was the one who left!”, you hadn’t even noticed you’d raised your voice until the group of people in the booth closest to you turned towards you so you took a deep breath before continuing, “I was the one who had to stay back and listen to everyone talking about him.”

“He talked about you as well, you know. When we met at World’s he told me one night how he knew that your relationship would be over soon and how much he missed you already. He knew you’d walk out of his life without looking back. And then you did exactly that.” You closed your eyes at his words, never having heard of the situation from Tito’s standpoint. It didn’t exactly help that it was coming from Mat as well.

“You have no idea how excited he was to finally see you again. I had to listen to him talk about asking you out to lunch for days.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear that had fallen into your eyes but you hadn’t even noticed until now, too busy staring at the beautiful specimen of a man in front of you.

“It’s not like that. We’re just friends now.”

“I know, but you weren’t back then”, and with that he dropped his hand again. He smiled softly at you but it was obvious that it didn’t reach his eyes, his sad expression overpowering everything else.

Perhaps this was the universe’s way of saying that you couldn’t have two great guys in your life, that you’d missed out on your chance already. You couldn’t think of any other way to explain this cruel twist of faith otherwise. You wished you could go back to the club, but you didn’t know if you wanted to relive those few blissful moments before everything came crashing down or prevent yourself from stumbling into him altogether. The second option would certainly make everything easier.

But since time traveling wasn’t an option yet you were forced to stand in front of him, thoughts of what could have been running through your mind. Right now he was so close to you but there could’ve been kilometers between the two of you and it still wouldn’t have made a difference.

You knew that and you could tell that Mat did as well, the defeat clearly written on his face and telling you everything you needed to know. At least you weren’t the only one who suffered.

With one last look he moved past you and towards the restrooms, probably his destination all along until he’d run into you. Or more like until you’d run into him, literally. In a split second you decided that you didn’t want your interaction to end quite like this.

“Hey, Barzal?” You didn’t like calling him by his last name one bit and it definitely felt wrong, but perhaps it would allow you to keep the distance you desperately needed.

“Yeah?” You could’ve sworn that a glimmer of hope crossed his face as he turned back towards you but perhaps it was just the shitty light in the bar playing tricks on your mind. Or wishful thinking.

“Good game earlier. Two points is very impressive and I’m sure you made lots of people very proud tonight.”

“Thank you.” 

This time his smile was genuine.

Tagging: @itrocksmysocks​ @nazdaddy @teenagekook

[jaybear1701]

Pam can only stare wide-eyed at Ellen, wondering if she’s in a dream.

There’s no moon dust or space suits or a vast expanse of stars. And yet, somehow, Ellen standing in her classroom--nervous and expectant and achingly beautiful in gray slacks and a simple white blouse--feels even more surreal. She can’t bring herself to speak, afraid that if she makes an attempt, Ellen will vanish and Pam will once again wake up alone in the darkness of her bedroom.

“I’m sorry for showing up out of the blue like this,” Ellen breaks the silence. “But I was hoping we could talk?”

Pam’s lips part, but for someone who prides herself on her ability to capture the right words and construct them into the perfect turn of phrase, she’s still speechless. Each resounding thud against her ribs pumps out conflicting emotions into her buzzing bloodstream, surprise and confusion, elation and dread.

“Pam?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Somehow, Pam strings together a coherent sentence, her voice scratchy and low.

Ellen’s shoulders droop. “You know that’s not true.” She takes a tentative step closer, treating Pam like some skittish animal ready to bolt, which honestly isn’t too far from the truth. “Please, just five minutes.”

“I don’t really have time--”

“Five minutes,” Ellen repeats, firmer. “Hear me out, and then you’ll never have to see me again if you don’t want to.”

Self-preservation demands that Pam refuses. In the long run, it’d be better for them both to sever ties, clean and fast, without dragging things out. But she can’t, not with the way Ellen’s imploring her with those disarming brown eyes. Her heart won’t let her.

“Fine,” Pam acquiesces. “Five minutes. But not here.”

“Okay,” Ellen exhales in relief.

Unsteadily, Pam pushes up from her desk to stand, grabbing her messenger bag and slinging its strap over her shoulder. She exits the classroom with Ellen in tow, and heads toward her office.

A million questions swirl in Pam’s head. Why are you here? How did you even know where to find me? But she bites her tongue. The hallways of the community college aren’t the place to air things out. Ellen follows her wordlessly, maintaining a respectful distance as she glances furtively at Pam out of the corner of her eye. They’re halfway to her office when someone calls out for Pam.

“Ms. H!”

One of her first-year students, Valerie, rushes to catch up to them with a fistful of papers in hand. “I forgot to give you a draft of my manuscript before the final.” She comes to an abrupt stop when she notices Pam has company, eyes widening. “Holy shit, you’re Ellen Wilson!”

Ellen’s brows shoot up, still surprised when someone recognizes her despite more than a decade in the public eye. “Oh, yes, that’s me.” She offers a hand that Valerie shakes with great enthusiasm “Hi, um....”

“Valerie. But everyone calls me Val.”

“Nice to meet you, Val.”

“Wow.” Val runs a hand through the unshaved side of her red hair. “You know an astronaut?” She asks Pam incredulously. “How on earth do you know an astronaut?!”

“Long story,” Pam replies with a taut smile.

“I’ll bet.” Val says, starstruck. “I saw you on TV when I was a kid, catching that tank. You’re amazing!”

Smiling sheepishly, Ellen ducks her head. “Thank you. Feels like it was a lifetime ago now.”

“I’ll bet. And, hey, sorry to hear you left NASA.”

Pam’s stomach bottoms out as her head snaps toward Ellen. “You what?” She shakes her head, unsure she heard correctly.

Ellen’s eyes slide to Pam briefly before focusing back on Valerie. “It was the right time.”

Val shrugs. “Gotta know when to fold ‘em. Do you know what you’ll do now?”

“Oh, you know, just take it easy while I weigh some options.” Ellen shifts her weight from one foot to another, nonchalant, like it’s no big deal. Like she didn’t just walk away from a hard-earned career and upward mobility.

Pam’s head swims at the revelation, knees wobbly, but manages to change the subject. “You said you have your manuscript, Valerie?”

“Oh, yeah.” Val hands over her papers. “Thanks again for taking a look.”

“No problem.” Pam slides the manuscript into her bag, hoping the tremor in her hands isn’t too obvious.

“What’s it about?” Ellen asks politely.

“Oh,” Val grins, flattered, tucking her hands in the pockets of her black leather jacket. “Just my humble contribution to the cyberpunk genre. You ever watch Blade Runner?”

“I did! It was, uh, interesting.”

“Yeah! Well, it’s similar to that. Though I’m guessing you’re more into Ms. H’s sci-fi.”

“You write science fiction?” Ellen asks Pam, curious.

“Ms. H, you should tell her about your story about the astronauts exploring Mars.”

Ellen’s eyebrows rise slowly, and Pam coughs to hide the blush she already knows is heating her cheeks. “Some other time, maybe,” Pam says. “I’ll touch base with you after the holidays?”

“That’d be great.” Valerie grins. “Thanks again, Ms. H. And nice meeting you, Mrs. Wilson. Er, Commander.”

“Just Ellen will do,” Ellen chuckles, waving goodbye to the retreating student. “So,” Ellen says as they resume walking. “You’re writing about Martian explorers?”

“You’ve got five minutes. Do you really want to spend it talking about my work?” Pam retorts, face still flushed, when they finally reach her office.

Ellen doesn’t respond as Pam unlocks the door, turns on the light, and leads them inside. “Have a seat.” She maneuvers behind her desk and sits, already feeling more at ease in her own space, like she can recapture a modicum of control over her warring emotions. In red, glowing numbers, the answering machine by her phone shows she has about half a dozen messages waiting.

If Ellen’s nervous or uncomfortable on Pam’s turf, she doesn’t show it while she drinks in the small office, taking in the framed diplomas on the walls, crammed bookshelves, and stacks of paper on her desk. She lowers herself into the chair across from Pam.

“I’m not really sure where to start.” Ellen folds her hands in her lap, gaze determined and unwavering. “So I’ll start by saying this: I’m not here to upset you, though I can tell by the look on your face I already have. But, please believe me when I say that’s the last thing I ever want. Okay?”

“Okay.” Pam can already feel her pulse starting to accelerate.

Ellen takes a deep breath. “I wanted… I needed to see you. To understand why you left.”

Pam’s chest instantly clenches in response. There was a reason she hadn’t wanted to see Ellen, who could read her so well she’d know instantly that Pam was lying. “I explained it in my letter.” Schooling her expression, she sticks with the same narrative.

“You said your heart still belongs to Elise.”

Pam inclines her head forward. That is what she wrote, after all.

“Then why aren’t you with her.” It’s not a question.

It feels like all the air has rushed out of the room, and Pam thinks this is the closest she’ll ever come to experiencing life in a vacuum. It’s so quiet that she can hear the scuff of sneakers on the floor outside her office door.

Ellen scoots forward in her seat, words coming faster now. “I called your house, trying to reach you.”

“You what?”

“Elise picked up instead.”

Pam’s stomach twists.

“She said you weren’t together,” Ellen continues. "That you moved out weeks ago.”

Anger lances through Pam, white and hot. “Ellen, you had no right.” Her voice is strained from keeping her temper under control.

“Maybe so,” Ellen concedes, but she doesn’t look repentant at all. “But you also said we owe each other the truth. So what is it?”

“Your five minutes are up.” Pam knows she’s being irrational, but she doesn’t care. Clinging to her outrage is preferable to succumbing to her spiraling panic at being called out on her lie.

Ellen lets out an incredulous laugh. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Pam confirms, crossing her arms as if that would shield her from the growing tumult between them. “Please leave.”

Ellen just stares at her, unblinking, before she shakes her head. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I told you once before that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep you. And I’m not leaving until I get the truth.”

Ellen’s eyes are dark, earnest. Pam hates that she’s not immune to them and, if she’s honest with herself, never will be. Her traitorous heart’s already melting, but Pam’s nothing if not stubborn and she sets her mouth in a thin, hard line. “Then I’ll go.”

She gets up to leave, not even bothering to grab her bag, but Ellen rushes to her feet and blocks her path--not unlike the time at The Outpost years ago, after Pam had given her ultimatum about Ellen’s marriage to Larry.

They’re close, too close that it makes Pam dizzy, and she has to take a step back. Ellen reaches out to Pam, but stops before she can make contact. Her right hand hovers in the air for several long seconds before it drops back to her side.

“Please don’t be angry,” Ellen pleads.

“A little too late for that.”

“I know.” Ellen’s brow furrows, but still she doesn’t move.

“Then please go,” Pam says in a pained whisper. “Or let me go.”

“I can’t.” The crack in Ellen’s voice splits straight down Pam’s heart. “I love you, Pam. Always have. Always will.”

Pam squeezes her eyes shut. The room feels like it’s tilting on its axis.

“If you don’t feel the same, then…”Ellen’s throat constricts as she swallows. . “Then that’s fine. I’ll learn to live with that. But I just need to know. Please.”

When she opens them, Pam’s eyes are full, stinging. “You know I do.”

“Then why…”

“Because sometimes it’s not enough!”

Confusion etches across Ellen’s features, wrinkling her forehead and tugging the corners of her lips down. “Enough for what?”

“For us to work, Ellen.” Pam wipes away a tear that’s trickled down her cheek. “We live in completely different worlds.”

Ellen’s next response is drowned out by the telephone, its shrill ring cutting through the air. For a moment, Pam’s paralyzed, unable to move beneath Ellen’s piercing gaze, both of them breathing heavily. By the fourth ring, Pam snaps out of it. She walks back behind the desk, inhales, exhales, and picks up the receiver.

“Pam Horton.”

It’s the dean’s secretary, asking her to drop by the office before she leaves for the day. Pam normally dreads having to meet with the dean, never quite enjoying the administrative aspects of her job, but right now she’s relieved to have an excuse to end this conversation with Ellen before she does or says anything more that she’ll regret.

“Yes, ma’am, of course,” Pam says as Ellen’s eyes track her movements. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

After she hangs up the phone, she clears her throat. “I’m sorry, but I have to get back to work.”

Ellen looks like she wants to object, but ultimately she retreats back a step. She doesn’t sit back down. Pam’s not sure if she feels relieved or disappointed.

“I understand.” She self-consciously tucks her hair behind her ears. “Can we at least talk later?”

Pam’s mind shouts no. Her heart screams yes. Her mouth lands somewhere in between. “I don’t know,” she says lamely. “We’re wrapping up finals… you know how it goes.”

Ellen’s looking at her like this might be the last opportunity she’ll have to do so. “Well, if you find yourself with some free time, I’m staying at the Driskill ‘til the end of the week.”

The Driskill is the oldest hotel in Austin, right in the heart of downtown. Iconic. Historic. Perfectly suited for someone of Ellen’s background and stature. And much too rich for Pam’s blood. It’s so fitting that Pam doesn’t know whether she wants to laugh or cry.

“We’ll see,” she says.

Ellen nods slowly before turning toward the door. But her hand stills on the knob, and Pam finds herself holding her breath.

“Maybe we do live in different worlds.” Ellen smiles sadly over her shoulder. “But we could create a new one. Together.”

With that, she’s gone. The door softly clicks shut. And it takes all of Pam’s willpower not to follow.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Mine

5. Draw me like one of your French girls

Genre: Min Yoongi x oc

Warnings: none

Word Count: 3.3k

At this point, I’m seriously considering commissioning my own fanart.

It all started the next morning at our first press release. Somebody had the bright idea to show me some fanart that’s been rolling in the past few weeks of a certain k-pop rapper and I. Not gonna lie...we look good together.

Too good.

Then again, everything about Min Yoongi has seemed pretty good since I woke up to a couple more texts from him this morning. I passed out after his late-night/early morning apology, but he sent another text not long after.

4:32 MYG: So does this mean I’m forgiven? Bong-cha made it sound like you enjoy holding grudges.

9:02 MYG: Morning. I hope everything goes well with you today...is it alright if I keep texting you?

9:02 MYG: Just so I can keep tabs on everything. I don’t want this to get too out of hand for you.

Obviously the poor man is just as worried about all of this as I am. I couldn’t help but give a sleepy chuckle when I woke up to his messages.

So far, I’ve done a wonderful job of ignoring how nice it felt to wake up to a good morning text.

I’ve also done a great job at keeping calm and breezing past any weird questions from the current press conference I’m in. That is, until a Korean reporter (I have a hunch they’re from Dispatch) pipes up not only with a question, but with visual aids!

“Cara, do you mind if I ask you a question? Would you like a translator?”

Reminding myself to be gracious and kind, I shake my head. “Go ahead. I should be alright without a translator, thank you.”

The reporter nods, shuffling forward until they pull a paper out of their file in hand. She gives me a sickly smile, passing the paper up to our security guard who does me the honor of bringing it right to my outstretched palm.

“This is one of the newest renderings, I was just wondering how you have been feeling about this entire situation?”

I already guessed what this was going to be about, but the picture in my hand confirms it.

It’s fanart.

To be honest, it’s very well done. It’s a watercolor, the artist placed us walking along a rainy sidewalk. Hand in hand, Yoongi’s gummy smile on full display while I look down at my toes.

Sebastian whistles beside me, clearly as in awe of the artwork as I am. Before me the reporter still wears her smile, waiting for a response. I pass the paper down the line, allowing Rhea to get a chance to admire the fanart.

Maybe it’s the boost of confidence I received upon reading Yoongi’s text this morning that has me grinning back at the reporter with a saccharine smile.

