#And then he yelled (yelled being slightly louder then normal) and I just automatically walked back and cradled him

[xx-sketchy-xx]

It was the cutest dream I’ve ever had.

Wally, except baby size, and he hung out with me all day

andthentheworldsortastartedfallingapartbutthatsok

[deidearly]

Kakashi Relationship Headcanons

Guess who’s back with another relationship headcanon today? And as usual, I had a good time writing this one even got slightly carried away, hehe. Enjoy! XX. 

Well— Hatake Kakashi, huh? Dating him would be such a roller coaster ride, tbh. It’s like, one moment he’s so clingy, fragile, so afraid of losing you— but one moment he’s like, “Just do what you need to do. I don’t really care.” This is due to the fact that he’s got a lot of things in his mind and occasionally struggled to sort out his priorities. 

Anyway, of course you’ve complained about his ‘reading-smut-in-public’ issue, especially when you’re together. You two would come up with an agreement somehow. But to piss you off, he’d pretend like you’re the one who’s obsessed with reading smuts.

You’re browsing for some important books and he playfully yelled, “Y/N! Come here, it’s your favorite book— Icha Icha Tactics! My, I know you’ve had four books, but another one won’t hurt, right? Since you love it that much!” making everyone in the bookstore giggled.

He received “Y/N Signature Punch” that day.

To your surprise, he’s not very secretive about his relationship with you. In fact, you’ve caught him frequently use you as an excuse for him to escape some unwanted occasions.

Let’s say Gai was asking Kakashi to fight him like usual— and he wasn’t having it that day. “Gai, with all respect— I would gladly accept your challenge. But can’t you feel the springtime of romance youth is blooming? I must see Y/N immediately.”

Gai’s tearing up.

Don’t worry, he actually went to your place.

“Yo. Can we hang out? I just told Gai that I would come to your place. Please say ‘yes’ to make me less of a jerk, will you?”

Would totally show up in front of your place at an ungodly hour.

At first it surprised you but now you’re used to it.

You just finished your mission, it went pretty well but you felt there were some wasted chances due to your captain’s miscalculation. It’s nearly 2 AM but you caught yourself wide awake, reviewing back your battle– only to got distracted by a knock on your bedroom’s window. Instead of turning your head in surprise, you already knew who it was. To have a little fun for yourself, you ignored the sound, which was later followed by a second knock. Walking over to the window, you saw a silver-haired man with a mask. Although half of his face was covered, it’s obvious that a smile was apparent. “Yo.” he greeted, but you replied with a sigh. “You could actually knock on the door and I’d let you in through the door. It’s something normal people would do, Kakashi.” you grumbled, opening the window for him to get in. “Ah, spare me the lecture!”

So, reverse psychology works best for Kakashi. Like the Icha Icha Tactics– the more you ignore his behavior, he would actually try not to read his book in public like you told him to. But the more you complain, he’d read it in places where he shouldn’t be reading it at all. This method works in almost every cases.

You’ve been dating for weeks, but you haven’t seen his face.

Yes, when kissing, too.

You’ve had enough of kissing fabric. 

You had planned to make a dinner together at his place. He was preparing the dishes and you’re about to finish your cooking, when he suddenly asked, “Hey, Y/N. Have you ever wondered what would I look like under this mask?” You were dying to know actually. So, now you’re stuck with two options: (a) be honest about it, (b) pull out another reverse psychological answer— and you chose the latter. “Huh? Not really,” you shrugged, “I don’t really care so it’s not like I’m eager to see it.” and of course, this was a lie. Kakashi went silent for a while. “Anyway, dinner’s re—“ you swore you could’ve dropped the whole pan when you saw an unfamiliar presence. “Kakashi?” you asked hesitantly. The man looked up with a questioning look, “Why are you blushing?” he replied casually.

“ANYONE WITH A DECENT EYESIGHT WOULD BLUSH TOO, YOU STUPID.”

He’s honestly so heavenly to look at.

Sometimes it’s just too overwhelming to see his whole face, you thought.

It’s safe to say that it’s a privilege to be able to see his face. But due to his immense charm, you’d prefer to have him with a mask on.

“Y/N, I feel naked without my mask—“ , “And I honestly feel like I’m being forced to see an illicit nudity, too. Put your mask on, it’s fine honestly.”

He’s been very good at his job for almost his whole life, a fine shinobi. So, he’s rarely exposed to mundane things, moreover a relationship. Thus, making him quite restrained in expressing himself. Plus, he was labelled with some negative titles, saying how cold-blooded he was and he just decided to live with it. This, obviously, requires a lot of patience.

