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edendaphne · 4 years

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“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 16

New chapter of "Discordant Sonata"! (Feat. adorable art by @corgi-likes-chat!) Here’s a cropped preview:

>>Read it here on Ao3<< >>Read it here on Wattpad<<

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CHAPTER 16: LEGATO

Legato: “tied together”; indicates that musical notes are to be connected, so they are played (or sung) smoothly

(Mood Music: Mamma Mia (Swing version) - Opa Tsupa)

[One month later]

“Alright, I’m gonna take the side door and rush upstairs to steal the elven artifact. You got these guys?”

Chat rubbed his hands together, then picked up his controller, adjusting his grip. “Oh baby, I'm itching to try out this new greatsword.”

Marinette nudged him with her elbow. “Don’t aggro too many mobs. Space ‘em out.”

“Did you forget I can stun?" he poked her back.

"No, but you often do,” she quipped. “One sec, buff refresh."

"Ouch, my masculinity! Too bad your regen got nerfed with the last patch.”

"I’ll manage; I bought some extra potions.” She shrugged. “Remember not to blow your rage too early this time. We don't want to pull out prematurely!"

Chat gave her an incredulous look, as if she’d grown a second head.

Marinette winked at him. "I've just seen how you handle that greatsword of yours."

Chat howled with laughter. “Double dagger spec? More like double entendre spec!” He squeezed her shoulder. "You've come so far.”

“Oh, I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve,” she replied.

He sniffled and dramatically wiped away a fake tear. “I'm so proud of you."

Marinette giggled and settled herself into a comfortable position, crossing her legs on the floor. Her fingers gripped her controller tightly in anticipation. “Alright, Minou. It’s go time.”

---

Several tense minutes of yelling and frantic button-mashing later, Chat wailed in agony as he plopped backwards, “NOOOO!!! We were so close!!”

Marinette turned around, frowning. “Dude! Why’d you have to go off on your own into that side corridor?! You should’ve known it would be full of stealth enemies!”

Chat’s arms flapped around as he sputtered incredulously. “Y’know what?? We shouldn’t even be here! You’re the one who wanted to two-man a four-person dungeon!”

“We would’ve succeeded if only you’d stuck to the plan, Mr. Curious Cat!”

Chat paused to shoot her a petulant glare. “Well, I guess that means you won’t be needing this epic leather armor you’ve totally been looking for all week, that I just happened to loot from said forbidden corridor! I bet it’ll fetch a high price at the auction house!”

Marinette let out an offended gasp. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t I?”

“Give it!!” she yelped as she reached across for his controller.

“Nuh-uh! Nope, too late! You should’ve been nicer to me when you had the chance!” He clambered away, but she chased after him.

“Get back here!” she cried, catching him by the waist.

Chat continued to taunt her, holding the controller up high. “Gee, I wonder what kind of trinket I could buy with all the gold I get for this,” he remarked, tapping his finger against his chin.

Marinette grabbed one of the throw pillows from the chaise and thwacked it against him.

“I’m gonna tell Ladybug about your evil deeds!” she threatened.

Chat grabbed another pillow with his free arm and swatted her back with a laugh. “She won’t believe you! I’m her beloved partner, after all!”

“Wanna bet?”

Before he could reply, Marinette tackled him to the ground, grabbing at his belt to hold him in place. She reached for the controller, but his arm was still too long. She adjusted her grip at his side to reposition herself.

Chat squirmed at her touch and yelped, “ACK!! That tickles!”

Marinette’s eyes widened and she looked up at him, a devilish smirk slowly slithering across her face. She crawled on top of him, securing her legs on either side of his hips. And with that, her fingers went to work, mercilessly tickling his ribs and obliques.

Chat screeched and wiggled, desperately trying to scoot away from but failing every time.

“Surrender!” she commanded, continuing her onslaught.

He answered rebelliously between cackles, “Never! But I may scream.”

He thrashed and tried to squirm away, but she had him right where she wanted him. Chat laughed so hard that his eyes began to water, and he begged for mercy in between belly laughs.

Finally sensing her opening, Marinette got ahold of the controller, yanking it away from his lowered arm.

“AHA!” she cried, lifting her arm triumphantly.

Chat’s eyes grew wide and his mouth twisted into an indignant pout, then he used his enhanced strength to lift his hips off the ground, reversing their position so she was the one being pinned.

Marinette gasped in horror and outrage. “CHEATER!! You’re using your super strength!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m always this strong,” he quipped back, flexing his arm dramatically. He adjusted his position on top and tried plucking the controller away from her.

Despite being a bit disoriented now that she was on the bottom, Marinette maintained a death grip on the controller.

Chat grabbed her wrists and pinned them over her head and she grunted as she struggled. “Oh, how the tables have turned,” he purred as he trapped them both under a single hand. His other hand trailed down to her waist, poking experimentally, then extending his claws from his fingertips to amplify the sensation.

Marinette writhed and wriggled under his touch, shrieking and giggling uncontrollably.

“Do you yield?” he demanded impishly as he stared down at her flushed face a mere few inches away.

“NEVER!!” she replied tenaciously, defiantly puffing out her chest, as if straightening out her posture would somehow intimidate him, or grant her extra resilience.

“You are soooooo stubborn, Ma Minette,” he chided playfully, squeezing her sides hard and making her squeal some more. Marinette twisted and kicked vigorously, trying to escape, but to no avail.

Their antics were interrupted by a descending musical chime and agonized screams erupting from the laptop screen, which was propped on top of Marinette’s antique chest for easier viewing. The pair stopped, their heads whipping towards the source of the sound.

Their respawned characters had died while they were occupied with their tickle fight.

The pair looked back at each other, then busted into hysterical guffaws.

As they laughed and panted, Chat couldn’t help but notice the way Marinette looked with her long dark hair fanned out on the ground, her tiny freckles more prominent against her reddened cheeks. She really had become quite a stunning young woman after all these years. Despite spending their teenage years together, his attention had always been elsewhere, and he’d never really paid attention to how different she looked now, versus when they first met.

She seemed to notice him staring and smiled, and the rosiness of her cheeks seemed to intensify. Probably from the exertion, he figured. And yet, he couldn’t help but feel his own face beginning to feel hot under her gaze.

She looked like she was about to say something, but as she opened her mouth, a new sound blasted across the room; it was Marinette’s mobile phone.

He felt her twitch underneath him, and for the first time, they both realized the position they’d put themselves in. Anyone who walked in on them at this moment would surely have... questions.

Face feeling red hot at this point, Chat released Marinette’s wrists and got off of her so she could get up and check her phone. Giving him one last cheeky smirk, she stood up to see what the commotion was all about.

She gasped as she checked the screen. “Oh my goodness! I’d totally forgotten, I have a study group in fifteen minutes! I have to get ready!” She turned off the alarm and pocketed her phone, then scrambled to her desk to get her school materials prepped.

Chat’s ears twitched in response. “Oh! It totally slipped my mind as well. Good thing you set a calendar alarm. Otherwise, your classmates would’ve walked in to Chat Noir just casually playing video games at your house.”

Marinette darted to her full-length mirror to look herself over, then dashed over to her vanity to grab her hairbrush.

“Do I look alright?” she asked as she fixed her hair.

“My darling, you look positively radiant,” Chat replied theatrically, taking a seat on the chaise.

“Is my outfit okay?” she continued harriedly. “Should I change? Is my shirt wrinkled? Do these shorts make me look short? Is my hair sticking up in the back?”

Chat grinned at how flustered she was. “Helen of Troy would pale next to your indescribable magnificence, Mademoiselle.”

“Chat,” she jokingly reprimanded, but failed at containing an upwards twitch of her lips.

He shrugged feebly. “You look totally fine. But why? It’s just your classmates.”

Marinette hesitated. “Well… Just… no reason!”

She received a skeptical eyebrow in reply. He knew her better than that (not that she was very good at hiding her feelings in the first place). Giving up any further pretense, her posture drooped in response.

“Alright, alright, the truth,” she conceded with a resigned sigh.

Chat leaned forward imperceptibly, raising his eyebrows in silent query.

“My old crush is gonna be there–”

Chat gasped loudly despite himself.

“–And I wanna look nice!” she continued. “But not like, sizzling ‘I’m tryin’ to steal you from your girlfriend’ kinda hot, ya know? I’m just trying to get past him. I wanna move on. I wanna prove to myself that I’m doing okay. He's still one of my best friends. I need to show that I'm happy for him.” Then she added with a weak smile, “Plus, Alya knows what my wrestle-hair looks like, so I'd have to answer some awkward questions if I don’t look at least somewhat put together.”

Chat closed his mouth, which he hadn’t realized was in “fish gape” mode until just then. He looked down towards the floor, now understanding why she would feel so apprehensive.

Marinette was doing her best. He felt his heart swell with affection and sympathy. He had to help somehow; he always tried to be a source of extra confidence whenever she needed to face challenges. It was the least he could do for her.

Chat stood up, cleared his throat and approached her desk, swishing his tail back and forth as he pondered her words.

“I know exactly what you need,” he offered with an air of authority.

Marinette quirked an eyebrow. “You do?”

He retrieved something from her vanity and, with a flourish, he presented a tube of shiny pink lip gloss. “Ta-da! For the ‘I still look cuter than everyone in the room without even trying’ look.”

Marinette accepted the tube of lip gloss, and she couldn’t help but giggle at his sweetness and sincerity. “Sounds good to me! Thanks!” As she looked into the mirror and applied the lip gloss, she continued, “Sorry to kick you out of the house. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Chat waved it off. “Of course, don’t worry! I have somewhere I need to be this afternoon anyway, so take your time.”

“Alright. I’ll text you when we’re done, but it shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours.”

“Okey dokey!” He stood behind her and gave her a quick parting squeeze, then walked over to the floor hatch to exit her room, giving her one last wave. “Later, Maribug!”

Marinette smiled after him as he descended the stairs, amused as always at his unintentionally accurate nickname. If only she could tell him.

Someday, she told herself. Someday there will be no more secrets.

She dearly hoped that that day could come soon.

-----

(Mood Music: You Don't See Me - Safetysuit)

A short while later, Nino and Alya arrived together at the Dupain-Cheng residence. At the door, Marinette greeted them with a smile and invited them inside.

From across the street, a certain tall, blonde, bespectacled figure peeked from behind a tree, deciding to wait a few minutes before making his own entrance.

“It looks like your girlfriend was able to tame her Wrestlemania hair after all,” Plagg whispered from inside Adrien’s pocket.

Adrien poked him gently with his finger. “Hush, she’s not my girlfriend,” he admonished.

“Oh that’s right, I forgot,” Plagg replied. “You already have a secret girlfriend, according to everyone’s favorite international celebrity, Lila Rossi.”

He rolled his eyes. “Ladybug’s not my girlfriend either,” he corrected him again.

Plagg poked him back. “And how did you know I meant Ladybug?”

“W-well, I-I just…” Adrien stammered, his body growing hot in spite of the crisp autumn weather. “It was implied. Anyway, we’re not in a relationship.”

“Not yet, you mean?” Plagg inquired with a quirked brow.

“Plagg! That’s not– I mean… not that I’d mind –AUGH, wait! That’s not what I meant to say!!” he whisper-shrieked as an even more intense wave of heat traveled down his torso. “Let’s just go. I can’t spend a bunch of time trying to figure out what kind of relationship we have, or we’ll be late.”

“You could always ask her tonight during patrol,” Plagg suggested with an eyebrow waggle. “Unless your mouths find something more ‘fun’ to do instead.”

Adrien let out a choked whine, covering his face with his hands. Instead of answering, he scurried down the sidewalk, trying his hardest to ignore the muffled cackles emerging from his clothes.

He rang the doorbell and waited. A few moments passed and the door opened to reveal Alya, who greeted him with a smile.

“Hey, buddy! Glad you could make it! Come on in!”

She led him upstairs to the family room, where everyone’s study materials and textbooks were already spread out onto the dining table.

“Hi, Adrien!” Marinette called from the kitchen area as they walked past. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m just getting us some refreshments.”

Adrien greeted her back, making sure to compliment how pretty she looked today (to which she replied with a small “EEP!!” and a flustered, stuttered, “Thank you”) then he walked over to join Nino.

“Dude! Long time no see!” he said excitedly, standing up to welcome him and give him a tight hug.

Adrien chuckled as he squeezed back. “I know, right? It’s been almost twenty-four hours! I was starting to go through best bro withdrawals!” He set his backpack down and began laying out his own notes and textbooks.

A few minutes passed as they chatted and got situated, but Adrien couldn’t quite focus on the conversation. He was too busy casting (apparently not so furtive) glances towards the door, curiously awaiting whoever else would be attending their study group.

Sensing his restlessness, Nino asked, “Hey bro, you looking for something?”

Adrien shrugged. “Oh, I was just wondering–”

A loud clatter of pots and pans interrupted their conversation, punctuated by a loud “EEEEEK!!”, and the group’s heads whipped towards the kitchen in alarm.

“Marinette?” Alya asked, a worried crinkle appearing between her eyebrows.

“I’m okay!!” Marinette cried from within. “Just bumped into something and uhhh, knocked over some other stuff, no biggie!” she explained sheepishly.

Adrien turned back towards Nino and Alya. “I’ll go help,” he reassured them with a smile.

He walked towards the kitchen, watching Marinette as she put away the kitchenware she’d accidentally knocked out of a cabinet.

He rounded the corner of the bar countertop and called out cheerfully, “Heya!”

Marinette whirled around in surprise with a sharp yelp, accidentally stepping backwards onto a stray metal platter. Adrien watched as if in slow motion as Marinette fell backwards towards the hard tile floor.

“Mari!!”

Adrien reflexively darted forward and managed to catch her just in the nick of time, her body nearly parallel to the floor. He pulled her up gingerly, his arms firmly wrapped around her waist and back, their chests barely touching. They stared at each other as they panted, their breaths mingling together.

Marinette blinked, her cheeks a deep crimson, and she let out a small, nervous laugh. “Nice catch,” she said, almost as a whisper.

Adrien let out a deep, relieved sigh. “I got lucky. Sorry I startled you.”

“No, it’s okay,” she said as he pulled her closer and helped her stand up. “I really should pay better attention to my surroundings,” she continued, rubbing her arm with a rueful expression on her face.

“You’re just trying to do too much all at once, that’s all. Let me help,” he replied. “I can reach all the high shelves!” he offered, flexing his arms theatrically, trying to add some silliness into the awkwardness.

She blinked, then let out a small giggle, cheeks still red. “A-alright,” she replied. “Uh… Why don’t you pour some water into these glasses while I finish cleaning this up?”

“Sure!” he chirped happily.

Marinette smiled and resumed her task of cleaning up the fallen pots and pans. Adrien opened the refrigerator to fetch the water pitcher, then began to fill the glasses.

As he did so, he noticed there were only four glasses on the countertop. Odd. They’d need an extra one for Marinette’s (former) love, wouldn’t they? Were they coming alone or would there be extra people? His chest tingled with curiosity as he wondered who it could be.

Turning back towards him, Marinette said, “By the way, the water pitcher’s inside the refri— oh nevermind, you already found it.”

Adrien chuckled nervously, continuing to pour. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So how many glasses do we need?”

Marinette looked back at him with a perplexed look. “It’s just the four of us today, as usual. Unless you invited someone else?”

“Uhh, no, I didn’t. I just thought…”

He trailed off and froze.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Marinette had said–

...but if no one else was coming, then that meant...

No.

No way.

Was Marinette in love with Nino?? He’d had a small crush on her ages ago, but he and Alya had been together for years now. Marinette would never try to wedge herself between them, not in a million years!

Her crush couldn't be Alya either, right? Marinette had mentioned that her crush was male.

But… But that meant–

“Adrien, the water!” Marinette cried, her voice jolting him back from his thoughts.

Horrified, he realized he was still pouring water into the already-filled glass, spilling it all over the countertop.

He gasped as he realized his mistake, and set the pitcher down. “Shoot! I’m sorry, Marinette! I'll clean it up!”

He turned around to open a drawer across the way, bringing out a couple of kitchen towels to soak up the liquid.

“I kinda zoned out,” he continued, wiping up the mess. “I’m really sorry, it looks like I’m only doing more harm than good in here.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. But, um...” Her face scrunched up in confusion, “How did you know that’s where we kept the towels?”

Adrien’s eyes grew large. Oops. Why was he so full of blunders today??

“Uhh, I’ve just… I’ve seen you open that drawer before. O-on a different day,” he deflected with a shrug, obviously unable to divulge the true reason he knew his way around the Dupin-Cheng kitchen.

Marinette let out a short hmm . “Yeah, that makes sense. You must have a great memory!” She smiled with a blush and added, “Although that shouldn’t surprise me; I’ve always known you're really smart.”

Adrien forced himself to smile at the compliment, yet a cold chill ran down his spine.

“Not as smart as I should’ve been,” he muttered, speaking about more than just spilled water.

He should have noticed. He should have known. He should have realized sooner that the sadness in her eyes was because of him.

Marinette patted his arm, which tingled under her touch. “No worries, it’s just water. No harm done!” she said sweetly, her kind smile growing even wider.

But I hurt you , he thought to himself. Their conversation from that day rushed back to the forefront of his mind. An indirect and cruel rejection before she ever even got the chance to confess.

He thought back to all the times they’d hung out together as civilians since that fateful day when she came home in tears after school. She’d never treated Adrien any differently after he unknowingly broke her heart. Was she that amazing an actress, or was she just that strong?

Marinette finished putting the drinks and snacks onto a serving tray and bid him to follow her to the living area, where Nino and Alya were eagerly waiting. But how would he be able to concentrate on studying after knowing he’d been the focus of Marinette’s unrequited affections?

No, not affections. She’d used the word “love”. She was actively trying to fall out of love with him.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Nevertheless, that nagging feeling stayed with him for the remainder of the study session. -------

(Mood Music: Que reste-t-il de nos amours? - Avalon Jazz Band)

[Later that day]

Marinette squinted suspiciously.

Chat had been acting weird. Or rather, weird for him, which was saying something. He’d been in a somber mood ever since he came back that afternoon after her study session. What had happened during that brief time while they’d been separated?

Speaking of which, she recalled that poor Adrien had been acting out of sorts as well. She’d asked him if everything was alright, but his face went red and he waved it off, saying it was nothing, claiming that he was just a little tired. She hasn’t pressed the issue, especially knowing that he had a difficult home life and busy schedule. She dearly hoped he’d come to her if he ever needed someone to talk to.

In any case, she’d been surprised to find Chat just as morose and out of sorts. She’d asked him what was wrong and he instantly dismissed it. Then he promptly excused himself to his bedroom, which was unusual. Normally he was chatty as can be during dinnertime, then he would hang out with the rest of the family during the evenings, playing videogames or board games, or engaging in conversation over some tea.

But tonight, he’d hardly spoken a word. He had only answered briefly when spoken to, and it was like he could barely look her in the eye. And whenever he did, she could’ve sworn she saw something like… guilt?

She wasn’t sure. But she knew she didn’t like it.

Something was wrong. She was sure of it. Perhaps he wasn’t able to share what it was exactly due to his secret identity, but she was determined to help him fix it. She wanted to know the truth.

Tikki had lightly chastised her, saying that maybe Chat Noir had a good reason why he couldn’t share his problems, and that she shouldn’t pry or be too nosy. But this wasn’t nosiness! They were friends! And not only that; it was her duty as Ladybug to look out for his well-being, right??

Speaking of Ladybug...

They had patrol scheduled for later that night. Should she ask him again, as Ladybug? She pondered it... but no; he’d probably act tough and pretend it was nothing again. They were still working on being more open with each other, but progress was slow. Though not for lack of trying. Chat just… didn’t always know how to relax around Ladybug. He didn’t verbalize it, but it was as if deep down, he was always bracing for imminent rejection. Almost like he expected everything to be a dream, and any day now he’d wake up back at his father’s house, all alone.

Despite being allies, there were still many obstacles that stood in their way, as they both navigated through their partnership trying to find their unique dynamic, still somewhat guarded in their words and actions, to avoid hurting the other. There were invisible walls between them, and every time they’d succeeded in tearing one down, it was only to find that there was another wall behind it.

He’d mentioned before that he would never want to do anything to jeopardize their partnership. So he had a tendency to keep quiet about a lot of things, and not rock the boat, so to speak. He’d mentioned before that he trusted her implicitly. But it was like he didn’t trust himself. Or trust his luck.

He tended to be more open with Marinette, most likely because he didn’t feel that he had to watch what he said as closely for fear of rejection. Thankfully, he’d always been able to confide in her.

That is... until today.

She sighed.

Maybe he just needed an evening where he could be himself and be a normal person, as the guy behind the costume. But how to do that without revealing his identity?

Her eyebrows scrunched deeply as a tiny idea planted itself in her brain, slowly blooming into a full-blown scheme.

“I know that look,” Tikki remarked warily. “You’re up to something, aren’t you, Marinette?”

“Maybe,” Marinette replied with a sly grin. “I think Chat needs to get out of the house and spend a night on the town.” With that, she hopped off her desk chair and walked to the large, antique storage chest in the corner of her room where she kept all her current sewing projects. She rummaged around, searching for something.

“How are you going to do that?” Tikki asked with a concerned furrow of her brow.

“I’ll explain in a minute,” she replied as she found the item she was looking for, then set it down on her chaise.

She then opened her phone’s contacts and dialed Mylene’s father's number.

Tikki peeked over her shoulder. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this, but I hope it helps Chat Noir cheer up,” she remarked.

A few seconds later, there was an answer on the other side of the phone.

“Monsieur Haprèle? It’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I have a quick favor to ask, if that’s alright.”

A few moments later, the phone call ended, successfully putting the next part of her plan into motion. Monsieur Haprèle had graciously offered to stop by and drop off the items Marinette had asked for, since he needed to be in that part of town anyway for an errand.

“I think we have everything we need.” She winked at her kwami. “And now, Ladybug needs to make a phone call. Tikki, spots on!”

----

Chat closed his communicator and plopped onto his bed with a groan. Ladybug had cancelled patrol at the last minute, postponing it to the next day. He ran his hands down his face dejectedly. He supposed that was just as well. As excited as he’d been to meet with her tonight, he probably wouldn’t be very good company, since he’d been in such a crummy mood all evening.

Still… he’d really wanted to see her. Her presence always managed to do wonders for his morale.

He settled for pulling up a candid photo he’d taken of her with his staff’s camera on a different day. She was breathtaking; smiling softly while looking into the distance, the sunset a golden halo behind her, making her look like the angel she was. He smiled at the memory, and he felt his stomach fill with butterflies as they always did when he truly looked at her.

He swiped to the photo he’d taken right afterwards, when she realized he was taking a picture, her eyebrows raised in mild surprise. Then the photo after that, where she’d let out a bashful giggle, bringing her hand to her mouth, looking adorably shy. And the last photo from those few precious moments: Ladybug striking a dramatic pose, with an exaggerated pout that would put any supermodel to shame; a reminder of her sense of humor and willingness to be vulnerable and silly around him.

His smile broadened, his heart now thumping loudly in his chest. She really was so extraordinary.

A sudden rap on his bedroom door jolted him out of his daydreaming. He sat up and put his staff away as he answered, “Come in.”

The door opened, revealing a sharply dressed Marinette. He almost didn’t recognize her at first, since she’d changed out of her clothes from earlier and her hair was up in high twin buns.

“Hey Minou! You busy tonight?”

“Uhh, actually, no. Patrol got moved to tomorrow.”

“Then I have a proposition for you,” she said, her voice high and chipper. Without waiting for a reply, she took his hand and practically dragged him up to her bedroom. “But first, I need to give you something.”

They arrived at her room and she let go of his hand, then knelt by a large cardboard box he’d never seen before that was labeled “Backstage”. She unfolded the top, then started bringing out a myriad of fabrics and materials so hastily, that her movements were practically blurred. She took out a large pair of sunglasses that resembled vintage aviator-style goggles, an almost ninja-esque facemask, and set them aside.

She stood, holding something else behind her back, and walked up to him with a shy grin, her legs doing her trademark nervous shuffle.

“First of all, I- uh… I made you something. I started it a little while back and finally finished it today.” She tucked some hair behind her ear as she averted her eyes timidly, her cheeks dusted with a lovely shade of pink. “I hope you like it.”

She revealed the item behind her back, holding it up with both hands. It was a black zip-up hoodie, with muted, subtle detailing as an homage to his Chat Noir suit, but the main feature was the cat ears sewn onto the hood itself.

Chat’s jaw dropped, and his eyes practically bugged out of his head. This was the cutest, most considerate thing he’d ever been gifted.

He was at a loss for words, but thankfully Marinette interrupted, “I made it for you so you could hang out at home without having to be transformed all the time. ‘Cause I know that can be exhausting for Plagg, and it’d probably be more comfortable for you to be dressed in casual, loose-fitting clothes. Also–” she gestured towards the box behind her, “–my friend’s dad, he’s an actor, and he gave me a box full of masks and other costumes. You can mix and match, so you can have fun with it while still protecting your identity.” She extended the hoodie towards him hesitantly. “Uhh… anyway, obviously I didn’t take your measurements because it would’ve ruined the surprise, but it should fit you just fine. Cotton-polyester blend fleece is pretty forgiving like that.”

Chat gingerly accepted the garment, slowly and carefully running his fingers across the soft fabric as he admired the attention to detail his friend had lovingly crafted into a piece of clothing that would hardly ever be seen by anyone else.

He gaped at her, throat feeling quite dry. “Marinette… I don’t know what to say. Just… Thank you. This is such a thoughtful gift. I… wow.” He brought his hand up to his face, still in total disbelief. “I wish there was something I could do to show you how much I appreciate that you’re always looking out for me. There’s gotta be a way for me to thank you. Y-you’re always so… you’re just… I’m...”

Marinette stepped closer to him, their toes almost touching. The sudden proximity got his attention instantly, and she booped his nose with her index finger. “Well then, this is your lucky day. I know just the thing you can do for me.”