“Did you draw this? It’s very well done.”

Not everyone can understand Korean in this press conference, but the few that do start chuckling. The reporter blanches for a moment, smile faltering.

“N-no, but if you could answer the question-”

I’m sure I look very disappointed as I look down at her. She definitely works for dispatch; she practically reeks of it. Maybe that’s what gives me the boldness I need as I realize that I’m not even her direct target; Yoongi is.

Yoongi’s nice. I don’t think she is.

“Oh, everything is going fine. Honestly, I should get in touch with this artist. They’re very talented.”

The reporter’s eyebrows flick up, sensing a new method of attack. “Were you thinking of commissioning your own?”

“Honestly, I might consider it. Maybe it’ll make my aunts quit hounding me every Thanksgiving about my love life.”

With that, the paper is handed back to the security guard, but the reporter motions for him to keep it. Confused, he hands it back to me. I turn it over so I don’t get caught staring at it during the conference. That’s the last thing Yoongi or I need right now.

As the reporter takes her seat again, I can’t help but feel a little triumphant. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

🌙

12:22 ME: I never said you were forgiven, did I?

As soon as we get out of the press conference we are ushered into a van which takes us to another interview. I figure that now is as good a time as any to text Yoongi back, seeing that this morning I woke up late and was too flustered to come up with a response.

“Who are you texting?” Sebastian asks. “Is it your friend that always calls you?”

I consider lying to him for a moment, but realize that it might actually be nice for him to know. He can keep me from being unrealistic when I start to fangirl.

He may also help me to keep that promise I silently made a while ago: to not go so easy on Yoongi. Right now, it’s proving harder than expected to dislike him.

“Nosy.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “You’re grinning at your phone like an idiot, that only happens when you get texts from me.”

“Ha! Right. It’s a secret...kind of. Don’t tell anyone.”

“I’ll try my best not to.”

Taking an unnecessarily big breath, I spill my secret that I’ve kept for approximately 12 hours.

“It’s Yoongi.” When there’s no immediate reaction from him, I backpedal. “Also known as Suga?”

Before Sebastian can respond the ping of my phone pulls my attention away.

12:26 MYG: Oh good, you responded. I was getting worried you were actually mad. So is it alright if I keep texting you? I don’t want to mess with your schedule.

“You’re smiling again.”

I look up to see an annoyed Sebastian Stan. He’s not very good at sharing attention, and it would appear that Yoongi is no exception.

“How strange, I didn’t realize.”

12:27 ME: That’s fine.

12:27 ME: But I am mad!!

12:28 MYG: Hahaha sure

“Cara, we’re here.” Sebastian says as he clambers out of the car. I follow after him, pocketing my phone.

There’s a few cameras outside waiting for us, but we’re able to make it inside the building without too much fuss. Once we make it into the room where we’re supposed to have one of our interviews, Sebastian pulls a paper out of his back pocket.

“What’s that?”

He smirks at me, unfolding the paper. It’s the fanart from earlier. I didn’t even realize that he’d pocketed it.

“Tell Suga I say hi, at least.” He poses with the papers just below his chin, giving the best puppy dog eyes he can muster up. It’s rather convincing, if I’m being honest.

“You weirdo,” I mumble as I snap a photo. I’m quick to send it off to Yoongi, captioning it.

12:37 ME: Sebastian says hello.

Our interviewer is just about to come into the room when I receive a response. Not having the self-restraint to put my phone away, I quickly take a look. Sebastian peers over my shoulder, curious as well.

12:40 MYG: Winter Soldier!!!

12:41 MYG: Hi. Did he draw that?

I cackle, quickly translating the message. Sebastian looks appalled. “I have better things to do than draw fanart!”

“Yeah, like write fanfiction, right?”

He grins at me. “Obviously.”

12:42 ME: No, but he says he’s writing fanfiction.

12:42 ME: We’re about to start an interview rn but I’ll tell him to send you his rough draft later. 😏

Interviews pass, and it isn’t until I’m finishing up dinner that my phone pings with another message from Yoongi. I nearly impale Sebastian with my fork as I lunge for my charging phone; he’d come into my hotel room to eat dinner with me.

“Watch it!” Sebastian grunts, shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate. We were promised lunch by Rhea earlier but it ended up just being a small snack as she was whisked away by a long-lost friend. The two of us managed to control our hunger for as long as possible, but Sebastian wasted no time calling up some food for us before we even got back to the hotel.

We barely beat the delivery boy here. He wasn’t all that surprised that we were American. Sebastian had tried out some very choppy Cantonese. What did end up surprising him was that he was delivering a meal to the Winter Soldier. I was able to sneak into my room undetected while the boy’s eyes were bugging out as Sebastian signed his hat.

“Sorry,” I mumble around my food.

9:12 MYG: I’m still waiting for the rough draft.

I translate the message to Sebastian, who cackles and promises to get started on it as soon as possible.

9:14 ME: Sorry, Sebastian said he’s still trying to write it. I’ll let you know when it’s ready!

9:15 MYG: That’s alright. I’ll be patient.

9:15 MYG: I saw a clip from your press conference today.

My stomach lurches as I realize what clip it was that he probably saw. Does he think I’m some crazy fangirl now? I mean, I might be. But he doesn’t need to know that.

9:18 ME: I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?

Sebastian notices my change in expression and shoots me a worried look. “Everything alright?” I shrug.

“Yeah...I just hope I didn’t get him in trouble with what I said at the press conference today. I think that reporter was trying to go against him somehow.”

“He’s a big boy. Did he say anything about it?”

I look back down at the messages even though I already know what he said. My stomach lurches again as I see the three little dots at the bottom of the screen.

“No, not really. He just said he saw a clip or something. He’s typing right now, though.”

9:20 MYG: I thought I was the worrier. No, you didn’t. How was the rest of your day?

“What’d he say?” Sebastian grabs our cartons of food, tossing them into the wastebasket.

“He’s just…”

“Are you blushing?!” My friend stares at me from across the room, eyes wide. “No way! You like him!”

“No! No I don’t!”

“Yes you do, don’t lie to me! You’re so into him!” Sebastians hurries back over grinning wide. “Wow, he must be a good texter.”

That really is helping my blush. “Nooo, he’s not. He’s just nice. That’s it. It’s just fun having someone nice to talk to, you know? He feels really bad about everything and - Sebastian quit it - and it’s just sweet of him to care. That’s it.”

Sebastian stops looking at me with his puppy dog eyes and leans back in his chair, a contemplative look overtaking his features. “I thought I was nice to talk to.”

I pause for a second, breath getting caught in my throat. “Y-you are. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He shakes his head, giving me an award-winning smile. “No, I know. Aren’t you going to respond?”

“Oh! Yeah!” I focus on my phone again. There’s an uneasy feeling rising in me at Sebastian’s comment, but I brush it off for now. He’s always been bad at sharing his friends. He’s the same with Anthony Mackey, I’ve seen it up close.

9:25 ME: True, I’ll let you worry. My day was good, just finished up dinner. How was yours?

“There, I-” I look up proudly only to find Sebastian’s chair empty and the door clicking shut. “...I did it.”

MYG: It was great. Got lots of work done.

MYG: Have you decided if you’re going to come to the festival or not? Also, Bong-cha says hi.

ME: Wow, she can’t even tell me herself. No respect. No, I honestly didn’t even think about it today...but I’m pretty sure we’re all going either way.

MYG: Haha she’s not happy with your comment.

MYG: She’s reading over my shoulder, I promise I’m not reading our conversation out loud. Is your director making you go?

I just miss the chance to respond as my phone lights up with an incoming call.

“Bong-cha, quit reading my conversations you little weirdo.”

“Hey, how’s it going with you? I’m great, thanks for asking.”

“Are you still in the room with everyone?”

“No, just left. You should see Yoongi right now, though.”

“Why?”

“He looks like a kid in a candy store every time he gets a text from you. It’s adorable.”

“Yah!”

My friend’s cackle soars through the phone, and I swat at the air as though I could somehow get her to stop.

“Please tell me you guys are coming to the festival.” Bong-cha’s sudden change in tone has me pausing, chewing on my lip.

“We are. Why?”

“Come stay with me!” Bong-cha shouts. I jump up, a grin already working its way onto my face. “It’ll be just like old times. And, I was looking at the schedule you sent me...there’s a couple of nights where you’re done relatively early. We could go do something fun!”

I sigh, rubbing my temples. My phone is buzzing with incoming texts, but I ignore them for now. “Yeah, that’ll be fun. I’m not sure if I can come stay with you-”

“C’mon,” Bong-cha whines. “I never get to see you anymore. We’ll make it work! Oh, I’ve gotta go, Tae brought Yeontan. But let me know!”

With that, Bong-cha cuts the line and leaves me on the other side caught between excitement at seeing my friend and dread at having to come face to face with Yoongi. Texting is one thing; but actually spending time with him?

“Just be his friend,” I mumble to myself. Settling down, I attack my food once more. The space where Sebastian sat before makes me furrow my brows.

What’s going on with him? I mean sure, we’re really good friends. But we still see each other constantly, why would he be so possessive?

It’s probably all just in my head. My phone light up with the texts I received a couple of minutes ago while I was still on the phone, and this time I physically cannot restrain the smile that comes through as I realize Yoongi is still texting me.

MYG: Really no pressure about the festival. I know Bong-cha really wants to see you, but please don’t feel like you have to come and hang out with us.

MYG: We’re not even that cool, anyways.

MYG: Are you just hanging out with Sebastian tonight??

I stare down at my phone for a moment, the smile being wiped from my face. Plopping down heavily on my bed, I close my eyes and power off my phone.

Yoongi is nice. So nice, apparently, that I can’t even tell now if he’s trying to get me to stay away. The fact is simple: he’s a nice man who has a reputation to uphold and is trying to keep everyone happy. That includes me.

He’s nice for texting me and trying to make sure I’m doing alright. Any decent human being would do that. But there’s also the fact that I’m new to this game in the spotlight and I know that I’m not going to be able to keep my feelings out of this.

I take a moment to breathe, forcing myself to push away the impending panic that sets in. This is no way to live, and I know that I’m only setting myself up for heartbreak when someday I don’t wake up to a good morning text from Yoongi.

It’s only been one day of communicating and I can already feel myself getting too attached.

Powering on my phone again, I flinch at the new texts.

9:17 MYG: Bong-cha just told me her evil plan. 😩 Did she tell you about it on the phone?

9:31 MYG: Sorry if you’re busy! Just text me back when you can. Let me know about your plans for the festival, too.

Even though I’m itching to text him back and waste away the rest of the night talking to him, there’s another more pressing matter I have to face. Quickly getting up and leaving my phone there in order to fight the temptation, I grab my room key and head a few rooms down. A quiet knock and a few seconds later and Sebastian is opening up his door.

He looks down at me warily, and I feel almost like we had a fight because of the way he’s looking at me. Emitting a loud sigh, he shakes it off and grins down at me in a way that makes me question if I even saw the previous expression at all.

“Hey,” I mumble out weakly. Moving past him into his room, he follows silently behind me.

“Hey…?”

Without another word I land face first onto his bed, the action pulling a laugh from him. Good. His laugh reminds me that this is real. This friendship is real, and Sebastian for all his annoying teasing, is a true friend.

Bong-cha is miles away and busy. She’s also biased. So Sebastian is the next best thing.

“I’m freaking out,” the pillow muffles my words but I know he hears me loud and clear. The mattress dips on one side as Sebastian settles onto it, and a moment later a hesitant hand begins kneading the flesh at my shoulders. I let out a satisfied sigh.

“What’s going on?” His tone is gentle, and the sound of it nearly tugs some tears out of my eyes.

“I’m pathetic, Sebastian.” I clutch his pillow and bury my face farther into it. “I’m so pathetic! I’ve literally never met the man before in my life, and I’ve spent the last 24 hours sending a few texts back and forth and I already feel like I’d jump off a cliff for him!”

Sebstian’s hands pause in their kneading for a fraction of a second before continuing on. “I told you you liked him.”

I turn to look at him, and again I catch that wary gaze before he drops it. “Really? ‘I told you so’? Rude. I need help, Sebastian. It’s never going to happen, he’s just being nice, and I just need to be cordial and get through this. Right?”

He nods, contemplating a bit. “Sure. He seems like a great guy. But at the end of the day, the two of you are just caught up in a weird media frenzy and that’s it. Is that what you want me to say?”

“I guess.” I huff, flipping onto my back as I stare up at the ceiling. “Why do I like him though? Am I just desperate?”

Sebastian stands up and laughs. “No way. If you were desperate you would be falling for me, not some inconvenient, crazy famous kpop star.”

Somehow his words make me laugh, the feeling easing the panic a bit. “You’re right, I guess.”

🌙

I end up passing out in Sebastian’s room only to wake up at 3 am and find myself a little too close for comfort to my co-star. Gently untangling myself from his mess of arms and legs, I sneak out of his room and back to my own.

Half-asleep and looking the part, I groan at my reflection in the mirror as I try to brush my teeth. Pointing at my reflection with my toothbrush, I give myself a pep talk.

“You are not pathetic,” pause to spit, “you’re not desperate,” rinse out the brush, “you’re just friendly. You’re practicing making new friends, and Yoongi as well as all of BTS are a part of that. That’s it.”

So when I finally settle down into my cold and very empty bed, I don’t feel very guilty sending Yoongi a late-night text. He never texted me again after the last one I saw, and I easily brush off the feeling of disappointment and replace it with relief.

3:13 ME: Yeah, we’re going. No, I have no idea what the evil plan is. Do we need to come up with a counter-plan? And sorry I never responded...I was busy annoying Sebastian and left my phone in my room. Good morning! This is payback for your late texts last night!

I fall asleep easily after that, double checking that my phone is on silent before snuggling deep down into my pillows.

Honestly, what do I even have to worry about? Everything is going great with promotions, the movie is finished and should be well received, and in a couple of days I’ll get to go see Bong-cha and make new friends!

Into the silence, I can’t help but laugh. I’m not dumb enough to believe that everything will go as planned.

Especially not as my dreams take over and the only thing I can dream of is a man in a black suit, turning around to greet me over and over again. I can never quite see his face, but somehow I know him.

Even in my unconscious state, I lie to myself and say that it’s not Min Yoongi.

Previous - Next

Taglist is open! Ready to head to Seoul next time?

taglist: @taylorroe3 @eusticenatalie @agustneeds @oceandeep​ @prdshobi​

[adorablele]

we’re just friends; l.dh

hello!!! can i request an imagine with haechan kinda like they were best friends in the past and then after a long time they meet each other again and he finds you really pretty? love all your writings!!!!! 💗💘💞💕 

↬ pairing; lee donghyuck x female!reader

↬  genre; fluff,, angst 

↬ word count; 3.5k+ (my longest fic yet pls don’t flop)

↬ summary; he put the wrong label on your friendship, just like how the grocery store labeled the aisle incorrectly.

↬ a/n; I thought the photo of hyuck was very nice which was why I used it as a header, but if anyone would like to make a header for this fic, I’ll give you virtual hugs <3 also, this is the FIRST TIME I’m writing an angsty ending so feedback is appreciated :)))) 

“excuse me.” someone tapped him on the shoulder.

seven year old donghyuck turned around, quizzically looking at you, “what?”

you made a face at his response. “you need to go to the back of the line,” your tone matched his.

“why?” he immediately asked, eyes boring into yours.

you stared back. “‘cause I was here first.”

“who says?” 