But he’s determined to change, the first step he took was letting you in— into his life.

It started rocky, though.

He’d say something like how he didn’t care much about you and sadly, he really didn’t.

But as the time went by he realized how your presence has been the one that helped him through it. How you’ve always been there to comfort him, by listening to him, giving him a lot of supports, or simply by reminding him that he’s not completely alone.

And when that moment came, he’s sworn to protect you with all his might.

He had a lot of nightmares, he still does, unfortunately. But when you’re around, your presence eases him up a little.

When you’re not around, however, he’d rather spend all night unhealthily tiring himself until he fall asleep.

His personal favorite would be curling up next to you with his hand around your waist while hiding his face near the crook of your neck as he’s giving you some soft neck kisses.

Again, NECK KISSES.

He had a hard time trying to open up himself fully to you and this applies to romantic gestures, I believe. He surely would take his time to explore you, what you like, and what he likes.

Would shower you with kisses, all over your face without missing a spot. He greatly admires every inches of yourself. 

Body worship, oof.

Lowkey (semi highkey) protective.

Lowkey (semi highkey) a show-off.

Would straight up jump to save you if it’s necessary.

And since he’s a show-off, he lowkey loves PDA— but the soft ones, of course. You two would always get spotted together. He would casually sling his arm around your shoulder or lazily has his hand wrapped around your waist.

Favorite time to spend with you is training together. No matter how many times you’ve told him to “fight with an intent to win�� he simply refuses— saying how, he’s “far too powerful” for you.

But deep down he just doesn’t want to hurt you…

Chatting in the middle of a training

“Tsunade-sama hasn’t assigned me any missions lately *throws kunai*” , “Maybe if you threw your kunai accurately, she will. *dodge kunai*” , “Kakashi, shut your pretty mouth up. *throws MORE kunai aggressively*”

When you turned him down while he was showing off his new tricks, though, it weirdly turned him on.

He loves someone powerful, with a right amount of cocky.

Doesn’t talk big. He’s a man of action— his action speaks louder than words!

Doesn’t spoil you that much, though. Because it’s actually him who needs to be spoiled.

Really loves it when you trace your fingers all over his skin— it’s intimately soft, he claimed.

LOVES YOUR SCENT. Has it memorized probably.

He’d prefer someone independent. Someone who could actually take care of themselves instead of relying on him completely. 

Anyone too childish would remind him of Team 7, tbh.

Speaking of Team 7, they would probably be the one to get introduced to you.

Naruto was so shocked to find out that his sensei was capable to develop a romantic feeling towards someone. But he had his doubt— do you really know Kakashi? He started to bombard you with questions to test your knowledge.

“So, do you know what’s Kakashi Sensei’s favorite—“ , “I’ve seen his face. Multiple times.” , “YOU WHAT?”

Complained and sulked about it, “Kakashi Sensei, we’ve trained together for years. How could you?!”

Sakura was confused.

“How? I know he’s probably very handsome under that mask but come on, Y/N, reading smut in public? That’s an absolute no.”

On the contrary, Sasuke was thrilled, internally.

“Yeah. Finally. Old man has someone to annoy besides us. About time.”

He has a pretty bad behavior, too. Unlike Gaara, who’d put an emotionless facade when he’s only in the Kazekage mode, Kakashi would treat you just how he feels like doing it that day. 

Let’s be real, he has so many bottled up feelings inside his heart so it’s not a surprise that someday, somehow, a random painful emotion just hit him— hard, and he shut himself out.

The hospital is the place you immediately visit right after Kakashi’s arrival after a mission because you know he’d be there— reading his book with a few bruises here and there. But this time was a bit different. When he’s hospitalized, he would whine about you not being able to stay more than an hour— but right now you’re puzzled, since he’s been completely silent and avoiding you, answering your questions with a mere shrugs.

Tsunade told you that the mission went pretty well, thanks to Kakashi for eliminating all the enemies on the field, singlehandedly. You automatically knew that it must brought up his past traumas. “Kakashi, it’s not your fault.” you decided to speak, earning a glance from Kakashi, but that’s it. “It’s a mission and you protected all of your comrades!”

“I killed them, Y/N. I didn’t have to, but I did.” he said, with his eyes still glued elsewhere. “Every time I look at my hands, I feel dirty. It reminded me of that—“, “Kakashi, look at me.”