“Uhh, sure! A-anything you need, just ask,” he stammered, slightly confused.

She began, “Sooo, here’s what I was thinking…”

She continued to speak as she paced around the room, sort of beating around the bush, the speed of her words steadily increasing until she was talking a million miles a minute, so rapidly that he could barely understand what in the world she was talking about. Although he distinctly heard the words “movie theater”, “chaperone”, and a pleading, “You wouldn’t want me to go all by myself, would you?”

“Uhhh–” he tried to interject, still deep in his confusion.

“And before you turn me down and say, ‘But I, the dark and mysterious Chat Noir, cannot be seen in public with a civilian!’ don’t worry: I got you,” she interrupted.

She handed him the sunglasses and face mask, and said, “Detransform and put these on, along with your hoodie. You can wear these to the movies and be totally incognito!”

Chat let out a high-pitched “WHAT?!” his voice cracking once it couldn’t go any higher.

“No one will recognize you with the costume! It’s really not that conspicuous! Lots of people wear special blue-light blocking glasses when they watch movies or use their computers. And face masks have become a pretty common way to keep germs from spreading, so nobody will spare you a second glance. You’ll totally blend in with the crowd. And it’ll be my treat! Please??”

Chat rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting around nervously. This was all so sudden and he was unsure how to respond. He’d never done anything like this before.

“I-I dunno…”

Marinette continued, wringing her hands anxiously as she spoke, “I know this is totally out of the blue, but there’s this one movie I really wanna watch that’s only gonna be in theaters for this one weekend. I’d ask Alya and Nino, but it’s pretty last minute. And even if they’re available, they’d probably just make out during the entire movie anyway, and God knows being the awkward third wheel gets tiresome after a while,” she added with an eyeroll. “Adrien always has to be booked months in advance, all my other girlfriends are busy, and I really don’t wanna go alone; it’s not safe to walk around a big city all by yourself at night, y’know. So, what do you say??”

Chat looked back at her, her big blue eyes silently begging him to come along.

He suppressed a sigh, biting his lip instead. She wouldn’t want to hang out with him if she knew who he really was and what he’d done to her. She’d always been absolutely wonderful to him– to both sides of him– and he’d repaid her by being a crappy friend who’d been totally oblivious to her feelings. He truly didn’t deserve her.

He was about to decline and try to make up some excuse, but just then, her words from earlier in the day popped back into his head: “I’m just trying to get past him. I wanna move on.”

He paused. All day, he’d only been thinking about his own feelings and feeling sorry about himself, wallowing in guilt. But right now, this was about Marinette, and her needs. And at this moment, it sounded like what she needed was someone to just be with her. He could set aside his own apprehensiveness and insecurities to help her out, instead of pushing her away. After all, she always went out of her way for her friends constantly, at the cost of herself. She’d always been so selfless… to the point where she tended to neglect her own needs. He couldn’t let her keep doing that.

Determined to make things right and treat her the way she deserved for once, he nodded and smiled. “Alright, Mari. I’d love to go with you.”

Marinette let out a delighted squeal and resumed doing her excited wiggle-dance, but Chat interrupted, “On one condition! It’ll be my treat instead. After all, what good is a paycheck from the best bakery in Paris if I can’t use it to spoil my absolute favorite roommate?” He squeezed her shoulder with a wink.

Her mouth popped open in shock, then twisted into a pout. It looked like she was about to argue, but in the end, decided not to press her luck and accept his terms.

“Deal.”

#Miraculous Ladybug #Discordant Sonata #fanfiction #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #enemies AU #ML AU #aged up #Ladynoir #Marichat #Adrienette #Eden Writes #corgi-likes-chat #art by others #fanfic art #jhsldkfjhlasjkdf sorry about all the innuendo lmaooooo #I headcanon Marinette's inner sassypants comes out more while she's gaming XD

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maevemarethyu · 4 years

Text

Unexpected (1/?)

Summary: A Bucky x Reader fic

You weren’t expecting it. Neither of you were.

That didn’t mean you weren’t happy with how it ended.

Warnings: Cheating, Threats, Sad Boi Hour, Heatbreak, I’m not quite sure what else.

“Your husband is fucking my wife.”

Those were not the words you were expecting to hear when you open your door on a cool Wednesday night. Even more shocking was the man who said them: James Buchannan Barnes.

An Avenger was on your doorstep with red-rimmed eyes and a stoic look on his handsome face.

Your first instinct is to deny the accusation. Your husband loves you! You’d been married for nearly six years. You had been high school sweethearts, you never went to bed angry, you had your neighbors over for game days, hell you had just gone on your weekly date night yesterday!

A date night that he had to leave early because of an emergency at the station but, he couldn’t help that. He was a police officer for the NYPD and he couldn’t control when bad guys decided to be bad.

Right?

Yes. Your husband loves you which is why he hates working late all the time and he spoils you with gifts and flowers. He’s been planning you both a surprise trip for vacation which is why he never let you see his phone or laptop. He had gone to your favorite store to buy you a new perfume which is why his shirts smelled like rose instead of your signature lemon and rosemary scent.

Right?

The tears welling in your eyes make you realize just how much of a fool you really were and suddenly, all you want to do is scream. Your lips fall open to follow through but, your voice won’t comply and all that comes out is a single syllable.

“Oh.” You had never thought a two-letter word could hold so much heartbreak and, apparently neither did the ex-Winter Soldier because his mask of aloofness falls, revealing raw and unhidden heartbreak in his blue eyes.

The two of you stay silent for a moment, processing his words while staring at one another. The unspoken question of now what? lingers between you. What does one do when their world is shattering around them? When you find out that the person you thought was the love of your life was sleeping with another woman.

Last night… Patrick came home late and you two…

“I’m going to be sick.” You announce blearily before rushing to the bathroom and emptying the contents of your stomach. This couldn’t be happening. This was all just some sick dream because there was no way Patrick would do this to you; with the Winter Soldier’s wife no less. You were normally impeccable at spotting a liar but, you had been duped.

“I’m sorry.” The aforementioned soldier’s voice startles you and you wipe the sick from your mouth before facing him. “I-I thought you deserved to know.”

You appreciated it. Really, you did but, you couldn’t bring yourself to thank him. Ignorance wasn’t a good color on you but, you needed time to let the thoughts swirling in your mind settle. Speaking of swirling, you suddenly remember to flush the toilet with a cringe. You could handle blood, excrement, urine and everything in between but, vomit? That was your weak point and it made this whole situation burn more than the acid that had crawled up your throat.

Yet, there was no judgement in his blue eyes when you finally get the courage to look at him; only understanding.

Of course he was understanding. He was probably the only person on the planet that could understand your situation in depth. He was in the thick of it with you.

“I’m sorry too.” You manage after several deep breaths and his jaw clenches tightly. You didn’t know what you were apologizing for but, you could tell he appreciated it; his face was quite expressive for a well-known soldier turned assassin turned hero. “I’m Y/N.”

You knew he knew your name (how else would he have found you) but, you still felt the need to introduce yourself no matter how shitty of a situation you were in. His blue eyes widen in realization before shooting to his boots.

“Ah, shit. I really just rushed here and- That wasn’t the right way to go about this.” Understatement of the century. “James Barnes.” He finishes.

You would have called the way he stumbled over his words cute if your heart wasn’t currently lying in the bottom of your stomach in a million pieces with Patrick’s name written on every shard. It hurt.

“You know, I used to think writers exaggerated how heartbreak felt.” You let out a humorless and bitter laugh. “I didn’t think it could hurt this much.”

The cold tile of your bathroom floor was starting to make you butt ache but, you can’t bring yourself to move from your position resting against the bathtub and you accept this as your new life. Counting the tiles until the pain passes.

He hums in response, sliding down to the floor across from you, back against the wall. “This definitely ranks in the top five shittiest things to happen to me.”

That said something if everything you read about the Winter Soldier and HYDRA was true. You never could understand how people could treat each other so cruelly. Why someone would go out of their way to cause another pain. It just didn’t make sense to you.

Your next door neighbor’s music lilted through the walls as it did every night and it gave you an odd sense of comfort. She was a cello player and always seemed to play whenever you were having a bad day. You and James sit in silence and your eyes fall closed as you listen to her rendition of Electric Love.

It was one of your favorites but, Patrick always complained about the noise. Patrick.

The cheating, lying, manipulative piece of shit.

“How did you find out?” You hiss, immediately regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. You didn’t want to know. Right now you just wanted to curl up on your couch and eat enough ice cream to put you into a coma.

He clears his throat and you open your eyes to meet his. The pain in them shone clear and you could feel tears welling up again.

“I had my suspicions. Cla- She had been acting weird for a few months but, she kept turning it onto me. Told me I was imagining things.” His voice was thick with emotion and it broke the dam keeping the tears in your eyes. “It was Sam that saw them. He was testing out Redwing and we thought it would be funny to check on ou- the apartment; maybe tap it on the window and scare her a bit. Guess the joke was on me.”

Oh. You got sick just thinking about it. You couldn’t imagine seeing it first hand.

“I didn’t go home last night. Steve made me stay at the compound while Tony ran facial recognition on your… Tony told me he was married and I came straight here.”

His words cause you to sputter. “You mean they don’t know we know?!”

He shakes his head and a shaky breath leaves your lungs. You were half hoping Patrick got his ass handed to him Avengers style and that’s why he hadn’t come home yet; save you the trauma of confronting him yourself.

The other half of you was glad. You had more than a few choice words for your husband; the first ones being We’re getting divorced.

“I didn’t know how to face her.” He whispers and your ears barely catch it. He sounded so defeated and you were sure it matched the look on your face. You didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve this. He was a goddamn hero.

The anger doubles in your chest, making up for his lack of. You’d never seen anyone so broken, hell, you’ve never felt so broken in your entire life and the people causing it were none the wiser. Patrick had told you he was staying at the station tonight but, you knew better now.

He was with her. They were together while you and James were crying on your bathroom floor, trying to salvage what was left of your hearts.

And you were starting now.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and dial the number of one of your best friends, ignoring James’ curious blue eyes. It rings exactly two times before you hear a warm hello?

“Hey Mattie.” Trying to keep your voice level fails miserably when you sniffle. “I- uh. Can we meet for breakfast tomorrow? Foggy too?”

“Y/N. What-“ You cut him off with a please and he agrees reluctantly. You agree to meet him at your favorite diner at nine tomorrow morning. You just had to get through tonight.

“Thank you Matt. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You hang up the phone and chuck it past James’ head, through the open door, and it hit the wall with a satisfying crack; catching the Avenger off guard. You weren’t a pacifist but, you weren’t usually so violent. You almost pitied Barnes, he was seeing the worst of you tonight and it was his first time meeting you.

“Friend of yours?” He asks with a barely there smile and you nod while chuckling at your own outburst.

“He’s my best friend… and a lawyer. I want the divorce papers ready so I can shove them in Pat’s stupid face when I confront him.” You notice his jaw twitch at the mention of divorce and you eye his sour look curiously. “What? You don’t expect me to stay with him after this, do you?”

Wide eyes meet yours and he shakes his head slowly. “No. It’s not that. It’s just divorce wasn’t really common in the thirties.”

Oh his sweet summer soul. You had almost forgotten he was a man out of time; still adjusting to the new age. It made your blood boil to think that his wife would betray him like this.

“Welcome to the twenty first century. Where you don’t have to stay married to cheating spouses.” You mutter, raising an invisible glass in a toast.

“How?” He asks, catching you off guard.

“How what? How does one get a divorce?” He nods, looking lost and you don’t hesitate. “Come meet my friends with me. This is all new for me too and I trust them with my life.”

You didn’t want to mention that you honestly wanted him there because he was proof that you weren’t the only one fooled. You weren’t alone in this.

“Are you sure? I understand that its private and-“

“Privacy went out the window when your wife fucked my husband.” You scoff, mirroring his crude language from earlier; he winces before apologizing again.

Your phone goes off in the hallway, signifying the timer you had set was finished and you stand with a groan; joints popping from sitting on the floor for too long. Your mind immediately switches in to work mode; eyes going dry and breathing evening out. It was a superpower of yours; the ability to compartmentalize your feelings.

“I need to feed Laysa.” You walk past the man on the floor, missing the look of horror on the man’s face. “She gets cranky when she’s hungry.”

He doesn’t speak but, he follows you into the kitchen. You had premade the bottle so all you had to do was microwave it for a few seconds. You suppose having a stranger following you around in your home should be more worrying but, you were just happy you weren’t alone; having the ex-Winter Soldier near you felt as natural as breathing and you didn’t have the mental capacity to question why as of right now.

Barnes opens and closes him mouth a few times, looking as if he wanted to ask you a question but, unable to get the words out.

“How old is she?” He manages after nearly a minute of silence and you answer without much thought.

“Four weeks.” You hum, pulling the bottle out of the microwave and testing the temperature on your arm. “You know Ophelia’s Diner on West 49th?”

Once you’re sure the bottle is warm enough, you meet his blue eyes and a slight frown mars your face when you notice how pale he had gotten. He looks mortified but, nods anyway.

“Meet us there at nine tomorrow morning. Are you going home tonight?” You don’t know why you ask but, the thought of him having to go home and face- huh, you never actually got her name- left a rock in your stomach.

“S’gonna stay at the compound again. Make up some excuse. What about you? Are you two going to- I mean are you alright with- Is your husband?” He was stumbling on his words again and you find it oddly endearing that he was worried about you.

“Patrick is staying at the station tonight.” At least that’s what he told me You add under your breath but, its clear he hears you when his face turns grim. A painful silence envelops the room and can’t stand it so, you clear your throat and re-test the bottle.

James takes the hint and shuffles his feet, looking smaller than a man his size should. “I’m sorry again for showing up like this.”

“I appreciate you for having the balls to come here and tell me the truth.” You say with an honest, albeit dim, smile. “I’ve gotta get this to her before she gets cranky. I’ll see you tomorrow James.”

He tries to return your smile but, it comes out as more of a grimace. “Goodnight Y/N”

You watch his broad-shouldered form walk down the hall and disappear before opening the door to your spare bedroom turned nursery; weak mewls reaching you ears. You were late with the bottle and Laysa knew it. Cubs could be so dramatic.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky #bucky x y/n

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newbornwhumperfly · 4 years

Text

all i know is you’re the nicest thing

CW: references to past non-con, dissociation, panic attack, references to victim-blaming.

a spinoff gift fic of @haro-whumps brilliant, heart-wrenching group whump series. this is based on some headcanons we’ve exchanged. i hope you like it, haro!!!

Snow is thick on the ground and Galo is going stir-crazy.

He hasn’t been able to run around the mansion for a week now. While it was kind of a fun challenge to wrestle through the drifts when they were ankle-high, it’s now impossible while keeping good form. Per usual, he’s been visiting the gym regularly but that’s come to a stop with the week before Christmas, depriving Galo of even this pressure-release. He still lifts weights, pushes and pullups until his arms tremble but he’s pushed himself as far as he can without burning out. Video games always exist, obviously.

What’s really funny, Galo thinks sourly, plucking a thread loose in his coverlet, is how a little cold weather makes you realize how isolated you are. Sure, he’d never really cared for Christmas. Correction: he kinda hated it. Aside from the fact that he’s decidedly not religious, the holiday was always bound up with baggage. Being made to wear festive, uncomfortable dresses to seemingly infinite parties full of infinitely shallow, shitty guests tripping over themselves and one another to flaunt how well they were doing.

Ever since he’s gotten his own place, Galo never bothered with his own celebrations. No SO, no super close buddies to chill with, no way in hell he’s gonna make plans with anyone in his family. Outside of the occasional Christmas party at work and its flimsy temptation of free dessert and sparkly booze, he hasn’t bothered.

Now though…

Galo worries his lower lip as he sips the smoothie Sasha made for him. There’s a sprig of holly on the rim and it makes him grin. The timid woman has blended his breakfast for the past seven months and he’s come to lean on the reliability of it, the way that Sasha assembles the ingredients just so, drawing out a fresh deliciousness he’s never managed to coax from the mixture. She’s really damn good with food and he remembers to tell her so whenever the opportunity arises. It never fails to soften her.

Now he has people to take care of. Well, ok, they’re not children. But sometimes Galo feels that way, as guilty as it makes him. They’ve learned helplessness well, as they were trained to. As it was beaten into them over years and years, until they were broken, stitched back together with brutal routine. He grips his cup, fingers flexing in rage. Aunt Bethany may be cold in her grave but Galo’s anger refuses to cool, needing only a flinch or stammer or any unbidden reminder of the abuse to stoke that fury. The many weeks Galo has lived with these traumatized slaves has only peeled back fresh layers to the nightmare, all of it fuel to the simmering heat that lurks below his skin. He said he wasn’t religious but he really hopes hell is real.

Galo threads his fingers through his tuft of hair, yanking firmly to shake that train of thought off its runaway track. Now he can’t even work out until the burn of adrenaline smothers the hateful heat in his veins, he needs a new distraction other than his guild or fucking video games he’s played a hundred times before. The charity places he fills his spare hours with are all closed too, the heavy snowfall blocking most of the volunteers from service. He really is gonna go crazy, stuck for long, quiet hours in this sprawling estate with only his slaves for company. Who can’t leave and will all probably feed off his tension until they’re all an accidental frown away from a breakdown.

Fuck.

Bethany is gone but her horrors haunt this house, the ghosts waiting to strike in every corner.

Galo wonders if these guys celebrate the holidays at all. None of them can buy eachother anything, duh, but they’d probably made do? He doesn’t really have any clue what slaves would do on holidays but it’s probably none of his goddamn business. If he had to venture a guess, they probably did something special together after Bethany fell asleep. Or who knows? Maybe Christmas had shittier associations for them than even he had. That assumption was probably depressingly accurate. They were clearly devoted to this little unit of theirs and had probably found some way to make the day nice for one another.

And Galo had the nerveto feel stymied. He groaned as he threw an arm over sore eyes, blocking out the gaming livestream he was listlessly tracking on his laptop. He sure as hell wasn’t throwing a party in this gothic funhouse, most likely the first time in the group’s memory that they didn’t have to arrange an event. He was sitting pretty on millions of dollars, bemoaning his loneliness on a holiday he didn’t even celebrate in the first place.

He’s sure that the poor bunch downstairs could only dream of getting good things like he could get for himself anytime he wanted.

Oh.

Galo sprung up from his lazy sprawl against the headboard, an idea flaring up, getting brighter and warmer the more he thought on it.

This…this could be a good idea.

Could be being the operative word here, Galo determines, clicking away from the livestream to open a new search page as he reaches for his notebook and begins to flip through the pages of observations. He pauses, massaging his eyes as he considers his options. He’d have to be verycareful with this one; if he’s gonna do this, he needs to do it right or not at all. It might be a big fucking mistake, with the potential for backsliding practically a minefield under Galo’s still-balancing feet.

But it has been months. Dozens of days had crawled by without incident and he’s got wiggle room when it comes to potential fuck-ups – the last triggering incident was over two months ago and it had nothing to do with Galo’s actions. He figures he is safe for now. But, then again, he might never be safe when it comes these people – or rather, they might never feel safe with him, he acknowledges, heart panging sharply at the thought. Is it worth the risk, disturbing the fragile balance he’d so painstakingly built over the stretch of time?

Galo sighs, trying to release his tension the breath as he rubs his temple, ruffling the buzz of hair distractedly. It might be selfish, but he wants – desperately – to make them happy. To do something for them all other than just stay out of their way. There’s always the risk, in anything he says or does or doesn’t say or doesn’t do, that he will hurt them without even knowing it and it hurts. One thing he knows for sure is that he’s never been that person to resign themselves to doing nothing. Nothing is written in stone – if he has the heart and the care, he can do what he puts his mind to.

Sucking air into his lungs in one big, fortifying whoosh, Galo squares his stiff shoulders and starts typing suggestions into his search bar. He’ll start with Greyson, since his choices are easier, and then work his way down the list. He’s got less than a week and if he can do this right, and he needs – he reallyneeds – to get this one right, then they’ll be happier. And that’s all that really matters in the end. These people have never expected kindness outside of one another for their entire lives and Bethany had built the world in their minds in her image, a world of casual cruelty.

Well, it’s about the time to change that, and if Christmas is supposed to be a time of rebirth or whatever, Galo will exorcise his aunt’s presence with the ass-whooping spirit of the motherfucking season.

~ ~

Master Galo has been…animated.

Galo is almost always cheerful, at least in their presence, but the past week has thrown the man into a state of nervous energy. It isn’t…bad, as far as Greyson can pinpoint. There is an excitement which hovers around him but there is tension too. He’s been muttering under his breath a great deal, mumbling to himself in a distracted, half-aware manner as he has tended to do when he has a lot on his plate. He has been glued to his laptop a great deal as well, tending to pace with it as he wanders on socked feet between his usual haunts. Most hours, he drifts from one room to another, sometimes shutting himself into a room to make a call, sometimes contemplating something on the screen in long pauses, biting his lip, brow scrunched in focus.

Greyson has warned the rest to take care and not distract Master Galo, as he is prone to bumping into doorframes or nearly tripping as he turns about to set the device down and scribble swiftly in that bulky notebook that he carries in his pants pocket everywhere he goes. Whatever Master Galo’s true mood, Greyson knows it would not do to disturb his patterns of distraction. It has already been tense downstairs, what with Master trapped inside due to the harsh weather and lack of exercise routine. A bored Master is dangerous. His full attention could be easily caught by anything (or anyone) who got in his way right now.

And he cannot help but notice, even though he should not notice, as it is none of his business, that Master Galo keeps the screen darker than usual when he carries it around and he always closes it when Greyson or one of the others approaches. He does the same with the notebook but there is almost a caution to the movement when Galo notices he is being observed or approached, snapping the device shut and looking for a moment almost like a guilty child caught sneaking a treat. Greyson does notwant to think about what that means. He will find out soon enough, he suspects.

So for almost a week, as Christmas Eve crept closer through the soft, white hours, passing too slowly and yet too fast, Greyson watched and waited for something to happen.

~ ~

Nyla has brought several packages up to Master Galo’s room in the past week.

In the past, she wouldn’t take too much note of this. Mistress had had everything delivered to her once her knees got too bad to go out shopping anymore and she had always given Nyla’s own knees a good whack with her cane when Nyla brought her the latest purchase.

Now, however, it is unusual now and unusual is always bad. Master Galo doesn’t tend to buy things for himself, besides the occasional video game or set of clothes that he often chooses to drive out and pick up in person. Now, he has eagerly grabbed each new package from her, a pleased, giddy grin on his face every time. She doesn’t know what it means but she has noticed Master’s hyperactivity and knows that Greyson is concerned. When she allows herself to dwell on it, it concerns her too.

Master’s behavior might not be bad (yet) but Nyla certainly isn’t going to call it good. Master Galo insisted he wants Christmas to be uneventful and while Nyla would typically be beyond grateful for such a reprieve, her anxiety worsens with the lack of planning to busy her worried mind. Nevertheless, she pours the fretful energy into perfecting what she can. She can always be perfect. Nyla assures herself of this constant as she polishes and re-polishes, scrubs and sharpens and floats like a dust mote through the halls, quivering at the ready for Master’s beck and call.

Her headaches are beginning again. The season ushers them in without fail, sharp heat coiling down her neck, her jaw, up through her temples and between the eyes, at times so stabbing that she nearly staggers from the anguish. She doesn’t though, despite being uncommonly tempted to grimace against the cruel pale glare of winter sun through every window. Putting it out of her mind, she glides quietly in rooms near Master Galo.

Adjusting this, that was already straight.

Wiping this, that was already spotless.

She scrubs at a wood-stain on the balcony for the sake of scrubbing, letting the tingling cramps in her overworked wrists and sore knees distract her from the pain in her head. How much her jaw felt like it was trying to escape from her face, how much her neck seemed trying to twist off from the rest of the spine, and the constantpressure, the throbbing patch of nose, eyes, brow clamped with a spiked vice.

Mercifully, dusk was coming swiftly at the heels of the noon, the quickly dimming sky beckoning in Christmas Eve. Nyla has told Greyson to be ready with the car in case Master should want to go somewhere at the last minute. Lilah has kept the driveway shoveled with Evan’s help, bless them both, and salted. Sasha putters about the kitchen, busy with nothing as she travels in slow circles like a crumb circling the drain. They all feel it. They are all waiting. Master has been locked in his bedroom all day and most of yesterday, doing…something. Other than an occasional soft curse, Nyla has heard little when she passes (pauses, lingers, eavesdrops) by his door. She doesn’t think about what might be coming, what could be about to descend upon them swifter than the evening, better to lose herself in little meaningless labors.

Her focus thankfully helps her avoid a start when Master Galo flings his bedroom door open and pokes his head out, glancing about until his eyes catch Nyla, already risen from her futile polishing to a poised, submissive, smiling stance.

Perfect. She is perfect.

“Oh! Hey, Nyla, good – you’re exactly who I wanted. Um, is everyone…busy right now?”

Nyla parses the question. Everyone should be busy. That seems to be the right answer.

“Yes, Master Galo. Is there anything you require?”

Master didn’t seem outwardly displeased by her answer so she let herself breathe into his reply.

“Awesome. Yeah, actually. Why don’t you tell everyone to finish up whatever they’re doing? If it’s not finished, it can wait till later. After that, can you tell everyone that I wanna see them, and you too, in the living room? I’ve got some…gif-, uh, good surprises for everyone.”

Nyla can’t breathe in. She has breathed out already and can’t breathe back in. She needs to breathe in. Needs to speak.

Surprises.

For everyone.

Oh god.

Oh please.

Breathe.

She’s missed his words, muffled, underwater, swimming through too-thick air, no sound.

You need to breathe.

You need to listen.

Listen!

Air thins around the words and they make it to Nyla’s ears.