“I say!” you retorted, crossing your arms.

he snorted, “I was clearly here first, that’s why you’re standing behind me.”

you glared at the boy, “what are you a pig?”

he opened his mouth, but you cut him off, “and, the first person stands on the line. you’re in front of it, so I’m first.”

the clearing of a throat interrupted your argument. the two of you looked at the class know-it-all. 

“you guys are both wrong, I’m first.”

“who says?” both you and donghyuck asked.

having caused such a ruckus, the teacher booted the two of you to the back of the line. with a glare aimed at the smug little girl, the both of you followed the teacher’s instruction. 

on his way back, donghyuck spotted his friends, giving them a smile. they high-fived and allowed him to stand in front of them in line. you frowned at him, reminding him that ‘you can’t cut,’ before dutifully continuing your lonesome journey to the back of the line. donghyuck chuckled at your sulkily hung head and told his friends to save two spots at the lunch table. 

“she’s so annoying,” you mumbled, kicking the nonexistent pebbles on the floor, “she thinks she knows everything.”

“I know right,” the boy agreed, eyebrows raising when you jumped.

upon realizing it was him, your gaze went back down to the floor, “I thought you were up there with your friends.”

“the teacher told me to get to the back of the line,” he lied.

you looked at him for a moment. he simply looked back. you pursed your lips, crossing your arms and turning your head, chin up and away from him, “serves you right!” you then proceeded to march away, following the moving line. 

not hearing his footsteps, you peeked behind you. you sighed and fully turned around, placing a hand on your hip.

“are you coming?”

“it’s supposed to be there, not their,” he mumbled to you, reading over your shoulder.

“I’ll fix it when I revise and edit,” you dismissed, continuing to write your draft.

“there’s not supposed to be a comma after you,” he pointed out.

“again, I’ll just fix it when I’m editing,” you told him, thoughts halting because of the boy.

“you know-”

“oh my god, hyuck! just give me these comments when we peer review on thursday!” you exclaimed, glaring at the smirking 10 year old.

“don’t use the lord’s name in vain,” he tsked.

“how cute,” the waitress cooed, setting down the drinks on the table, “are you guys studying together?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” you muttered, annoyance laced in your voice.

the waitress arched a brow, leaning closer to donghyuck. “you like her, don’t you?” she loudly whispered.

he looked at her like she was crazy, not noticing the way your hand froze once the question was asked. “we’re just friends.”

with a slow nod, the waitress looked over at you. she chuckled when you quickly looked down at your paper. “whatever you say,” she shrugged, leaving to go serve other customers in the busy diner.

“what if we drift apart?” you sighed, sipping your juice box as he ate his sandwich on the picnic blanket.

we laughed, ‘we von’t brif abarph.”

you frowned at the boy, “chew your food.”

after a minute of silence, he spoke again. “we won’t drift apart.”

you didn’t say anything. he peered over at you, the loud slurping of the juice box catching his attention.

“I think it’s empty,” he commented, taking another bite of his sandwich. 

you pushed his shoulder, “hyuck, be serious! some friend drift away in middle school.”

he rubbed his shoulder, the crushed juice box gripped tightly in your hand. he sighed and leaned back. “life can’t tear us apart,” he looked up at the sky, “and even if they try, I won’t let you go so easily.”

he grinned at you, the muscles moving automatically upon seeing your sparkly gaze on him, “I mean, who else am I supposed to copy answers from?”

you rolled your eyes, “what are friends for, I guess.”

“you are not going to leave me to ride the bus alone on the first day of school!” 

donghyuck chuckled at the threat you told him the night before, the words somehow motivating him to get out of bed despite how much his blankets begged him to come back. when he arrived at the bus stop, you were pacing back and forth, eyes frantically looking around.

“the bus doesn’t arrive for another-” 

“where have you been?” you cried, hugging him, “I thought I was going to be alone!”

“well, I’m here,” he laughed, patting you on the back reassuringly, “still sleepy, but here nonetheless.”

he listened as you rambled away, nerves floating through your words as the two of you waited for the bus to arrive. you were silent when the bus parked in front of the two of you. he gestured for you to walk in first, and you did, planting down in the window seat. donghyuck yawned, slumping into the seat next to you. he didn’t waste any time, plopping his backpack on the floor next to yours as he leaned his head against your shoulder. 

he quietly counted to himself, hoping that he’ll help him fall back asleep. when he got to thirty, he felt your fingers brush through his hair. it caught him off guard, but eventually, he relaxed, continuing to count to sixty before he left to dreamland.

somewhere along the way, he stopped counting. he didn’t need to count, simply waiting until you played with his hair for him to feel relaxed enough to sleep. 

“hey, are you two dating?” a brown haired boy asked one morning. donghyuck recognized him, the guy sat two seats behind the bus driver. he believed his name had min in it or something.

however, donghyuck didn’t think much about the boy’s name, choosing to laugh at his question instead. you joined in not a second later. donghyuck stared at the boy like he was the funniest person in the world. 

“we’re just friends.”

the guy’s eyes flickered between the two of you suspiciously before he shrugged, “right okay.”

“hey jeno,” he called out waving over to his friend who was actively ignoring him, “jeno, come here! they’re not dating!”

jeno glared at his friend, quickly walking over to him, “why does that matter?” 

“because you-” jeno interrupted his friend, sending an apologetic glance at you and donghyuck, “sorry about jaemin, he’s stupid sometimes.”

you waved him off and gave a nod towards donghyuck. “it’s okay, stupid is his middle name.”

donghyuck gave you a side-eye, “I’m not the one who used soap as toothpaste this morning.”

“they’re both green!” you defended.

jeno and jaemin were easily forgotten, left to watch the two of you bicker away. 

jaemin snickered in jeno’s ear, “we’re just friends, they say.”

“I know you have it!” renjun yelled, keeping jaemin in a headlock.

“renjun, let jaemin go,” you sighed, setting down your lunch on the table.

“so abusive,” jaemin weeped, clinging onto you once he was out of renjun’s deadly arms.

“we don’t know if he was the one who took your moomin plushie, so calm down,” you told him. however, your words went to waste when jaemin stuck his tongue out at renjun, triggering the boy to lunge at him. you looked over at jeno, hoping he’d stop the fight, but jeno remained unbothered, finishing whatever he was writing. 

donghyuck silently sat there, the moonmin plushie hidden in his backpack. he went by unnoticed, his plan succeeding. a subtle, sly smirk rested on his lips, one that no one noticed. no one, but you. 

“hyuck,” you called out.

“yeah,” he smiled, feigning an innocent look.

“where’d you hide it?”

“hide what?” he asked, tilting his head.

you gave him a pointed look to which he responded with a shrug, “why are you- hey!”

renjun grabbed donghyuck’s backpack, digging through it like there’s no tomorrow. he lifted the plushie out of the bag, lips lined straight.

“aight, imma head out,” donghyuck coughed, bolting out of the lunch room.

“you’re so dead!” renjun screamed chasing after his friend.

donghyuck slumped against the wall, trying to catch his breath. he was almost successful in framing jaemin for his mischievous act, keyword being almost. he shook his head, your careful eyes popping into his mind.

of course you figured it out, you always did.

“well, we have a month,” jaemin smiled.

“yeah, why don’t we start planning?” jeno suggested.

renjun pulled out his notebook, labeling the page as ‘donghyuck’s a coward - things to do so he’ll pee himself’. And while the three of them were busy brainstorming activities for the group to do before he left, donghyuck couldn’t help but focus on you. 

you were silent, mouth sewn shut ever since he dropped the news. you wouldn’t look at him, and after a few minutes of picking at your food, you excused yourself. he trailed after you, spotting you in a squatted position in the field.

“life can’t tear us apart, huh?” you laughed, plucking the dandelion from the ground. 

he squatted down next to you, staring at the dandelion twirling in your hand. 

“that’s still true.”

“you’re moving, hyuck.” your voice was soft, almost blending in with the whistles of the wind. you crushed the dandelion pedals, the tears starting to prick in your eyes.

he lifted your chin to look up at him. he wiped away the tears, cupping your face. 

“hey, hey, you’re going to be fine! you’ve got jeno, jaemin and renjun by your side,” he reassured.

donghyuck pulled you into a hug, the pedals in your hand drifting away in the slight breeze. he watched them slowly land a few feet away from the picnic blanket. his grip tightened, your tears streaming down your face.

“I won’t let you go so easily,” he promised. 

donghyuck wished he stuck to those words, but here he was, five years later, with zero attempts to contact you. he touched the chain around his neck, fingers trailing down to the jewel with your birthday engraved in it. 

(“you never remember my birthday,” you pouted, “so here’s your reminder!”)

subconsciously, he started to rub it, the fleeting thought that this could magically summon you passed through his mind. he shook his head, ignoring all the unpacked boxes surrounding him and deciding that it was a nice day to go walking.

following the familiar tune, donghyuck walked until he spotted the ice cream truck nearby. just as he was about to stand behind the line, a person cut in front of him. he blinked, shocked that someone, presumably an adult, would cut in front of him for some ice cream. what shocked him more was this unsettling feeling that this girl looked like you. 

“excuse me,” he said, tapping the person on the shoulder.

donghyuck couldn’t believe his eyes, even when he recognized that scar on your eyebrow from when he dared you to jump off the swing, teasing you that you didn’t have the guts.

(“you’re bleeding!” he cried, tears effortlessly falling down his face as you cried along with him.)

if he wasn’t so close, he wouldn’t have been able to see it. 

“yes?” you asked, tone way politer than it was back in first grade.

donghyuck almost forgot why he even approached you, distracted by how the sun created a halo around you. his heart sped up, maybe you weren’t y/n. he didn’t remember you looking this pretty.

“you need to go to the back of the line,” he finally said.

you furrowed your brows, head tilting. “why…” your voice trailed off, a hint in your voice saying that your question wasn’t applying to what he just said.

he grinned seeing the gears turning in your head. “‘cause I was here first.”

if possible, the sun shone brighter, acting as the lightbulb that went off in your head.

“donghyuck?” 

“are you sure you’re free today?” he asked, eyeing the basket in your hand.

you nodded, “yeah. I was planning to enjoy this meal in the park since it’s such a nice day out today.”

“by yourself?” he asked, raising a brow.

“can’t tell if you’re judging me, but yes, by myself.”

“I’m not,” he paused, “intruding on a date with yourself?”

you stopped walking, turning to look to your left like someone was there, “hey y/n, are you okay with this?”

you stepped to the left, looking to your right, “yeah, I’m good, what about you?”

stepping back to the right, you frowned to your left, “I don’t know.” you looked back at donghyuck’s amused eyes, “he hasn’t contacted us in five years, should he really eat lunch with us?”

for the last time, you stepped to the left, “just don’t give him the cake.”

with a nod, you stepped in front of donghyuck, “myself and I think it’s okay.”

“lee donghyuck!” three boys shouted, attracting the attention of the people trying to enjoy a peaceful day at the park.

his eyes widened, looking over at your cheeky smile. 

“maybe I lied,” you giggled. 

and before he could think about the butterflies that erupted in his stomach when he heard the sound, the aforementioned three boys attacked him with slaps on the backs, words overlapping each other. 

“where have you been?”

“you do have a phone, right?”

“why are you avoiding us?”

“did you move back here?”

“are you visiting?”

“guys!” you yelled, catching the attention of the boys, “whoever’s barbecuing might want to check on the food, it’s smelling a bit burnt.”

“and-” you interrupted yourself, laughing at the untold story.

donghyuck didn’t mind, he was busy processing the noise, still not used to the fluttering in his stomach. your laugh resonated in his ears and harmonized with the chirps of the birds. it left him with a stomach full of giddiness.

“it would help if you finished your story,” renjun pointed out, taking a bite of his food.

you waved him off, “I will, I will!”

you continued your tale, recounting countless shenanigans that he missed in the past five years like when jaemin got bombarded with pom poms because he accidentally walked into the girl’s locker room.

(“I guess that’s one way to get their attention,” you laughed.

“it was my first week there! how was I supposed to know they were lying to me?”

“maybe read the signs?” renjun suggested.)

or when jeno had to reject a guy because he slipped a confession letter into the wrong locker. 

(“what a heartbreaker,” jaemin tsked, receiving a glare from jeno. 

“the letter didn’t even have his name on the paper!”)

or when renjun almost blew up the school during chemistry because he refused to listen to his lab partner. 

(“he wanted to impress her,” jeno commented.

“spoiler alert, it failed,” you added.

“she thought I was dumb,” renjun frowned.)

or when you tackled a random stranger, thinking he was the one who pranked you.

“he’s my boyfriend, now.”

did he mishear that?

“right now,” you pouted, plushed  beautifully under the sun’s rays, “he’s abroad in europe.”

“he’ll be back in two days, don’t worry,” jaemin reassured you, patting you on the back.

your eyes held all the stars in the galaxy when you talked about pandas, your favorite animal, and donghyuck thought that that was the only time your eyes would ever put the stars to shame. 

he was wrong.

as you were spewing out stories about your boyfriend, your eyes made him think that he was looking through a telescope, staring up at the night sky. you held a shy smile, melting donghyuck’s heart to mush. 

but then those words echoed in his mind. 

he’s my boyfriend.

they swirled in his mind, traveling down his spine and coiling around his heart like a snake. it crushed him, leaving a pool of disappointment in his chest. he shouldn’t be disappointed.

he looked at your practically glowing figure. your cheeks were faint with red, your lips softer than the blanket on your lap, your hands looking too heavy for you to hold, but you weren’t his. 

“we’re just friends,” he breathed out, words blending with the wind. they were heavier than he remembered, bitter as he let it rest on his tongue. thankfully, no one heard him. except you, of course.

“did you say something?” you asked him, almost swearing that you saw his mouth move.

he blinked, “what?”

you furrowed your brows, “nothing, I thought you had something to say.��

donghyuck shook his head, heart palpitating with your eyes intensely analyzing him. he took a bite of his food, hoping that you wouldn’t bother him now that he was occupied with chewing. and you did, dropping the topic and continuing on about the adventures you had with jeno, jaemin, renjun and- he doesn’t know your boyfriend’s name. 

he scoffed silently to himself, he’ll find out later. he’s bound to hear the guy’s name again, anyway.

donghyuck found it funny how he left the picnic early to get his mind off of you, yet here he was, strolling behind you with the shopping cart filled with various junk foods. it was almost two in the morning, but he couldn’t say no to you, not when he could practically see your cute pout through the phone. 

you hopped on the colored tiles scattered on the floor, humming along to some tune playing in your head. your eyes roamed over the sweet treats on the shelves, and he chuckled when you pointed out that the aisle was labeled as spices. donghyuck thought it was unfair that you seemed to shine no matter the time of day, even under the dimly lit grocery store lamps. he sighed, especially under the dimly lit grocery store lamps.

with a gasp, you grabbed a box of cookies from the shelf, waving them in his face. “it’s your favorite cookies!” you teased.

he hated those cookies. 

“actually, I’m already going with someone to the dance.”

the girl shook her head, pushing the cookies back to him, “who-”

“you got me cookies?” you squealed, appearing out of nowhere and taking the box of cookies from him.

“actually-” his admirer started, trying to take back the gift from you.

you ignored the girl, ripping opening the box and stuffing one in your mouth.

“thanks hyuck!”