You moved closer to his bed, reaching out your hand and traced your fingers softly on his face. His cheeks were cold, and you could clearly see how he was slightly trembling with teary eyes. “Kakashi, if you didn’t do it— it could’ve been your own comrades. Now they’re safe and sound, thanks to you.”, you paused as he slowly began to move his sight to you. “And if I could meet you way sooner, I would remind you every day that it’s never your fault— it’s never been. You’re a good person, Kakashi. I, and all of us, are forever thankful for the things you’ve done.” you whispered, now wiping a few tears that fell down to his cheeks. A weak smile started to bloom, “I’m forever thankful for you as well, Y/N.”

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (4)

warnings: mentions of Roman's tragic backstory, health concerns, chronic fatigue mentions, but really mostly fluff

-

“Roman!” A hushed whisper-yell came from halfway across the cave.

Roman looked up from where he was carefully taking apart and cleaning out his communicator, feeling a stab of exhaustion upon seeing Patton crouched next to their resident baby Human. They’d just spent what felt like half a suncycle entertaining the kid, who seemed to wake up with more energy than all three of them combined.

Virgil was in fact the source behind the crumbs of mud and dirt that had worked their way into the cracks of his communicator: Logan was currently at the ship working inventory, and the kid had insisted on checking up on him as often as he remembered that the Ulgorii wasn’t with them, which was often.

Still, they’d managed to tucker him out eventually, and he’d fallen asleep in their presence for the third time ever, which felt like some kind of accomplishment in itself.

An accomplishment that they were about to undo if Patton didn’t stop making a ruckus. Roman drew his hands apart slowly, signing ‘quiet’ at his friend as he cast one last look at the partially assembled communicator and then padded over.

“What is it?” he signed, since whispering was both rough on his throat and not always guaranteed to come out as low volume as he’d like.

Patton took a moment to gesture wildly at the Human, who was slumped over on his side. Roman felt a sudden stab of fear, and leaned over to check his breathing.

To his relief, Virgil was simply sleeping, no injuries or illness visible in him. He turned a frustrated stare onto Patton. If the Ampen had called him over here and scared the scales off of him just to have another fit about how cute the Human was, he was turning right around and walking to the nearest river to dunk his head under and scream.

Before he could say as much, Patton finally found his words. “Roman, he’s purring!”

Roman jerked back slightly in surprise. “He’s what?”

“Purring!” Patton looked up at him, antennae fluttering back and forth rapidly like he couldn’t contain his confused alarm. “He’s never done this before! Do you think…,”

Roman moved closer, ears pricking forward attentively. Sure enough, there was a low little buzz coming from the Human. He couldn’t help but notice the purr’s odd tone, the weakness of it, the way it stuttered and paused and occasionally seemed to falter entirely.

“It’s not right,” he muttered to himself, placing the pads of his hand on the Human’s torso and feeling the faint buzz.

Patton whistled in worried query, glancing between them both. “Is he hurt?”

“He’s Human, Pat, I don’t know if—,” Roman froze midway through lifting his hand away; Virgil was making a short, high noise, almost like a whine. His little face had crinkled up in sleep, the way Human distress looked, and his purr had turned to hitching breaths.

Roman glanced at his broken communicator and swore under his breath, feelings strong enough to make Patton fluff up with secondhand panic.

“I’ll go find Logan!” he said, twisting and scampering out of the cave, quick enough that his skittered footsteps had vanished by the time Roman’s wordless sound of protest made it out of him. Roman had longer legs, and Patton was better with the kid, so why had things turned out like this?!

He looked back down at Virgil, who had begun to unconsciously curl inward, leaving his back exposed. The motion hardly made sense; according to the body scan Logan had coaxed the kid through, the center of all his nerves met there, with only a thin layer of skin and muscle surrounding it.

He had no scales or rough hide or even fluffy plumage to protect his back, but he still curled up with it facing out, as though defending his squishy underside like a Crav’n.

The thought made something in him twist, and his scales went slicked back as another whimper tore through the tiny Human. He glanced at the cave opening: There was no sign of the others’ return. It would probably be a while yet.

Regardless, Roman couldn’t wait around and watch a kit cry any longer. He carefully lifted the Human up into the curl of one arm, crooning lowly at him. Virgil settled slightly, but the tiny, haphazard purr had yet to start back up, and the thought was enough to make him feel nauseous with worry.

He reached back and only hesitated a fraction before unhooking his plate armor, pulling it free and setting it away for the first time in the kit’s presence. Despite the sounds of metal, Virgil didn’t wake, head slumped against a shoulder and gangly limbs pulled in tight.

Still, no purr. Not even that sickly little stutter.

If Virgil had been a Crav’n, a true pup, he would have spent each night cuddled up with his family, falling asleep to their low rumbles and quickly developing his own. It was an automatic reflex, a vital part of deep sleep, a vibration that kept their bodies in good condition.