“-holiday spirit and, uh, yeah. It’s my festive mood coming out I guess. Don’t wanna give it away, you’ll all see the surprises in a moment anyway! But, yep, a few minutes? That good?”

Breathe.

She’s still smiling. She can feel it. She can feel her face, her mouth, her hands clasped in front of her. She can’t feel her lungs for some reason.

She blinks.

Nods.

She’s answered Master, right? God, please, has she answered Master’s question?

She must have. She must have. She must have answered correctly because he is grinning and nodding and thank holy god he isn’t really looking straight at her, rubbing his neck in that strange way he does sometimes. She must have answered him because he hasn’t gotten angry and he’s closing the door and she couldn’t have made it worse and she can’t make it worse and she’s perfect and she-

Perfect.

The word is like a splash of cold water and Nyla remembers how to inhale, knees buckling briefly with the dizziness of no air, catching herself on the balcony as the head-neck-spine-wrist-knee pain floods through her awareness, riding in on the icy wave of fear.

Surprises.

For everyone.

Perfect.

Enough. Nyla flicks her tender wrist with sharp, punishing taps until her limbs unfreeze. The moment she trusts her legs to carry her, she scoops up her cleaning supplies and lets her body take over. Drift gently down the stairs to inform the others. Obey. Guide the others.

Be perfect.

~ ~

It’s about fucking time.

Evan allows himself to savor this small prick of resentment on his swift walk to the living room, following only a minute behind Greyson, who’d tersely passed along the command.

Huffing harshly through his nose, he lets the tic in his jaw relax into his required, submissive blank while he tucks the flyaway hairs at his neck and forehead back into his ponytail. He doesn’t give a damn, of course, how pretty he looks. It’s not like his Master is gonna fuck him…probably. Gifts are not good; Evan should know that by now. Should know better than anyone. His gut lurches oddly at the memory of clammy, clawed hands pawing and pulling and scraping and taking what they want. He hasn’t been eighteen in a while but the space of years makes no difference and he can still smell the stench of smoky, heaving gasps. He can still feel the confusion like a sticky sweat crawl through his limbs morphing into terror-rage-shame.

It’s just the scent-memory which summons nausea, nothing more. He just…hates the smell of ash on breath. Hates that it’s been months since he’s had hands on him, years since that was new, hates that the hands fill his dreams and make him wish he had no skin to touch at all. He scratches the ghostly caresses off in the shower and tries to be grateful, bitterly, that no new hands have replaced the phantoms. Master isn’t gonna fuck him, at least, not soon. He shouldn’t have any reason to care about “looking proper”.

But Nyla would care, Evan thinks, the months-old regret clenching like an invisible vice around his heart. He owes it her to still be good, to at least try to live up to her poise.

It’s this duty which lulls him as he glides, smooth and graceful as he can, into place behind Nyla in the living room. He notices how she and Greyson have put themselves at the front, forming a fragile wall in front of Lilah, who is quivering in place and hunching to make herself shorter. Sasha has placed herself at Lilah’s left, shoulder almost brushing her bowed head as she curls ever-so-slightly inward towards the teen. Evan has been left Lilah’s right to stand at, his tall form shielding her from the room’s entrance. All of this was Nyla’s doing, of course it was. She has ensured that Lilah will, at least, not be the first to endure what is to come, has given her time to brace herself.

Evan’s love and respect for Nyla soars and nearly overwhelms him for a moment as he tries mirroring her back-straight neck-long eyes-low hands-clasped-lightly posture. She had forgiven him a while ago though softening took far longer and he is grateful for the generosity of time when he hears her hum, barely audible, in approval.

It is the only sound other than crackle-rumble of the enormous wood-fire blazing high and hot and he glances to the side to see the orange shadows dance over Lilah’s face. The dull roar has drowned out her breathing, too loud, too uneven. She hasn’t gone Quiet yet and he wishes she could when the flames reflect tears threatening to spill from her eyes already. She’s trying very hard, he can tell. His sweet baby Lilah. His sweet baby girl. He wishes so badly he could hug her right now. He wishes Master wasn’t about to hurt her for no fucking reason.

Stop it.

Those thoughts are dangerous territory and Evan will notlet himself ruin anything for everyone else. This isn’t about him. He needs to be perfect right now, for Nyla, for Lilah, for all of them. He owes them that much at the very least. It gets harder to keep his face flat, however, when Master practically strutsaround the corner.

In all the months he’s been here, Master has never looked so energized. He’s switched out his usual t-shirt and shorts for a casual suit, hair slicked, and when he strides to a halt in front of the Christmas tree, he’s almost bouncing on his heels. His hands keep clenching, unclenching, clenching with whatever jumpy giddiness that’s put that wide grin on his face. Whatever restraint has kept him tethered is loose now and it trembles through every line in his broad body.

Evan drops his gaze to the rug so he doesn’t have to look anymore, tracing the red-white-green stitching of embroidered wreaths below his shoes. He knew, he knewbetter than to trust Master Galo’s mood, so peppy, so eager, so cagey. Master’s gonna drop the act like a heavy fist down on their heads and Evan might almost be sickly satisfied if not for how a traitorous nausea is curling in his gut to swallow the rage, if not for how his whole family is trembling around him, if not for how he’d almost – almost – begun to wonder if Master was…different.

At least this stupid, stupid, stupidpunchline is about to be called. Cold comfort now with how chipper Master is, how he can barely contain himself with the sweet satisfaction of it all, to watch his slaves quiver on the cusp of long-awaited suffering. Evan just hopes its everything Master’s fucking dreamed of.

~ ~

Lilah is so confused that she wants to cry.

Usually, the tension would strain every muscle tight, fighting her mind that kept trying to Go Away, ‘cause it wasn’t time yet. She is about to cry, a little wetness escaping, wiped away quickly. She can’t cry yet, she can’t even cry yet ‘cause nothing even happenedyet and that’s bad. She can cry later. There’ll be plenty of time to cry, soon. Soon, will go Quiet and she won’t be worried about anything.

She doesn’t understand.

It’s so stupid to be confused. This just…used to be so simple and it hasn’t been the same recently and…she doesn’t get it. Evan was right, of course Evan was right, he’s always been right about Mistress things. She should’ve trusted him more about Master. But…but he…

He seemed different.

She’s never been good at the games, not like everyone else. She’s stupid about the rules anyway, and there’s so much that the rest of them all understand so easily, that they’ve learned from so many years of being good. She should know that there will always be a game. There will always be a rule. A test.

But still. He really did seem like he might be different than Mistress. His games were so very different that Lilah would wonder if he had a game at all. That’s stupid. But she had a good reason to be! Master had always been kind to her. He’d always smiled at her, real big, and he said such nice things about her work! He gave her lots of rewards too. Lots of rest and new kinds of food and special tools to make her yard-work easier, even though Lilah had always done a good job without those things.

“It’ll help you as a thanks for being so good at everything”, Master had told, all his teeth showing.

She should’ve known that was a lie. It had to be. But she’d wantedso badly to believe it.

Master never got mad when she went Quiet – kind of sad, or what looked like sad, and watchful and worried. But never mad. He’d never get mad at Lilah, even though he’s been mad at the others, been mad at Evan, even though they’re all better at this. Good enough for years. Good enough, at least, to not be punished all the time, day and night, beaten into place ‘cause she always had to be reminded of how not-good she is.

Bad girl.

Why? She just wants to know why and wanting hurts. Her heart hurts. It’s not a scared-hurt. It’s a sad-hurt, heart sore and throbbing wildly. She feels sadder than scared and that’s new and stupid but…she really did think Master woulddo something bad when nobody has been really bad and now he isgoing to and…she just doesn’t know why. But he is. And he’s happyabout it. Evan would say it’s ‘cause Master enjoys it, that he enjoys playing with them the way he does. She should listen to Evan. Why doesn’t she listen? Why can’t she ever keep up?

‘Cause you’re a bad girl.

Master’s voice rings suddenly through the room, the noisewhere there was no noise pulling Lilah’s breath in a little too quickly and Sasha barely twitches at her side. Lilah swallows a whimper before it escapes her dry throat and just…listens to Master.

Please, let him get it over with quickly,she begs to someone, anyone.

Please let it be quick.

And, horribly, selfishly.

Please.

Let him choose someone else first.

~ ~

“Ok! First off, Merry Christmas Eve to everyone.”

A silence hovers briefly and Sasha stumbles to say “Merry Christmas, Master Galo” in sync with the rest of the group. Their chorus, fortunately, hides her stammer. Master has not seemed to mind her stumbling speech but right now? There’s no doubt it that every broken phrase would tally up in whatever pain is to be doled out now.

“Thanks! So, you’re all probably a little confused by the lack of celebrations. I know my aunt had tons of parties but…that’s just not me. I don’t love parties at the best of times and I really don’t love Christmas. But I figured, hey, I can do the holiday my way and you’ve all been a big part of changing how I feel about it. Everyone’s been awesome about decorating the house beautifully and making things feel cheerful, so, thanks so much for that. I really appreciate it.”

There is another beat of silence before Nyla, sweet, sacrificing, perfect Nyla, glides forward a couple of steps, Greyson carefully sidestepping to fill the space in front of Lilah, and kneels at Master Galo’s feet before taking up his hand to kiss it.

“Thank you, Master, for your kindness. We are all honored to serve you in whatever manner you desire.”

Sasha thinks, for the first time in a while, of how starkly largehis hand is next to Nyla’s head. Cold sweat beads on her brow as she measures those palms as though examining them for the first time, how when Nyla’s lips touch the backs of Master’s fingers, the span of his knuckles bridges her brow from temple to temple. He could crushNyla’s face with a firm squeeze, shatter her delicate little nose with one heavy slap, how could Sasha everhave forgotten that, even for a moment?

And now, the little blonde woman is deliberately putting herself at those heavy feet, pulling that meaty hand towards her lovely face, flattering and appeasing, indicating that she has chosen to go first for whatever this is. She’s so brave. She’s so good. Sasha loves her so much and she wants to save her so badly. Sasha wants to curl around Nyla’s kneeling form until Nyla is hidden away by Sasha’s arms and back and she’s safe from the pain which frightens Sasha so much and which Nyla so plainly does not deserve. But she is petrified and spineless and would only make it worse.

Oh, Nyla.

Greyson.

Lilah.

Evan.

Me.

Don’t react poorly!

Sasha blinks furiously until her tears settle behind her lids, pulsing with restrained grief.

Don’t make this worse than it’s already going to be.

~ ~

Greyson should’ve been the one to approach Master Galo first.

He has a…dialogue with Master and either way, he is older, more practiced, should be quicker to know what to do. But Nyla has caught onto being what she should be in half the time it took him and has thrown herself into the line of fire with her typical grace. It sickens Greyson that he was too slow and let her take the burden.

Currently, Master’s glee seems to have abated at Nyla’s gesture and, seemingly, was not replaced with rage. Yet. He blinks down at Nyla’s upturned, sweetly submissive, face and smiles softly at her. No smirk. No secretive glint in his eye. Nyla must have done the right thing, yet again. Master has yet to…use Nyla in that way but he clearly acknowledges the faultless state of her service and it softens him towards her.

“That’s…wonderful, Nyla. Very good! Hey, while you’re down there, can you help me pull these boxes out?”

Before Nyla has even crawled over to the bottom of the towering Christmas tree, Master has crouched beside her, scooping out brightly wrapped packages from below the swoop of the low-dangling branches and jangling the glittering ornaments. Brushing pine needles off his pants, Master piles them, gesturing Nyla to copy him, onto an armchair before swinging back towards them all to clap his hands decisively and grin once more.

“Alrighty, then. So! Nyla?”

“Yes, Master Galo?”

Soft, immediate, lilting.

“I guess since you’re, uh, right here, I’ll give you your gift first. Uh, can you hold your arms out, Nyla? This one’s a bit big.”

Greyson has barely time to blink before Master has practically dropped one of the largest packages, a box of wide, flat golden cardboard topped with plaid bows, into Nyla’s quickly outstretched arms.

What?

“Sorry! Sort of threw it at you, didn’t I? You can go back to the rest, Nyla. Greyson, you’re up, my man.”

What?

Greyson’s feet carry him forward, arms already extending, body reliably obedient even while his brain is lagging.

“Here y–, oh, no need for both arms. Heh, sorry, dude, your gift’s not Nyla-big.”

What does that mean?

He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t need to understand, Greyson reminds himself harshly, he only needs to obey. So he remains blank, cups his palms as Master Galo places a little sleek black box, neatly bound in white ribbon, into Greyson’s palm. It is not professionally wrapped, Greyson absently notes, the tape was raggedly snapped off the dispenser and the bow is a bit crooked. He glides into place back at Nyla’s side, poised like emotionless pillars with their…gifts held stiffly in front of them as each person is called forth. Lilah, then Sasha, and, finally, Evan; all are handed a package, unique in size and decoration and received quietly and quickly before they are re-assembled as they were before, only now clinging to…

Most likely, the instruments of their imminent torture.

Or, as Master Galo is saying…

“Awesome. Alrighty, so, you’ve all got your gifts now. That’s good. You’ve probably noticed that they’re kind of sloppy. I wrapped them myself and…let’s just say, I wasn’t born to be a decorator. You’re just gonna have to live with it, heh. So…if you guys wanna sit down, like, on the couches or on the floor or, like, wherever you feel most comfortable opening your gifts? Just, uh, yeah. Everyone just go ahead and enjoy!”

All are silent and it is Nyla who folds elegantly to the floor and first begins to peel the wrapping back, small hands fluttering like butterflies as she unwinds the ribbon. Greyson folds alongside her, hesitating a brief moment as he catches Master’s eyes on his knees and then, slowly, sits on the ground and folds his ankles neatly in front of him. Master looks pleased when he sits this way rather than kneeling and Greyson’s jaw slightly slackens as he settles in beside Nyla. Her quick grace disguises her shaking to all but Greyson, whose arm touches her shoulder and absorbs her tremors. He leans, barely, against her, steadying her (and, honestly, himself as well) while he neatly disassembles his own package.

His box is the smallest, Greyson has noted, so he is the first to lift the lid and find…

A pair of glasses.

They are frameless at the bottom, rimmed in delicate wire that is stained redder than a ripe apple. It matches the hue of Greyson’s favored necktie. Spongy black nose pads and grips at the tips of the temples show how the eyewear would grip the face comfortably. Coiled beneath the neatly folded pair, clipped to the ends of each temple, is a fine chain, dozens of miniscule links glittering silver beneath the clear lenses.

They are…beautiful.

Greyson cannot do much more than blink. He can tell that everyone else is unwrapping slowly, glancing from the corners of their lowered eyes at his reaction and he shouldreact in some way. But he…he can’t…

What?

He finds that he is trembling as he plucks the frames from their nest of silk cleaning cloths, cradling them like they will shatter if he breaths wrong. His eyes raise almost without intent, catching Master Galo openly watching him, a soft hesitance weighing his gaze. Greyson nearly starts but Master gets ahead of a potential apology by gesturing vaguely at Greyson’s gift.

“I, uh, I peeked through B –…through your records and found your prescription. It said five years ago and I don’t know if your eyes changed since then and, well, if I’d gotten an appointment for you, this wouldn’t have been a surprise. Someone recommended I make them a tad sharper and so I did but, if you wanna adjust them or if they’re too strong just tell me… Anyways, I, uh, I really hope they see as nice as they look, heh…oh, yeah, and the chain is to keep them around your neck and the cloths are yours. Like, in case that wasn’t clear, all the stuff in the box – hell, the boxif you want it – is all yours. But, I hope you enjoy them, Greyson.”

Greyson cannot speak. He opens his mouth, moves his lips, and nothing emerges. Trembling more pronounced now, his hands pull off and fold his glasses and tuck them into his breast pocket, he does not choose to do this. He does not decide to lift the new frames to his face, unfold them, slide them into place and loop the chain behind his neck. He blinks as his body reconnects with awareness again, the missed moments of automation causing him to startle bodily with the clean, unscratched, clarity of the room before him.

There is…something inside Greyson’s chest. It is like a living thing, pressing, stretching the wall of his sternum. It takes his heart and his lungs and squeezes, mercilessly.

It hurts.

The animal is resurrected, awakened from a peaceful sleep to roar in his blood, unfamiliar with the way his insides are warm and loose and tingle like his legs after rising from hours on his knees, all the blood rushing back to the numb area. He feels and it aches and his throat is tightened by the same animal grip on his innards.

The tight, the hot, the blood-rush, the suddenness of the old tenderness is tearing at Greyson and, suddenly, all he wants to do is weep. No hollow, scraped-out loss prompting the swollen heat pounding like a pulse behind his lids. A press, inexorable as it is tender, against his sternum is cracking him from the inside and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. He abandons his typical protocol of vacancy to bite his inner cheek savagely, allowing the throb to distract and dull the other strange unfamiliar anguish below his ribs.

It hurts but Greyson can take hurt. This anguish which is not anguish will be smothered too and once he allows the ache in his gnawed mouth to ebb, he is clearer again.

~ ~

Evan is pissed.

At least, he’s really trying to be. What he really feels, right now, is confused as hell. Which angers him more, ‘cause he can take his own pain and humiliation and the games that never ever end but this is, admittedly, pretty fucking weird.

He will, in his own mind, confess to being tense, if not really surprised, about his box being the biggest. But as he lifts his…gift out of its mountain of tissue paper, he can’t feel much of anything. It’s like his head is disconnected from his shoulders and his hands move on their own to unfurl a frankly enormous blanket, at least six feet in all directions, fluffy and hedgerow-green and thick and light all at the same time.

The first thing he registers is how soft it is.

He almost starts when he feels the texture of the blanket, fingers sinking into the tufts of…what is it? Evan doesn’t know, he’s never touched something this soft. He almost expects it to melt like soap-foam between his palms but it settles, barely a weight against his folded legs. It feels nice.

Evan snaps back to clarity, lowly roving a glance around to the others. They’ve all opened their own gifts and they’re all as confusing as Evan’s. They all look like gifts, but real gifts. The sort which Mistress’ “friends” would exchange during those god-awful parties. Sasha is cradling something bright and delicate in her hands, Nyla’s got something to wear perhaps, and Lilah’s unwrapping something fluffy. He can’t clearly see what Greyson got in that little box but he’s oddly silent.

Evan tries to stay sharp. He needs to be sharp, to be aware, nothing is more dangerous than getting distracted right now. Nothing is…good about getting a present. But he’s drawn like a throat to thirst by the softness in his lap and sets his jaw before cautiously lifting the blanket like a cape over his shoulders. Tufts tickle the nape of his neck, gentle bulk shielding his torso from the open air, and Evan feels more than allows his spine to relax just a fraction.

It feels so good. He likes it so much and he hates that he likes it as much as he does. Yet even as he straightens his spine and keeps his eyes down, he cannot help but turn his cheek just barely so that the tufts brush, feather-like, against the skin.

Liking this is fucking dangerous, of course it is, of course it is, it must be fucked up somehow. But Evan is tired of caring right no. And so leans further into the softness. Maybe he’ll pay later but if he really got this as a…giftthen he’s gonna damn well enjoy it like one.

~ ~

Nyla is stalling.

Yes, she’s offered herself first. Yes, she made a show of opening her package. But…she hesitates and keeps twitching away when she tries to peel back the mountain of red tissue. She smooths is back in layers, slippery as onionskin, crackling at even the littlest movement. She’s afraid of what she’s going to find and she has no excuse for her delay but that fear which keeps her fussing with the final sheet of tissue.

It is only once Greyson has lifted his gift out its box that she finally, unforgivably late, folds back the final barrier. It is in the same moment that Greyson’s gift becomes clear in her periphery, unmistakably a new pair of eyeglasses, when she comprehends what lies before her in the box.

A dress.

A dress?

It is a dress and it’s a pretty dress and it looks expensive and it’s a real gift and Nyla almost doubles over, spasming fingers gripping the edge of the box in an effort to remain grounded. She hides her tremble with busy movements, not really thinking but allowing her body to take over and carefully pull the dress from its crinkly nest.

Nyla knows little about clothing except from what Mistress Bethany and her guests wore but she knows what quality cloth feels like and this dress is certainly a cut of the finest. It has a supple, satiny feel but it isn’t silk, more like good linen in a soft blue imprinted with a pattern like white and grey stitching. It is crisp and flat and smells a little like vanilla when she moves it. Pleated skirt which could hit just below the knee, elbow-length sleeves, slimming waist. It has a wide neckline which doesn’t plunge to her breasts but instead would barely sit above the collarbones and sit halfway down the shoulder to show off their delicate swoop. It would show off the arc of her neck perfectly.

She would look so elegant in this dress, appearing so proper and almost fancy in a modest way. It is how she has dreamed of looking, sometimes, when she neatens her apron and flicks lint off her drab, black, uncomfortable uniform. In this dress, she would look as perfect as she behaves.

Absently, she strokes the along the mysterious fabric, wondering what it would feel like against all of her flesh. She nearly shivers with pleasure at the very thought of sliding that material over her head, zipping it up nice and neat. She suppresses a second, cold, shiver when a gratitude rises, unbidden, at her presence amongst the rest of the group. Mistress Bethany had never forced any of them to strip more than a shirt in front of one another but…who knew what Master Galo might command? If they had been alone when Master Galo gave her this, she would certainly assume she was meant to unclothe and slip into her giftstraight away. Display it for him. Looking pretty in it for him.

Master has paid close attention to them all, that much is abundantly clear. Nyla glances to the side and sees how Sasha is mesmerized by her gift. It is some sort of hair ornament, a flat clip to bridge the top of the head, a glorious, darkly polished wood that had been carved with an inlay of golden roses. It won’t just hold back the cascade of ebony hair, it will brighten the wavy length which Sasha combs between her fingertips, which soothes her so. Which one would notice if one watched her for long enough. Sasha’s fingers fly between hair and the ornament, sunk fully back upon her heels as she turns the clip over in her fingers like it is glass, watching the firelight catch all the petals and vines of gold.

Sasha loves her hair. She loves her gift.

It is all gift, Nyla realizes. All of her clothes are a gift. Seeing properly enough to do tasks obediently, having glasses at all, is a gift. Everything they are allowed to have is already a gift, graciously given on strict conditions. Nyla can go without her gift – her clothes – at any time Master Galo desires.

Nyla soothes her fluttering pulse with a low breath, stilling her hands so they won’t seize the fabric and scrunch that ironed hem. She is here, right now, with her family. She traces the pattern with her eyes, counting the facsimile of stitches on the bodice as she allows that thought to ease the edge of sudden anxiety. There is absolutelyno sense in torturing herself with scenarios like that, no sense at all. There was no need. Even…ifsuch an idea did come to Master Galo, Nyla would give him no reason to play it out. She was perfect, she had always been perfect, and she will continue to be perfect; it is the only thing she can control. Nobody will have any reason to hurt her. Oh, Master can hurt her, of course he can, but he won’t have a reason to do it.

She won’t evergive anyone a reason.

~ ~

Galo hears a giggle and the surprise causes him to glance up from the game he’s been pretending to play on his phone, sprawled on the armchair several feet away from the group.

Lilah has opened her gift. A little red winter hat, ear-flaps and all, topped with a cotton puff which Lilah is poking at. She has pressed a hand to her mouth but is still grinning through her fingers as she pokes and ruffles the little poofy ball on the hat, on the matching gloves, on the tassels of the matching scarf. Lilah has lost herself in an almost open delight, youth bubbling through her nerves as she bats at her gift. Her bruises have long faded, all the cuts pinked and flat with age, so her freckles are stark. The absence of wounds makes her look so much younger than her eighteen years and her glowing grin gives her a childish glow.

Tears well in his eyes and he has to press his knuckles against his lids as he tries to swallow back the ache in his throat.

“Thank you so much, Master Galo! Thank you!”

Galo hopes his eyes are clear as he glances up again and sees that Lilah is the one who spoke. The others are clearly carefully looking anywhere but at either Lilah or Galo and, to be honest, he’s a little shocked at what amounts to an outburst from Lilah. She is trembling violently but is also clutching her gift tightly to her chest, gazing at Galo with…gratitude, heavy as worship, in her eyes.

Her grins widely at her, his gesture seeming to brighten that gratitude to a feverish glow. It’s all too much for Galo all of a sudden and he has to look away again so the tears won’t betray him and leak down his face, hoping to God that his reply doesn’t sound too choked.

“You’re welcome, kiddo. I’m…really glad you like it.”

i’m gonna throw myself into a pit now! hope ya’ll liked it!

#this is a spinoff of haro-whump's genius i want ya'll to acknowledge that #haro-whumps #gw #slavery #whump #whumpee #group whump #caretaker #spinoff fic #references to non-con #trauma #writing #past abuse #references to past non-con #panic attack #healing #fear #dissociation

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redfoxwritesstuff · 4 years

Text

Of Dust and Ashes. Chapter 31

So, good and bad news. The good, you’re getting your update right on time. More good news? The next update should also be right on time! In exchange for two bits of bad news, my laptop died. RIP and my daughter has been Covid’ed out of daycare and is stuck home until her test result comes in which means I too am stuck at home. I may be around more... or less.

Chapter warnings: None? Some blood and talk of the aftermath of the snap. Series warnings: Dude, at this point- if it can be a warning, it’s probably either already in the story or planned. Please read responsibly. Series rating: M for mature themes, graphic violence, sexual content and death.

Wanna catch up? Masterlist is here. Wanna drop me a tip? Buy me a Ko-Fi.

Chapter 31: Stew

Dee paced the waiting room. Each lap across the wood floor took less time. When she realized she was near a jog, she forced herself to slow down. It wouldn't do to work herself up.

She should have been talking to Rachel. Now was a perfect time to explain the situation with Sasha in more detail. How else could Rachel ever feel comfortable enough to trust the new woman. If Rachel didn’t trust Sasha, how could they be sure that she would stay with her?

If Rachel left the Clinic and struck out on her own, it was very likely that her baby would die. If she got lucky, she herself would survive until the spring. Dee didn’t want to put much time, effort or resources into keeping the ungrateful woman alive but she also didn’t want her to die. There had already been more than enough death.