“is she the one your taking to the dance?” the other girl sneered, looking at you with a glare.

he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, smiling fondly at you as you giddily ate the cookies you knew he didn’t like. “well yeah, she’s my girl friend.” 

and you looked at him with a mouth full of cookies and cheeks flushed red. you nodded, “yep, he’s my boyfriend.”

he chuckled, his thumb wiping away the crumbs on your face. “you’re not going to leave any cookies for me?” he teased.

while he meant for the label to be platonic (simply a girl who’s a friend), donghyuck knew that his classmate took it romantically. and he almost went along with it, but when jaemin asked him if the two of you were finally dating, he laughed it off. ‘we’re just friends.’ he ignored the discontent in his stomach and how empty it felt when you shrugged off his arm.

regret clouded his mind, forcing another memory into his brain.

“my family is waiting for me in the car,” donghyuck chuckled, your arms locked in place.

“let them wait,” you frowned, words muffled by his shirt.

“I got to get going.”

your grip tightened and you told him three words that he acted like he didn’t hear.

“I love you,” he blurted.

your smile dropped, along with your arms. you stared at him with confused eyes and backed up three steps.

“remember when that girl told me that?” he quickly added, the seed of regret growing, continuously gnawing away at his heart with each second that passed by, “she made a banner and everything.”

silence.

you could see through him, you always did. that made his heart pound even more. you were just staring at him.

“I have a boyfriend.” your voice was level despite the wavering in your eyes and the tense scrunch of your shoulders. 

he swallowed, hesitant to speak. “I know.”

donghyuck clenched his jaw, he knew that. he didn’t need another reminder that he was too late. he didn’t need another reminder that he should’ve confessed to you before he left. he didn’t need another reminder that you moved on. 

“I...I have to go.”

you left him there, surrounded by boxes of sweet snacks in an aisle labeled as spices. 

[hellowkatey]

Febuwhump Day 1

Prompt: Mind Control @febuwhump

read on ao3

A Magnet for Trouble

"This," Anakin kicks at a ball of dust, causing the particles to go flying everywhere. "blows,"

His Master coughs, and Anakin looks up to see he has kicked the dust directly into the face of Obi-Wan. He supposes he earned the disapproving scowl this time.

"Not every mission is going to be exciting, Padawan. Sometimes we receive tasks that are a little more on the mundane side."

Anakin examines his Master's face as he continues to brush dust out of his bearded face. Though he has the typical Obi-Wan Kenobi stoicism, Anakin has known him long enough to see that he too isn't exactly pleased about their task.

Some random Outer Rim planet claimed to have found some ancient Jedi artifact, so the council sent them to go fetch it. Literally, anyone could have done this, but they decided to send a Jedi knight? Master Nu would probably love this kind of thing, but Master Obi-Wan wouldn't let him suggest that to Master Windu.

So now they're searching through this dusty old house that smells like bantha poodoo and mildew because the local officials were too afraid to touch it. Apparently even too scared to get close enough to the artifact to get a decent holo. From the dark image, it looked like a deactivated Holocron, so Anakin isn't sure what all the fuss it about.

"Why would the Jedi leave something valuable in this kind of place?" he asks, crinkling his nose at a pile of something in the corner that seems to be a source of the horrible smell.

"This house is old, Anakin. I suspect long ago it was quite elegant and beautiful. During the Great Peace, Jedi Masters often opted to retire in their home worlds or places they liked. It is entirely possible this was the residence of a Jedi Master."

"I thought Jedi didn't like material things, though. This place is huge!" They'd spent the last hour or two making their way carefully through the three-story winding home.

Obi-Wan chuckles. "We are taught not to keep material things, but that does not mean some Jedi don't like them anyway. I'm sure you and that desk of projects you have can relate."

"Those are practical, Master."

"A bolt slingshot is practical?"

Anakin looks away from the wry gaze of his Master. He may or may not have broken a mug or two with that slingshot, but it was a prototype.

They go into the next room. It's the largest bedroom by far, with a canopied bed and large heavy furniture in various places. White sheets haphazardly cover the tables and paintings.

"Surprise, surprise. Another dusty bedroom." Anakin sighs, tugging down one of the sheets to look at the painting. In the dark, it is difficult to see, but he can tell it's a portrait of a woman.

"This is the main bedroom. Perhaps our artifact is somewhere in here."

"You'd think they'd tell us where they found it."

"I suspect they forgot which room it was."

Understandable, I suppose. There are literally over twenty different bedrooms that all look similar. While Master Obi-Wan looks through the drawers of the bedroom, Anakin continues to take interest in the painting. He pulls his lightsaber out, igniting it to get a better source of light.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan asks, his back still turned to him.

"Need more light." He waves the lightsaber close enough to the painting to see the face of the woman. Intense golden eyes stare back at him, almost like they are locking him into a gaze. He is entranced by her dark shiny curls that cascade down her shoulders and seem to fade into the elegant dark robes she is wearing. His eyes settle at the necklace that hangs from her neck, its dark metal forming a teardrop shape with a red gem in the center.

The woman is beautiful. Scarily beautiful. Were her eyes brown she might look a little bit like Padmé, or at least how Anakin remembers her. It's been nearly eight years since he's seen her, and he misses her sweet smile dearly.

"Anakin, what have I told you about gawking?" Obi-Wan teases, tugging at his padawan braid as he passes.

"I'm not-- oh nevermind," he groans, pulling his braid back in front of his shoulder.

"I'll check the closet, keep looking here."

"Yes, Master." He lowers his saber, about to turn it off when something catches his eye. The glow of his saber shows a space at the base of the wall. Anakin crouches down, placing his hand at the baseboard, and indeed feels a bit of a draft coming from underneath.

Interesting. He puts his saber away and stands, running his hands along the sides of the painting. To his excitement, he finds a seam in the wall, hidden well by the frame. He grins and reaches out with the Force. If this is the home of a Jedi, they undoubtedly would have a secret door that is Force activated! Maybe I can figure out how to put this in my room...

The section of the wall shutters and then slides backward, revealing a darkened room.

"Oh wizard," Anakin mutters to himself, pulling his saber out. He is about to walk into the room when he turns, looking to see if Obi-Wan is anywhere near. He probably should tell his master what he found, but maybe checking it out first would be a good idea. He would hate to take him away from his search for a dead-end...

He will call for him if he finds something. If this is where the artifact is, then he can say he found it all by himself!

Anakin steps into the room, using his lightsaber to light his path. It is larger than he expected, just a desk in the far corner and a bookshelf that is now empty and covered in cobwebs. He walks right up to the desk, giddiness running through him as he spots a cube in the center of the table. He picks it up, turning it around in his hands to examine it.

The holo they gave was dark, but this seems to be the artifact! It is a dark metalloid material with markings that do look like a Holocron, but it doesn't glow blue as the ones he has seen. In fact... it doesn't seem to be a Holocron at all. If it is a Jedi thing, maybe it too responds to the Force? He closes his eyes, trying to get some sort of signature from the object, but it is like it is just out of reach for him.

Strange. He decides to show Obi-Wan and walks out of the secret room. In the light of the main room, now Anakin can see there is a latch. Oh duh, it's a box!

"Hey Master, come look at this," he calls, as he undoes the latch.

"One moment, Anakin."

With the latch open, Anakin tugs at both ends, and the cube opens at the center, sending something from within rattling out and onto the floor under the bed. He cringes, hoping he didn't break whatever it is. He crouches down, feeling around the dusty floor until his hands lie on something cool and metalloid. He draws it out, his eyes widening when he realizes it's a necklace.

The necklace from the portrait. Its teardrop design is smooth in his hand as he examines it. Somehow, as old as it must be, it isn't tarnished.

Skywalker.

He looks over his shoulder, but there is no one there. Anakin could have sworn he heard his...

Skywalker, come to me.

He looks the other way. The voice is quiet, indistinguishable of gender though it is definitely speaking basic. When it whispers his name once more he looks down at the necklace, suddenly realizing that the voice is not coming from around him, but from it.

He flips it over, revealing the beautiful red stone. It shimmers as though it is its own light source, entrancing Anakin in its kaleidoscope of colors. He runs his thumb from the side of the necklace to the stone to feel the smooth-looking gem.

The moment he touches it, he is struck with an icy chill that runs from his fingertips down to his toes. Terror fills the Jedi Padawan, and he staggers backward, his mind telling him to drop it but his body not listening. He clenches the necklace in his freezing hands, and the world around him tunnels.

Obi-Wan is going to be so mad at me...

And then there is only darkness.

_______

A clatter and a thump resonate from the other room. Obi-Wan sighs. What has he done this time? He found nothing in the closet so he heads back to see what his padawan has gotten into this time. While he had hoped Anakin would outgrow his propensity to attract trouble, it seems the sixteen-year-old is still well endowed in finding mayhem.

"Anakin, if you managed to break something--" he trails off as a chill runs up his spine. A warning in the Force. Obi-Wan puts a hand on his lightsaber and reaches out through their bond.

On the other end, he feels nothing but static.

"Anakin!" he calls, now running into the bedroom. He skids to a stop at the sight of one of the walls caved in, an open box lying on the floor, and Anakin's body slumped to the side. Though he still senses danger, he doesn't see anything that could be causing it. He drops to his knees beside his padawan, rolling him so his head lies atop Obi-Wan's legs. He lays a hand on Anakin's cheek and pulls away in horror at how cold he is. "Anakin, wake up!" he orders, shaking him firmly.

Obi-Wan gets a sudden feeling like he's been here before. For a split second, his teenage padawan becomes his graying Master lying motionless in his arms on Naboo. Panic grips him, and he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. As quickly as he sees it, it is gone.

Freezing fingers enclose around his wrist and Obi-Wan's eyes snap open to see Anakin staring back at him, but there is something off about him. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he has time to process what is happening his body is being flung across the room with tremendous force. His back slams into the wall and he sags to the ground, vision spotting with black dots.

Anakin stands now with his lightsaber in hand, and Obi-Wan realizes what is wrong with his padawan is that his bright blue eyes now shine a dusty gold.

"Padawan," Obi-Wan says carefully as he pulls himself to his feet. He doesn't dare reach for his own lightsaber. "What happened?"

"I am no padawan," he says back, his ashen face devoid of any emotion. Though it is Anakin's voice it isn't Anakin. Obi-Wan has never heard him speak in such an inflection.

"Then do tell me who I am speaking to."

"Anakin Skywalker."

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "I'm afraid not."

"I am Anakin Skywalker, and you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, will die by my hand."

Anakin raises his saber, not in his usual starting position but in Form II-- Count Dooku's preferred form for its elegance and dueling superiority. Anakin has never once taken interest in the fluidity and discipline it takes to learn Makashi.

Obi-Wan still doesn't grab for his own weapon. Anakin lets out a guttural yelp and darts forward, jabbing his lightsaber aggressively. Obi-Wan twists out of the way much to the displeasure of whatever is controlling Anakin.

"Draw your weapon, coward," he hisses.

"What have you done to him?"

Anakin's face twists into a sinister smile that Obi-Wan has a feeling will likely give him nightmares in the weeks to come. "He is my vessel. A strong one, at that, for an apprentice. I have inserted my Life Force into him, and now we are one."

The boy lunges at him again, and Obi-Wan is able to evade him once again, but this time his shoulder is grazed by the tip of the lightsaber. He bites his lip at the red-hot pain igniting his upper body but swallows it back.

"So what is the plan then? What is your purpose?"

"Does there need be a purpose besides the chance to walk the galaxy once again?"

He stares at the boy, recognizing the tell-tale shadowing of him about to strike once again. If whatever is occupying his padawan is telling the truth, then Obi-Wan knows what he must do. He finally draws his lightsaber grimly, raising it above his head parallel to the floor in the opening move of Soresu. He points in Anakin's direction.

"You will not take over the soul of a boy for your selfish purposes," he says, and then Anakin's saber is crashing against his.

Obi-Wan has sparred with Anakin so many times throughout their training. The boy is a natural with a lightsaber, and one of the best padawan fighters among his age mates. He is quick and decisive, pouring every ounce of his endless supply of energy into each brutal strike. Even with another controlling his mind, his body still moves like Anakin. Thankfully, this is a feat Obi-Wan can easily accomplish. He blocks every strike, knowing exactly what he is planning before Anakin even knows it. Every one of his jabs is met with Obi-Wan's lightsaber waiting patiently for him to catch up. With every crackle of their blades striking another, he can see the fire in Anakin's eyes grow. His golden eyes are not unlike the piercing yellow of Darth Maul, filled with hatred and anger.

Through his anger and fatigue and many minutes of combat, Anakin becomes more and more sloppy. Obi-Wan takes this opportunity to lash out with a rapid kick to the center of his chest. He goes staggering backward in surprise, and Obi-Wan is quick to sweep his legs and cause him to go tumbling to the ground.

"I see you are not used to the awkward body of a teenager," Obi-Wan says, kicking the lightsaber out of Anakin's hand and using the Force to pin him to the ground. He thrashes against the hold, but Obi-Wan is tapping deep into his Force abilities to hold him still. He can already feel the tremendous headache blossoming in his temples.

"You know you will have to kill him to stop me," The thing says lowly. "There is no other way."

"No," Obi-Wan shakes his head. "There is always another way."

"The boy is kin to the darkness. It wraps around him and he accepts it with open arms," he grins. "Anakin Skywalker is a natural in the dark side, and so you must kill him to free him."

Obi-Wan kneels down beside the restrained boy, placing a hand on his forehead despite his attempts to pull away. He looks Anakin-who-is-not-really-Anakin in the eyes, reaching out once again through their bond.

Anakin. He calls against the distant sliver of his padawan's Force presence. Come back to me, my padawan. You are stronger than it is. Fight against it. Take hold of the light.

A girthy cackle. "You think the boy can fight me? A Master of the ancient Sith arts?"

Obi-Wan smiles. Through their bond, he hears the quiet voice of his padawan. Distant, but determined.

"And you think you can silence my padawan? I assure you, I have tried. Many times."

The darkness that taints the Force suddenly begins to flicker, and the Sith's prideful face flickers with sudden worry. "This is-- this is impossible," it says.

Master! Obi-Wan hears Anakin saying with great distress, and he lays his hands on either of his cheeks.

Anakin I am here! I am with you, keep trying! Obi-Wan is growing wearier and wearier by the moment trying to keep Anakin still.

"I will not be bested!" the Sith grunts and Obi-Wan is thrown back. He manages to stay on his feet, but his hold finally slips. The bedroom erupts in a whirlwind of raw power. Loose objects and a cloud of dust fly around at terminal velocity. Obi-Wan squints through the dust storm and sees Anakin now on his feet, his saber back in his hand and ignited in front of him. His eyes stare wildly at the blade as he rotates it in his hand before looking back up at Obi-Wan with a sinister look. "Not by you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and certainly not by a padawan."

Obi-Wan's eyes widen, "No!" he yells, lunging forward as Anakin's wrist turns to point the tip of his blade toward his own heart. Naboo flashes before him once again, and Obi-Wan is filled with a burst of energy from the Force.

He will not watch the Sith take another from him.

Obi-Wan flips through the air and manages to jam his blade between Anakin and his own lightsaber, deflecting it away from his chest and smashing his wrist in the wall. Anakin's cry of pain rings out as his shoulder dislocates from the force Obi-Wan uses. It makes him feel like his heart is tearing in two, but a dislocated shoulder is worlds better than a lightsaber through the heart. Anakin's lightsaber drops and Obi-Wan summons it to his hand with the Force. Now he is restrained once again, this time physically rather than through the Force. He can feel the heave of his padawan's chest, and the feral thrashing of his body.

Obi-Wan blankets himself with the Force, allowing it to take control of his strength. He reaches through their bond once more, pushing past the barriers the Sith had placed. To his relief, he finds Anakin's Force presence shining brightly, just lost.

I am here, padawan. Come back to me.

__________

Anakin opens his eyes and immediately closes them. His head hurts.