There were ways it could go wrong. If a pup was abandoned, they’d have problems developing their purr alone. If a pup felt... unsafe enough, they’d stop purring entirely, quiet even in the deepest sleep. When it was a choice between being healthy and not being hunted, even the smallest pups knew which to choose.

Even after rescue, it could be a struggle to regain the reflex, especially without close family. It had taken Roman years to manage, and he could still remember how much better he’d felt when he’d woken up after a full night of low, purring sleep. The sense of relief that came with realizing the ache in his bones didn’t have to be permanent.

Roman wavered, looking down at Virgil. The kid was Human. There was no guarantee this was even what he needed.

But if he did need it, the way Roman had needed it so long ago…

He pressed a thumbpad to the little crinkle in the Human’s brow, smoothing it out, and then sat down with a little grumble of acceptance. He shifted to lean back, his tail keeping him balanced as he settled Virgil’s little curled up form atop his chest.

It had been a while since he had purred while conscious. Parents got plenty of practice, of course, but once a kit was old enough, everyone would greet them with their own rumble, let them know they were safe. It was the best way for older kids to keep practicing their purrs while awake, too.

He hadn’t practiced in a long time, but looking down at the kit, he found his own deep, consistent purr started up with barely a hitch.

It took a few moments, but Virgil cuddled closer, seeming to lose a little of that fearful tension. Roman carefully adjusted him as he got floppier, and frowned at the little sharp bits of bone he could feel under the skin. Patton was right; the kid needed to eat more.

Embarrassingly, his purr got louder, as though he could heal months’ worth of living off a scavenger diet through pure force of will. He should tone it down. He wasn’t a brand new parent looking after their first pup. He didn’t even know if this would help at all.

…

Well, it couldn’t hurt to keep trying, though, could it?

—

When Patton scrambled into the cave ahead of him and then stopped short, Logan feared the worst.

He’d always known that this venture could end in disaster, from the moment they’d realized they were dealing with a Human. Roman had been worried about aggression or violence, the classic fears when it came to Deathworlders and the expected response considering the Cravon’s past.

Logan had been more worried about the situation itself. The black market trafficking industry had led to an abhorrent number of cases with rescued feral children. Very few of them had been successfully socialized, and though Virgil was older and seemed to be improving with them, his worry about the child had never quite gone away.

“Is he…,” Logan felt his throat buzz with some sort of wordless grief, and Patton turned to look at him with wide eyes.

He chirped a negative as quietly as possible, and Logan felt some of the weight on him fall away. Reaching out, Patton curled his little fingers around Logan’s wrist, tapping an apology against his chitlin.

“They’re okay,” he whispered, and then pulled him forward excitedly. “I was just surprised, really surprised— look!”

Once his eyes had adjusted to the slight change in lighting, Logan could see Roman, who was laying on his back up against the wall of the cave, his face lax with sleep and a low rhythmic rumble emanating from his chest. This in itself wasn’t entirely unusual; Roman needed a lot of sleep, and he often took naps here and there.

No, the unusual element was the Human that currently had his cheek squished up against Roman’s neck, sprawled out in the most relaxed position he’d ever seen from the pupa. Roman’s chest plate had been set aside entirely.

“They’re cuddling,” Logan said, bewildered.

“They’re cuddling!” Patton squealed, ecstatic.

He clapped his hands over his mouth, but going by the way Roman’s purr shifted to a growl, the damage was done. Roman’s eyes slit open, and without a moment’s pause his tail curled in front of him defensively, his scales pricking up to make a wall of sharp points between them and Virgil.

The Cravon looked entirely ready to disembowel whoever had dared to try and disrupt the kid’s sleep.

“Roman,” Logan called dryly, “it’s us.”

He ran through his identifying ‘friend-safe’ clicks to cement the statement, but Roman was already settling his scales back down and averting his gaze.

“Sorry,” he forced out, ears flattened back with embarrassment as his growl settled back into that low purr Logan normally only heard while they were settling down to sleep. “Didn’t mean to—,”

“It’s quite alright,” Logan interrupted, unable to completely conceal the amusement he felt. Roman had yet to shift in any way that would jostle Virgil. “Though this is a touching scene, I was under the impression that something was wrong.”

Patton piped up to answer his non-question, though his antennae had yet to stop their excited swaying. “We found out Virgil purrs!”

As if on cue, a haphazard little buzz started up, a rough, faltering pattern that was barely audible. Roman lowered his own purr’s volume, though it seemed to make his ears twitch with reluctance.