The fact that they’d already done too much already to keep her alive gnawed at her. They had left the safety of the farmhouse to keep her alive. They killed people to keep her alive. Trust got hurt because they decided to save her. She owed it to them to survive until the spring. If saving her resulted in Trust's death, she owed it to them to survive.

Swallowing her anxiety, Dee forced herself to sit next to Rachel. “Make yourself at home.”

“What?”

“This is where we’re going to be leaving you.” Dee didn’t want to be talking. She wanted to be trying to sneak up on the exam room again. She wanted to check on Trust. But she knew she would only be a distraction. Clint wanted her to work on setting Rachel at ease.

“I thought… I thought we would be going to a house… This isn’t somewhere people can live.”

Dee took a deep breath, willing herself to be calm. Silence ticked on around them. She reminded herself that she had a different experience with the Decimation than Rachel. She had known many horrors during the last five months but she had traveled. She had seen the extent of it through a great portion of the country. She had seen what it did to cities, towns, people and most importantly, to families.

Rachel only knew what this small part of the country. She was a local to Kansas. She’d lived in the small town she had grown up in. Those who remained had banded together to protect themselves and their supplies. When King Jacob’s men had shown up and offered to absorb them at the cost of a minor tax, it was hard not to hear them out. It had seemed like a great way to gain more safety and support. The majority agreed to join with King Jacob, believing with all their hearts that they were doing what was best for the town.

They hadn’t expected that the minor tax would include most of their supplies. It had taken the King’s men looting the town for them to stand up and say enough. The result was only bloodshed and the kidnapping of most of the women and young boys.

Dee had listened to a bit of her story while they had walked through the city, on their way to the truck. If that was what had happened here, she could only imagine what happened to those living within the expanding territory of King Mason. There were so many other self named 'kings'. How were they running their territories?

Clint had mentioned that the reforming government was working with the self titled Kings on the East Coast. What were they like? How many people had they hurt? The idea made her sick.

“You can live anywhere, now. Zoning rules don’t apply.” It was a bad joke and Rachel didn’t laugh. “There’s a stove, generator, well water, rooms and beds.”

“Exam rooms and beds.” Rachel pointed out.

“True. But the walls are thick and solid. It’s out of the way and you’ll be living with a nurse.”

“But-”

“We won’t make you stay. But this is where we will bring supplies and this is where we will leave you. The rest is up to you. But if you come and go from here, come back to get supplies and leave again- you could lead others here. It’s up to you.”

Rachel was silent for a moment. Finally, she opened her mouth to say something as Clint rounded the corner. Dee shot to her feet and rushed across the room, heart beating wildly in her chest. Her stomach rolled. Blood was smeared on his hands. Though she tried, she couldn’t make her voice work.

“He’s okay.” Clint’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight hug. It was everything she needed. “He’s okay.”

“Really?” Tears slipped down her face. She told herself it was dumb to cry over a dog but couldn’t stop.

“Sasha was able to remove the bullet. Stitched him right up. He got lucky, it missed everything vital. He may always have a limp though, it nicked his shoulder blade but she doesn’t have a way to cast it.”

“He’s going to be okay?” She asked again, as if he hadn’t already said he would be.

“Yeah. Some pain meds for a few days. He’s going to be sore for a while.”

“He’ll be fine, assuming infection doesn’t set in.” Sasha added, rounding the corner. “I’d like to keep him in an exam room overnight to make sure he rests. We’ll offer food and water in a while when he’s fully awake.”

“Why can’t he stay with us?”

“I don’t want him ripping the sutures. If he’s alone in a small room, he won’t be doing much moving around. Just for tonight, maybe some of tomorrow.”

“Hopefully he leaves them alone.” Clint grumbled. “I don’t exactly have a cone of shame in the truck.”

“If you could get one, that’d be best.” Sasha offered.

“We’ll see.” Clint grumbled. His back was sore. His legs were sore. His head ached from lack of sleep and stress. “It’s not something that many would think to take and hoard at least. Shouldn’t be too hard to come by.”

“If you can, antibiotics and animal medications? Any literature they have as well- I’m a nurse, a people nurse. Not a vet. I’m playing a dangerous game of guesswork using what I’ve got on him.”

“Not likely on antibiotics. Most people know that they will need antibiotics if they get hurt. Most don’t know the names- they probably just shoved everything they could in a bag and called it a day. But a cone and maybe some books should be easy enough.” Clint didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to sleep. Still, Sasha was a valuable resource that was already paying for her keep. The least he could do was enable her to be a bigger resource. “I’ll go after we eat, swing by the farmhouse and load up supplies as well.”

“You will come back.” Sasha pressed. Though it wasn’t presented as an option or a question, it was. The way she twisted her hands and her eyebrows bunched together gave it away. She would have been a pretty young woman, before everything had happened. Clint would bet that as she came into her new life now, she would once again be a pretty young woman.

“I will. You’ll have Trust so I have to. Can’t leave the mutt behind, now can I? Dee’d be heartbroken.”

Sasha nodded and turned. “You’re all probably hungry. I’ll see what I can make.”

“Let me.” Dee insisted.

“I’ll build up the fire.” Clint offered, dragging himself to the wood stove.

“But-”

“I’d rather you give Lizzy a checkup and her shots. Rachel could use a once over as well. We can make food while you do what we can’t.”

Dee made her way over to Rachel who was still huddled in the chair. “Sasha here is going to give you and Lizzy a once over, okay? If Lizzy is strong enough, she’s going to give her her shots.”

“Why?”

“The shots? Because we want to protect her from as much as we can.”

“Herd immunity is questionable at best right now.” Clint added. It had been something that had been weighing on his mind. More than a few of Lauren’s mom friends had opted out of giving their snot goblins shots. They would give imaginary reasons full of made up science that only made sense on the most surface level. “Half the population is gone and antivax was gaining traction. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if there is a resurgence of most of the shit we gave shots for in the next decade. There may not be enough kids in some areas that had their shots, kids born now probably won’t get their shots for a while, if at all- large holes in a very thin herd.”

“I’ll give shots to any kid who needs them.” Sasha pointed out. “Other doctors, nurses still alive will too. We don’t want to see things like whooping cough and measles outbreaks becoming routine again.”

“You will. But others may only give it in exchange for food or supplies. Others still may hoard the vaccines, only giving them to members of their family or group. It’s a new world and you’ve got to stop thinking in terms of this being temporary.”

“But the Avengers, You’ll fix this.” Sasha pressed.

“No. We. Won’t.” Clint punctuated each word with the toss of a handful of twigs and kindling into the wood stove. “We- They tried. They failed. The grape that did this is dead. The stones are destroyed. It’s over and this is what’s left.”

“But-” This time it was Rachel that spoke up only to receive Clint’s glower.

“But what? The world will come back to something that looks normal? Fat chance.” Clint directed his attention wholly to his task when he noticed both Sasha and Rachel shrinking back from his glare. “The Avengers are working with the government to re-establish order and rule on the east coast, moving west. They’re filling the government and military ranks.”

“That’s good then?” Rachel offered. Sasha had abandoned the room to prepare for the exams.

“Is it?” Clint scoffed as he took a long stick lighter from Dee’s offered hand. Before long, Sasha would have to light her fires with matches and then, learn to strike a fire with flint. It was one of the many ways people were not prepared to live a life like this. “They are absorbing the self titled rulers, naming them governors and mayors. Do you think King Jacob would have made a good mayor? That’s what he would have become, if they came and he still held the city. Sure, they’d require him to raise the standard of treatment of the people, give them freedom but still.”

“They can’t be. They’re heroes. That’s not-”

“It is. Tony’s got crippling PTSD and has all but given up. Thor’s busy doing whatever to settle his people. Bruce has locked himself in a lab. Nat and Steve are working damn hard to bring the government back damn near on their own but they are only two people. They can’t be everywhere and they can’t fill every spot. The Avengers you hold so dear are down to one super soldier and one very tired assassin.”

“What about you?” Rachel asked. “You’re still alive.”

“Am I?” Clint snapped, regretting it instantly as Dee draped a calming arm across his shoulders.

“You are.” She whispered in his ear and he clung to that.

“I can’t support putting people like that in charge of other people's lives.” Clint said.

Both he and Dee knew there was more to it, though they rarely spoke of it. Clint was bitter. He was angry. He blamed them. They failed to save everyone. He blamed himself, too. He wasn't there to have the chance to help, to fail with them. Now, he wouldn’t- no, he couldn’t help them put people like the self named King Jacob in power.

He understood why they had to do it. He wouldn’t help but he wouldn’t stand in their way. Let the terrible king’s reign for now, someone would likely go through and kill them later. Someone like-

“Come on.” Sasha called out, ushering Rachel and the baby out of the waiting room with a clipboard in her hand and what looked like two charts. It was so normal that Dee couldn’t help but smile at the sight. If playing doctor made Sasha feel better, all the better.

The fire crackled as Clint stacked a few large logs on top of the pile of flaming kindling and thick sticks. He waited for the first to begin catching before adding the next.

“There are others like King Jacob.” Dee said.

Though it was not a question, Clint answered. “Yeah. I won’t let them hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Can you really promise that?” Dee asked. “Our own government, your friends are allowing them to keep power and giving them authority.”

“I won’t let them touch you.” Clint insisted.

“Back in California, there was a man calling himself King-”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, I never had a encounter with him. I’d hear him and his people on the radio, making announcements of their power or whatever. There were stations that resisted, TV and radio. One was taken over while on the air. People died. He isn’t a good man.”

“Bad people are going to rule the world, at least for a while.”

“They did before too, I think. It was just less obvious.”

Clint laughed, though the sound was bitter. “True enough. But there were others who kept them in check.”

“Like we did today?” Dee whispered. Her heart was pounding in her ears. She knew she was dancing around something but she couldn’t pinpoint what. It was something dark that didn’t want to be given voice. Perhaps it was evil. Perhaps it was madness.

“Yeah.” Clint whispered. “Just like today.”

“I’ll see what I can find for dinner.” Dee said.

With that, they turned away from the unnamed madness, leaving it hanging and powerless. If they didn’t look at it too long, maybe they could ignore the siren call. What would happen if they listened? What would happen if they gave it voice? What would happen if they took more power than they had now? What power could they have?

~~~~~<3

“Well, Lizzy seems to have gained a good bit of weight. She’s doing much better than that first day. Got her shots in. I’d like to keep her on the normal schedule for them, if possible.”

Sasha’s voice cut through the room as they entered. The heavy smell of stew greeted them. It smelled heavenly and drew a rumble from her stomach. How Clint and Dee could manage to make something that smelled that divine with the food she had, she couldn’t imagine. Somehow, they did though and she couldn’t wait to dig in.

“Everyone’s okay, then?” Dee called out, straightening her back. She’d been slumped over the stew, mixing the pot to keep it from burning. Clint was next to her, making something akin to flat bread on the stove top.

“For the most part.” Sasha wouldn’t call Rachel healthy but she would admit she could be in worse condition.

“There should be plenty to eat, at least.” Clint said, flipping the bread like disks when the first side was browned. “Grab bowls so we can eat up.”

The meal passed with soft words and long spells of silence. Sasha and Rachel both ate two bowls and many, many disks of bread. Clint wasn’t surprised. Sasha had looked to have been stretching her food. He couldn’t blame her. She had no real reason to trust that he would come back with supplies like he had promised.

While they had been waiting for Sasha and Rachel, Clint had taken his time to poke around her supplies. She had some canned meat and a almost empty freezer. He had every intention of filling her freezer with meat and ice. He’d see to it that they could last a month between supplying trips, if they ever were unable to make the trip.

Setting his empty bowl to the side, Clint stood up. “I’ll go grab supplies as promised before it gets too late.”

“You’re going to come back, right?” Sasha asked as if he had somewhere else to go with all the supplies.

“Yeah.” He directed his attention to Dee. “That stew will taste even better tonight. When the fire burns down, throw it back on the stove to simmer.”

She nodded her agreement, pulling herself to her feet as Clint gathered his keys, boots and coat. As he stood from tying his boots, she wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. His arms crossed over her’s, his hands clasping around her’s.

“Be safe.” She pleaded.

“Always.”

“Come back to me.”

“Always.” He promised again. “I will always come back to you.”

“I love you.” She whispered, as if it was a sacred secret.

Turning, he placed his hand on the side of her face. Fingers slipped into the strands of her hair as he brought his lips to her’s. The kiss was soft, sweet and chaste yet it was somehow everything she needed from him. “I love you, too.”

After letting him go, she watched him slip into his coat. He checked his gun before pushing the furniture from in front of the door. As it closed behind him, she squeezed her eyes together. After taking two slow, deep breaths, she began pushing everything back in place.

She wondered if it would ever be easier to watch him leave.

~~~~~<3

Tag list: @usedtobegoodfriend96 @alcoholic-muffin @theoneanna @alexakeyloveloki, @toozmanykids, @winterisakiller, @j-u-s-t-4. @bambamwolf87, @missaphrodite23, @nonsensicalobsessions, @tinchentitri, @xoxabs88xox @queenoftheunderdark, @carissime72 @myoxisbroken @coyotesongwriting @wegingerangelica @tnystrk-exe @faemapfae, @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123

#clint x oc #clint x ofc #clint barton x ofc #clint barton fanfiction #clint barton x oc

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excindrela · 5 years

Text

12 Days of Demon Ayno- Day 8

Supernatural AU

Pairing: demon! Ayno (Noh YoonHo) VAV / Female reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Occult - non Judeo/Christian celebrations

Word Count: 3380

AU: Welcome to Day 8! (Is it ok that we’re still doing Christmas?) Today is fluffy...but important (that’s all I’m going to say about it for now!). More smut is on the way in Day 9! I love feedback- so if there’s something you like, or something you want to see- tell me!! Thanks to everyone who has stuck with me on this! Special thanks to @quyennie for being my proofreader, and @itsakpopalypse for coming up with the amazing description of Leo!

Demon Ayno: Summoned | Thanksgiving | 12 Days: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9

On the 8th Day of Christmas: You Met Leo

You were stretched out on the bed, laying on your belly, feet lazily kicking in the air, staring into your laptop as you tried to work your way through your overflowing e-mail inbox. Ayno was lying next to you, his head cradled in the small of your back, reading a large hard-backed volume that was old enough to have cloth on the binding and cover. The fabric was now a little threadbare in places allowing the thin wood to show through, and it had that old library book smell that you caught a hint of as he turned the yellowed pages. It was also written in Greek, which was not surprising- the antiquities section of the library was one of his favorite places.

“Do we have plans on Wednesday night?” he inquired absentmindedly.

You thought for a moment. “I don’t think so. The office Christmas Party is on Saturday night…but I don’t think we have anything before then. Why?”

“I was invited to a holiday party. I was hoping you would go with me.”

“Sure.” You said as you unsubscribed from a newsletter for the fifth time.

…and then it hit you. “You were invited to a holiday party?? By who??”

“My friend Leo. He is having a party to celebrate the solstice, and he invited me. I think he is curious to meet you.”

“Leo? You have a friend?”

“I think so.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“He runs a shop in downtown.” Ayno paused hesitantly and sat up, “He knows.”

You stopped cold and stared at him. “He knows what?”

“About me. What I am.”

You started at him in shock. “Ayno…you told someone??” you whispered.

Ayno shook his head vehemently, “No! He just knew. As soon as he saw me, he knew.”

You sat up and took Ayno’s hands. “I think you need to tell me the whole story”, you said softly.

“It was not long after I received my key. I had gone out to explore downtown, and I had decided to turn south to go home, when I suddenly felt compelled to go a different direction. I walked west into the part of downtown that has not been made new yet. I just felt something pull me in that direction. I walked until I came to an area where the shops are all arranged in a square around courtyards, and in one of them was a shop called The Ace of Cups. The Ace of Cups is the card of intuition and spirituality in the tarot deck. When it is upright it means opening up to possibilities and new beginnings, upside down it indicates loss, instability and pain. The picture on the sign was upright, so I went inside. I think you call it a ‘metaphysical’ shop: herbs, crystals, supplies for wiccans and druids- things that pertain to the occult. I understood why I was drawn there- it seemed familiar. As soon as I entered a man emerged from the back and stared at me. His gaze at me was very intense…it scared me...and his eyes were blue…but they were not a normal blue. He spoke to me.

“Marry meet, friend. Can I help you?”

“I was drawn to your shop. I am not from around here.”

The man snorted. “That’s an understatement. We don’t see much of your kind. Do you have business here?”

I knew then that he knew something about me. I tried to proceed cautiously. “I mean no harm. My Patron lives nearby. I am granted freedom to occupy myself when I am not attending her.”

He seemed intrigued. “You have a regular customer?”

Ayno shook his head “I am in service. I have not been released.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Eight risings before All Hallows Eve.”

“That’s a long time for you. Are you trapped?”

“No, no. She is pleased with me and desires me to stay. I have grown fond of her. I do not wish to be released.” Ayno hung his head. “Please. I am not a virulent entity- I will cause no harm. This place feels…comfortable.”

The man stared at him intently, considering his plea. “By what name are you called?”

“I am Ayno.”

“Very well, Ayno. So long as there is no malicious intent, you are welcome here. I am Leo.”

You sat for a moment, absorbing the details of the story. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?”

Ayno looked down and picked at a loose thread on the cover of his book. “I am sorry. I was afraid you would panic and send me away.”

You placed your hand on his cheek. “Ayno- look at me. I have no intention of sending you away. I’m just afraid that someone might try to hurt you or separate us if they found out.”

Ayno crawled forward wanting the reassurance of your arms, sighing as you held him tightly with his head against your chest. “I should have told you. I am sorry. Forgive me for not trusting you.”

You kissed the top of his head and stroked his hair. “It’s ok, I’m not mad. Trust takes time, it has to be built. I understand you aren’t used to trusting people.” You sat there holding him, turning his story over in your mind. “Ayno? One thing I still don’t understand: How did Leo know what you are??”

Ayno gazed up at you, “I do not know. But I do not think Leo is from around here either.”

* * *

You walked twelve blocks through the chilly night air into the area of downtown known as The Mews. The Ace of Cups was located in the third quad you came to. Ayno placed his hand on the small of your back and gently guided you past the ornate iron gates and into the crowd of people in the courtyard. You went to the food table so he could drop off the rosemary and sea salt roasted almonds he’d spent the afternoon making. You stood taking in the sight, eventually realizing someone was staring at you. The man in question was tall and broad shouldered but slender. He had high rounded cheekbones and his eyebrows arched at an angle that make him seem exceptionally intense. His nose was long and angled, and tilted down above his full lips, before the lower part of his face curved into an oval. You nudged Ayno who turned and followed your line of sight. “That is Leo”, he said raising his hand in greeting. Leo raised his hand back, and then disappeared into the crowd.

There were more people than you had thought there would be. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but people were wearing outfits that ranged from Game of Thrones to Wall Street day broker. There was a small bonfire near the front that some of this odd assortment had gathered around keeping warm. Scattered around the courtyard were tables that seemed to have various crafts to do, wares to buy; as well as one for food, another for drinks and a third for sweets. Toward the back, there were paper bag luminarias arranged in a spiral.

You and Ayno took a slow lap around the place looking at all the different things and Ayno said hello to people. His eyes lighted on one of the craft tables and he said, “Oh wreath making! We should make a wreath- we do not have one on our door.”

“Now that you mention it- we don’t, do we? I used to have one with glass balls on it- but it broke.”

You approached the table and looked at what appeared to be a pile of dismembered Christmas tree, baskets containing things like holly and cinnamon sticks, rolls of red, green and white twine, and stacks of what looked like twigs that had been bent and tied into rough circles. “I don’t think I’ve actually ever made a wreath before” you said looking at all the supplies and wondering how exactly to start. “It is not difficult I will show you how”, Ayno said happily. He walked you over to the wreath making table and selected a circle of vines that had been tied together. Then he carefully selected a piece of evergreen and wound it between the vines and used green twine to tie it in place. “See?”, he said, “Easy. We just keep doing this.” Five minutes later it became obvious that you did not have the knack for this. Ayno laughed and told you to choose the evergreen boughs and he would tie them on. In no time at all, you had a beautiful fluffy green wreath that smelled fabulous. Ayno pointed at the baskets on the table, “Oh holly and pinecones! We must have those too. You choose, I will arrange.” You pulled some sprigs out and a couple of pinecones and handed them to him. Ayno talked while he worked, “The wreath is a symbol of the wheel of the year. Holly is masculine. It is used on wreaths because the thorns are thought to keep evil spirits from entering a home”, he said as he arranged them and used more twine to tie them in place. Then he ran a fat red ribbon through the back as a hanger. “What do you think?” he said holding it up for your inspection. “It’s beautiful” you said with a soft gasp, “You know, you’re actually very artistic.” “Thank you!” he smiled, “I am satisfied with it. I think it will look nice on our door.” Ayno carried it over to the fence and hung it around one of the loops in the rod iron, next to the other ones that had been completed as well. “We can hang it here for now and take it with us when we leave tonight.”

You moved on to another table where there was a strange assortment of supplies. “What is all this Ayno?” He smiled, sat down & patted the chair next to him. “We are making things to hang in the trees for the birds. Part of the joy in the solstice is giving back to the earth and providing for rebirth and spring.” A nice woman in a green velvet cloak came over smiling “Merry meet Ayno! This lovely lady must be your girlfriend. Would you like to make birdseed ornaments?” Ayno nodded, “Yes Celestine! How do we make?” She told you to choose shaped cookie cutters as she poured birdseed into bowls. Then she patiently showed you both how to dissolve flour and gelatin into hot water and mix it into the birdseed. Then you pressed the sticky mixture into greased sun and heart shaped cutters you had picked. You stuck a drinking straw into it, and then lifted the cookie cutter off and pulled the straw out. “Excellent work. When they set, we’ll run a ribbon through the straw hole, and hang them in the trees for the birds!” Celestine said as she added them to a cookie sheet with others and bustled them off to fridge to set up.

The next table had large baskets of oranges and bowls of cloves and cinnamon sticks. “Ah! Pomanders! Have you made before?”, Ayno asked. These you knew. “Aren’t these from the Victorian era?” He nodded, “They were very popular then.” You paused for a moment as a realization hit you, “You were there- in the Victorian era- weren’t you?” Ayno gave a small smile and nodded, “Yes. I have been making these for a long time.” You sat watching Ayno braid ribbons and wrap them around the oranges, suddenly awed at how old he really was and how many times and places he had seen and experienced. He handed it to you when he finished and began another for himself. You set the orange down and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly and nuzzling into the crook of his neck. He placed a soft kiss on your temple and whispered “I do not know what has caused this, but I would like it to occur as often as possible.”

It did not take long for you to finish your pomanders- Ayno’s a complicated pattern of swirls ringed with rows of cloves and cinnamon sticks tied at the top, and your simple- if slightly crooked- rows of peeled stripes and clove buds. Ayno hung them on the fence with your wreath and led you over to a tall table that had strips of paper and assorted pens. “Mmmm. This is important. Choose a paper, and on it write down that which you would you want to let go of in your life. Anything you would like to unburden, things you would like to leave behind in the darkness. You can use as many as you need: one, ten, a thousand.” You took a paper and stared at it, with a ball point pen poised above trying to think of all the things in your life that weighed you down. You glanced at Ayno, who seemed very comfortable using a glass fountain pen, dipping it into a vial of ink and writing words gracefully across his paper in a language you didn’t recognize. “Your writing is beautiful. What language is that?” You asked. “Mine.” He said simply.

“For something that is supposed to be evil it’s awfully pretty.”

Ayno’s hand paused, and without looking up he replied, “There are many things in the world that are purely evil but come wrapped in the guise of beauty.”

You weren’t sure if you shivered from the cold or Ayno’s words, but he noticed your blue lips and sent you to wait near the dying fire while he got you something warm to drink.

He’d only been gone a moment when Leo seemed to magically appear at your side. He watched Ayno go and then looked at you quizzically, “Tell me, Ayno’s foolish mortal girlfriend: whatever possessed you to summon a demon and then keep it as a pet??”

“I didn’t summon him”, you stated.

Leo seemed confused. “That’s not possible. Ayno cannot simply appear- he has to be summoned.”

So, you told Leo the story about the Halloween party, and the book, and how Gia had summoned him, and he had come through your mirror.

“Interesting”, he said, “You didn’t actually summon him… yet he remains bound to you…but why did you keep him?”, Leo pressed.

You shrugged, “Well…he’s very good at what he does…and my apartment was kind of messy…my life was kind of messy- I needed some help, and it turned out that I liked coming home to him …he’s easy to talk to and has a good sense of humor and one day I realized I didn’t want him to go…so I just never released him.”

“In other words, you kept him as a sex slave and a maid and then discovered he was actually a sentient being, is what you’re telling me?”

You were embarrassed. It sounded so awful when he said it like that. “Wow that makes it sound really bad. I know- in retrospect my reasons were feeble, and it was not exactly ‘right’ …but it’s not like that anymore. I care about him- so much. If he is unhappy all he needs to do is say it, and I will let him go- I would never want him to stay against his will.”

Leo looked at you -the challenge visible in his eyes. “Yes”, you whispered, “I love him.”

Leo nodded and gazed off into the distance for a moment. “You do know that he can kill you right?”

You were silent for a moment and then nodded, “Yes, I suppose he can, but I don’t really think that’s Ayno’s thing.”

“No”, Leo said “It isn’t. But he is still a demon- keep that in mind. It’s like getting a tiger cub and raising it as a house cat. Just be careful.”

You glanced up to see Ayno making his way back to you across the courtyard. Leo followed your gaze. “Ah- wassail. That will help warm you up, and it is almost time for the Yule log, so the fire will warm you too.”, Leo said as he started to move on and then stopped, and turned and looked at you. “For what it’s worth- he’s in love with you too.”