As his grogginess begins to clear, a few questions prod at him. Why does my head hurt? Why am I on the floor? Where is Obi-Wan?

An exacerbated exhale beside him makes him realize maybe the answer to his last question is easily answered. Anakin rolls to his side, squinting through the pounding headache at his temples. Obi-Wan lies on his back next to him, head flopped to the side so Anakin can clearly see his face. Shock pangs through him and he ignores the pain and makes himself sit up.

Bad idea. His shoulder now erupts in shooting pain, and he looks down to see it is not in the correct position. He blinks back some tears that have formed and tries to focus on his master.

Blood drips down from Obi-Wan's nose, coloring the mustache of his beard a dark crimson. He spots a char mark across his left shoulder-- from a lightsaber?-- and dark circles so dark they look like two black eyes..

"Master!" Anakin yells, grabbing him by the lapels of his robes.

He doesn't remember what happened. How they ended up unconscious in the bedroom-- which looks war-torn with kicked up dust and broken objects. A glint of metalloid catches his eye and he picks up his own lightsaber that lies in Obi-Wan's other hand. His stomach drops. What could make Obi-Wan need to dual-wield? He isn't sure he's ever actually seen Obi-Wan fight with two sabers.

Anakin reaches out through their training bond, and his master winces in his sleep. He immediately withdraws, eyes wide. Their bond is strained. Obi-Wan's shields are simultaneously locked tight and clearly on the brink of collapse. Force exhaustion.

His master isn't the only one suffering from it, either. Anakin slumps himself forward to lay on Obi-Wan's chest, careful of his dislocated shoulder. He matches his master's even breaths to calm himself down and ease his own pain. He is nearly falling asleep when he feels movement below him and fingers carefully rifle through his hair.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan says stiffly. "Why are you on top of me?"

He perks up, turning around with glee at the sound of his Master's voice.

"Have a nice nap, Master?" he says, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Obi-Wan slowly pushes himself to a sitting position. He leans his head back against the wall. "Oh, a lovely one," he says dryly. Then his expression shifts to worry. "What do you remember, Anakin?"

Question of the year. "I remember finding the secret room. And opening a box that had a necklace in it. And then... I woke up here."

"Nothing else?"

He takes a slow, deep breath. "I kind of remember hearing you telling me to come back, or something," his eyes flicker up to meet Master Obi-Wan's. "Did I pass out? Were we attacked?"

The Jedi Knight stares at him for a long moment-- so long it begins to feel uncomfortable. Anakin can tell he is not saying something important, or at least debating whether or not to actually say it.

"It seems your snooping got you into trouble again, my padawan. That necklace... held the Force presence of an ancient Sith who managed to... control you for a small while. I suspect the request was forged to lure Jedi here."

Anakin blinks with confusion. He looks at the lightsaber mark on Obi-Wan's shoulder and the pieces start to fall together.

"We fought... I did this... and I hurt you," he says, shame filling him.

"To be fair," Obi-Wan shrugs. "I accidentally injured your shoulder so don't feel bad about something you didn't consciously do."

Still, Anakin bows his head and stares at the floor. He messed up and got them both hurt in the process. Probably lost the artifact as well. When will I stop being such a screw-up?

A finger taps at his chin, and Anakin looks up to see Obi-Wan looking at him with a comforting gaze. There is no anger or disappointment in his face or the Force that flows between them. "This was not your fault, Anakin. In fact, you did amazingly. You were the one who stopped the Sith, forced it from your body and sent it back into the Force where it cannot hurt anyone anymore. You were brave and strong and didn't give up."

Anakin smiles, the negative feelings melting away easily now. Obi-Wan slowly pulls himself to his feet and reaches his hand out to help Anakin up as well.

"Come, padawan. I've had quite enough of this mission."

They begin to stagger toward the door. Anakin looks over at the painting and feels his heart skip a beat. The woman is gone now, leaving only the simple background on the canvas. In the back of his mind, he can hear her now. Feel the darkness surround you, Skywalker. Embrace it. Use it. Fuel your power and extinguish the light.

But more clearly, he can hear Obi-Wan. You are stronger than it is. Fight against it. Take hold of the light.

Their commands echo through his mind, the Sith one becoming quieter and quieter until it is gone completely. Relief finally washes through him as the darkness fades away.

They walk back through the dusty halls, slowly and leaning on one another. Anakin remembers their conversation as they walked these corridors earlier and smiles.

"I suppose this wasn't a boring mission after all,"

Obi-Wan sighs. "I should really stop wishing for mundane missions. There seems to be no such thing. We could be farming and you would find a way to attract trouble."

[mypoisonedvine]

The Bruises We Give Each Other - dark!Bucky x Reader (chapter 2)

(read chapter 1 here)

Warnings: non con smut, some violence, drugging

Word Count: 2.3k

Taglist: still just @hnryycvll @onceiwasanun and @badwolfbadwolf lol

Wandering Star

You’d learned to trust your intuition.  So, when you felt eyes on you while you were standing in your apartment, you knew exactly who it was.  

“I didn’t think you’d come back,” you said, turning to face him where he was crouched in your window.  He must have opened it while you were in the shower-- you felt the draft coming in now, somehow you hadn’t noticed before.

“Neither did I,” he responded simply.

His voice was lower than you remembered.  He hadn’t spoken at all when you’d seen him last, two weeks ago when he’d violated you on the floor.  You felt filthy even just remembering it.

“You can come inside, if you’d like,” you offered, though you regretted the wording. “Not that you need my permission for anything.”

He silently jumped down from the ledge and into your living room.  It was odd to see him in your home, when you’d only ever seen him inside the compound where you had worked before he so inconveniently killed everyone-- everyone except you, of course.  That part still made you feel very confused.  You figured he felt strange seeing you in a robe and not your work uniform.  

Yes, he certainly did have a reaction to the robe, because the first thing he did was step towards you and pull the waist-tie until it was undone.  You froze under his touch, feeling goosebumps ripple over your skin, emanating from where you could just barely the warmth of his touch on your waist through the terrycloth.

Metal fingers guided the fabric off your shoulders, and they were fucking freezing-- no wonder, with the winter weather outside.  He never seemed to mind it, never wearing much heavy gear for the cold when he was on a mission.  But he wasn’t on a mission now… was he?

You felt less uncomfortable than you expected to as you were naked before him while he was still clothed.  Even if he hadn’t seen you naked before, you got the sense there wasn’t much you could hide from him.

His hand reached up and cradled your face, and his thumb ran over the bruise on your cheek where he’d punched you.  He said nothing, but lifted his shirt to show the bruise on his gut where you’d kicked him when you tried to crawl away.

He winced as he pressed two fingers against the mark.

"Don't hurt yourself," you instinctively requested.  Why you wouldn't want him to hurt was a mystery even to you.

"Makes me think of you," he shrugged.

Pain made you think of him, too.  You had been sore all over for a long time… the marks had only just started to fade.  And though you didn’t know why he was here, you were pretty sure you would have more before he left.

His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer.  You squeaked a little, unsure of his intentions, but then he scooped you up and carried you to the sofa.  You felt awkward and small and very confused as you were folded in his arms in his walk across your living room before he set you down.  The cushions were sort of scratchy against your bare skin-- amazingly, you usually weren’t naked on this particular piece of furniture.  As he laid you back, his lips ghosted over where your neck met your shoulders and his stubble made you itchy.  Then he bit you, and you yelped.  

“Warm,” he whispered against your skin as he held you, and it was so much softer than he had any right to be.  For the first time, you really regretted the life he must have lived… or rather, the life he wasn’t able to live, because of you. 

Fingers trailed down to your legs, which he pulled apart-- gentler than you’d expected, mainly because you put up no resistance.  Two fingers prodded between your legs, and he didn’t even need to pull your underwear aside to make his next observation: “Wet,” he murmured.

You blushed, wishing you weren’t so sensitive to him.  You accepted that you weren’t afraid of him, because it couldn’t get much worse than it had already been, but you wished that you weren’t aroused by him.

Two fingers, this time skin and not machinery, pressed into you.  You hissed, still sore from his intrusion before.  He must have found that sort of thrilling because you saw his jaw clench.  Not that you were watching his face.  You’d seen that damn face every day for years, and then two weeks without it and you were wondering why he looked so different.  

As two fingers twisted inside you, his thumb pressed into your clit.  He watched you with an intense stare as your back arched and your eyes fell shut.  Closing your eyes made your heart race with fear, as if being able to see him would do anything to keep you safe.  He was strong enough to do anything he wanted to you, and you were tactical enough not to resist it.  You could choose to watch it happen or choose not to.

You hated how wet you were.  You could feel it.  You could hear it.  

His fingers slipped out of you and circled your clit, only to press them back in a moment later; it stung just as much as the first time, and you groaned.

“So tight,” he cooed, and you felt your face getting hot.  

You looked away when he began to open his jeans and free his cock.  It was all too fucking much.  He didn’t seem to mind, stroking himself with his hand, the fingers that had been inside you providing some slickness.  

You instinctively flinched away when he began to lean down, but gasped when he sucked a nipple between his lips and toyed with the bud using his tongue.  It was actually a delicate movement, and yet your sensitivity was heightened such that it made shivers run up your spine.  He moaned, ever so lightly, against your skin.  

Teeth grazed you and you yelped a little.  It was at that moment that he pressed his hips against yours, his length flush against you as he began to move and rub over your swollen clit.  His mouth left you and you watched as his head fell back in pleasure, and the sight made a series of unwanted feelings flood your brain.  

He rutted against you with a litany of groans as his cock slid through your folds, which happily supplied lubrication without much encouragement.  Just as you hoped he would finish soon and leave again, you felt his hand reach between you to guide himself to your opening.

“No more,” you whimpered.  “I can’t.  Not again.”

“You can,” he encouraged.

“I can’t,” you assured.

“You will,” he insisted, darker than before.  You whimpered but resigned yourself not to resist.

As before, your self-preservation instincts kicked in unexpectedly when he pressed the head of his cock inside you and it stung, awakening old wounds and forging some new ones as well.  Your hands flew to his chest, trying to push him off of you, but of course it was useless-- his hands wrapped around your wrists and pinned them to the armrest above your head.  He looked down at you and he didn’t seem angry or vindictive.  His face was stoic, if not a little hurt or even dejected.  You weren’t sure what to make of that.  What did he expect from you, after everything?  

He pressed further into you, slowly.  You got the impression that the pace was not about easing your pain but prolonging it, and he watched your expression morph as you tried not to cry out.  You bit your lip and forced your eyes shut, suppressing as much of your responses to his movements as you could.

He was moving so slow and there was so much of him to take, it began to feel like it would take forever.  When he finally pressed his hips against yours, he let out a little gasp before pushing against you just enough to painfully brush your cervix.

“Fuck!” you yelped, though you didn’t realize at first you’d said it in Russian.  Sometimes it slipped out. 

Nothing had ever been so deep inside you before, and you felt a headache coming on from the sheer intensity of it all.  

He pulled back just as slowly as he had pressed in, shuddering before starting the process all over again.

“S-sergeant Barnes,” you pleaded.

“Hm?” he prompted.

“More, please,” you whimpered.

“Oh, you want me to fuck you harder?”

“I want you to get this over with.”

His metal hand flew to your neck.  

“Stop acting like you don’t love it.  I know you do,” he hissed.

You didn’t even attempt to speak, just focusing on breathing as best you could with his grip around your throat.

He hooked an arm under your leg and pulled it onto his shoulder; he was so deep in you now that you yelped.

The hand on your throat moved to your jaw and gripped your face, wrenching it until you were looking up at him.

“Beg,” he commanded.

“Never,” you barked back.

And then he was fucking you, so fast and so hard and so needy, and your voice was too lost to scream so all you could do was gasp and choke.

You lost track of time at that point.  You let yourself run away into your mind until you weren’t even sure what was happening anymore.  You retained a few key moments: he wrapped his arms around you and you thought it was strange; you came twice, once right as he spilled himself inside you; there was a long silence afterward, and you might have fallen asleep at some point, or maybe you were just spaced out.

You were stirred back to reality at the sound of a kettle hissing.  You realized you were still laying on your couch, and sat up to see Barnes in your kitchen, taking the kettle off the stove and pouring some hot water over a tea bag.

You stood up onto wobbly legs and slipped on your robe from where it was discarded on the floor.

You watched him for a minute.  You’d never seen him do anything like this.  You didn’t even know if he’d had tea before.  

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said suddenly. “Yeah, you using my kettle is the least of my concerns,” you sighed.

He smirked a little, grabbing some milk from your fridge to add once it was done steeping.

“Least you could do is make me a cuppa,” you shrugged.

“Milk?”

“Sugar,” you answered instead.  “It’s by the toaster oven.”

You sat at the little table just outside the kitchen, waiting for him to come back with the steaming mugs of tea, which was only a moment of waiting.  He picked for you the one you got for supporting the local opera house.  He picked for himself a plain, dark blue one.

As he sat across from you, you expected him to say something-- he seemed like he had something to say, since he was still here.  But as he slid the cuppa over to you and took a sip of his own, he said nothing, and you two were plunged into silence.  

“Is there… something you want me to say?” you asked quietly.

“If there was, would you say it?” he returned with a raised brow.

“Depends on if it’s true,” you admitted.

“I’m curious if you have any regrets,” he relented.  “I was wondering if you would ever… apologize.”

You nodded.  “I guess that’s a reasonable thing to want.  But no, I’m not going to apologize for what happened to you--”

“What you did to me,” he corrected.

“--in the facility.”

“Why not?” 

“Everything I did to you, I did for a reason,” you explained.

“I could say the same thing,” he replied darkly.

“Well, my reasons weren’t quite so selfish,” you scoffed. 

He scoffed.  “Don’t you dare tell me that you were ‘just doing your job.’  I heard that about a hundred times that day.”

You considered that for a moment.  “I wasn’t just doing my job, but I was doing a job, and I was very good at it.  You were good at your job, too.”  You sighed.  “But, that’s all over now.”

“You chose to do what you did,” he shuddered.  “I never had a choice.”

You’d never really understood his obsession with choice, with freedom.  A side effect of his flamboyant American sensibilities, you presumed.  But you got it now, at least a bit better.

“I have a car downstairs,” he explained as he drank the last of his tea.  “We’re going to get in it, and I’m taking you to the lab.”

“The lab?  It’s destroyed.”

“I’m taking you to what’s left of it then.”

“To do what?”

“You’ll see,” he shrugged.  “Are you going to make this difficult?”

“No,” you answered quickly.

“Maybe I should use this anyways,” he proposed, pulling a syringe from his jacket-- how long had that been there?-- and brandishing it, “in case you struggle.”

“I won’t,” you promised, but you were already getting anxious, and you knew he could see it.

“You always say that,” he recalled, “but then you try to fight me.” He stepped closer to you, and popped the cap off the needle.  You willed yourself to relax but you knew he saw the fear in your eyes.

“It won’t hurt,” he promised, “it’ll calm you down.  Keep you docile.”

“No, wait--”

It was already in your neck.  Just like he predicted, you were fighting, but against sleep this time rather than him.  Logically, you knew you couldn’t will yourself to resist a drug’s effect on your body, but still a part of you was clawing at consciousness as your eyes fell shut.