They all went quiet to listen to the undersized sound for a moment, the Human still blissfully unaware of all the attention.

“It’s too weak by far,” Roman said, his Common a little more accented through the purr. He was looking at the Human in his arms with blatant worry, a far cry from his original reluctance to interact. “I didn’t know a purr could be this weak.”

“That’s because it’s not a purr,” Logan said, trying to keep any hint of fondness from his voice. His shipmates turned to look at him with wildly varying expressions.

“I’ve seen this phenomenon before,” he continued. “I used the medscanner to check Virgil over, because I had also originally assumed it was a purr, and if it was…,” he faltered.

He’d been just as alarmed as the two of them now were, hearing it. If it had been an internal maintenance process like a Crav’n purr, it would have been even quieter than Roman’s when they’d first started travelling together. He and Patton had witnessed firsthand the difference in Roman’s mood and health once he’d gotten through those rough nights.

Next to him, Roman’s ears were tucked completely flat, as though he knew exactly what Logan was remembering. Logan didn’t understand why Roman was so embarrassed by moments of weakness-- was often frustrated by his friend’s reticence, even-- but now wasn’t the time to address it.

“I was simply concerned about the possibility,” Logan finally settled on, “but after investigating his scan thoroughly, I found it was simply the result of soft tissue vibrations from a partially blocked airway.”

Patton blinked up at him. “What does that mean here?”

“It means I-- we freaked out for no reason,” Roman grumped, carefully pushing himself up as his purr ground to a stuttering halt.

Logan held out a stilling hand. “Not necessarily.”

“So, it is a bad thing?” Patton asked, drooping.

“Not at the moment, however,” Logan cast a meaningful look at Roman, “I have no control to work off of, but I do believe Virgil’s general skeletal and muscular health is in worse shape than they should be. He may not have the capability to self-maintain like you, Roman, but that doesn’t mean he gains no benefits from this. The opposite, really.”

Roman slumped back down immediately, eyes wide. “It’s helping?”

“Yes,” Logan confirmed. “I was planning to bring the topic up with you, actually, once you were more comfortable around him.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Patton chirped delightedly, darting forwards to bump his head against Roman’s chin. “You really stepped up when he needed you, Roman.”

“Of course I did, who do you think I am?” Roman shot back confidently. Everyone politely pretended not to notice the flustered twitching of his tail. Patton peeked over Roman’s shoulder, crooning slightly at the sight of Virgil.

“Cuddle pile!” he cheered softly, using Roman’s arm as a helpful bar to climb up onto him. Roman shifted obligingly, shifting his horns into range for easy handholds when Patton inevitably slipped.

As soon as Patton was settled, feathers puffed out for maximum soft padding, the two of them turned to look at Logan with matching pleading expressions, as though choreographed. Logan clicked with faux reluctance even as he stepped closer.

“Oh, very well,” he conceded, and was pulled into the haphazard pile posthaste.

He mentally tabled the rest of inventory for later, knowing quite well that nothing was going to  get done for as long as the impromptu session lasted.

Still, with his friends beside him and Roman’s pleased purr rumbling through him, he couldn't seem to find anything to complain about.

[staynoonaz9290]

Attention

**Sorry this took me so long - school has been kicking my butt - but I hope you like this!!**

Where the new season of Fortnite just came out, Hyunjae can't stop playing, and Maddie just wants his attention...

Group: The Boyz

Pairing: Hyunjae/Fem! Reader (Third Person-Maddie)

Rating: Teen/Mature

Warnings: Slightly Sexual/Smutty/Suggestive Content, Nightdress, Kissing, Sensual Touching, Language

Word Count: 1,660

Main Masterlist | The Boyz Masterlist

COMPLETE

Maddie rinsed the last of her conditioner out of her hair before shutting off the water, sighing when she could hear the echoes of her boyfriend’s video games carrying into the bathroom.

The new season of Fortnite had come out last week, and to say Hyunjae was obsessed would be an understatement.

Maddie understood of course- the new season was pretty cool- and the first couple days he played, she had played with him, the two of them laughing and enjoying their time together.

But it had been seven days now, and Hyunjae was still playing.

And Maddie kind of missed him.

Sighing, she grabbed the towel from the hook, drying her hair before wrapping the fabric around herself, stepping in front of the mirror.

Maddie knew this always happened when a new video game came out; her boyfriend was a bit of a nerd and- most of the time- she absolutely loved it.

Still, they’d barely talked- barely touched- and Maddie didn’t want to be annoying but she also just…

Wanted his attention.