A few moments later, someone began ringing a bell and calling for everyone to gather around the fire which had diminished itself to embers. Ayno came and stood behind you, pressing his warm body against yours and wrapping his long arms around you. Celestine and Aysheh wove through the crowd carrying baskets of holly and acorns. Ayno instructed you to take one of each. You watched as Leo and 3 other men carried in a large oak log decorated with ribbons, evergreen boughs, holly and mistletoe. A man wearing an outfit that looked like Santa Claus styled by the renaissance faire and a woman who looked like every illustration you had ever seen of a medieval druid came forward and began speaking. They called for all the lights to be extinguished; then they welcomed everyone. They asked all present to take a moment to dwell in the darkness -to know that this was the longest night of the year. They invited you to think about the past year, the old the things that you were ready to shed and leave in the darkness, and to envision the light returning- coming back to you- bringing new things into your life- awakening parts of yourself that had gone dormant and slept. The Santa Man stepped forward and raised his hands, as the Yule log was placed into the glowing embers everyone chanted with him “May the log burn, May the wheel turn, May evil spurn, May the Sun return.” The fire began to grow, and as it did, people stepped forward to toss the holly and the acorn in – some calling out things they were thankful for or hopes for the new season. Next, you tossed in the slips of paper you had written on- symbolically leaving those things in the past. When the crowd had committed their personal pains to the fire and vowed to embrace the possibilities of the coming year, everyone cheered and rang bells before launching into a lusty rendition of Deck the Halls.

Somewhere around the second chorus, Ayno pulled you away and led you to the spiral of luminarias at the back of the courtyard. He walked slowly backwards, holding your hands and pulling you through the softly lit path. “Thank you for coming with me tonight. I have had such a good time. I was so happy to share this with you; I hope you were not bored.”

“No! It was really interesting! …and I’m really glad I came. Now I understand how you feel all the time: having little to no idea what is going on, and just trying not to call attention to yourself and look like you know what you’re doing. Afraid you’ll say the wrong thing and give yourself away. Honestly Ayno – you’re amazing, and I have new respect for how hard you try every single day.”

Having reached the center, Ayno stopped walking. He pulled you in close and brought your face to his. “Worth it”, he said as he kissed you gently and deeply.

“I’m cold”, you said, “Let’s go home and you can warm me up.”

“Look at that”, he smiled as the burgundy flooded his eyes, “Solstice wishes coming true already.”

* * *

Leo stood leaning against the door of the shop, humming to himself as he watched you and Ayno depart the festivities. Your coat pulled tightly around you, your hair lifting slightly in the winter breeze; Ayno towering over you with your tiny hand in his huge one, his wings folded gently against his back, tail swaying as he walked, and his horns spiraling gracefully up into the moonlight.

Celestine paused as she walked past with another tray of completed birdseed ornaments, “Leo- what are you humming? I know that tune, but I can’t place it.” Leo gave a small smile, and sang in his soft angelic voice:

“Just a little change

Small to say the least

Both a little scared

Neither one prepared

Beauty and the Beast…”

#ayno #vav ayno #noh yoonho #vav #VAV fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #ayno fluff #vav fluff #winter solstice #demon

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

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Survey #234

“don’t take care of me - be scared of me.”

Does it bother you when people beg? I mean, it depends on the consistency, intensity, and the subject. Do you ever eat cookie dough raw? I have, but salmonella will punish me some day. Are you one of those people who are always cold? I am the exact opposite. When was the last time you rode a rollercoaster? Pf, never. Don't want to. Do you like hot dogs? I hate the fact that I love them lol. Do you have any weird rings? I wouldn't consider any "weird," no. Have any bad addictions? Ugh, caffeine. Are you anything like your siblings? I am very, very different from my two immediate sisters. Ma says I'm extremely similar to Katie, my half-sister, though it's odd because we don't seem to agree on very much? I don't even think she likes me. When was the last time you shaved your legs? Literally not since like... February. It's not like anybody but family sees my legs anyway. It's just stupid societal expectations for a woman, and I've never been prone to obeying those to begin with. Do you like long bike rides? I used to LOVE riding my bike when I lived in the woods/by an almost-dead road, but I haven't that in... god, years. I don't even have that bike anymore. My knees would never, EVER survive riding one right now. Do you know someone who is blind? My sister is in one eye, but I can't remember which. Do you have a YouTube account? how else would I like every Mark video in existence and I wish I was kidding?????????????? How many cell phones have you had? No clue. Not many. Maybe like, four or so. When was the last time something bothered you? Yesterday 'cuz I was getting weird fuckin phone calls. Do you ever try free samples at the store? Sure, if they seem like something I'd like. Can you speak French or Spanish? No. What school year do you think will be/was the saddest? 8th. Anxiety and depression were getting bad, puberty was A Thing, confused about life in general and why all this sadness and fear was happening to me. Do you like boys with long hair? I mean this depends on the person, but in general, yes. I think I prefer it over shorter, in most cases. Have you ever had plum juice? No, but that sounds decent. If I can even remember what a plum tastes like... I loved them as a kid, haven't had one in like, years. Have you ever passed out? Once, almost twice not long after the first time. Was today someones birthday that you know? No. Have you drank any water today? A little bit. When was the last time you had a crowd at your house? Holy shit. Probably not since we MOVED here in '17. Are you worried about anything right now? When aren't I at least a bit worried about something, really. Are you keeping anything from your best friends right now? No. Do you currently have any mosquito bites? Not currently. A- blood, hell yeah man. Do you have Twitter? Yes. Literally to like. um. one somebody's stuff. If you found out you were pregnant, who would you tell? God FUCKING forbid. Obviously my family. Sara. If it was from consensual sex, I'd tell friends eventually. If it was, uh, any other way, probably not EVEN some family because there are some that would probably never speak to me again if I got an abortion. Is your driveway stone or pavement? Stone. Have you ever caught something on fire? Yeah. Y'know, s'mores, sparklers, wood when making a bonfire or something. Regular stuff. How many people have you kissed in a car? One or two. Idr if Sara and I ever have. Do you and your best friend have an inside joke? "buzzfeed" Do you have a gym membership? Not anymore. How long was your last shower? Not even ten minutes. Get clean and get out. What is your favorite color fingernail polish? I think red tends to be the prettiest. If you had to get a tattoo, what would it be of? Man, don't ask me this. I have a billion ideas. If I had the money for it though, I'd probably finally get this (Denialism) as a tat on my left upper arm next. It's like, my favorite drawing ever, and I've already gotten the artist's permission. What is the best fast food place, in your opinion? Sonic has had my heart lately. What is your favorite eye color in the opposite sex? I just generally like vibrant and/or light blue eyes, but I really don't care about someone's eye color. What is your mom’s maiden name? Yeah, let's share that on the Internet. Would you rather receive balloons or flowers for valentine’s day? Flowers. Balloons are nothing but waste and wind up as litter anyway. Do you follow the crowd when it comes to trends or do your own thing? Do my own thing. Trends 'n shit don't matter to me; I don't care how "cool" or "uncool" something is. I like what I like. What is your worst bad habit? Assuming the worst of absolutely everything within .01 seconds. Do you believe in happily ever after? No. Things aren't always gonna be happy, sorry. What is your average phone bill? I don't know, Dad pays it. Which is better: chapstick or lip gloss? Chapstick. Have you ever been proposed to? No. Do you take certain medicine on a daily basis? A decent number. Have you ever seen two people together and you got sick to your stomach? I remember seeing a picture of Jason and his girlfriend after me once after they got together and I. Don't know how to describe that feeling. I think I felt more murderous than anything. Do you prefer laptops or desktop computers? Laptops for portability's sake. Have you ever had a really bad haircut? Looking back, the haircut I had before this one wasn't great. Only at some angles did it look good. I mean I don't regret it though, it's how I realized I think I'd like short hair. Did you ever order any clothes from the Alloy catalog? Never heard of them. What brand, color, and type is your favorite eyeliner? I love black eyeliner, but I don't have any favorite brands. I hate liquid, though. My hands aren't steady enough for that, and it's just messy. What’s your favorite type of yogurt? Meh, not a big fan. Idk. Do you have any overdue library books right now? No. Do you have a piggy bank? No. Do you remember your locker combinations from high school? Nope. Do you own plaid pants? No. Have you ever had to wear a school uniform? Yeah, through all of middle school. What was your high school’s mascot? A firebird. Who were your best friends in high school? I had various ones. Excluding The Ex, there was Hannia, Alon, Megan, Maria, Girt... There was a few. Have you ever been to Chicago? Once, with Sara and her dad. At night. And the lights and cars and shops and towers and everything was too much for my rural ass. I'm not a city person, but because it was SO different and just incredible in scope and all, I still thought it was absolutely beautiful and so exciting. Would you rather sleep on the top bunk or bottom bunk? Bottom. When my sister and I were little and shared a room though, I almost always had the top bunk. As I got older though, that inverted. Have you ever had a secret admirer that left you notes? I THINK Aaron did once, but I can't remember for sure. Are you close with your cousins? No. Are you close to any aunts or uncles? Not especially, but only because, like my cousins, I pretty much never see them. Are you close to your grandparents? All but one is dead, and that one is dying. Barely knew any, save for my remaining grandmother, and we've never gotten along well/agreed on much, but I mean, I still care for her. I also pretty much never saw her. Who betrayed your trust? Plenty of people. Who was your first best friend (apart from a sibling)? Brianna. What was your favorite thing to do at sleepovers when you were younger? I don't know. Probably play make-believe or go swimming. What kind of popcorn is your favorite? Normal with butter and salt. Does your town have a big fountain in it? The next town over does. What is your town known for? "You mean Tennessee?" Don't think that's too much of a giveaway. What’s one way in which you’re still a child? I am very dependent on Mom. What’s one way in which you’re old? My knees are at least 107. Do you know what you want to do for your next birthday? gooooooood take me to get a tatTOOOOOOO What would be the best surprise you could receive right now? Mom buying tickets to the Ozzy concert next year alksdjfalwe. I've been losing my fucking mind since the new single came out and album was announced. Do you usually forgive when someone hurts your or try to get revenge? I'm not a vengeful person at all, really. I tend to forgive. Were there any subjects in school that were really easy for you? English has always been a breeze, and usually science. Did you ever skip a grade or get held back a grade? No. Do you think you look better with dyed hair or natural hair? Just about anyone looks better with dyed hair to me. I just like colorful, interesting hair. Has your hair color changed since you were a toddler? Yes. I was born dirty blonde. Do you own an American flag shirt? No. Do you own a British flag shirt? No. Do you have a seashell collection? No. We used to have a box of them, though. Do you have a rock collection? No. What is your favorite thing to do in the pool? Just chill. Casually swim around aimlessly. Cacti or seashells? Hmmmm. I think seashells, but that's tough. Dreamcatcher or wind chimes? MAN, this depends on the design. Have you ever taken a picture at the perfect moment? The only one I have that I consider the absolute *perfect* moment was at Ashley's gender reveal when she and her husband found out the baby is a girl. Her face especially is priceless. What color was your first car? N/A Was your first car used or new? N/A What was the last thing you said in complete caps? HAHAHA I sent Sara a fucking CURSED picture of Pennywise as a good morning text. Do you enjoy playing board games? Not really. Are you good at playing Hide and Go Seek? I guess I was as a kid. I'm sure I wouldn't be now. Elephants can't really hide. :^) Do you live in an apartment or a house? A house. Is there a music artist that never ceases to amaze you? As far as truly *amaze* goes, probably Amy Lee. Her voice is just fucking incredible. What is your favorite term of endearment? Probably "love." Or "dear." I dunno. Do you like Twizzlers? NO. They're gross as hell. Do you sneak in candy/soda when you go to the movies? Yeup. Fuck those prices. What was the last song you had on repeat? I adore Ozzy's new "Under The Graveyard" beyond words and so have been binging it like mad since yesterday lmao. Where are your favorite pair of jeans from? I don't have jeans. Do you tap your foot when you listen to music? No. If I respond to it in any voluntary way, I'll most likely be tapping my hand with the beat. Will you get your hair cut anytime soon? I need to, yeah. I hate when my hair starts getting long enough to curl a tad upwards in the back. Are you uncoordinated? VERY. Have you ever listened to Jane’s Addiction? I know and enjoy "Jane Says" and "Been Caught Stealing." What’s the worst thing you’ve ever experienced? Heartbreak. What’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? I dunno, there's a lot. Do you write “Dear Diary” when you write in your diary? I don't have a diary. I don't think I ever did. What is your escape from your problems? Music, playing WoW, stuff like that. Just give me a distraction. Do you watch YouTube videos a lot? Literally every day throughout the day. It's at least background noise. Do you have an embarrassing period story? No, thankfully. Would your life be at risk if someone knew everything about you? No. Is your life at risk? I mean, more than like by disease, some psycho, an accident, shit like that, no? Do you feel safe in your hometown? No. Never did. I miss our house and the childhood memories, but that place was dangerous. Where do you dream of moving to? The mountains of NC. What fascinates you more: outer space or the bottom of the ocean? Space. Have you ever seen a UFO? I guess by the definition of "unidentified flying object," yes, but I think it was some sort of natural phenomenon with a star, not an alien. Maybe. Does anyone encourage you to go after your dreams? Yeah. :') What is the stupidest thing anyone’s ever said to you? "i'Ll AlWaYs LoVe YoU, bRiTtAnY!" What’s the most amount of weight you’ve gained from a medication? LET'S. FUCKING. NOT. Do you name inanimate objects? No. What do you think the constellations mean? "Nothing? Just humanity reaching to ascribe some type of meaningfulness to the world around them." <<<< This, I like this. Did you like the venue your senior prom was held at? I mean it was at the local college's gym. Nothing special. Which spelling do you like best: Hayley, Hailey, or Haley? Hm, I think "Hailey." Which name is better: Hailey, Bailey, Kailey, or Shailey? Ummmmm I think "Kailey." Are you mad at someone? I'm always going to be mad to a degree. Do you feel like your life was stolen from you? I guess in a way by mental illness? Do you have a professional camera? Yeah. What would you change about your hair? Ugh, I want to COLOR it. I really want silver hair atm. When was the last time you changed your hairstyle? Last year. Do you like rose gold? I love it. What’s your favorite color gummy bear? I don't... care? Oh wait, maybe green. Those normally have an apple kinda feel, right? Or do they all thaste the same? What is the sexiest part of the opposite sex’s body? I like s h o u l d e r b l a d e s. Have you ever made up/sang a song for someone you cared about? Only ever poems. Ever had a song sang about/for you? I mean, I've had like songs /dedicated/ to me, but never actually made for me specifically. What is your middle name? Marie. Like every other white girl known to man. What do you smell like? My house, I guess? Ever hurt yourself playing Wii? I don't believe so. Do you have freckles? Not on my face, but random ones on the rest of my body, yeah. Can you do the alphabet in sign language? No. Do you like your feet? I seriously hate feet. That includes mine. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had in your mouth? uhhhhhhhhh Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? No. (If you’re a girl) Has anyone ever called you "shorty" instead of "girl"? Ugh no, thank Christ. Have you ever sent an embarrassing moment of yours into a mag to be printed? No. What IS your most embarrassing moment? I've told it before but now I don't remember it??? What’s the last thing to make you scream? Like a small, quick one, I think a loud noise scared me. I've been extremely sensitive to those lately and idk why??? Do your parents knock before coming in, or just barge on in? My door's never really closed, but when it is, Mom doesn't. Dad does. Do you think you’re more cute or sexy? BOY neither. Do you own any mini skirts? Bitch I wish I could wear mini skirts but I would blind people with my body rn. Do you draw little hearts and stuff with eyeliner next to your eyes? Nah. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve ever lost? Good question, idk. Has your mom ever lied to you? Yeah. Do you have a deep voice? It's definitely deep for a girl, but it's not like, manly. When’s the last time someone made breakfast for you? I guess the last time I was out for breakfast? Idr. When someone knocks on the door, who do you think it is? A mailman/woman. No one else comes here unexpectedly. Has anyone ever licked your foot? UM NO Do you play games with boys/girls, like "hard to get"? I never did and never will. I'm definitely not easy, but I don't play games. Oh wait, unless we're already a serious couple and I'm sexually being a tease. Hobby. When’s the last time someone told you they were in love with you? Some time back. Is there a Sonic where you live? mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM- Do you smile with your teeth? Usually. What do you like on your pizza? Pepperoni, jalapenos, sausage... stuff like that. I'm WEAK for meat lovers pizza sobs heavily in wanna-be vegetarian Do you know anyone who lives in Newfoundland? No. How ‘bout Alberta? No. Anyone in Canada at all? Yeah, a friend's ex. She's cool. If you could trade houses with a friend, who would it be? I wouldn't damn anyone with this house, lol. I mean it's not bad, it just has its issues. Are you a good person to come to for advice? It depends on the subject we're talkin' here. Do you sleep naked? No. I'd feel so vulnerable. Favorite place you've been: Through the NC mountains. Which of your Facebook friends lives closest to you? UHHHHHHHHH how do I not know this?? When was the last time you cried? Idr, actually. Who took your profile pic? Where? What’s your favorite season? Autumn. What was the last book you read? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. Fucking read it. Are you a good influence? This also depends on the area of focus. Does pineapple belong on pizza? NO. Sweet and savory do noooot mix in my world.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

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essaysbyciara · 5 years

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Thy Neighbor II: Lovin’ The Crew [Chapters 14 + 15]

[Prologue] [Chapters 1 + 2] [Chapters 3 + 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapters 7 + 8] [Chapters 9 + 10] [Chapters 11 + 12] [Chapter 13]

Peace, family!

Heads up: these chapters are somewhat long. Winston finally gets some attention! As always, thank you for the reads, likes, comments, messages and positive energy. Definitely wrapping this thing on up soon and that damn Yahya story too lol.

Peace and love!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hey, Ciara. It’s Winston…

She knows who you are already…

Hey, Ciara! Thinking about our car ride the other night, just wanted to …

Sounds like you’re asking her out again…

Hey, Ci!

Ci?!

Hey! Made a playlist of those songs we talked about the other night. Wanted to share. Praying for you during this midterm season.

Of course I’ll say I’m praying for her. That’s safe.

All Winston knows since his divorce is playing it safe.

Married at 24, he didn’t know much of anything else. Freshly married, Winston was on his way to finishing his Masters and thinking about his Doctorate. His wife was on her way to medical school with the goal of becoming a research pathologist. In fact, they pathed their entire lives. Degrees by 27. One child by 30, another by 32 and a move to the West Coast. They both wanted the sun that avoided them since birth.

But in the midst of following the game plan, they forgot about their true dreams. Medical school was the dream of her parents; she wanted to study music and dramatic arts, having done a play or two in college. He wanted to travel around the world as a missionary. They both felt tied down by the dreams of other people. They wanted off the path they created for themselves.

So they went rogue. She quit medical school and enrolled at Tisch School of the Arts. He started applying to missions and was accepted to travel to East Africa, to learn from the Ethopian Orthodox community. They were happy, their dreams were no longer deferred but as Winston planned his trip, he wanted his wife to join alongside him. Why do this alone? But that would stop her dream and with both of them unable to compromise, Winston left her to go fulfill what he felt was the mission of his life.

Skype and texts could only do so much. She fell in love with a fellow student. He started an emotional affair with another missionary. Winston was warned of such a thing before he left, thinking he’d never fall for that type. When he found himself upset that his missionary “friend” didn’t text him “good morning”, he knew himself to be caught up.

But when Winston returned home, he killed his affair. She hadn’t. He saw the Facebook messages, found some of her distraction’s clothes inside of their house. A condom in the trash can. He was done.

He blamed himself for pushing an agenda to be free, to break from the plan they had for themselves. He quit missionary work and enrolled back into NYU to finish his Masters. She, however, continued in the arts program and right next to her lover. She wouldn’t concede. Her dream was worth it. So Winston thought the marriage wasn’t worth it and he filed for divorce.

Since then, he’s dated but failed, always attracted to women who would fit inside of this perfect picture of his life. Medical students, PhD students; he tried to find someone that could replace his ex-wife. But then he had fears of his future wife living out her dreams only to find something -- and someone --- better. He felt disposable, like once she would find something new and better, she’d leave.

Ciara fits the narrative with her dreams of a Doctorate and her determination to change the world. However there is something about her dreams of finding the freedom in her faith, for pushing individuality, for being her despite the culture’s insistence that her freebird self was the problem that attracted him to her even more. She thinks about shaking the tables. She isn’t about straight and narrow, she is about doing what her heart feels is right. And she found peace in her heart within her studies, something Winston wish he felt.

And her hips swayed like the ocean when she walked, which Winston felt crash into his body every time he caught a glimpse of her walking throughout campus. Ciara stoked this lustful fire inside of Winston that he hadn’t felt in years. At first he believed all of his feelings to be wrong, writing Matthew 15:19 inside of his journal when some nights were rougher than others.

Winston saved all of his cursing for when Ciara left his car, letting out moan-laced expletives as he watched her walk up the steps into her apartment building. He wanted her in all the right and wrong ways, readjusting himself in the driver’s seat to allow some room for the growth he couldn’t control.

But after a cold shower and his bedtime devotional, his nerves -- and body parts -- calmed down. He gave himself some grace and prayed that night to not let those emotions motivate his actions. He’s seen many of his friends use the opportunity for sex as a reason to act like “good guys.”

Y’lan’s story was warning enough.

But to Winston, she’s unattainable. When he heard Y’lan say that he dated Ciara, he figured himself to be out of the game. Guys like Y’lan are cool and of the culture. They don’t look like church boys. They have one foot in the church and one in the streets. Winston was, in all ways, a nerd. A Bible-reading, Jesus-loving nerd. Ciara doesn’t go for those, he thought.

Sitting in U City Coffee, awaiting Y’lan’s arrival, Ciara doesn’t know what to think anymore. Her ice coffee dilutes as she ignores her caffeinated pick me up by scrolling through Trevante’s instagram to see if she can find “Meganne The Intern”. Ever since that night, Ciara can’t help but think that Trevante is continuing to sex another woman into a mess just like her.

Puzzle pieces start to come together in her mind: no wonder Tre held out for so long, becoming super affectionate and protective once they started having sex. She always knew deep-down that Trevante wouldn’t be able to handle her celibacy. Naivete increases thinking that a man who couldn’t keep his apartment empty if his life depended on it would be able to do such a thing for little ol’ her.

“Hey, Ciara. Sorry I’m late.” Ciara breaks her search to look up at Y’lan almost out of breath in her sight.

“Hey! It’s okay. You breathing hard like you ran here.”

“Yeah, my bad. Just played a quick pick up game with some kids. They damn near ran me off the court. I lost track of time.” Y’lan’s body ripples under his grey Nike sweatsuit. He’s not dressed for a meeting and Ciara’s growing sexual angst does not care one bit.

As Ciara walks up to the counter to buy a bottle of water for Y’lan, Y’lan works through his plot to confront Ciara about Trevante. Y’lan’s anger seethed from his pores listening to Trevante talk about Ciara as his future, as a woman that he’d want to settle down with. There is nothing settling about Trevante, Y’lan realizes. Having seen Tre at his worst at bars and hangouts, he knows him to be far from ready. Ciara would be up against the worst of them with Trevante. Y’lan doesn’t want her to get hurt. Again.

Ciara comes back with her aqueous libation for Y’lan. Sitting down in front of her laptop, she looks down to see a message from Winston. Her curiosity overflows until Y’lan breaks her concentration with a question.

“Before we get to this, can I ask you a question?”

Ciara knows exactly what’s about to happen.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

She knew this day was coming. Ciara stops mid-sip, her chest growing hotter by the millisecond. Dreading what’s about to happen, she feels the mercy in Y’lan asking about it first.

“What’s up, Y’lan?”

“So what’s up with you and Trevante?”

Ciara becomes unnerved at the lightweight aggressive way Y’lan asks his question. Y’lan didn’t enter the conversation gracefully and Ciara can tell that he has no plans on letting up. She adjusts her body in her chair, tilting her head to the left as her eyes squint toward Y’lan, trying to make sense of his tone.

“We’ve been kicking it for a minute. What’s good?” Ciara matches his energy and Y’lan feels the shift.

“Hey, I’m not trying to hem you up. I’m sorry if I came off that way. I just went to go see him a few days ago and he told me about y’all, that’s all.”

Ciara wonders if Y’lan told Trevante about their past. She suddenly feels every pipe within her burst. “Word? Cool.”

Ciara’s pretend nonchalance bothers Y’lan. Maybe she doesn’t care that Y’lan cares. Maybe Trevante found out in between then and now so her inaction to gain a reaction is valid. He decides to go for round two. He needs to know for sure.

“Does he know about us?”

“No disrespect, Y’lan, but you should be the last person to be checking me about what I do.”

Y’lan nods his head to fight the anger growing inside of him. “I’m not trying to be disrespectful, Ci. I promise you. I just … you do know that’s my friend, right? When we linked up to talk about it, it didn’t seem like he knew. And I didn’t want to be the one to tell him because, real talk, that ain’t my job.”

“I agree with you.” Maybe Ciara is done putting up a fight, he thinks. “I’ll tell him.”

“Bet, cool. Like I said, I ain’t mean to make it this big. I just...”

“Does it bother you, Y’lan?”

Y’lan’s mind claims that he’s protecting Ciara from inevitable heartbreak. Y’lan heart knows that he wishes he and Ciara could try once more to get it right. As the battle rages on between his heart and mind, Ciara’s pettiness rages inside of her body. Whatever emotions she possesses about her past with Y’lan are ready to be unleashed. She’s waiting for Y’lan to say just the right words.

“That y’all are together? Nah, not really.”

“You sure? Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying to you, Ci.”

“I mean, you did lie to my fucking face for a smooth year so I don’t know…”

Y’lan walked himself right into that response. He braces for the rest of what Ciara has coming his way.