[vintagedolan]

Gone in the Night - Part 6

Schedule & Info || Masterlist

Summary: Panic has set in, and the little girl who terrified the trio may just be the key to everything

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, a lil spooky

In collaboration with: @babeygray @gothlydolan @dolansficsandpics @baby-grayson @333dolans  @dolanissues @blackpinkdolan​ and @fangdolan 

Tags: @brockdolan @livelaughlolobelle @grxysgxrl @guiltydols @graydolan12 @evergreendolan

“Go, go, Grayson, fucking go!” Ethan yelled, pushing his brother’s back through the doorway. Grayson grabbed onto Y/N, dragging her with him as the three of them hurtled into a new hallway and slammed the door shut behind them. The laughter faded behind them, but the eerie feeling remained as they caught their breath, holding onto each other.

“This is insane. Bro, we’ve gotta get out of here. We need to get downstairs, if we have any chance of finding an actual fucking door out of here before she comes back.”

When had they even gone upstairs? Y/N couldn’t remember, but she didn’t hesitate to head for the large staircase that seemed to appear before them, right on Grayson’s heels as they followed Ethan’s advice, scurrying down the stairs into a narrow hallway. It seemed to have withstood a bit less carnage than the other parts of the house, old portraits framing the walls, though there was still rotting carpet beneath their feet. She felt like the eyes of the painted figures were following her as she walked, and she had no shame in stepping a bit closer to Grayson as they moved. The boys tried each door handle they passed, unsurprised to find them locked.  

“How long have we even been in here? I don’t even remember which way the front door is. I mean, we-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Ethan cut him off.

“Bro, don’t-”

“No, shut the fuck up, listen. I think I hear something.” 

Ethan held up his hand to his twin in an effort to keep him quiet, tilting his ear to the side. Y/N moved with him, trying to pick up on whatever he was hearing.

“Is that… wind?” She asked, looking back at them. Sure, there had been plenty of drafts running through the walls of the old house, the cold spots when they turned the corners, and even the wind before. But this was different, louder than before and much, much closer. 

“If it’s that loud, there’s gotta be at least a window in there. Which means-”

“Outside!” Both the boys spoke at the same time, turning to her with wide eyes. It was the first real sign they’d seen of an escape in hours, and just the thought was enough to have everyone’s nerves buzzing. 

Grayson reached for the handle first, and on instinct her hand shot out to grab his arm. 

“Wait!” 

His hand moved on top of her and he turned back to her, brows furrowed. 

“It’s my turn to open a door. You all tried the last ones, it’s my turn.” 

With the inner workings of the house that they’d discovered so far, there was no telling what was going to happen when, and if, the door even opened. The last few they’d tried down the dingy hallway had been locked, but she had a gut feeling about this one, and so too did the boys it seemed. 

“No.” Grayson’s tone was stiff. “Too dangerous. That girl could be in there.”

“Oh but it’s not too dangerous for you to open it?”

He didn’t have a rebuttal, but he was still in front of her enough to effectively block her. 

“Grayson, just let me do it. I’ll check it out and you guys can wait out here in case we need to go back out, or our phones start acting stupid again or something.”

“If you think I’m letting you go through there by yourself, you’re insane.” He shifted then, moving to block her path even more. The protective tenor in his voice was new, and if she wasn’t trying to convince him of something, it probably would have been flattering. 

“Will somebody just open the damn door so we can get the fuck outta here?” Ethan huffed from behind both of them.

She capitalized on Grayson’s momentary distraction and slid past him to open the door, surprised when the handle actually turned. She looked around for anything dangerous, anything that could pop out at her or the boys. But it was eerily still, only the dingy decor left over from a decade passed there to greet her as she stepped inside.

“The wind stopped,” Ethan mumbled, peeking through the doorway. Grayson was one step behind her, hovering a bit as she made her way into the space, which was filled with an abundance of furniture; an old desk, a few dressers, two couches and a fireplace to the left with small figurines with beady eyes atop a wooden mantle.

“Maybe there's another clue in here. We should start looking in all these drawers.” 

Ethan pulled a harmonica off the mantle with a sly grin.

“Yo Beethoven, can you play this too? Maybe it’s the secret,” he wiggled his fingers in the air and threw Grayson the small rectangle. He caught it with an eye roll.

“Can you be serious for two fucking seconds Ethan? Some of us are actually trying to get out of here.”

“Oh and I’m not? You don’t think I’m going fucking crazy too?”

In any other instance, she may have interfered, or at least thought about it. But the boy’s jeers didn’t meet her ears. Instead, she focused on what she had found, in the left corner of the room. Hidden in the shadows above was a loft of sorts, in decent shape it seemed apart from the short ladder that only had one wrung left. 

“Hey.”

The bickering continued, somehow evolving to something involving her name.

“Hey!”

Both boys turned to her with wide eyes, looking more like twins than she’d ever realized.

“I think we need to get up there. Can you all boost me?”

Their eyes somehow got wider as they looked up at the loft and then back at her.

“Boost you? You think we’re just gonna send you up there by yourself?” Grayson’s voice was incredulous, amazed she’d even suggested it. 

“You got a better idea?”

“Uh how about you, I don’t know, not getting attacked by a little demon girl while we’re down here being useless? Besides, we don’t even know if there’s a clue up there.” Ethan mused.

“Well there sure as hell isn’t one down here. Just let me see what’s up there, and if anything happens I’ll just come to the edge and… I dunno, jump?” 

“Jump,” Ethan scoffed, at the same time that Grayson said “I’ll catch you.”

Still reluctant, but seeing no other option, the boys moved beside her, squatting down and moving to lift her with her standing in their cupped hands. She hoisted herself up, needing the help of them pushing her feet up to get a leg over and gain her bearings. 

“You good?” Grayson called, breathing out a relief when she responded, standing up and dusting off her pants.

“See anything? Any clues?”

“Not yet,” she mumbled, but something caught her eye. To the right, pushed back against the wall stood something tall, covered by a white sheet. She reached for it on instinct, coughing in the dust that rained down around her as she pulled it down, revealing an antique mirror. The reflection was crystal clear, untouched by time or the elements, golden frame still shiny. 

And in the reflection stood a girl.

She was young, 7 at the oldest, in a simple blue dress, a matching ribbon tied nicely at the end of her braided brown hair. Y/N didn’t have to think - she knew it was the same girl that they’d heard in the last room, but she didn’t feel threatened by her. If anything, her maternal instincts took over, and she wanted to help her in any way that she could. 

“Do you want to go?” Her voice was small, tinkling like bells. 

“Do I want to go where?

Below, Grayson stopped chewing his lip, perking an ear up towards the direction that Y/N had disappeared out of view.

“Y/N? You say something?”

“I want you to go with me. I need to show you something,” the girl spoke again, turning to look over her shoulder. It was only then that Y/N realized that the mirror was no longer showing any of the room around her, but instead, a new hallway. It was normal, a spitting image of what the house looked like 100 years ago, with its pristine walls and its colorful carpets. 

“I can’t go with you, I can’t leave my friends here,” she said.

“Y/N? Hey, who are you talking to? Come over here where we can see you!” Grayson was truly beginning to panic now, and Ethan was just as worried, unsure of what to do but stand close to his brother. 

“If you go with me, I’ll bring you back. And I’ll show you how to get out. I promise. But you have to go with me. You have to see.”

“Y/N! Talk to me dammit!” Grayson’s voice was dangerously loud now.

She wanted to run to the edge, to look down at her friends and tell them what she was doing, but it would be no use. They’d just try to stop her, and she knew deep down that the girl wouldn’t trust anyone but her. 

“Okay. Show me.”

“You must stay quiet.”

The girl reached her hand out, and suddenly Y/N was falling. 

It was split second of limbo, and then she was on her feet again, only this time the floor below her didn’t creak, and the carpet was soft beneath her sneakers. It didn’t smell putrid anymore, but instead the remnants of a meal cooked in the kitchen warmed her nose. 

“Charlotte! Come quickly darling.” A voice called out, and to her disbelief Y/N realized she was in the mirror, in a different time, or dimension, or universe. She had no choice but to follow the young girl - Charlotte, it seemed - through the corridors until they made it to a living room of sorts, where a piano sat in the corner. It was vaguely familiar to her, but she didn’t have long to analyze it.

“That’s Papa.” Charlotte spoke out, pointing over to a chair on the other side of the room. Within it sat a tall man with a full face, a nicely groomed beard adorning his chin, and a warm smile.

If it wasn’t for the outfit, Y/N wouldn’t have been able to place him. But the ghost of it was there in his features, and her stomach tightened as she recognized the vest top, with the stripes and the white shirt beneath it. 

She was staring right at the man who’d gotten them into this mess - the one with the tickets - only it was a version of him tucked away in time, however many years ago.

“You had to see that he means well. All he ever wanted was to be entertained. That’s why he brings people here. Why he always has.” 

Y/N looked then, at the other people in the room. She’d hardly noticed them before, but as she scanned them over she caught up on details, snippets of conversation. A man with a large sword he was prepared to swallow, a pianist with sheet music tucked under his elbow. Another man who swore to be a vampire - the kind who could turn into a bat, in particular - and a woman who could tell you any line of any book without having to open the front cover. An artist with paint smudges on her hands, who swore her paintings could come to life.

The clues. She began to piece it together slowly, looking down at Charlotte. 

“Papa is a good person. Please don’t think too harshly of him, it’s all he knows how to do.”

“Charlotte. I’d like to go back now.”

Suddenly, every set of eyes in the room were on her. She’d spoken, and that had been a terrible mistake. She knew she had to run, but she didn’t know where to go, how to get back to the mirror she’d come from. They were chasing her, no doubt, and she didn’t have the guts to look back. 

“Grayson! Ethan!” She screamed their names, a faint hope that maybe, somewhere, they could hear her.

Little did she know that the boys back in her own time had managed to drag an old table into the room, giving Grayson just enough leverage to get up to the loft, where he tried to ignore the tears prickling in his eyes at the realization that she was no longer there with him. 

She ran as fast as her feet would take her, trying to retrace her steps as best she could remember. Somehow, her ears registered the sound of an odd melody, a harsh tune played out by an unfamiliar instrument.

A harmonica. 

Thank god for Ethan Dolan’s foolish nature.

She sprinted towards the sound, relieved to find a familiar enough door to barrel through. She didn’t care that someone was in there - all she cared about was getting back up to the loft and back to the mirror, the portal, whatever it was. To her relief the frame stood tall and still where she’d last seen it and she threw herself at it without a hesitation.

And then, she was in Grayson’s arms. 

“Woah, woah, what the fuck? Hey, you’re okay, it’s okay, where the fuck did you just come from?” The string of disbeliefs continued to fall from his lips but all she could do was cling to his neck and bury her face in his chest. 

“I was - and there was - and - oh god, Grayson, we’ve gotta get outta here. You’ve gotta get me out of here.”

“Okay, hey, you’re safe now, I’ve got you. Just breathe, I’m right here,” he said, holding her tighter to him, beyond relieved to have her back in his sights. In the back of her mind as she started to process that she was safe again, she ran through what she had seen, what she’d told herself to remember. The one person whose clue they hadn’t run into yet.

The woman with the paint on her hands.

“The portraits. We’ve gotta go to the portraits.”

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

check out part 7 tomorrow, posted by @dolanissues !

[mcheang]

Fjerdan Border

What if instead of being sent across the Fold, Mal and Alina were sent to the northern border? This is a draft because I feel like there could be more to follow only I’m not sure what

Let’s face it, the Darkling would only want the best trackers to find Morozova’s stag so when Mal’s incredible tracking skills earn him attention, he is reassigned.

As for Alina...does it really matter where she is assigned?

Up in the north, Alina is more vulnerable to the cold due to not using her powers (look what happened to Baghra)

She isn’t popular and her vulnerability in the snow impedes her mapmaking progress.

When Mal comes back, he immediately seeks her out, having missed her after weeks of separation. He is horrified to find her near freezing.

They move away from the camp to huddle in an isolated section of the forest. Why? Because Mal wants her relocated but he doesn’t want to be separated from her either. Same goes for Alina. They need to think of a plan.

What should they do?

Desert? They would have to cross the Fold... but what is there for them here anyway? Mal has to fight Fjerdans. Alina has to fight the winter chill. But if they surivive the Volcra, they could be free.

Alina asks if Mal is willing to give up his rising career for her.

Mal: none of that matters when it comes to you. All that time we were apart, I had never realized how much I took you for granted. But now I know. And I see you, Alina.

Alina would have responded, but something caught her eye.

Alina breathed, “Mal, look.”

She spoke softly so as not to startle the majestic stag with moonlight fur and gleaming antlers.

Alina belated noticed that there were hinds following him but was distracted by the sound of Mal cursing. “Damn it. I don’t have any rope. We need to capture the stag alive.”

Alina stood in front of the stag, and blocked Mal with her shivering arms flung out wide. “Don’t you dare!”

“But Alina,” Mal entreated, “once the stag is captured, I can get reassigned. We don’t have to desert and face punishment if we’re caught.”

But Alina was stubborn as ever. “I’d rather freeze to death than give this stag to the Darkling.”

Mal: that’s treason

Alina: we were planning on it anyway!

Alina suddenly felt a snout muzzling her hair. She recalled she had been previously lying on a haystack and there must be some hay still stuck in her hair.

Giggling, she turned around and cradled the stag’s head. She felt warm when she touched the fur. It was like he was calling to her and wanted her to answer.

Alina had no idea what answer the stag was hoping for, maybe more hay or carrots. But some part of her answered anyway.

Mal: um, Alina...you’re glowing.

Alina looked down at herself before looking up at the stag. “I think he saw me freezing and wanted to help. Still think you can stomach turning him over?”

Mal grumbled but could not deny his gratitude to see Alina’s face flushed with warmth and the stag’s mystical presence.

Mal: so then what do we do?

Alina shrugged. “No clue.” She peered at the stag. “Got any ideas?”

Before Alina could see if the stag could actually talk, she heard an unwelcome but familiar voice shouting out, “the stag! Quick, get some rope!”

Alina turned around quickly, just in time to see Dubrov’s back as he ran back to camp with a few other trackers. They had probably come in search of Mal. Mikhael was easing down the slope, trying not to startle the stag.

Turning around, Alina stared deep into the stag’s eyes and urged him with a whisper. “Run! Now! Don’t come back.”

The stag didn’t move. He was still staring at her like he was mesmerized by her light show.

Mal yelled, “hurry up with that rope!”

The hinds were startled and ran off. The stag snorted but galloped after them. Mal could have sworn the stag was practically saying “Real subtle.”

Mikhael: what the hell? You startled it, Mal.

Mal: how was I suppose to know my shout would chase it off when yours didn’t?

Mikhael stared at Alina. “did the stag really make you glow?”

Alina: I was freezing! I think he wanted to help.

Mikhael shook his head. “And what about the rest of us freezing on Fjerdan lands? Sheesh. Just like the fairy tales. Pretty deer only want to help maidens while boys have to fight dragons.”

Alina snapped, “Maybe the stag wasn’t impressed with your attitude or desire to capture him!”

Dubrov returning with the tracking party but too late. Their captain believed their story about the deer, seeing the massive hoof prints for himself. But he was skeptical when not only Dubrov and Mikhael, but two more trackers, gave their witness testimony that Alina had been glowing.

Which sucked because now the captain decided to use Alina as bait, without fire to keep her warm in the clearing.

Only, Alina felt like she could summon some heat into her bones whenever she looked up at the stars for company. She didn’t want to glow again but she did miss the warmth.

Eventually the captain decided to use a different girl instead. Which made Alina unpopular with them. Like she made the switch suggestion herself. Typical.

It didn’t help that Alina started having an appetite and they could no longer scavenge her leftovers.

After maybe a month of this, of trying to map out their new border with Fjerda, Alina was surprised to see the Darkling arrive.