But instead of whining or complaining- which she hated to do and also knew would never work on Hyunjae anyway- Maddie had a plan.

Smiling to herself, she glanced over at the pale pink, silky nightdress she had hanging on the bathroom door. She’d only worn it a couple of times- Maddie normally saved it for special occasions- but every time she did, Hyunjae seemed to like it.

A lot.

Quickly, she towel-dried her body, running a brush through her hair and scrunching the dark auburn strands a little before pulling the nightdress from the hanger. The fabric was soft and smooth as it slipped over her head, and she adjusted it on her body, checking her reflection.

The silk hugged her curves in all the right ways, a dip in the front for a little bit of cleavage, and the end of it stopped just at her mid-thigh.

She bit her lip, feeling sexy, smiling one more time at her own reflection before opening the door to the bathroom.

“Go, go, go-”

Hyunjae’s voice was louder than usual as she could hear explosions coming from the TV in the living room, followed by three gunshots.

“Ah! That was so close.”

Maddie giggled to herself, making her way into the room, Hyunjae not looking up at first, controller in hand, eyes trained on the screen. He had his lime green headset on, and now that she was in the room, she could hear Eric yelling through the speaker.

“Crap, I ran out of ammo- Oh wait no I found some, we’re good, we’re good-”

Hyunjae chuckled under his breath.

“Ju, where are you?” he asked, clicking harshly on a couple buttons. “Did you leave?”

“I’m looking for a car,” Juyeon’s response was much softer, barely audible really, but Maddie caught it as she made her way closer to the couch. “I think that’ll be best.”

“You can’t leave your team!” Eric cried. “Come back, someone’s after us-”

“No, he’s good, we need the c-”

But Hyunjae cut off, Maddie deliberately walking right in front of the TV, pressing her lips together around a coy smile as she looked at him, the man looking right back at her.

It was the first time he’d noticed she’d come into the room- noticed what she was wearing- his eyes widening slightly as they flickered up and down her body. There was another explosion on the TV, but he was still looking at her, a slow, playful smile spreading across his face.

“Jae, what are you doing?”

Hyunjae completely ignored Eric, hitting the mute button on his mic as Maddie walked closer.

“Is this for me?”

He was smirking- always a little full of himself- and even though it was for him, she rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath.

“No,” she answered, feigning annoyance. “Maybe I just think it’s comfy.”

But then Maddie sat right next to him, her leg pressed gently against his own, making sure the fabric slipped just slightly up her thigh, Hyunjae’s eyes darting to the exposed skin-

“JAE!”

Eric’s panicked voice was loud through the headset, and Hyunjae jumped, turning back to the screen.

“Yo, we need you dude!”

“I don’t know what happened,” Juyeon’s frustrated voice was much easier to hear now that Maddie was right beside the headset. “I couldn’t eat the mushroom in time, they came up behind me-”

“Shit.”

Hyunjae scrambled with his controller, hitting the unmute button.

“I’m getting a car, just stay low, try to save Juyeon-”

“He can’t, I’m on the other side, I was trying to get us a Jeep-”

“I can still go get him if you want me to,” Eric insisted. “I can do it-”

“No, no, we’ll get him in a minute-”

Maddie watched for a moment, biding her time, not too worried about Hyunjae’s attention being back on the game.

She knew what she needed to do.

“Okay…”

She watched as Hyunjae’s Iron Man avatar jumped into a bright red mustang, the engine revving before he was speeding along the grass.

“Eric, get in the car-”

“What car?”

“The red one!”

She saw Eric’s avatar climbing into Hyunjae’s car, Maddie turning to look at her boyfriend, his bottom lip lodged between his teeth in concentration.

Grinning to herself, she slid her hand up his thigh, going slow, Hyunjae not looking at her at first.

“Are we going back for Juyeon?” Eric asked.

“Nah, he sucks-” Hyunjae replied, making the younger laugh.

“Hey!” Juyeon sounded annoyed, but she could hear him chuckling slightly. “I was doing pretty great when you disappeared.”

“Yeah, for two seconds-”

Maddie’s hand slid further, past his mid-thigh, nails digging into the skin through the fabric of his shorts, and finally Hyunjae turned to look at her, a small smile pulling on his lips again.

But she looked away, leaning closer and pressing a kiss to his jawline-

There was another explosion coming from the TV, but she was already moving her lips to his neck, caressing the skin there gently. Her fingers were still scratching slightly into his thigh as Hyunjae sucked in a breath, her eyes darting up to see him pressing his lips together to keep from making a sound through the headset. Maddie smiled to herself, kissing a little higher up his neck.