“Yo, Ci. Don’t do that. I told you…”

“Told me what? You didn’t tell me anything. I found out after the fact that you didn’t want me. You showed me, you couldn’t tell me.”

“How can you say that I didn’t want you?”

“You left!” Ciara’s tears puddle inside of her eyes as she tries to hold back the scream that undercurrents her words. She exhales, closing her laptop with swift aggression. Y’lan’s body sinks into his chair, his mind taking a few more seconds to ponder what to say next.

“I know I can never really earn your trust after that, I know. I’m sorry. You met the worse iteration of me. I’m now a better person.”

“You know, I hate that shit. Why did I have to be a casualty of your growth as a person? I didn’t sign up to be a “lesson learned”, Y’lan. I wanted to be yours.”

“Do you still want to be?”

Ciara and Y’lan both pause at the question that escapes Y’lan’s lips before it could be stopped.

“Y’lan, I can’t… I’m not doing this with you.” Ciara shoves her laptop into her bag. Shuffling to find her keys, she looks down at her phone to see a text from Trevante.

Can I see you tonight before you leave for your trip?

Y’lan has his answer.

Taglist: @doublesidedscoobysnacks @diva-princess-on-fleek @voyagetoadinas9 @walkrightuptothesun @wvsspoppin @dreamlovealways @rockwit609 @thegayaxeman @joyfulwombatdreamermaker @blackpinup22 @hookedtoherfire @kris-did-it @l-auteuse @styleismyaddiction

#trevante rhodes x fanfiction #trevante rhodes #y'lan noel #winston duke #thy neighbor #fanfic

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kimjongdahhwae · 6 years

Text

Crush Culture

Pairing: Jaemin x Reader Genre: Fluff, High School!AU

a/n: When you listen to a particular song and a scenario just popped out of your mind HAHAHAHA. In this case, the song is Crush Culture by Conan Gray. Listen to his EP entitled “Sunset Season” , 11/10 would recommend!!!

This is not proofread so I’m sorry for the mistakes. HSKHSKHSK

Anyway, enjoy reading. ________________________________________________________________

"Jesus Christ Yeri, stop looking at your phone and finish this project!" you retorted at your groupmate who is also your best friend.

"I literally stopped for like 2 seconds to check the time y/n, don't overreact!" she said and continued to type your paper in History.

"And you're literally using your laptop, why can't you just look at the time on your laptop, it's right there!" you grinned

"Shut up!"

"Obviously you're waiting for him to text you, well he won't," you said and continued to read other references on your laptop.

"This is why nobody likes you."

"Sometimes I ask myself why did we become best friends? Oh yeah right, because you love me," you said and made Yeri rolled her eyes and laughed.

High school is one of the shittiest moments in your life, with all the boys and girls trying to get noticed by their crushes or worse, being in a relationship. In high school, it seems like "who are you with" is more important above everything.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. I was up all night finding some more references," your other groupmate said while placing his bag on the table.

"Jaemin, we know you stayed up all night because you're playing video games with Jeno," you said, still focused on your laptop.

"I didn't say that," Jaemin said, opening his laptop while rubbing his eyes.

"You don't have to, because it's pretty obvious," you pointed at his laptop screen and his eyes widened when he saw the icon of the video game, still opened.

"See, this is why no one has a crush on you," Yeri said sarcastically.

"I'm too smart for them anyways," you joked.

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

It's a lunch break and you're currently eating in the cafeteria with Yeri.

"Why do they show their clinginess and affection here, IT'S A FREAKING SCHOOL!" you remarked, annoyed at the couple sitting on the table across you.

"Why are you so mad about couples doing their stuff, being sweet to each other or whatever. That's how they show their love for each other," Yeri replied and took a bite of her sandwich.

"I don't hate them, I despise them."

Minutes later, Jaemin arrived and took a seat in front of you while placing his backpack on the table.

"Did you print our paper?" you asked, he just nodded and yawned.

"You played video games all night again, why am I not surprised," Jaemin didn't answer and placed his face flat on his backpack.

You were surprised when Yeri slammed her left palm on the table while holding her phone on her other hand.

"Got to go guys! I just need to meet someone!" Yeri excitedly said and exited the cafeteria.

"Geez, what's up with people and their so-called crushes," you rolled your eyes and finished your lunch.

"What's up with you and your irritation towards crushes," Jaemin said, face still on his bag.

"They make me want to spill my guts out. People pursue their crushes but in the end, it will not work out."

Jaemin lifted his face and looked at you.

"What if you met someone and I don't know, you fell for that person?"

"I doubt it," you laughed.

Jaemin stared at your eyes.

"Just, what if?" he asked, and he seems serious.

"I don't know really, whatever happens, happens I guess?" you shrugged because the thought of you having a crush? Not gonna happen.

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

"Jaemin, where are we going again?" you lazily asked and letting yourself get dragged by Jaemin.

"There's this new arcade that opened yesterday, Jeno told me about it," Jaemin stopped at his tracks.

"And why are you dragging me there instead of Jeno?" you crossed your arms. You just want to go home and sleep, or watch Netflix.

"We already went there yesterday! So I thought, why not I asked you to go with me?"

"Okay first, you didn't 'asked' me, you just told me to come with you somewhere."

"But--" Jaemin was cut-off by you, shushing him.

"Second, I'm tired. PE drained me physically and mentally. Third, I left my wallet at home. I don't have any extra money."

"Fear not! I'll treat you so let's go!"

Seems like this boy will never give up, you let yourself get dragged by Jaemin once again.

When you both arrived at the arcade, it was packed with high school students around your age and some kids with their brothers or sisters.

You and Jaemin bought tokens, courtesy of him of course because you forgot your wallet. He dragged you to the basketball game first.

"Let's battle!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah why n--"

"--you're ready to lose?" you said while grinning.

"Oh, it's on!"

"The loser will buy pizza!"

You and Jaemin went to every multiplayer game and tallied your scores who won on that particular game.

"Guess I'm buying you pizza before going home?" Jaemin asked when the two of you went out of the arcade.

"Of course, told you-you're gonna lose," you smirked.

"Well, lead the way miss y/n," he said and made a gesture with his hand.

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

You and Jaemin became close months after.

When you want to do something, go out or go to the library to study and Yeri is not available or busy, you text Jaemin. You two are always hanging out with each other's houses.

You're now waiting for Jaemin outside of the movie theater. It’ s Saturday so he asked you to hangout with him.

You [4:00 PM]: Wer r u? >:( Jaemin [1:03 PM]: omw, sorry :<

You sighed because you knew this would happen. Jaemin always wakes up late because of video games.

You smiled because you realized how you have gotten closer with Jaemin. Before, you two are just acquaintances. Now, he's like your second best friend. You thought of his mannerisms, his smile that makes your day, his deep laugh, his eyes that stared at your own pair whenever you two make a bet or debate about something.

Your phone buzzed again. You opened it expecting it was Jaemin, no it's Yeri. You're going to read Yeri's message, but Jaemin is calling you.

"Where are you?"

"I'm sorry! I'm walk--no running to get there on time, I'm buying fries to make it up to you."

"You better!"

You suddenly had the urge to pee, so you went to the restroom. When you got out, you heard someone---a boy said Yeri's name.

"She's not even that pretty, She's the one who's pursuing me HAHAHAHA!"

"Dude, that girl is head over heels for you."

"Yes, she even tried to kiss me, who am I to refuse?"

"Then you dumped her the next day because you said she's boring. You're kinda cruel, man."

The group of boys continued laughing, you couldn't resist yourself and punched the guy in the face.

"You boys are disgusting!"

"Who the hell are you?" he asked while holding his jaw.

"Dude, I think she's a friend of Yeri's," his friend whispered.

"Oh, that boring girl who likes me?" you punched him again at his comment.

"Just because you're a girl doesn't mean I'm not going to hurt you," he smirked and raised his arm but someone punched him first, and it's not you or his friends, it was Jaemin.

"Sorry I'm late, let's ditch this movie," he smiled and dragged you out of the scene.

You went to the playground with Jaemin, you're both currently sitting on the swing set. It's already 5:30 PM and neither of you are speaking about what happened earlier. Jaemin doesn't like this, he doesn't like it when you're quiet and thinking about things that are making you sad.

"Hey, do you want to get some ice cream?" he tried to broke the silence.

"Can I say something....for like a second? Do you know the real reason why I don't want to have feelings with anybody?" you blurted out, having the urge to vent out suddenly.

"Yes, you said they make you want to spill your guts out."

"That's not just it, I hate the feeling of getting hurt. They will feed you beautiful lies, kiss you and then they will forget you because they found someone new," you said, and then looked down.

"I really want to experience these things but, I can't bear the thought of someone leaving me for another. I don't want to experience this pain again. Just like what my father did," you said and looked at Jaemin, who is already looking at you.

You remembered the day your father left you and your mom for another family. You're 10 years old and just got home from school when you heard your mom and dad fighting in the kitchen, you faced them. When they saw you, they stopped but told you to go to your room.

Later that night, you were woken up by the banging of the door. You went outside to your room and saw your mother standing while crying in the living room, you saw your father already on the front door leaving. You called him and turned to you.

"Don't leave us, please. You and mom can fix this," you cried while hugging him.

"I'm sorry y/n, we can't," he broke the hug to take a look at you.

"Remember this, I love you both okay? I love you and your mom."

"If you love us then, why are you leaving?"

"I don't want to hurt your mother anymore. Give her the love I didn't give, take care of her," you father whispered while rubbing your tears away.

Then he stood up, went out and closed the door.

You told Jaemin about what happened, and how a year later you found your dad in a mall with another woman, holding a child.

"This is why I don't want to catch feelings for a person because, in the end, they'll fall out and will not catch you."

"Hey, not all men are the same," Jaemin said looking into your eyes, you didn't respond and just looked at your feet again.

"I will never do that to you. I will never hurt you," Jaemin whispered.

"What did you say?" you looked at Jaemin, shocked because of what he said.

You clearly heard him. You just don't know what or how to respond.

"Nothing," he shrugged. Once again, silence consumed the both of you.

Until both of you spoked at the same time but being the gentleman he was, he let you speak first.

"I want to go home, I'm worried about Yeri."

"I'll walk you home," Jaemin stood up and held out his hand for you. You took it even though you still feel the awkwardness earlier.

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

It's Sunday night, you and Yeri are having a sleepover.

"Are you sure your fine?" you asked her.

"For the nth time, I'm fine, he's not worth my tears anyway," he said and popped a chip in her mouth.

You're watching some horror film in your living room. You thought this sleepover because of Yeri, because of what that guy did to her but instead, you're the one who needs some advice.

"What's the deal between you and Jaemin?" she blurted out, making you jump because of his name.

"Uhh, we're fine? I guess?" you said and scrolled tweets on your phone.

"Y/n you're not telling me something. What did I miss between the two of you?"

"Nothing! We're just friends!" you said defensively.

"I know your lying," she smirked.

You gave up and told her the events that happened yesterday.

"Well, do you like him?" she raised her eyebrow.

"No? As I said, we're just friends."

"Well, in that case, you don't mind if he will have a crush on other people at school? or if I will have a crush on him?"

"N-no!"

"Think of a thing you've always wanted to do."

"Then?" this time, you're the one who raised an eyebrow.

"Then think of a person who you wanted to accompany you in doing that thing," Yeri said and smirked at your reaction.

"You smiled, I know you thought of Jaemin first before me," she pointed at your face.

"No I DID NOT!" yes, yes you did.

"I'm going to sleep. Sort out your feelings. I know you're still scared of experiencing these things and thinking that men are the same but Jaemin is different and I can feel it. He likes you so much and It's very obvious. You're the only one who can't see it," Yeri patted your head and went to your room.

You contemplated what Yeri said.

Yes, you thought of Jaemin first because he's the easy going type of person, unlike Yeri. You always want to hang out with him because his sense of humor is different. He's always making you laugh and sometimes it's the other way around. Seeing Jaemin's smile or laugh, and knowing it's because of you makes your heart flutter. He doesn't judge you at whatever you do and listens to your rants about life 24/7. He always walks you home even though his street is on the other side. He takes care of you.

Oh mY gOd DO I REALLY LIKE HI--

Your phone buzzed, it's a text from Jaemin saying he's outside your house.

You still don't want to see or talk to him because you're scared to face him. But it seems like your feet has a mind of its own and immediately walked towards the front door. You opened it and saw Jaemin, wearing a white hoodie, sweatpants, and his favorite sneakers.

"What are you doing here this late?"

"I can't sleep."

"And?"

"I've been thinking about what happened yesterday."

"Oh, Yeri's fine. She's sleeping in my ro--"

"No, the one when we're on the playground. About what I said. I really REALLY like you y/n. You're smart, and beautif--"

"I am smart but I AM NOT BEAUTIFUL" you really can't take compliments.

"Please let me finish first," Jaemin sighs.

"Riiiight, sorry."

"I know you're scared of these crushes and catching feelings stuff but I can't control mine. I really like you and I tried to change your point of view about it so I am trying to pursue you that is why I asked you what if there's a person and you fall for that person, and I tried to be that person so I'm always asking you to hang out with me or spend time with me but you still won't budge. I know you don't like me and you will never like me bu--" Jaemin is now fumbling with his words so you cut him.

"I hate to say this but,,,, I like you too? I guess?" there you finally said it.

"What?" Jaemin's eyes widened, slowly he's smiling.

"Uhhhh, what do people call it? Uhm,,, I have a crush on you gOSH this is so embarrassing!" you said and covered your face with your hands. Jaemin removed your hands and squished your cheeks.

"You're cute when you get embarrassed," Jaemin laughed you punched him playfully.

"Shut up! I hate you!"

"No, you said it yourself, you like me," Jaemin smiled widely. That soft smile that made you fell for him.

________________________________________________________________

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aka-willow · 5 years

Text

Dreams and Schemes

gif

Words: 1264

Characters: Willow Wren, Marty Fields, Ned Leeds, Kate Gray, Kilgrave

Prompt/Tag: “I’m going to ask you something and you have to answer me honestly.” x / @anti-solidcoffee

Summary: Willow goes out for the night and encounters a sinister figure

Song: Hot in the City – Billy Idol

—————————————————————————–

It was a chaotic Saturday night at Kate’s apartment as we lounged around her bedroom, tossing pretzel sticks at each other and passing around the bag of wine that Kate had stolen from her older brother. I sat crossed legged on the floor, scrolling through my phone and trying to find a game for us to play while squishing a ball of putty that I found on Kate’s desk.

“Kings,” I ask. “Anyone want to play that?”

“We don’t have any beer cans,” said Kate. “What’s the point? Unless you want to use Sprite.”

“You guys want to watch a movie or something?” Ned suggested. “Oo—like maybe a really bad one.”

“I could do that,” I said. “When’s Peter supposed to get here?”

Ned shrugged and checked his phone. “I don’t know. He told me he got tied up with something.”

“Should we wait?” Marty asked, with his usual zero-tolerance for tardiness. “I mean, I don’t want to wait all night for him to show up and have him bail on us again.”

“I’m cool starting now,” said Kate. “I don’t want to wait either.”

“What’s taking him so long?” I asked Ned. “Dude’s literally always late.”

“Probably the subway,” said Ned. “It’s been a nightmare this week.”

While Kate opened up her laptop and pulled up Netflix, I shut my eyes and listened to the city beyond her apartment, blocks away, trying to identify every voice that I’m suddenly zero’ed in on and every beep, hum, and crash. It was like a finger on the pulse of the pavement, a background static that I could tune into when ready.

I was almost ready to snap back into reality when I heard a cry, and it cut through the rest of the fuzzy wall of sound. Close. Could have been a few blocks away at most. You don’t have to do anything. You have no obligation to move off this floor. But didn’t I?

“I gotta grab some air,” I said quickly, standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

“What?” said Ned. “We’re about to start the movie.”

“Start without me,” I said. “I want to buy us snacks.”

I rushed out the apartment door, clattered down the steep staircase to the street, and found myself standing on a crowded sidewalk, as New Yorkers flowed like a river around me, many of them in line for the club next door. Focus. Where did that sound come from?

I took a few steps in one direction and then I heard the cry again. It was more defined now. Close. Close. I started running, pushing past other pedestrians, the crowd thinning out, and before I knew it, I was alone. Raised voices echoed off the buildings, and I followed them to an alley, where a haggard-looking woman was pushing back against a man making a grab for her backpack. Next to the woman sat a cardboard mat and several plastic milk crates. Everything of value she had was in that backpack.

“Hey,” I called down into the alley. “What’s going on?”

The man made a final pull for the backpack and stumbled back with it when I spoke.

“He trying to take my stuff!” said the woman, gesturing wildly. “I told him I didn’t have anything.”

“Dude,” I said. “Give her the backpack back.”

In a split-second decision, the man slung the bag over his shoulder and started running down the alley towards me in an attempt to flee.

The adrenaline hit like a wall when I realized how much bigger this guy was than me, but he was gaining on me and left me with few choices. My coat fell to the ground. The wings came out, and their shadow engulphed the dark alley.

“I said, give her the backpack back.”

Now the man cried out and fell back. “Fuck, who the fuck are you? Jesus, God fuck—”

“Easy nelly,” I said.

He fumbled for something in his coat, and as I moved to grab the backpack, out came the gun.

Aw fuck. Nice one, Willow. Really nice.

I lunged for the gun, just as he raised it. Shot fired. Miss. I clawed at his face and kicked upward, as hard as I could. I was so focused on that though, I missed the punch coming for my face and it hit my mouth straight on, splitting my lip wide open.

I may have enhanced skills, but I don’t have any enhanced resistance to pain.

“Fuck,” I yelled, and then screamed a war cry. Motherfucker was going down now.

I spun and the wings clapped him, hard, throwing him against the wall, the gun and the bag falling free. “You freak,” he said. “I’m calling the… police!” The woman scrambled to pick the bag up and I kicked the gun away.

“Get out of here,” I said to him. “And stop harassing homeless people you hoggish asshole.”

He got up and ran. I turned towards the woman, and she still had a look of horror on her face. The wings. I folded them back a little, but it was too late, it was too weird for her. Backpack fastened around her torso, she mumbled something and also took off running.

Whatever, I thought. You’re welcome. I retracted the wings and sighed, popping my headphones in for my walk back to Kate’s.

I shouldn’t have even left. It was stupid. Stupid. I’m not cut out for this stuff. I just get hurt and it sucks.

My phone buzzed and I stopped to open the text.

>Ned: Where did you go lol we’re still waiting

As I texted Ned back, I suddenly became aware of a figure stopped in front of me, from behind me on the sidewalk. I looked up from my phone and a man was standing there. He motioned for me to take off my headphones. Oh great. Please don’t be a missionary.

I graciously pulled out a single earbud. “What?”

“You should turn down that music. It’s bad for your ears.”

“Okay,” I said, and turned down the volume on Billy Idol.

“I was calling after you,” he said. “I saw what you did back there. It was tremendous. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

He was charismatic, over-the-top, and his voice gave me a prickly feeling on the back of my neck. But I stayed. Right there on the sidewalk. Listening. Get out of here, Willow. Get out, get out, get out.

“What’s your name?”

“Willow. Wren.”

Jesus, Willow, move now! Go, run!

“I’m going to ask you something and you have to answer me honestly,” he said, grinning. “I saw the wings, what else do you do?”

“I’m a fast healer,” I answered. “I can fight. I can hear really well.”

“Superhearing,” he mused, drawing it out like it was a song. “I bet that comes in handy.”

“Yeah.” Willow, you don’t EVEN tell someone about your powers! What are you doing?

“Give me your phone number.”

I gave it to him.

“When I call you, you’ll pick up, right?”

“Right. Yeah.”

“With wings like that, you must be a flier.”

“I am.”

“Good,” he handed me an envelope. “Deliver this for me. Address is here. She’s a bit difficult to get to. Shouldn’t be hard for you though.”

I think I did it, but I’m not sure. I couldn’t remember the rest of that night.

#willow wren #ww writing #ned leeds #marty fields #kate gray #kilgrave

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bangtanbabeloveyourself · 6 years

Text

Whiskey and Fantasies

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Word count: 3.9k

Summary: Babysitting Bangtan is nothing to scoff at. Especially when it’s for work. And one of the members wants in your pants but you also kinda wanna keep your job.

Author’s Note: I made this for two reasons. I didn’t get enough drabble requests for Yoongi this year, so I made a short story. I was also inspired by one of my favorite blogs ( @bang-tan-bitches ) and decided to write it out for them. Hope you like it.

You had been working at BigHit as an intern for a few months, starting during your summer break last year. You wanted to learn how to produce music and all the stars aligned and you were able to land a gig at the same company that represents your favorite boy group ever, BTS.

But, much to your dissatisfaction, you weren’t often around the boys. You could hear them-whether it be from running around the building, screaming, dancing, or singing- you could hear them. It was very rare when you actually got to see them. You had to keep telling yourself that you didn’t get the internship for the boys, you got it for your career. The boys just happened to be a special treat and should be treated as such. You needed to keep that attitude while there.

According to one of the ladies in charge of the program, most interns are fired within the first two weeks because of them pushing their professional boundaries. Some were caught in after hours to search for the boys. (Which explained why you got grilled so hard the one night you stayed over to finish a project). A few attempted to steal a shirt or jacket from one of the members as well. The scariest one was the girl who tried to follow Jungkook home from the company. Those kinds of fans disgusted you. These were human beings. They deserved decency and respect. Those fans gave all of ARMY a bad name.

With those stories in mind, you just gave up on the fantasy of spending time with BTS. It was unprofessional. You valued your job too much to risk it all for a fangirl day dream. You focused on the grunt work that they gave to you, probably taking on more than you should have, but you wanted to prove you were serious about this position. And it truly paid off.

There was a seminar about new production equipment and programs this weekend. You were chosen to join your manager and a few members of the group to attend. If all went well, you would be promoted. This was a huge honor for you. Going to a seminar like this would help to give you a better edge when you go back to class. The fact that some of the boys were going didn't even really hit you until you got a call from your manager a few hours before you were supposed to meet up with everyone. He wasn't going to be able to make it. There was a family emergency.

“But I'm not ready to do this. I don't have any experience. Plus, you have all the hotel information. What am I supposed to do?” You asked as you paced your living room.

“Listen Y/N. Calm down. I will give you the code to my office. Take my work laptop and the company credit card. You can do this. Just think of it as babysitting.” He said.

You forced a laugh. “Babysitting world famous pop stars in a city I've never been to with a company credit card. That doesn't worry you at all?”

You heard a chuckle. “You've proven yourself plenty of times. Besides, the guys have been there before. You just need to make sure they stay out of trouble.”

And with that, you had no choice. You stared at the clock as the time drew near. The knot in your stomach slowly growing. You needed to arrive early to go to your manager's office but you were nervous. Did the others know about him not going? You didn't even know which members were going with you.

Finally you sighed and grabbed your suitcase, double checking everything before making your way out of your apartment and on your way to the office. You managed to arrive without having to talk to anyone. You were able to get up to your manager's office without any disruptions. You opened your phone and typed in the code that he had given you and collected everything he told you to, putting it all in your bag.

When you made it back down to the lobby, you found a small group of about 5 people. The closer you got, you could make out two of the security team. The other three must have been the members.

You approached with caution before giving a soft bow. “Hello. I’m Y/N. I'm sorry, but Mr. Won won't be joining us. He had a family emergency.”

When you stood back up, you had to hold back a gasp. Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi and Jeon mother fucking Jungkook were all staring at you. You had seen them before, here and there but to be this close, you could see how beautiful they really were.

Namjoon nodded and Jungkook gave you a cute little bunny grin. “Don't worry, he got a hold of me. He said you were the boss.” Namjoon said before ushering you to lead the way.

“She's the boss? But she's barely older than me. How's that fair?” Jungkook teased.

You smirked. “Because I have ‘proven myself multiple times.’” You said, quoting your

boss.

Jungkook snorted. “Are you saying that I haven't?”

Yoongi swatted at the back of Jungkook's head. “Will you quit it? Let the woman do her job.”

You shrugged before you started to walk out towards the car. “All I'm saying is that I'm the one with the company credit card.”

Jungkook's eyes lit up and he moved to walk in front of you, making you stop walking. “So that means you'll be buying the liquor for the hotel?” He asked excitedly.

You smirked at him before patting his head. “That means I have the power to move you out of the top floor suite, maknae, so watch out.”

Namjoon and Yoongi laughed before one of them jokingly shoved the now pouting Jungkook as you all made your way to the black SUV that was parked out front. Despite them being world famous pop stars, they were fairly down to earth. You never imagined you'd feel so at ease around them that you could manage to tease the maknae and get away with it. But you couldn’t take it too far. This was still your job and this was a business trip. You were only here to learn at the seminar and keep the boys out of trouble. Basically, you were just an overpaid babysitter.

The seminar was about two hours away and most of that time was spent quietly. Yoongi had put headphones on as soon as he got comfortable in the car. He was out within minutes. Namjoon also brought headphones but spent most of his time scribbling into a notebook. Jungkook had brought some sort of game with him and kept busy with that for the majority of the trip. When he finally got bored, he started to pester you by asking you a bunch of questions about yourself and your job.

Eventually Namjoon chimed in as well, asking a few questions here and there. You explained your internship and why you wanted to work at BigHit, skimming over the part about you being one of their fans, although it was probably already assumed. Yoongi had woken up at some point- you hadn’t even noticed- until he attempted to ask a question but was interrupted by the door to the SUV opening. You had arrived.

***

You had managed to get the boys checked in with no issues. Apparently Mr. Won had called ahead to let the front desk know the situation. For that, you were grateful. They had reserved the entire top floor of the hotel for BigHit, which meant you all got your own room and didn’t have to worry about other people. The seminar was being held downstairs in one of the large ballrooms, which meant no one had to leave the hotel until everyone left tomorrow. Perfect.