Looking to Mal for answers, he could only offer what he suspected. “The Darkling must really want that stag. The captain wrote a report on the whole thing as usual, to explain why we’re sitting here instead of ranging the forests.”

Only the Darkling wasn’t interested in the trackers so much as Alina.

Alina’s brain was whirring at the idea of giving her own testimony to the Darkling himself.

Darkling stared at her from his desk. “Were you tested by a Grisha examiner before?”

Alina nodded, confused. “Yes, when I was eight.”

Darkling: but they concluded you didn’t have any power

Alina: yes.

Darkling: only I was told you just summoned light

Alina: that wasn’t me. It was the stag.

Darkling: the stag can’t give you power unless you already have it. And ever since then, you’ve been able to summon heat to survive the cold nights and even your health has improved from what I hear.

Alina: I’m not Grisha.

Darkling: only one way to find out. Come here.

Alina took a few steps to the middle of the room.

Darkling: closer.

Alina walked until she was in front of the Darkling. “It wasn’t me.”

Darkling: lift up your sleeve.

Alina frowned. She pushed up her jacket sleeve, underneath, there was no sweater. But the Darkling could feel the sunshine heat somehow coating her skin.

The Darkling lifted his palms and Alina was terrified to see darkness blossoming. “Now let’s see what you can do.”

His palms met and the darkness spread.

Alina glanced around frantically and startled when she felt the Darkling’s cool fingers close around her arm.

Instantly she was met with another call. Albeit this one was more cool and bossy than the stag’s.

Alina felt something inside her start to answer. Like it answered the stag or her longing for warmth.

She was hesitant to answer the Darkling’s call. But her body had already been summoning for so long, it reacted.

To her surprise. She began to glow. It was gentle, practically hesitant in front of the Darkling, dimmer than the radiance she showed in front of the stag.

Alina looked around and saw the Grisha were slack-jawed.

The Darkling let Alina go but she still glowed like a small sun.

Alina: you’re like the stag...

Darkling nodded. “And you’re Grisha.”

Alina: wait, what?

Darkling: Ivan, see to my sleigh. We leave for the Little Palace before nightfall.

Alina shied away from the huge man in the red kefta. “Hang on! I think there’s been a mistake. I’m not what you think I am.”

Darkling: I doubt you have any idea what you are.

The Darkling turned to Ivan. “Go.” Then addressed the captain. “Keep searching for the stag. It was drawn to the sun summoner but we can’t risk the Fjerdans getting her.”

Needless to say, Alina spent the carriage ride with the Darkling protesting as he tried to explain what being a Grisha meant and lowering her défenses.

When the Darkling admitted he intends to use the stag’s antlers to amplify Alina’s abilities, she downright protested.

Darkling: is one life worth so many of Ravka’s people?

Alina hesitated. “Give me another amplifier. There has to another powerful one.”

Darkling: there is, but we would have to cross the Fold to reach it.

Alina: Can’t you amplify my powers for that?

Darkling: I have an army to run

Alina pretty much gives the Darkling the cold shoulder from that point onwards.

[junietc]

car rides with you - peter parker

peter parker x reader

pairing: peter parker/spiderman x reader

word count: 6567

warning: swearing, some asshole who doesn’t know how to respect women, and fluffffff

a/n: i’ve had this in my drafts for way too long so i decided to finish it before i forgot it ever existed. its really long but i hope you’ll enjoy a one shot with our favourite little peter benjamin parker :)

send in requests and share your love ~

If you were being honest, it wasn’t like you needed Peter to drive you to and from school each day. You had options. You could take the bus or ask your dad to pick you up or even walk. But having a personal chauffeur didn’t hurt, and if he was so nice as to offer it, then how could you say no? 

Plus, it was on his way. Sort of. It was only a detour of about a block; maybe less a detour and more an alternate route? Either way, his apartment complex was hardly two minutes away. Five minutes to walk, three with your bike, six if you hobble over with a tweaked ankle. 

This was a route you’ve been intimately familiar with since you became best friends in the seventh grade. Back when your hair was barely past your ears after a platinum blonde mishap (you still immediately dyed it green after lobbing off half of it) and Peter was wearing the same hideous Star Wars sweater every day. Somehow, both of you believed these fashion choices would help improve your social status.

Both of you were delusional. 

Luckily, by ages sixteen (you) and seventeen (Peter, by default), you’d come to your senses. Sure, Peter’s penchant for sweaters persisted – why would any one person need five of what was basically the same sweater? – but you grew your hair back out and kept its inoffensive natural colour. And neither of you wore shirts with puns on them. Not anymore.

Earlier this year, back when you were still sophomores, Peter passed his driver’s test. Now with a full license and his aunt’s old sedan, he’s taken the habit of waking up the whole neighbourhood with his obnoxious honking.

Okay, maybe not the entire neighbourhood. Really, just you. 

Still, today was no different.

“Hey, Peter,” you yelled out as you swung the door open, “How about shutting the fuck up?”

You shoved your feet into your shoes and scrambled out, backpack dangling off the crook of your elbow and burnt toast between your teeth as you try to shut the door. Peter leaned across to push open the passenger door so that you could throw your things into the backseat. Papers flew out of the half-zipped bag and spilled onto the floor. 

“For the expletives, I’m afraid I’ll have to only give you a three-star passenger rating,” Peter quipped.

You frowned deeply, pulling the seatbelt. The mechanism got stuck, and you had to pull it out a few more times again. Peter just grinned at you, clearly taking joy in your glares.

“So, ready for the chem test?” he asked, shifting the gears. 

You rolled your eyes, knowing very well that you had sent him a distressed voice message at four in the morning of you crying, saying how you were going to fail, but decided to respond as nicely as possible. “Fuck off.”

He chuckled. He pulled up to the intersection, slowing down but not stopping at the sign. 

You mock gasped. “Wow, illegal. Imagine if there were cops. I’m going to have to give you two stars. I can’t have my Uber driver potentially getting arrested.”

He sighed, shoving you with his free hand. You almost scolded him for not keeping both hands on the wheel (one star!), but he began talking before you could. “You should know, that if I ever was sent to jail, it would never be for something as lame as not stopping at a stop sign”

You snorted before rolling your eyes. “Oh? What would it be for then? Pirating video games?”

“Exactly.” He winked exaggeratedly; you shoved his face to focus back on the road. You looked down at the charred toast, which had been sprinkling crumbs all over your lap. It was far from appetizing, but your stomach growled, and you decided to scarf it down – it was that or no breakfast at all.

Peter laughed at the wince you tried to stomach what was basically a brick of carbon. (Honestly, he laughed at your expense a lot. Some friend.) “I really don’t know why you haven’t just started waking up earlier. I mean, I pick you up at the same time every day and-”

“Okay dad. I’ll start waking up earlier,” you lied.

“I hope you know that I know, you’re lying.”

You flipped him off. 

-----

Lunch seemed to be the only time that you and MJ ever got to hang out at school, so you took pride in making the most of your conversations. 

The two of you shared a laugh and through your peripheral vision, you saw Ned and Peter waving at you before coming to sit down. “So, what are we talking about?” Ned asked as you turned to face them with a smile. 

“Where MJ is going to hide my body after she kills me,” you notice her crack a smile as Ned and Peter both give you strange looks. “I was thinking maybe throw me in a river, but she thinks that burying me twenty feet underground would make it harder for the cops to find.”

The two boys looked at you apprehensively as MJ chuckled as you grinned cheerfully. “Should I be concerned?” Peter asked before you all laughed. 

“Anyways. I was thinking of finally taking my driver’s test. I decided might as well get it over with no?” MJ and Ned both nodded at your suggestion, MJ even mumbling something among the lines of “finally”. Peter on the hand looked, well, skeptical. 

“You want to take it now? Out of the blue? Why? I thought you wanted to wait until you had a job,” he questioned.

After taking another sip of the juice box you managed to steal from Ned, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I might as well get it over with. I mean, it’s been well over six months since my written test and I’ve been practicing enough with you and my dad, so I should be fine.”

Peter nodded, though a slight frown still prominent on his face. The conversation steered over to a completely different topic when Ned brought up the chemistry test causing you to pretend to bawl and everyone to laugh.

After lunch had ended, you said your goodbyes to Ned and MJ as you and Peter stopped at your locker. You were in the midst of grabbing your book when he sighed heavily, causing you to stare at him. “You know if you really wanted me to stop driving you, you could have just said so,” his voice was offended as you scoffed.

“What? Where would you get that idea from idiot?”

Huffing slightly, he shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe when you said you wanted to finally get your license.” 

“Are you serious? I’ve been meaning to get my license for the past few months you dummy. Plus, I can’t count on you to drive me everywhere. You’re busy with your own life, you know with that Stark internship and everything. Not to mention, you’re still going to have to drive me to school, since I don’t even have a car,” you roll your eyes at the boy. 

A light smile started to tug on his lips. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t trying to get rid of me,” he joked as you snorted in response.

“Oh trust me, I’ve been trying since the day I met you,” Peter pouts as you flicked him in the forehead. “Stop with that face. You know I suck up to how cute each time,” his cheeks tinged a pinkish hue as you ruffled his hair and laughed. 

“O-Oh. Yeah, haha. Sorry,” he murmured as you started to walk in the opposite direction. He caught up with you before heading over to English – which truly was your worst subject – and sitting next to each other. 

Peter fiddled with his pencil for the most of class while you aggressively took notes, wishing that Mr. Petersons would slow down and breathe.

“Alright class. That’s it for today but if everyone could just pick their partners for the project and try and get started over the weekend, that would be great,” as he dismissed everyone, you and Peter turned to each other, giving a silent acknowledgement that you were each other’s partner. 

Heading out of the classroom, you and Peter both went your separate ways. “See you after school!” you waved before heading to History.

History was blur of numbers, years and dead people that you were going to have to remember for an upcoming test, so you were thankful that the clock had finally read 3:00. Your teacher finally dismissed you, causin you to rush to the parking lot, seeing Peter already sitting in the front seat. “Hey there Parker,” you knocked on the window as he smiled and unlocked the door. 

“Hey, how was history?” rolling your eyes, you told him about the dumb test you were going to have to study for. He laughed as he buckled his seatbelt, “well at least you have the weekend to study for it. Speaking of which. When do you want to meet to work on the English project?”

Sighing slightly at the reminder that you had other things you also had to work on, you bit your lip. “Are you cool with Saturday? I’ll just walk over, maybe at like three or four,” Peter nodded as he started the car. 

“Sounds good to me.”

------

Swinging around Queens was always a nice break for Peter, seeing all of the buildings and feeling almost weightless was a nice distraction from all of his studies and duties but he always seemed to forget the time when he was doing so. 

Cue Peter – well Spiderman I guess – hurriedly swinging back to his apartment when he received a text from you saying you were at his door. “Shit, shit, shit!” he swore, finally reaching his window and climbing in. 

As he changed to some regular clothing, May’s voice echoed throughout the little apartment, talking to you as footsteps approached. “He’s been in his room for quite a while. I’m not sure what he’s been up to,” Peter was frantically trying to search for a shirt in his mess of a room when the footsteps got closer. “I have some muffins I baked earlier on the counter, feel free to have one if you get hungry. I’ll be off for a bit so just call if you –” May’s voice seems to be getting closer when she suddenly opened the door, revealing you staring at him, neck immediately snapping to turn the other direction. Peter tried covering himself with a pillow as May immediately said she had to go and left you both alone, very uncomfortable. 

You stood there, unsure of what to do and more so, where to look. Though obviously you looked away and allowed Peter to have his privacy finding a shirt, you couldn’t help but think of his shirtless figure. Since when did he start working out? ‘When did he get those abs? Is this the same Peter that literally dropped me during a drama performance last year?’ you thought to yourself, cheeks tinging pink as Peter finally put on a shirt.

“Hey, um – sorry about that. I was just –”

“Nope! It’s alright. We can just forget this ever happened,” you rushed to say, shaking your head.

Peter blushed before nodding. “Right. Let’s just erase the last two minutes from our brain.” 

You swung your legs as you sat on his bed. “You weren’t doing anything weird right? Because I know that guys - “

“That’s not what I was doing! I was just changing,” he shook his head as you laughed. “Asides from that. Do you want to start working on the project?” You nodded as the two of you got to work. 

– a few hours later –

  You were both hard at work, basically finished the first two parts of the project, leaving only the last section left when you flopped onto Peter’s bed dramatically. “I’m so exhausted,” you whined, as Peter chuckled. 

“We only have one more part to do and we’re practically done the project, so do you want to finish it now?” Peter asked, still typing in his laptop. 

You pursed your lips, pondering on the idea of that but shook your head ultimately. “Nah. I’m tired. Plus, we’ve been working our asses off the past three hours. I just need to breathe.” 

Peter laughed at your dramatics before he asking question. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”

Obviously agreeing to a break in any form, you nodded eagerly and headed over to the living room. You managed to steal a blanket from his bed and bundled yourself up as Peter turned on the television. “So, what are we watching?” he asked, flipped through the collection of old DVD’s. 

“Can we watch Star Wars?” he pleaded as you rolled your eyes, this was probably the third time this month he wanted to watch Star Wars, but you agreed to it anyways. 

“Fine, just don’t be annoying about it again.” 

------

The weekend seemed to breeze by with you desperately trying to study for the history test, and with only a few mental breakdowns and a couple thousand replays of your favourite song, you were ready.

Obviously, you severely underestimated how cruel Ms. Gail could have possibly been and left the classroom wanting to punch yourself, or her, in the face.

Luckily you didn’t have to endure another class seeing as the day was over and you could get home to your bed to cry in private. But before that of course, you were forced to see Peter’s face.

A light smile was etched on his face as you settled in the car. “So how was the –”

“Don’t bring it up. I am already debating whether or not I should throw myself off a building,” you groaned, leaning your head back on the seat. Peter laughed before trying to reassure you that it really couldn’t have been that bad, but you responded with, “no it really was. I honestly think I only got one or two answers right.”

Trying to raise your spirits, an idea popped in his head. “Do you want to get sandwiches at Mr. Delmar’s? Maybe that’ll lighten up your mood,” he suggested as a bright grin formed on your face. As devastated as you were, you were sure that a full stomach would make everything better. “Alright let’s go.”

Obviously, parking was a nightmare in central Queens, so, you decided it would be easier to walk there instead. The two of you headed to the small corner shop, making light conversation. After opening the door to the store, the two greeted Mr. Delmar, Peter snatching a packet of gummies worms and you going directly to pet Murph, Mr. Delmar’s cat. 

“Hey Murph! How’s my cutie doing?” he purred in response before you walked over to the cash with Peter. “Hey Mr. Delmar! Business running smoothly?”

He smiled at you before answering. “Of course. I’ve got my two most frequent costumers keeping me in business,” you and Peter laughed before ordering your sandwiches, paying and heading off. 

You walked back to the school and got back in Peter’s car, eating your sandwiches in the school parking lot. The two of you conversed, making up dumb scenarios and silly topics for a while. Peter nearly choked of laughter as you tried to defend Tik-Tok.

“Not all of Tik-Tok is thirst traps okay! Maybe yeah there’s a weird subsection of it, but it really depends on the algorithm! Most of the users are sane – ish,” you argued as Peter shook his head. 

“I really don’t get it. And somehow you stay up until morning watching them! Didn’t you do that when Vine was still around?” he took a pause, a dramatic gasp escaping from his lips. “You’re not saying what I think you’re saying are you?”

You placed on a hand on your chest in slight offence. “No! What? Listen, I’m not saying that Tik-Tok is better than Vine, don’t get me wrong but –”

“But what? Tell me?” he raised a brow at you, suspicious as to which team your truly were on. 