She knew how sensitive Hyunjae was.

A few more gunshots came from the speakers before Eric was yelling again.

“JAE! You drove us right to them!”

Maddie was smirking against his skin before craning her neck, reaching up to leave a lingering kiss on his ear.

Hyunjae barely held in his gasp, his breath hitching in his throat before she saw him hastily hitting the mute button on his headset.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice a little strained, slipping slightly on the couch.

“What do you mean?” she asked playfully, nibbling slightly on the cartilage as she spoke directly into his ear.

Hyunjae moaned, his fingers slackening on his game controller, tipping his head to the side.

“Crap! I can’t- My gun-”

Eric sounded flustered.

“Ah SHIT!”

Maddie turned around just as Hyunjae was lifting his head a little, both of them staring at the screen just as Eric’s avatar was disintegrating.

You placed #23

The white words flashed across the top of the screen, and they could hear Eric’s cry of disappointment.

“Twenty three?” he said loudly. “That’s our lowest score!”

“I guess I’m not the only one bad at this game,” Juyeon joked, making Maddie laugh a little.

“Hyunjae!” Eric called. “You made us lose the match- wh-”

But Maddie had reached up, hitting the power button on the headset and taking it gently from Hyunjae’s head. He turned to her, smiling cheekily again as she set the device to the side, climbing into his lap.

As soon as she’d adjusted, Maddie leaned forward, kissing him deeply, his hands automatically sliding up her back as he brought her closer.

They turned their heads, lips in perfect rhythm, the smooth softness of them taking the breath from Maddie’s lungs as she exhaled. His hands were perfect as they slid up the silk of her nightdress, fingers splaying out to caress her skin.

“What’s this for?” he muttered, playful albeit a little breathless.

She started kissing down his jaw again, Hyunjae’s head falling back automatically with a small sigh.

“I just wanted you to pay attention to me,” she replied, speaking against the skin just below his ear. “You’ve been playing this game all week.”

His fingers were stuttering against her back, and she moved up, nipping at his ear lobe as he hissed, a small smile pulling on her lips.

“We haven’t hung out,” she continued, letting her breath ghost across the area, feeling him shift a little beneath her. “And I miss you-”

Hyunjae laughed breathily, his hands moving to her sides, tracing the curve of them as his palms slid slowly upwards.

“Okay, okay-”

He was trying to sound annoyed, but it wasn’t working, his mischievous grin as he pulled back to look at her giving him away.

“Well, maybe you should’ve just worn this from the beginning.”

His eyes were wandering up and down her body, Maddie’s legs still straddling his hips.

She giggled, smacking him lightly on the arm, and he laughed, too, eyes meeting hers before he was grabbing her hips, pulling her closer.

“So…”

His voice was quiet and a little lower as he leaned forward.

“What do you wanna do?”

Maddie smiled as he raised an eyebrow at her, reaching for the remote beside him on the couch.

“Well, first thing’s first-”

She turned it clumsily in her hand, hitting the power button, the TV turning off, shrouding them in the semi-darkness of the living room.

“Much better…”

And then she was leaning forward, wanting to kiss him again, and Hyunjae was pulling her closer, chuckling softly against her lips.

[tiredb0igivemesugars]

Peter is never wrong

Summary: Tony Stark's party goes very wrong

📝Words📝: 2.2k

⚠️Warnings⚠️: blood, injury, near death, angst

💙Pairing💙: Peter Parker x g!n reader (Tony Stark x Steve Rogers mentioned)

📎Note📎: No proofread

Peter desperately tried to get the bowtie right, had been trying for almost ten minutes. ”Peter, are you ready to leave soon?” Your voice asked from behind the door. ”In a minute!” Peter yelled back. He tied the bow messily in frustration and walked out. Stark and his charity balls. Peter had a bad feeling about today if he was completely honest. However, he couldn’t pinpoint why.

You stood by the door, waiting for Peter. You knew he was struggling to tie the damn bowtie but wouldn’t ask you for help. Always insisting on being fine on his own.

He opened the door shortly after, the bowtie all wrong.

You chuckled as you stepped in front of him to fix the monstrosity of a knot he had mustered up. ”You’re supposed to fold the longer end over the shorter.” You said as you untied it. Leaving one end longer than the other. ”Pinch and through the hole.” You muttered to yourself as you tied the piece of clothing properly for your boyfriend.

Peter smiled as he wrapped his arms around you. ”Where would I be without you?” He asked as he placed a kiss on your lips. A chaste kiss, a sweet thank you.

”You’d use those clip in bows and drink instant coffee.”