You didn't have much time in between getting everyone checked in and getting all of your things together before the seminar. You decided to take one of the rooms closest to the elevator so you could hear if anyone tried to leave. You looked down at your phone and realized the seminar started in only twenty minutes. You quickly got ready, grabbing all of the things your boss wanted you to bring. Then you rounded up all the guys and made your way down.

Luckily most of the people attending the seminar were very professional. BTS wasn't the only celebrities there, so you didn't have to worry too much. They were really good at formal situations. The seminar wasn't what you were worried about. It was the time after.

The seminar went by smoothly. You took diligent notes for not only your boss, but for yourself as well. Once everyone started to file out, you made sure to keep tabs on all three of them, making sure they all got back to their rooms before you did. By the time you had finally gotten into your room and gotten changed, you had someone pounding on your door. You groaned and got up, opening it. There was a bright eyed maknae smiling down at you.

“So, about that liquor…” he began, batting his long eyelashes at you.

You sighed. “Do you really think getting trashed is a good idea?”

“If you don’t go buy the liquor, he’ll go looking for it.” You heard Namjoon yell from his room.

Jungkook smirked at you and nodded. You groaned before turning around to grab your purse off of your bedside table. “Fine, but you’re staying here until I get back. Namjoon, please, can you watch him?”

Namjoon walked up to your door and gave you the ok with his finger before walking back to his room.

“Why does everyone assume I need baby sat?” Jungkook pouted.

“Because you’re a child.” Yoongi said as he appeared, finally coming out of his room, the one across from yours.

Jungkook rolled his eyes before looking Yoongi over. He was wearing a face mask and long black coat. “Where are you going?” He asked his hyung.

Yoongi yawned before shrugging. “We need liquor and I don’t know if I can trust Y/N’s taste.”

You raised your eyebrow before crossing your arms. “That’s a little rude, don’t you think?”

He shrugged again before making his way towards the elevator. “I have very specific tastes. It’s not your fault.”

You huffed but followed along after him. You didn’t want to have to, but he probably knows where the liquor store is, you don’t. The elevator ride was extremely awkward, for you anyway. Yoongi didn’t seem any different. He stayed quiet, looking through his phone until the doors dinged open. He then made his way out with you at his heels.

“How far away is the liquor store?” You asked as he put his mask fully over his face and walked out of the hotel.

You heard him chuckle. “You were planning on buying the alcohol but have no idea where it is? Jesus, where did they dig you up?”

You glared at him as you walked. If you had heat vision, his hair would be on fire already. “Look, I wasn’t supposed to be in charge. I just came here for the seminar. I just happened to get stuck babysitting you guys. I don’t enjoy it anymore than you do.”

He turned his head to the side to look at you. “Who said I didn’t enjoy it?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, what?” Your blush was easily hidden due to the cold weather outside. Luckily. You couldn’t see his whole face but you were willing to bet he had a smirk on his lips.

He didn’t say anything else until you were down the street from the liquor store. He pointed towards it for you. Thankful to have one so close, you rushed past Yoongi and made your way inside to look at the selection.

You weren’t exactly sure what the guys all drank besides soju. You made sure to pick up some of that. You wandered down the vodka aisle, then the tequila aisle, stopping to pick up a bottle there. Finally you made it to the whiskey section. Whiskey was a personal favorite of yours so you were more inclined to buy that.

You looked at each bottle, trying to decide if you should get something new or something you already knew was good. As you debated between two bottles, Yoongi came up from behind you, pressing his chest against your back nonchalantly and grabbed the two whiskey bottles, looking them over.

“Not bad. Maybe I could have trusted your taste.” He said with a hushed voice against your ear. You had to fight back the shiver that wanted to go down your spine.

With that, he took both of the bottles and made his way up to the counter, waiting for you to join him. You brought the rest of the drinks and mixers up, paying for all of it with the company card. You were worried you were spending company money inappropriately. But Namjoon did give you a good reason. This way they can just stay in the hotel. It's safer.

The walk back to the hotel was silent. Yoongi didn't bother to say anything and after that awkward incident with him, you were fine with not talking. Once inside, you dropped off all of the alcohol in Namjoon's room and turned to head back out.

“You're not staying to drink?” Jungkook whined.

You shook your head before pointing at yourself. “Babysitter, remember? Someone needs to stay sober.”

Jungkook groaned and Namjoon smiled, giving you his big dimpled grin. “It won't be that bad. Come on.”

You tried to protest again but a glass of whiskey was pushed into your hand by a wandering Yoongi. He didn't look at you, but took a sip of his own glass as he walked over to an open chair.

You looked down at your glass and then back over to the guys. Jungkook's doe eyes looking hopefully up at you. You sighed and downed the glass, causing Jungkook and Namjoon to cheer. You rolled your eyes and refilled your glass. It was going to be a long night.

***

After a few hours of drinking and playing games, Namjoon had gone to bed. Jungkook passed out on the floor next to the bed. That left you and Yoongi as the only two awake. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and motioned for you to follow him. You did after taking a few moments to stabilize yourself.

He lead you both to his room, opening the door and letting you in. You hesitated for a moment and you heard Yoongi scoff before he gently pushed you into the room. You looked around and saw all of the equipment he had set up. He was only gone for one day and he still managed to bring all of this with him. You couldn't help the spark you felt when you saw it all. You immediately set your drink down on a table and went over to look over all the equipment. You didn't dare touch, but you cautiously hovered over it.

You continued to look over it, making comments here and there. You didn't usually have access to this kinds of equipment unless you were in class. You had completely forgotten where you were and who you were with until he cleared his throat.

“You know, most girls would kill to be in a room alone with a drunken idol. Yet here you are, ogling over my production equipment instead of me.” He tutted before finishing the whiskey in his glass and walking over to you.

You blushed at his comment but shrugged it off. “I made up my mind a long time ago. You guys are a fantasy. My job is a reality. I won't jeopardize that.”

“A fantasy? But darling, I'm right here.” Yoongi spoke softly as he moved against your back just like he had at the liquor store. He ran a finger down your arm, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You bit your lip and closed your eyes. He was right. This wasn't a fantasy anymore. Min Yoongi was touching you. You two were alone in his room. No one else would know what happened between you.

Yoongi's finger moved from your arm to glide across your waist, right along the waistband of your jeans, sending another shiver down your spine. This time you grabbed his hand, pulling it away from you.

“I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here.” You said before turning to walk out.

But Yoongi held onto your hand, stopping you. You didn't turn around. You just let him hold your hand and you sighed.

“You're getting the chance of a lifetime here, and you're going to turn it down because of an internship?” He asked, sounding almost wounded.

You nodded your head, unable to come up with something else to say. He was right. This could be an amazing opportunity. Sex with Suga of BTS. You'd practically be a legend. But then you would never be taken seriously as a music producer.

“Look at me.” He demanded.

You sighed and turned around, his hand still holding yours. There was something in his eyes, but you couldn't make it out. He started to step towards you and you stepped back until you were against the wall.

He smirked and continued to move closer to you. He held your hand above your head against the wall and leaned in to whisper in your ear. “I won't tell if you won't.”

Your face began to heat up immediately and you felt a tingle between your thighs. You looked away from his face, shaking your head. “It's not a good idea, Yoongi. The company is strictly against this sort of thing.”

“Fuck the company.” He whispered into your ear before he tugged your earlobe between his teeth. It caused you to gasp and you clenched your thighs together.

You could feel the grin on his lips as he moved down to your neck, kissing it softly before leaving little nibbles. He used his free hand to hold onto your waist, pulling you closer to his hardening groin.

You wanted to give in so bad. You wanted to let him do whatever he wanted to you. But you couldn't. If anyone walked in right now, if anyone found out, you'd lose everything you've worked for.

But it felt so good. One of the most beautiful men in the world wanted you. How could you say no? You'd be crazy to say no. But the reality of the situation was too much. He wasn't going to love you. You just happened to be a nice piece of ass that worked for the same company he did. And you were definitely more than just a piece of ass.

As you had your internal struggle, Yoongi had dropped your other hand, now keeping both on your waist. He finally lifted his lips from your neck and looked back at you, confusion washing over his face.

“You're really not into this, are you?” He said with disappointment in his voice.

You met his gaze for a moment, crossing your arms over your chest and looking back at the floor. “It's not that I'm not into it. You are my bias.” You gasped and covered your mouth with your hand.

Yoongi smirked. “Oh really? Good to know.”

You shook your head. “Forget I said that.”

“Unlikely, but continue.” He said as he took a few steps away from you.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Look, you're great and I have so much I would love to learn from you and from working at this company. But like I told you earlier. I'm not risking my career to be your side piece or your hook up or whatever. I will not jeopardize this job.”

He stayed silent, nodding his head as you spoke. “Interesting take on the situation. But alright, I hear you. No more trying to get in you in my bed. Got it.” He walked over to the door and held it open for you, not saying another word.

You felt a knot grow in your stomach again. You just made your favorite member of BTS hate you. Great way to end the trip. You took a deep breath before bowing towards him and walking out of his room and going straight into yours. So much had gone on in such a short amount of time. Your mind didn’t know how to process everything.

You plopped down onto your bed, not even bothering to get under the sheets. You buried your face in the pillow and groaned. Why did you get your wish after you got serious about the job? Was this punishment for not forwarding those chain emails in middle school? Probably. Luckily for you, with all the alcohol in your system, your mind didn’t wander for long and you managed to fall asleep.

***

The ride back to BigHit was rather uneventful. You all had to get up early to leave because BTS had an appearance for something or other that afternoon. You were still hungover but all of the guys looked perfectly fine. Of course they did. They’re BTS. Before anyone could start a conversation with you, you put your own earbuds in and closed your eyes. You knew you weren’t going to catch up on any sleep, but anything was better than trying to make conversation at this point.

When you finally arrived back at BigHit, you waited until they all got out of the car before you left. You bowed to them and thanked them for the opportunity to work with them and left before they could say another word. You dashed over to the elevator quickly, heading straight up to your boss’ office and returned his laptop and company card. You sat down at his desk, emailing the remaining notes to yourself before closing it and letting out a sigh. What a weekend.

You waited upstairs for another half hour before you finally felt safe enough to head home. You didn’t want to risk running into them again. You couldn’t face Yoongi again after everything. This was just easier. When you felt the coast was clear, you finally left and made the trek to your apartment.

You were greeted with a giant bouquet of red roses. You reached down to grab the little card that was attached.

You’re more than a nice piece of ass. You’ve got pretty good taste in whiskey too. See you Monday- Your Bias

You smiled down at the note in your hand, biting your lip and swaying like a lovestruck middle school girl. You knew two things were true: Min Yoongi works quickly, and for the first time in your life, you were excited for a Monday.

#bts #bangtanarmynet #bangtan #bangtanbabeloveyourself #suga #yoongi #min yoongi #whiskey #drinking #alcohol #hotel #seminar #music producer #bighit #fanfic

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phoenixisstrange · 5 years

Text

The Best Day Forever Chapter 1 (Edited)

But I am wrong. It begins with me, in a nice suburban house doing my own thing going about my day. I guess I live here? I don't know who I live with or if I live alone but I encounter neighbors and friends (I don't remember specific interactions). I don’t even know how I got this beautiful house OR what town it’s in. It’s like someone created me and my life, peppered in some aspects of my personality and memory and dropped me into it. So I wake up in my? bed.

I wake up, make myself breakfast, and acquaint myself with my neighborhood. As if I haven’t lived here for quite some time-- judging off of the bills I have sitting on the counter waiting to be paid. I open the front door. It’s a big wooden door with a little window that has decorative iron bars encasing it. Whoever designed this house did a damn nice job. I admire my front door as if I’ve never seen it before. As I step out onto my front porch I am greeted by a symphony of wildlife and a beautiful panorama of the forest. This was an intentional design point of the house. The way the forest sits inside of the frame of my porch is so perfect that it must be deliberate. The facade of my house faces a dense forest but I do have neighbors on either side of my property.

To the left I see a mother herding her 3 kids into her minivan, well trying at least. One of the kids is running around screaming; wearing only one flip flop on. The other kid has dropped her bookbag on the ground. The third sits strapped into the car quietly. “Brandy stop moving and put your damn flip flop on, we’re going to be late!” the mom corrals her child into the van.

I chuckle and breathe in the crisp morning air as it mingles with the scent of my piping hot coffee. The house to the right is a bit smaller and nobody seems to be home. After I finish my coffee, I go back inside and look at my schedule. It’s my day off.

I text my girls, Iz and Cree to see what they’re up to. I guess they also live in the area. Whatever the area is. The girls arrive and we set up camp in my warmly-lit living room. A low-budget Netflix horror movie plays in the background as we sip our Rosé.

“So how’s Carter?” I ask Iz.

“He’s good, he’s interviewing for a job at a new dealership as a sales manager”

“Good for him, I wish him luck in all his managerial endeavors” I say with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Phoenix---How’s your love life??” She did it. She asked the dreaded question.

“Heh, funny you should ask… You would probably have an easier time finding a human being on Mars than I would finding a lover. ” Wow, I’ve actually lost count of how many times I’ve answered that. Me? Jaded? Never. Just realistic. I have too much going on to focus on finding someone right now. That’s what I tell myself at night when the loneliness hits.

“Unfortunately my lover either doesn’t exist or doesn’t want me.” I add. You can practically see my dignity leaving the room.

“Sometimes you just gotta ride the wave alone...” Cree-- who appears to be catatonic on the couch-- mutters from beneath a blanket.

“Facts” Iz and I say in unison.

We finish a bottle of wine and cook some ramen. I never eat Ramen, I can’t stand it. But Iz and Cree love it so I guess that’s why my cabinets are stacked with the stuff. Either that or I am preparing for the inevitable collapse of our organized society. In that case, I know for a fact that I won’t go hungry. There’s so many packets of chicken flavored instant noodles hiding in my cabinets that I could feed a tribe in the post apocalyptic world.

The fragrance of the salty noodles dances with the incense that burns in the living room. The sound of a woman being possessed by the devil blares from the tv speakers.

“Haven’t we watched this movie already?” Iz clearly isn’t into it. “Probably, but all Netflix horror movies are the same. They usually end up as white noise anyway.”

“I like it.” Cree chimes in

“If Cree thinks it’s a good movie, then obviously it’s a good movie Iz.” Sarcasm.

“Cree said Suicide Squad was her favorite movie. She cannot be trusted to judge a good movie!”

“Everyone thought that movie was so bad but y’all just don’t appreciate good art.” Cree stands firmly by her decision.

The movie concludes with the predictable ending where the antagonist--who has succumbed to demonic possession-- is cleansed of evil through a dramatic exorcism. The entire house that the movie is set in is destroyed. This forces the traumatized family to move out of the beautiful home they recently purchased. The movie ends on a cliff-hanger where a new family moves into the very house--which has now been repaired--in hopes to start a life. Boring.

The girls leave at about 11 pm. I take a quick shower and pour myself a glass of seltzer. Nights like this are ideal for stargazing. Not a cloud in the sky and cool enough to have the windows open in the house. Apparently, I missed my mark. I open my door to a rather jarring sight. Expecting the usual chirping of the cicadas and a star speckled sky; I am met with a rising sun. The sky is not an 11 pm sky it’s a 6 am sky. I’m confused and kind of scared. My mind starts to race. How drunk did we get last night? It was just a few glasses of wine not enough to black out the entire fucking night. I text Cree and Iz. No response. I figure they’re sleeping.

My phone says 5:47 am on Saturday, 7/23. My day off is Saturday, which would be the 23rd. Saturday was yesterday. I turn on the TV to verify the date and News 12 confirms my fear of today’s date, 7/23. The annual family cookout is being held tomorrow at the park. 4 pm sharp, don’t miss it! Did I skip work yesterday? No way, I would’ve gotten a call. My head is spinning at this point and I decide to lay down for a bit.

The sound of the news 12 anchorwoman echoes in my head. “This weekend is going to be a hot one. Anyone planning on traveling west towards the coast should take care to leave a little bit early because of heavy delays along all major highways.”

I drift in and out of consciousness and finally give up. I’ve watched the sun rise through the skylight that is fixed above the couch. That big ball of fire has climbed straight into the center of the skylight. The big ball of fire is blinding me. The time is 8:30 according to my phone. I barely slept a wink. My mind was too busy trying to figure out if I was going batshit or if I was actually trapped in a temporal loop. I mean, that would be cool because then that would mean that time loops do exist but not cool because of the fact that I would be caught in one by myself.

My phone buzzes to life with a message from Iz. “What are you talking about? Ladies night didn’t happen hunny.” I’m wigged.

“Must’ve dreamt it! We need a night soon, hunnies.” I reply.

“Ok Phoenix… This is the sitch, yesterday was Friday. You accidentally skipped work and today is Saturday. Wine night was just a dream because you have been missing Cree and Iz lately…” I am rambling to myself in the dark. Yes, that will spare my sanity. I drag myself off the couch since sleep isn’t happening. I step outside at around 9. Once again, the forest is roaring with life and so is the mother next door…

“Brandy stop moving and put your damn flip flop on, we’re going to be late!”…. I need to leave.

I go to the store and begin piling snacks and random food items into my cart. It’s been a while since I’ve been food shopping so this is OK.

“Ice cream and wine. Check.” I say to myself. Drink myself out of the loop. Yeah, that’ll work. I see this really cute girl staring intently at a box of Gushers. For a second, it’s as if my world isn’t imploding on itself and I’m just at the store looking at a beautiful girl I’d like to know. For some reason, she’s engrossed by these artificially flavored fruit snacks. It looks as if she’s deep in thought, something is on her mind so she is occupying the time with food shopping. She’s about my height; she’s got long and silky chocolate brown hair that’s pulled back into a messy bun. I realize that I’m staring at her with as much focus as she is at those Gushers. She feels my eyes and returns to reality, she glances at me. A subtle smirk spreads across her face as she looks me and my wine bottles up and down.

“The bigger the bottle the bigger the problem huh?” She jokes.

“No bottle will solve this problem but at least it’ll make me forget about it.”

She chuckles and walks away. I buy my wine bottles and go home to forget what day it is.

Listen, I won’t lie, I like to party. I love day drinking. But cracking open a fresh bottle of wine the size of a bowling pin at 10 am by myself after realizing I may never live to see tomorrow is new for me. I can’t say I hate it. I sit on the couch. The News 12 anchor-bitch is still blabbering about the family cookout-- that is supposed to take place tomorrow-- too bad. I drunkenly type away on my laptop. Scouring the darkest corners of the internet to find out anything about time loops that exist outside of science fiction. Turns out, not many people who find themselves in my situation take to Reddit to write about it... I take notes from the Twilight Zone subreddit because at this point I’m desperate for answers. My quest for information bears no fruit.

I did learn that a time loop is different from a causal loop, which would occur because of a previous event. My situation however, is anomalous and is unrelated to anything as far as I know. I’ve started a fresh note on my laptop titled “The Best Day Forever! :)).” This is where I dump everything I know about the situation.

So far, I know that this loop resets but I don’t know the interval or the trigger. Things that I interact with seems to stay the same with the exception of people, they don’t remember our interactions. The coffee I made the first go around was still in the pot when I went for coffee round 2. People and things outside of my control reset as if they’re characters in a video game who have a script and a path. I begin thinking, dangerous thinking.

“Why is this happening? Why to me?” I ask aloud as if someone is going to answer me. At this point, I wouldn’t be shocked if I got an answer from some omniscient voice.

“What is the point of all of this?” I ask out loud again. Then I begin to think of everything I had done leading up to the moment I woke up on the morning of July 23rd the first time. My memory is extremely fogged, almost non-existent. I’m struggling to produce even the vaguest memory of anything that happened before Saturday. Was it raining yesterday? Did I even leave my house yesterday? I don't know.

Come to think of it I don't remember much of anything before Saturday. I don’t know how I got this house. I don't know who Iz and Cree are except that we’re friends and have wine nights pretty often--though they have been less frequent for some reason. I don’t know Carter…But I do.

It’s as if these memories were fabricated. I remember the facts. I, Phoenix, own this house in this pacific northwestern town and I am a barista at a local coffee shop. I moved to this town after graduating-- in hopes to pursue my dream of opening my own shop and building a house in the forest. Anything beyond that is smudged. I can make out the memory if I hyper-focus. But even then it’s just the blueprint of a life, details are scarce. I’m spiraling, existential crisis mode has initiated and now I’m just stressed out and drunk at 1 in the afternoon. I need air.

I step outside and check my phone. The time is exactly 1:27 pm and a blue Subaru drives down my road with a big old husky hanging out the window living his best life. I start down the road towards the forest.

#chapter 1 #The Best Day Forever #fiction #science fiction #writing #My writing #short story #storytelling #beginner #writeblr #wip #work in progress #work #books

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dreamstormdragon · 5 years

Text

OC Snippet Tag

Rules of the game: Pick an OC and answer the following 7 Qs!

I got tagged by @theblueskyphoenix

As for an OC… Darnit making me choose between all my babies.

I pick my Spider-Verse OC Athena Parker, because I’ve been wanting to do more with her but am on a bit of a “Don’t do anything new until after nano” so… Yeah.

1. Your OC is at a jazz bar when they see a mysterious, alluring dame being pestered by a joe that just won’t let up. What do they do?

She, really wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. She was just there to make a trade of goods, with a seller because it was cheaper than shipping.

However, she wasn’t about to sit there and watch that happen. The girl stood up, adjusting her gloves, taking aim.

The guy opened his mouth, for another pickup line, when he was silenced by a glob of web across his mouth. He let out a muffled yell of alarm, as he started looking around, expecting New York’s favorite webslinger to be hanging around the bar somewhere.

Athena tapped the woman’s shoulder gesturing for her to sit next to her.

“Thank you… I have no idea where that came from though.”

She smiled.

“Maybe there’s a friendly neighborhood spider chilling around. Root beer?”

“Please.”

2. The world will be destroyed in three days. What does your OC do with their remaining time?

The world, was going to collapse in three days. No one had expected that blasted device, to be recreated in another universe… Let alone a universe full of danger like no other.

“This is going to be tough.” She remarked, looking down at the ruined city, her hair blowing in the wind.

The man beside her, narrowed his eyes, giving her a nudge.

“You wanna sit and wait for the world to die, or get home in time for dinner?”

Athena smirked, pulling down her mask.

“Let’s stop the zombie apocalypse. I wanna punch zombie you in the face.” She gave a thumbs up, showing she had a capsule in one hand. “We can make a cure rain right?”

Peter patted her head, before pulling his own mask down.

“Let’s roll.”

3. Your OC spends the night in a haunted house for a bet, only to realize that the rumours might be true… What do they do?

She hummed a little under her breath, her mind trying to block out any of the noises coming from around her.

Yarn over, pull through, yarn over pull through…

The air around her went cold, as something icy grabbed her shoulder.

“I, swear if you interrupt my counting I’m gonna sock you.” She growled, turning as a large misty apparition shrunk down behind the couch. “That’s what I thought!”

“Boss…” A voice whispered. “What do we do? She just gets mad!”

“Take her dang yarn!”

Athena held up a spray mister, meant for plants.

“You touch my yarn, I cleanse you out of this dimension.”

4. A character your OC cares deeply about has just passed away. How do they handle their grief?

She supposed, it was too good to be true. To believe she’d ever have a full and happy family, where no one was going to disappear from her life.

She sobbed harder, burying her face into a bundle in her arms. His spare suit, his mask… It still smelled like the laundry soap he used for it and baby powder.

MJ was downstairs, dealing with the press but Athena… Athena couldn’t go down there. It was just a reminder, that in the end…

Spider-Man, chose to save her instead of himself.

Dad… Why? Why did you do this to me?

She sat up, slowly staring down at the mask. No more night time runs in their casual clothes, no more sitting up late watching movies while making jokes.

No more dramatic sighing whenever we go to the craft store…

No more tucking me in at night… No more kissing Mom goodbye before patrol…

“You were supposed to be there for me… I’m not ready for this part…. I’m not ready,...” She growled, her voice shaking as she punched the mask down into her mattress. “You were supposed to give me away at my wedding you jerk!”

She sunk down into her bed, curling up.

“You… You were the only one who got what I’m going through…”

Dad….

Please come back.

Please let this be a bad dream I can wake up from…

I need you… I’m scared.

Daddy, I’m scared…

I’m scared of the dark...

5. Your OC walks into a coffee shop. What kind of coffee do they order?

Athena hummed a little, strolling into her favorite shop.

“Ah, if it isn’t the weaver!” The barista laughed. “How hard did your dad’s credit card cry this time?”

Athena grinned, holding up a hefty bag from her favorite yarn store.

“Pretty bad. Can I have a mocha frapp with extra java chips, six pumps of vanilla and caramel?” She asked.

The barista winced.

“Oh… Oh, you are terrible. You want actual coffee in that?”

Athena stuck her tongue out.

“Nope. Give me my overly sugary drink fix please!”

6. Your OC finds themselves in a financial pinch - they need money, and fast. Who do they go to or what do they do to get the dough?

Athena sighed heavily, looking up from her laptop, to the people across the room. Her mother met her eyes, as she shook her head getting up quickly. She wanted no part of this upcoming war.

“Daaaad.” She called, in the most sugary sweet voice she could manage. “How much do you love me?”

Peter didn’t look up from the report he was typing up for the Bugle. “How much is this gonna cost me?”

“Just… a hundred and fifty…”

“For what?”

“Freshly dyed, baby alpaca yarn… and angora in some beautiful shades.” She batted her eyes, trying to get him to look her in the eyes. “I promise, I won’t ask for anything else!”

“Athena… I’m gonna teach you a lesson my aunt May taught me.” Peter looked up at her with a stern look. “I’m not made of money. I’ll drop cash gladly on your yarn that doesn’t cost me an arm and a leg but if you want that really fancy crap, either wait until the holidays or your birthday. Or find a way around it. But I am not dropping that much on new yarn, when you have tons of it upstairs.”

Athena sighed heavily, looking down at the skeins she oh so desperately wanted. She already could imagine the sweaters and shawls she could create from them.