You shook your head laughing before punching him on the side of his arm. “You’re such a piss off Parker. Hey, should we get going? It’s getting late,” Peter looked at the time on his phone before nodding, taking a final bite of his sandwich before starting the car. 

“Oh, shoot you’re right,” you smugly flipped your hair, as he rolled his eyes. 

“Aren’t I always?”

----

“You said yes?” Peter demanded, trying to keep up with you as you walked to your locker. 

Sighing as you rummage through your locker you answer, “Yeah I said yes. Noah is a good guy and quite frankly, I don’t see why it would even matter to you?” 

“You said that you would think about it!”

Turning to face him as you shut your locker closed, you rolled your eyes. “That was nearly a week ago and I’ve thought about it since then. Besides, it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. It’s just one date.”

“You see that’s where it starts!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “It’s just a first date but then it’s a second and a third and soon he’s your boyfriend and he’s the one driving you to school and everywhere and then, where am I?”

You shook your head laughing slightly at the brunette. “Would you calm down Peter? You’re getting way too ahead of yourself for the first part. And yeah, maybe it’ll be more than one date but trust me you can keep driving me to school. Also we’ve been best friends since middle school, I wouldn’t just ditch you when I got boyfriend,” he seemed to calm down, nodding slowly at the words you were saying but he knew it was more than just being allowed to drive you to school. “I’ll see you around okay?” you smiled before heading off to meet up with Noah, who was standing with a group of his friends. 

Peter’s smile faded away shortly as he watched Noah wrap his arm around your shoulder. He was too busy thinking of different scenarios to notice Ned had come up beside him or the fact that you had slapped Noah’s arm away. “Hey Peter. What are you looking – oh. Sorry man,” Ned tried to console Peter, but the words seemed to pass his mind. Sighing, Ned tried to pat his shoulder. “I mean, it is kind of your fault.” 

“Excuse me?” the words seemed to catch his attention as he turned around to face his best friend. 

Ned shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “Hey not trying to be rude but maybe if you hadn’t chickened out into asking her out, you could’ve been the one dating her,” Peter stared at his friend, slightly hurt but also aware that everything he was saying was right. 

“Yeah, maybe if I had.” 

He couldn’t help but look at you wistfully, his heart almost aching at the idea of you going out with anyone else but him but at this point, what could he really do?

Waving bye to Ned, Peter headed off into his car and drove home since you were already going with Noah on your date. Once he got into his apartment, he saw May and smiled.  “Hey Pete, how was your day?” tucking his hands in his sweater pocket he sighed slightly. 

“It was okay, I guess. Erm – I’m gonna work on my assignment in the library. I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, heading off to his room to grab a few things. 

May shouted from in the kitchen, “alright! I’ll be heading off to grab a few things. Just be back before dinner!” he grabbed his suit and tried to get some fresh air to distract himself.

----

A month had passed, and you and Noah were happily dating, much to the dismay of Peter, who constantly tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his heart every time you two would display physical affection, but it was whatever. 

You got in his car and buckled your seat belt without a word to Peter. You were tired of schoolwork as you always were, so you weren’t as talkative as you usually were. Slumping into the chair and sighing heavily Peter stared at you.

“Everything okay?”

You looked at him surprised, nodding. “Of course! I’m just really exhausted. Got a lot of work, that’s all.” You sighed, looking at the text on your phone. “Hey, we should get going. May’s probably wondering where you are, and I have a date with Noah so I can’t be late.” 

The moment that Noah’s name was mentioned, Peter mentally rolled his eyes but nodded and started to drive again. 

He dropped you off at your place before texting his aunt May that he would be heading over to the library to work. He drove over and got to the library, trying to find a place to sit.

After finding a seat, he pulled out his laptop and worked for a while, maybe a few hours or so before heading back home. May still wasn’t back and Peter really needed some air, so he put on the suit before leaving through his window and swinging around. It was a nice distraction as he watched the sun slowly start to set, dealing with a few petty crimes around the neighbourhood. He was about to call it a day when he heard a shout coming from someone. 

“Hey! Get off me!” the voice sounded awfully familiar and as soon as he realized who it was, Peter’s stomach dropped. “I said get off!” you were shouting from about a block away, trying to keep a man away from you. 

“Oh, come on, you look all nice and dolled up. Why won’t you just –” the man started before you started to attack him with your bag. Sure, you weren’t scared of him, but you were really hoping he would catch a clue and leave you alone for the rest of the night. You were tired and your feet hurt, and the sun was setting so you really didn’t want to be walking alone back to your place in the dark. You’d forgotten your phone like a dumbass in your room, so there really weren’t that many options. “You bitch! I can understand why you’re walking all alone! I wouldn’t want to be near such a whore either!” the words sank into your skin as you made a disgusted face at the man. 

“Listen if you could please just leave me alone it would be –” as you placed your hands up trying to be defensive, the man grabbed onto your wrists and started to pull on you. “Stop! What are you –?”

“She said stop.”

Your head whipped around, and you saw Spiderman hanging from a web. You watched the man smirk and laugh for a minute, his hands still holding onto your wrists. “And what are you gonna do? From what I’ve heard about you Spiderman is that you’re just a kid. Don’t think that I’d fear a –”

Before he could finish his sentence, Spiderman had knocked him cold with a single blow to the face. He turned to you and tried to make sure you were alright. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting him to get knocked out. Are you alright miss?” you nodded, trying to massage your wrists, damn that guy had a firm grip. You glared at his lying figure, still holding onto your wrists. Spiderman’s eyes, or well, you couldn’t really see his eyes through his mask but whatever, moved to your wrists. “Are you sure? Here, let me see.” 

He took your wrists gently, examining the potential bruises and making sure you were okay. You smiled before taking back your wrists. “I’m alright, honestly. Thank you for your help, even though I didn’t really need it,” you stated, causing him to scoff.

“Um what? From what I saw, he was holding you and you couldn’t move,” he crossed his arms making you snort.

“That’s because I was trying to reason with him before kicking him in the balls,” you mentioned, causing Spiderman to choke in response. “Kind of stupid that guy. I mean my legs weren’t restrained. But whatever. Thank you though. I do actually appreciate it,” you smiled and was about to walk off before he kept talking. 

“Why are you walking alone? I mean it’s getting late, no? Why not call someone to drive you home?” he asked making you stop and turn around. 

You placed your hand on your hip and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought it would be nice to get some fresh air so I just decided to walk. But I’m starting to think I should just take the bus for the rest of the way back.”

“I could swing you back?” Spiderman’s offer was a surprising one, considering how this was your first time encountering the hero. Though it was a bit skeptical, you agreed to it, wanting to go home. “Just hold on tight alright?” he asked as you nodded, latching yourself to him, arms wrapped around his neck. You heard his breath hitch slightly as you wrapped your legs around his waist but ignored it as he shot a web up and started to swing. 

You screamed loudly, the adrenaline of being so high up and swing fast soon kicking in. “Do you even know where we’re going?” you shouted, the wind smacking you in the face. You rolled your eyes before giving your address to him and soon landing safely at your windowsill. Thankfully, your widow was still unlocked so you lifted it up and slid in. Before he left you tapped his shoulder. “Thanks Spiderman.” 

“Not a problem. Just being your friendly neighbourhood Spiderman.” 

He left soon, leaving you in your room, bored. You walked over to your desk and saw your phone there, a bunch of texts from MJ asking you how your date went so you went and responded. After binging a bit on Netflix, you decided to get ready for bed, knowing Peter was going to come honking at the door the next morning. 

----

“Wow, you’re early for once,” Peter joked as you sat in his car. You rolled your eyes at him, before turning on the radio. “How was your, umm, date yesterday?” he asked, clearly uncomfortable. 

You raised an eyebrow, confused as to why he had suddenly taken interest into your date with Noah. “It was the same as usual I guess,” you shrug. “Why?” 

“You walked home last night?” he huffed, causing you to readjust your position. You awkwardly nodded, because you knew he was going to go into his “you shouldn’t be walking home alone late at night” speech. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, as he stopped at the red light. “How did you know –”

He kept his eyes on the road before speaking. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you pursed your lips, shrugging once more. “I went to bed pretty early for once. I just forgot about it, I guess. Sorry,” you tried to apologize yet Peter’s face stayed stern. 

“Why didn’t Noah drop you off?”

You were shocked at his tone but answered him, trying to keep your own temper. “He said he had to go somewhere once we were done the movie. He apologized for your information. He’s got more in his life then just me.”

“No one goes on a date with someone and just leaves because they were ‘busy’,” he argued. You rolled your eyes at his behaviour. 

“Would you cut it out? It really wasn’t that big of a deal,” you snapped, crossing your arms and turning to look outside of the window. 

Peter turned to you and glared. “Not that big of a deal? I heard some guy tried to attack you,” he retorted, causing you to turn back and face him, confused as to how he knew. 

“Who told you?” 

“That doesn’t matter!” his tone was harsher, making you wince at the volume. He took a breath and regained his composure. “I just can’t believe Noah let you go home alone. Why didn’t you take the bus?” 

You were getting tired of his protective behavior, sighing. “Oh my god Peter. I’m not a helpless child, I can walk home on my own! For your information I didn’t have my bus pass. Besides it was hardly dark!” your attempts to reason with him fell on deaf ears. 

“There were so many other things you could have done though!”

“Like what?” 

“You could have called me!” 

“You were busy! You have a life that’s not taking care of me twenty-four seven! I don’t want to have to rely on you for every fucking moment of my life!” you retaliated, breathing heavily. “Besides, I didn’t even have my phone.”

“You could have –”

“Could have what Parker?” you were sick of him treating you as if you were incapable of doing anything. “I get that you’re just trying to look after me, but I can handle things on my own!” 

“Can you? Because it seems like the one time you are on your own you get yourself in situations like yesterdays!” 

“You think that it was my fault? You think that some guy trying to assault me is my fault? Are you fucking serious right now? You know what, I’ll just get Noah to drive me home tonight seeing as you clearly don’t trust me walk home on my own, because I don’t want you to drive me anymore. Don’t wait for me after school,” and with those words, the car had come to a stop and you slammed his car door, leaving Peter to slap himself across the forehead at his stupid mistake. Groaning to himself, he placed his head on the steering wheel. 

“What the fuck did I just do?”

------

It had been two weeks since you and Peter’s argument and neither of you had spoken to each other since. There had been awkward moments where you two would cross paths, like if you were hanging out with MJ and Ned, but you made it seems as if it were your sworn duty to ignore the boy. You sat with Noah and his friends at lunch and either walked home or had your dad pick you up. 

That was all until one fateful night.

It was maybe eleven, possibly even midnight, and Peter had just gotten back from patrol. It was boring that night. Nothing happened, maybe a guy flashing people down the street but asides from that, the city was calm.

He had climbed back into his room and sat down on his bed, laying up at the ceiling. He hadn’t done much the past few weeks since he didn’t have you to bother him with, so his life was boring. He laid there for a few more minutes before his phone buzzed.

He was quick to get up and grab his phone, wow addicted much, and his eyes squinted when reading the name, making sure they weren’t deceiving him.

you: hey

you: do you think you could come over?

Peter: ofc! On my way right now

you: thanks :)

The ride to your house was short and before he knew it, you were sitting beside him, awkwardly staring forewords. “Can we drive? Anywhere is fine,” you mumbled under your breath, latching on your seatbelt.

Peter nodded and started to drive off. He glanced to look at you a couple times, watching as you anxiously played with the sleeves of your sweater. Maybe ten minutes had passed, and you motioned for Peter to park the car on the side of a quiet street.

“Me and Noah broke up.”

Peter looked at her surprised. “Oh. Do you want to talk about – “

“Do you still have those movies you downloaded on your phone?” you asked quickly, avoiding his previous question. He nodded as you smiled. “Can we watch one of them in the back? I really just don’t want to think about anything.”

Peter smiled at the girl. “Anything for you.”

So, the two of you sat in the backseats of Peter’s old sedan, wrapped up in an old blanket and watching trashy romcoms together.

And it was perfect.

-----

The two of you had finally made amends after the incident and nearly a month had passed until the two of you were working on a project in Peter’s apartment.

While Peter was vigour sly typing up the document, you laid on his bed, playing with various Knick knacks he had scattered around his room.

“Peter?” He hummed his response before you continued. “What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you think about me?” 

“Sorry?” He paused his writing, confused at why you had suddenly decided to go into such a deep question.

You sat up for a second, repeating the same question. “What do you think of when you think of me?” you collapsed back down onto your back and laid your head on your arms. “Go on. Answer it?” 

He took a second to think about it before answering: “Annoying.”

“You think I’m annoying?” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes at his childish answer. 

“Undoubtedly. Every day I wonder how far I can shoot you into space,” he joked as you threw one of his pillows at his head. He caught it with ease, turning on his chair to face you. “Why are you asking? Did someone say something?” he asked defensively. 

You shook your head, playing with some strands of hair, braiding them carelessly. “No. I was just kind of sitting in my room earlier today and stumbled over a Tik Tok where a girl asked people what they thought of when they thought of her, so I just wondered about it. I asked MJ and she said that I reminded her of comfort and that one time we plotted to kill Ms. Gail,” Peter looked at you with a cocked brow as you shrugged. “I mean, at least her answer wasn’t as rude as yours.”

“Oh, come on. It was just a joke,” he tried to reason with you as you laughed. He left his desk and sat at the bottom of his bed beside you, taking a second to think about it. “I guess the first thing I think about, when I think about you, is cars.”

“Like the Pixar movie?”

Smacking you with the pillow he was holding, he rolled his eyes, “and you wonder why I said annoying?” 

“You love me,” you stated, as Peter sighed.

“No, but like cars. More so car rides,” he stopped himself, thinking of all the memories you have made in the car rides you had been on. “Like, I guess car rides with you are what I think of. Like how I pick you up and drop you every day. And all the stupid conversations we have, or watching you trying to put yourself together in the mornings when I pick you up. I think about the arguments we have gotten into, the tears that we shed, the terrible jokes you made, the movies we watched in the back of the car on your phone late at night,” a smile tugged at his lips as he thought: ‘It’s where I fell in love with you.’ He leaned his head back on the mattress of the bed. “I guess it’s just, our special thing.” 

You smiled to yourself at his answer, as you laid on your back staring at the ceiling. “That was a solid answer Parker,” you teased him. You slid down the bed, so that half of you was lying upside down and turned to face him. 

“Yeah well my real answer is just annoying,” he laughed before turning to face you. You both hadn’t realized how close you were to each other’s faces. Your nose was almost touching his as you stared into his soft brown eyes.

Neither of you moved. 

Just the sound of silence and your heartbeat going haywire.

“Do you want to know what comes to my mind when I think of you?” you asked smiling. “I think of how many times you’ve been there for me, showing up at midnight with your old sedan and your hair a mess. I think of how you always seem to be there no matter how pissed off I am at you or the world. I think of your cute face and how you always manage to make me smile. I think of how much I really love you Peter Parker. How your dorky face manages to be my entire world.”

Peter’s mind seemed to unravel as the words left your mouth. “You, love me?”

A light scoff seemed to escape your lips before you responded. “I do. Have been since sophomore year, but if you don’t feel the same, don’t feel obligated to answer. I know it’s really-“

His lips sealed over yours before another word could have been spoken. His hair tickled your eyes as you two got closer together, his hand placed on the back of your neck. The two of you parted, your eyes staring longingly into his. The two of you shared a pair of love sick smiles. 

“I guess that means you love me too?”

“You have no idea.”