Then… she got an idea… Athena looked up at him, giving another innocent look.

“Dad? Can I have an etsy store?”

“By all means, if it gets rid of the yarn you’re stashing in my spider shed go for it.”

A few days later, Athena was listing batches of Spider-Man related memorabilia on her new etsy store, from jackets to order by commission, to premade little plushies of the famous webslinger… and a few of her own persona.

“You think people really are gonna buy Arachne stuff?” She fidgeted, looking at the tiny plushie in her hands, that resembled her costume.

Peter patted her head, taking it and slipping her a twenty. She looked up at him in surprise.

“I know at least one person who will.” He winked, giving her a grin. “I think I’ll make her my little desk guardian at work.”

Athena giggled, hugging him tightly.

“Love you Dad.”

“Love you too Weaver.”

7. Your OC somehow obtains the ability to time travel. Where do they go, and what do they do?

She was going to stop this. She had been so determined to stop it… she didn’t think about what would happen when she did. She saw her younger self, milling around a shop room, singing under her breath.

Before she had been bitten by a radioactive spider, dropped into her dimension… while it sucked her newly divorced future parent into another.

She had been intending to jump back, to stop the divorce from happening in the first place… but it made her pause.

Her younger self, had been so alone… She had her group home, yes. Her fiber art club at school.

But years of accumulating skills, taught to her by people who had said “we promise this is the last home.” Had hurt…

Arachne stared at Athena, spotting a familiar bright green, blue and black spider crawling along the wall.

Soon, I’m gonna get bit… Then in a few months, Mom and Dad are gonna drop in on my life...

Gosh and I was gonna mess up a good thing I had…

I love my parents… but I know if I stop that, then I stop this.

Then I stop my family from existing…

So, she turned away. She jumped back to her own time, throwing away the device that was letting her make the jumps. Trading her costume, for her favorite dress and jacket, bolting down the streets towards home.

Home, with her room that had the special shelves, just for her ever growing collections of yarn and thread.

Home, with the old school sewing machine her aunt May had left to MJ when she passed.

Home, with her weaving loom and her knitting needles and crochet hooks…

Home…

With her parents.

ooooo

Aaaaahhhh this was fun, to explore Athena a little bit, since I do wanna do more for my spider gal. For now… This shall be it. This was fun!

Let’s see…

I taaaaag….

No one. >83

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chokememrstark · 6 years

Text

The Soulmate Sam Never Asked For // Part 7

Ship: Samifer (Sam Winchester / Lucifer)

Words: 2746 (Chapter 7 / 12)

Fic Summary: The next day, Sam returns to the hospital hopefully, only to be faced with the horrors that the last night brought for Lucifer. He never thought he would see his classmate the way he does now, but it makes him realize that his decision to help him was the right one.

college!AU, human!AU, soulmates!AU, dysfunctional families, abusive parents, dramatic romance, or romantic drama, your choice, big brother!Lucifer, soulmates hating each other, referenced alcoholism, death and abuse, some violence, and lots of feels, fluff and cuteness, some drama but not too much, lots of bickering, and two damn stubborn soulmates (!!)

Note: My lovely beta reader @brieflymaximumprincess called this a rom-com and even though I don’t believe it is, in my eyes, it does have certain elements of it. This is not the angst you know from me, not at all.

Yes, there is some drama, but there is also a lot of sweet and cute moments, much more than the dramatic ones. I guess you could say I accidentally wrote cute fluff? Because it was not intended, but here we are.

This fic is already completed and will be posted by the regular schedule from now on: Thuesday, Thursday and Saturday! So, enjoy ♥

Tagging: @shebahda @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @spnyoucantkeepmedown @brieflymaximumprincess @multifandomhcsforinsanity @etysky @justasmalltownsuperwholock @humongouscandycoffee @daddycasstiel @nnegann @blakechaos08

If you want off the tag list or want to be added, just drop me an ask or IM!

Read on AO3!

Sam would have loved to just stay in his bed forever and not think about anything other than sleep anymore, but he couldn't do that. He had promised Lucifer to come back today, and Raphael too, and he knew he couldn't break this promise. Too much depended on it, if he just stayed here he would be a total coward and an awful human being. So, when noon came closer, Sam pushed himself off the bed and got dressed properly.

With a duffle bag full of clothes and other necessities, as well as his laptop and the hope he was making the right decision, Sam locked the door to his room and made his way outside. He called a taxi to get to the hospital again, this time the ride was much shorter because they didn't stop to buy flowers. At the hospital Sam walked up to the info counter again, luckily facing the same young woman from the day before.

“Hello there!” she greeted him surprised. “Back for a visit?”

“For starters,” he smiled and showed her his bag. “I might stay a while, we'll see.”

“Right, doctor Francis told me! I’m really proud of you for offering your help, you are truly a wonderful young man.”

“Thank you, but it’s nothing,” Sam smiled awkwardly. He did not expect this kind of reaction.

“It’s more than most people would do,” the woman smiled back brightly. “Lucifer instructed me to let you through when you arrive, same way as yesterday.”

“Thank you.”

Sam had expected Lucifer to pick him up again, but he still remembered where they went to before luckily, so he easily found his way alone. He knocked at the door, hearing a quiet voice asking him to come in after a moment. When he did, he saw Raphael sitting upright in his bed and Lucifer laying half on his blanket, head on his arms and visibly asleep. He had to smirk at this sight. He closed the door as quiet as possible and walked over to the bed.

“Hey, Raph,” Sam whispered as the boy grinned at him. “Did your brother have a long night?”

“Dad was mean to him again,” Raphael scowled and looked at Lucifer. “He didn't get any sleep I think.”

“That's awful,” Sam said sadly and carefully carried another chair over to the bed to sit down. “Where's your little brother? Didn't he bring him over today?”

“Luci said he'll stay with friends for a while,” Raphael answered very quietly and visibly sad. “He didn't wanna tell me why. Maybe he was too tired.”

“I'm sure he'll be fine,” Sam assured the boy, but deep down he feared there was more behind it than just that. There was no reason to upset Raphael though, so he decided to ask Lucifer later and focus on his little brother for now. “What are you doing right now? Do you wanna play a game maybe?”

“Yes!” Raphael's eyes lightened up at the question. “But we have to be quiet so Luci can sleep.”

“I think we can do that,” Sam smiled.

After a bit of searching through one of the closets near the door, Sam found a memory game and a card game they could play and the two actually spent the next two hours with quiet laughter and silent victory cheers. Sam really enjoyed playing with Raphael. He was obviously really happy and excited about this new experience. They were in another round of playing cards - Sam tried to explain the basics of poker to the boy because he had asked and Raphael turned out to be a very good student - when Lucifer finally moved and slowly got up.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Raphael greeted his big brother, who looked at the two in front of them rather confused for a moment.

“Sam?” he asked before quickly hiding a yawn behind his hand. “What are you doing here?”

“Getting destroyed by your brother,” Sam laughed and put his cards down. “He's just too good for me to win.”

“I told you, I learn fast!” Raphael grinned and put the cards together to shuffle them. “Another round?”

“Later, okay?” Sam said and looked back at Lucifer. “I hope you don't mind, we didn't wanna wake you up, so we played some games.”

“It's alright, no worries.” Lucifer yawned again, rubbing his eyes. “Do you wanna grab a coffee?”

“Sure, do you mind Raphael?” Sam asked, but the boy just shook his head.

“I still got my book, I'll be fine.” Raphael smiled.

“We won't be gone for long, promised,” Lucifer said as he got up. Sam smiled at Raphael quickly before following the blond outside of the room.

“Your brother is really sweet,” Sam said as he followed Lucifer down into the cantina, to which the other simply nodded. Only after they got two strong coffees and sat down somewhere, Lucifer spoke again.

“Sorry for that, the sleeping thing, I mean.” Lucifer groaned and gulped down a huge sip of steaming brown liquid. “I didn't know you were coming over so early. I was just so damn tired, I guess I passed out.”

“Don't apologize, you needed some sleep,” Sam assured Lucifer and took a sip of his coffee too. “Raph and I had quite some fun together, it's alright.”

“Thanks for entertaining him a bit, I think he really misses company sometimes.”

“He got you at least, I'm sure he appreciates that.”

Lucifer sighed, but didn't answer. Sam thought he knew why. A brother was nice, but it was different from actually having friends and that seemed to get to Lucifer quite hard. He didn't want this for his brother and Sam understood. Just the thought of Dean being in a similar situation without him being able to do anything was more than just a little depressing.

“I talked to doctor Francis yesterday,” Lucifer eventually said without looking up. “He told me the tests were all positive, only the blood work needed to be done.”

“I know, I'm glad it all went well,” Sam nodded. “I made sure I can still keep up with school if I'll stay here, the counselor said I might be able to copy someone else's notes who keeps them online and reschedules a test I have, so it won't end in total chaos.”

“I never thought of that,” Lucifer chuckled deeply. “I'm already weeks behind again because I just said I'll be gone for a while. I already lost two years because of this, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had to drop out completely this time.”

“You have more important things on your mind than classes for now,” Sam smiled knowingly. “When this is all over I can help you catch up with everything if you want to. I mean, it’s just a few weeks now, right? I’m sure you can still make it.”

“I'll manage somehow, but thanks.” Lucifer shook his head, but more to himself than towards Sam. “I'm more worried about Gabe right now, I'm not sure if Raphael told you.”

“He said he stays with friends for a while because your dad was mean to you again.”

“That's the light version of what happened,” Lucifer scoffed. “I didn't want to scare him more than I had to, but he asked about his brother of course.”

“It's much worse, right?” Sam asked and Lucifer nodded sadly.

“CPS took him,” he said with the most heartbreaking shame in his voice. “One of the neighbors finally had enough and called the cops when my old man lost it again last night. Gabe woke up from the noise and he has a huge bruise on his arm from falling a few days ago, they saw it of course didn't believe me when I told them about it and called CPS for his own safety. I saw it happen, even comforted him, but they didn't seem to listen. They thought dad beat him up and said they had to do it.”

“I'm so sorry, Lucifer,” Sam whispered and laid a hand on the other’s. “Is there nothing you can do? I’m sure they want him to be happy and well, right?”

“I might've made it worse when they said they'd take him… dad didn't give a shit about the news and somehow my hand and his nose had a small meeting. His nose lost.”

“Ouch.” Sam felt awful, but his lips still jerked at the thought of Lucifer breaking his dad's nose.

“He launched at me and they arrested him because I'm still a minor,” Lucifer smirked with a hint of pride. “But it'll be hard to get Gabe back, they told me. I talked to the CPS lady for a few hours and she said they won't let him go back to my dad. She believed me when I told her that I would do anything for him and that he never hit him, but if I want him back I need to file for custody and to do that I need a place to live and money and, of course, be a legal adult…”

“Fuck, that sure is a mess...”

“Yeah,” Lucifer huffed unamused. “They can't stay at the house because it's dad's and I can't work because Raphael needs me and I need a job to earn money to get a place to live with them. A dilemma if I ever saw one. Right now he’s in a very nice family with two other kids his age, the woman told me, but it’s just not his home, you know? It’s not his family...”

“Well, for now Gabe is safe, right?” Sam tried to point out something positive, to which Lucifer nodded slowly. “Your dad can't hurt him and maybe things with Raphael will get better soon. One problem at a time.”

“If that idiot who calls himself our father would just die, a lot of our problems would be solved.”

“I guess you don't have any other family members around?”

“No, no one. I don't know where the hell Michael is and I don't care, all we got is dad and he's a useless piece of shit,” Lucifer sighed. “I'm sorry, I keep bothering you with all this crap, it must be really annoying.”

“Well, you have to talk to someone and I'm here. I’m glad if I can help somehow, even if it’s only with listening.”

“And you feel obliged to listen because of some dumb coincidence, don't you?”

“Do you really think that?” Sam wondered and gave Lucifer a curious glare. The blond shrugged.

“You don't know me, I don't know you, we're not even friends, even if everyone here thinks that,” Lucifer said, looking at Sam. “The one I am out there, the asshole that scares everybody by just looking at them? That’s a mask I'm wearing to protect my brothers. It stops people from talking to me and from stealing my time and attention, but you still didn't stay away. Why else if not for this dumb soulmate thing? Oh, don't look like that, do you think I didn't feel the same way you did?”

Sam felt his face heat up and looked away to hide his blatantly obvious blushing.

“So, I'm not making this up,” he said and bit his lip. “It’s true.”

“Yes and it's why you're here, why you want to help my brother even if you don't know him at all and why you listen to me rambling. It's not because you want to do it, it's because you have to.”

“I hate to disappoint you, but you're wrong,” Sam said and turned back to face Lucifer with a stern glare. “I'm not a cold-hearted monster, I would help your brother even without this shit going on.”

“But you wouldn't know him if it wasn't because of it, right?”

“No, I…” Sam blushed again, but this time kept his eyes on the other. “I wouldn't. But that doesn't change a thing, I'd still help him if I knew he needed it.”

Lucifer sighed. He looked into his empty cup, shook his head and got up to get himself another. When he came back he still had this very concentrated expression on his face that made Sam feel miserable.

“I'm not saying you wouldn't, don't get me wrong,” Lucifer continued, stirring his coffee. “But it's a fact that this soulmate thing exists and neither of us likes it. I don't have time for this, I can't afford thinking about it or allow it to consume me. My brothers need me, they don’t have anyone else they can count on. If I give into this I will be distracted and can’t be there for them anymore the way I have to anymore. I can see that you try to fight it yourself and you're starting to lose, that’s not good. It won't end well, it just can't. Soulmates or not doesn't matter, I can't afford these kind of things.”

“Do you know why I fight it?” Sam asked and Lucifer shook his head slowly, looking up from his coffee. “My parents were soulmates too and I saw what happens when you let it consume you. Mom got killed and dad just… he just stopped caring. All he does anymore is drink and yell and pass out in random places. I never knew what it's like to have a real family, a place you come home to and where you are loved and can just be happy. I only had my brother and the knowledge that soulmates destroy people. I don't associate them with love and compassion, just with coldness, anger and hate. If they were both still here, maybe things would be different. I’m the little brother in your story, the one that only ever had his big brother… it didn’t help strengthening my faith in soulmates.”

“And you're scared you'll end up like your dad, don't you?” Lucifer assumed, unknowingly hitting very close to home. “You're scared that you'll be unable to go on if something happens to your soulmate; that if they die, you won’t manage to live your life without them anymore.”

“In a way," Sam mumbled ashamed. "But that's not al, not reallyl. I don't know why I shouldn't be able to choose the one I spend my life with alone, you know? It's just not fair, I never asked to get a soulmate, I never asked to be played with like a puppet on strings. I have plans, I don't want my life to depend on someone I don't even know. It’s a selfish reason, I know, but it doesn’t change that I feel this way.”

“You're not as shallow as I thought you were,” Lucifer smirked at the other. “You know what you want, you're stubborn and determined. I like that. Kinda makes you less appalling.”

“T-thanks?” Sam didn't know what to think of this. Lucifer didn't try to flatter him right now, did he?

“I'm glad you want to help Raph, really,” Lucifer continued after nodding. “But I don't want to use you like that. You don’t owe me or him anything because of fate or coincidence, it would be wrong to ask you for it. Just don't do it because you feel like you have to, I guess, that's all I'm saying.”

“I don't do it because I have to, I want to do it,” Sam answered immediately, without hesitation. “Raphael deserves better and so do you and Gabe, soulmates or not. Even if we’d shake hands and never see each other again after this day I'd do it, because it's the right thing to do.”

“I can’t say I’m not relieved to hear that;” Lucifer sighed. “It’s just all too messed up, no matter what I do, it won’t work out. Meeting you was weird and kind of scary, I admit that. I didn’t expect something like this to happen anytime soon, it just wasn’t on my radar.”

“It wasn’t on mine either, in case that helps,” Sam smiled weakly. “I just wanted to study and become a lawyer to finally get away from my dad, you were not part of the plan.”

“Yeah, sorry for that,” Lucifer smirked. “I tried my hardest to throw you off at least, you gotta give me that.”

“Oh, I do,” Sam laughed. “I was so creeped out I whined to my brother about why I had to be punished like that.”

“Thanks.” Lucifer returned the laugh. “I guess he found it highly entertaining.”

“Yeah, he suggested a bullet to the head as the alternative of talking to you. Not really what I wanted either, so I decided to just talk to you.”

“Regret your decision already?”

“Meh,” Sam shrugged, not without a slight grin on his face. “You’re not what I expected, but I guess I could have had it worse.”

“You know,” Lucifer smiled, for the first time not only weakly. “If my brothers wouldn't suffer from it I'd actually consider to drop my thoughts on this whole soulmate topic. You're rather interesting.”

“You mean because I'm a stubborn idiot with daddy issues too?” Sam joked and Lucifer’s smile got a bit wider.

“Something like that, yeah,” Lucifer laughed.

#samifer #sam x lucifer #sam winchester #spn lucifer #soulmate!au #college!au #human!au #multi chapter fic #myfics

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davidcarner · 6 years

Text

The Kiss, Ch 7, The Past

A/N: There was more Buy More in this than I realized. So…I may have cheated a little. I give you The Kiss, Ch 7, The Past

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, and I didn't get kicked out of college….though it took me 10 ¾ years to get my undergrad…

Sarah huffed out a breath and ran her hand through her hair. These past few days had been…well…rough. It had all started with Professor Flemming at Stanford. Chuck was asked to assist on a mission to find him, and he passed on it due to the personal nature of it, with General Stanfield's blessing. Chuck and Sarah were doing what they could to get his mind off of it, but the more he tried not to think about it, the more he did. He had told her he was going to go clean his room, and she offered to help. They began getting rid of the old Stanford stuff when Sarah saw it, his old ID. She told him how cute he looked, and he glanced at it. She was stunned as he flashed on the ID.

After discussing this development with Casey and Stansfield, they tried to pick up Flemming, but he took an arrow to the back. She hadn't realized that type of weapons were popular with hitmen. Stanford had nearly been a disaster, but they got the information the CIA wanted and got out of there with their lives. Chuck and Sarah skipped the football game, and with the cleanup over, she sat on the quad with Chuck, looking over the beauty of it.

"I know I'm supposed to be your emotional baggage handler," he began. She reached over and squeezed his hand. She patted her lap, and he lay across the fountain ledge they were sitting on and put his head in her lap. She brushed at his curls with her fingers and wondered what it would have been like to meet Chuck Bartowski on a college campus; a nerd in all of his glory. "I thought I had moved on."

"Chuck," she said softly. "Just because you move on doesn't mean things don't still hurt. You can lose someone but still remember things and miss them." She looked around the campus. "This it the first time you've been back, and I think you're handling it quite well. I probably would try to find something to punch."

"You do have a bit of a violent streak," he replied. She pulled on a strand of hair. "OW!"

"Sorry, it's my violent streak," she said, as she bent down and kissed his head. "You know what Awesome thinks we're doing right now, right?"

"You still think Ellie is trying to convince him we're taking things slow?" Chuck asked. Sarah giggled. "Wait, did you giggle." She slapped him on the shoulder. "Oh. My. God. I just made Sarah Walker CIA super spy, giggle." Her cellphone rang and she looked at it.

"I need to take this," Sarah said. Chuck nodded and she walked away for a little privacy. He turned to look at the fountain behind him, and noticed something written on the plaque. He leaned over to get a closer look.

"You nearly screwed that one up," Casey said, behind him, or right in front of him. Whichever way he was, he frightened Chuck, making him fall in the fountain. That's how Sarah found him, being pulled out by Casey. Now they were in the car, on their way back to Echo Park. She huffed, looked over at him, and frowned at how he looked absolutely miserable. He had a towel wrapped around him, and because everyone else in the vehicle was hot from the game, the air conditioner was on full blast. He was nearly shivering. She leaned over.

"I want you to stay with me tonight," she whispered. He looked over at her. "You've had a rough day, and I just want to make sure your all right." He swallowed thickly. "Don't worry, Chuck. I'm not going to take advantage of you," she said with a grin. He smiled and faced forward. "Unless you want me to that is," she added as an afterthought. He whipped his head towards her, and she had an innocent look on her face. The grin that covered his face made him look a bit ridiculous, but he didn't care. He turned to his right, where Casey sat. Casey growled, and Chuck looked forward, hoping this ride would end soon.

}o{

He stepped out of the shower, and felt like a new man. Where had she gotten clothes that had fit him, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. They weren't his, and that meant either she had gotten things for him or there was another guy in her life that wore this stuff, but she had told him everything, right? He shook his head. No, no rabbit hole. Bad Chuck! Don't go down the rabbit hole. This was a CIA agent, she probably had a stash of clothes for Casey as well. He pushed the troubling thoughts away and entered the kitchen. Wow, did that smell good. This is the woman who routinely burned corndogs but apparently, she could cook something right!

"Hey," she said softly, with a big smile as she saw him. She looked him up and down, not even hiding the fact she was checking him out. "Good, I thought those would look good on you." Chuck just looked at her. "Since you are supposed to be here sometimes for protection I thought it best you have some clothes and I got an expense account from our boss to purchase you some items." Chuck nodded. Well, that made complete sense. "Chili and grilled cheese sandwiches okay?"

"That sounds amazing," Chuck replied.

"I know it's getting a little cool out there, so I thought since we didn't have any real stadium food, this wasn't too far off," she said, stirring the chili. She pulled up the spoon with some chili on it, and nodded for him to come over. She gave him a taste, and it warmed him, but it wasn't too warm.

"That's delicious," Chuck replied. Sarah grinned.

"Corndogs, eh," she said. "Real food, I can do."

"I hope you didn't go to any trouble for me," he said sincerely. She looked at him and shook her head.

"Chuck, if I did it's because I wanted to," she said. She sighed, took the chili off the heat, took his hand, and led him to the couch. "Okay, let's do this."

"Do what?" Chuck asked. She handed him a disk and nodded to her laptop. He looked at it, and realized it was the file from earlier. "Sarah!"

"Chuck, you need to know," she said. "I've told Stansfield. If you don't know it could affect you."

"If I do it might as well," Chuck replied. Sarah nodded.

"My guess is, knowing you, whatever is on here, you'll make it something bigger in your head if you don't know," she said. "I'm here, and you need to see this." Chuck nodded. She squeezed his hand. "Right here beside you, okay?" Chuck nodded, inserted the disk, and hit play. He watched Bryce and Fleming talk about Chuck, and Bryce come up with the plan to get Chuck expelled. When it was over, she held him.

"He was trying to help," Chuck said softly. "He was trying to protect me. I mean I would have liked to have known and maybe we could have had another plan, but he was trying to protect me."

"Chuck," she said softly, holding him. "It's all right to be mad at him." He looked at her, and shook his head.

"I'm kinda having trouble doing that right now, because I have you in my life," he said. Sarah smiled. She kissed him softly. It started out as something sweet, and caring, but it took on a life of its own, quickly. She pulled away, grinning.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," she said, winking. She stood up, leaving him slack jawed on the couch as she went back to the stove.

"I don't mind," he said, once he got his brain working again.

"Nope," she said, popping the "p". "I wouldn't want to do something you'd regret tomorrow." Chuck stared at her, as he walked over to the kitchen.

"You are seriously getting me back from a few weeks ago, aren't you?" he asked. She grinned.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she said, as innocently as she could. "You have been through an emotional experience and the last thing I need is for you and I to do something that could hurt you emotionally. Plus, I'd be in big trouble with my boss if I broke the Intersect." Chuck grinned at her. She began to ladle out the chili and put a sandwich on a plate for him.

"You are devious," Chuck said. Sarah had an amused smile on her face.

"Let's say I know what you are talking about," she said, smirking. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"Because the real Sarah Walker isn't a cold, robotic, emotionless spy," Chuck replied. "Because she's funny, wicked smart, sassy, and likes to have fun."

"Wouldn't doing what your suggesting be more fun?" she asked. Chuck put down his bowl, walked over to her, and held her face in his hands.

"She also protects me, from physical, or emotional harm," he said softly. He leaned his forehead down to hers. "She makes me her number one priority when she should be making herself the number one priority."

"You make me the number one priority," she replied, just as soft. "I'm just making it even. Tonight is about making sure you're okay. If that means tears, then so be it. If that means bad movies, then so be it. I really hope it means snuggling in bed."

"You are not ready for the Chuck Bartowski sleep snuggle," Chuck said.

"Chuck, I've started revolutions in Jakarta with a fork," Sarah replied. "I faced Ellie one on one. Your sleep snuggle doesn't scare me." Chuck gave her the eyebrow dance and she grinned.

"Woman, when I later tell this story to the future generations, I will tell them how your arrogance led to your downfall," Chuck said, loftily. Sarah raised an eyebrow.

"Did you say when you tell our kids about this?" she asked. Chuck sputtered. She laughed deeply. He knew she had gotten him, and she had barely even tried. They ate dinner, watched movies, and she eventually dragged him to bed. The snuggling was next level, and in the morning when they opened their eyes, trying to figure out where one began and the next ended was nearly impossible.

"Sleep okay, Sarah," he asked. She nodded sleepily.

"Maybe the best sleep I've ever had," she said.

"What do we tell Ellie?" Chuck asked.

"I think we only have one choice left, Chuck," Sarah said.

"What's that, Sarah?" Chuck asked, snuggling against her, as she played with his curls.

"We have to make love," she said nonchalantly.

"That would probably be best for the cover and explain why I'm over here," he said. Sarah shook her head where he couldn't see it and continued to play with his hair. The smirk that covered her face would have been a dead giveaway if he had seen it, but he hadn't.

"Sure, Chuck, for the cover," she said, and continued to play with his hair. Chuck opened his eyes and thought about what she said. His mouth nearly dropped, and his eyes grew wide as he realized what she had said. He had only one thought as he lay there.

Don't. Freak. Out.

A/N: Hoped you liked it, reviews are always welcomed…til next time.

#Chuck #Sarah #Charah #The Kiss #fanfic #fanfiction

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