”Haha. Very funny.” Peter said, trying to sound mad as he let you go.

You gave a little laugh as you let Peter separate himself from you. ”Shall we go?”

The car pulled up in front of the venue. Cameras flashing and reporters swarming around. Peter’s hand crept up to hold yours. You squeezed his hand as you walked through the sea of people.

”Peter! Y/n! So glad you could join us!” Tony called out once the two of you had made it inside. ”He doesn’t screw around with parties, does he?” You stated more than asked. Peter only hummed. ”Are you alright?” You asked him as you kept walking in Tony’s direction, he was already immersed in another conversation but Peter still led the two of you that way. ”I have a bad feeling about tonight. Something bad is going to happen.” Peter stated calmly, trying not to draw attention to himself.

Peter was usually never wrong about these things. ”Is this your anxiety talking or the spider sense?” You asked, wary. ”Latter.”

Peter hadn’t let go of your hand the entire time the two of you had been there, which was almost two hours. He didn’t tell Tony about his feeling either, which confused you. ”If you tell him he’ll call the whole thing off. It’ll be dealt with.” You had tried to reason. ”But I don’t actually know what’s going to happen. It might only happen if I tell him.”

”You two seem gloomy.” Tony suddenly said from behind the two of you. This was your chance. ”Peter here thinks that-”

”The ball is very nicely organised.” He finished for you, giving you the side-eye. ”Peter, you shouldn’t talk over your date.” Tony scolded the boy. Peter slowly felt your gaze leaving him, focusing on something entirely other. ”I didn’t see Mister Rogers anywhere, is he coming?” Peter asked, making conversation. ”He better,” Tony sighed. ”We got into a bit of an argument. He said that the party was unnecessary and was going to mess with his routine.”

”God you two sound like an old married couple,” Peter chuckled lightly. ”Don’t spoilt it,” Tony said as he jokingly hit Peter. You tuned out the rest of the conversation as your attention latched onto a waiter who was glancing around nervously before pouring a substance into some of the champagne glasses he was balancing on a tray. A wave of nausea rolled over you. This was bad. So, so incredibly bad.

He lifted his gaze suddenly, eyes meeting with yours. He instantly set the tray down and began walking away. ”I’ll go to the bathroom really quick.” You said suddenly, eyes not leaving the guy at any point. You could hear Peter protest, but you couldn’t stop.

You tried your best to slide between the sea of people, trying not to lose the guy from your sight. You followed him to the back end of the building, the space reserved for staff. The fluorescent lights lit up a long staircase towards the roof. You could hear the guy’s quick steps a floor above. And without a second thought, you followed him.

You followed the footsteps to the fifth floor. An empty office space with the same fluorescent lights. The man you had followed all the way up there was nowhere to be seen. ”I saw you come in here. Come out, wherever you are!” You called out without a second thought.

”Y/n It’s not very wise to yell like that into an empty room.” A man’s voice suddenly said. The voice was followed by calm and sharp footsteps, revealing a man standing there in a suit. ”Oh fucking hell. I was led here, wasn’t I?” You said to yourself. You should've known. You silently cursed yourself and your stupidity.

”That you were indeed.” The man said, walking around in lazy circles in front of you, arms crossed behind his back. Suddenly a force pulled you down on your knees, causing the rock hard floor to be almost rammed against your knees. You groaned in pain, feeling something break. ”Tell me y/n, how does one get Tony Stark’s attention these days.” The man asked, not even glancing in your direction. The force kept you on your knees, keeping you from moving.

”I think an email would do the trick. Have you tried that?” You asked, trying to mask your fear. You had been pulled down by pure force and the man hadn't even touched you. What else could he do? ”Y/n I can smell your fear.”

”You’re lucky that I had an actual reason to bring you in, otherwise I would hurt you very, very bad.” The man sounded almost angry, although it could just be that the tone was just a normal one for him. ”What’s the reason you have for kidnapping me?” You asked, your fear lessening somehow.

”You’re Peter Parker’s weakness. And Peter Parker is Tony Stark’s weakness. So say that something awful were to happen to you, Tony would automatically be affected and thus, vulnerable.” The man explained his master plan, a shitty one you might add. ”Rule number one of being a criminal, never explain your in motion plan to someone who is alive and well capable of stopping the plan.” You retorted back.

”Who said you were going to be alive?” The man asked, letting you digest his words before ripping a hole in your abdomen with the force he had used to make sure you’d stay in place. Burning, blinding pain invaded your body. You screamed in agony. Could Peter hear you if you screamed loud enough?

The crimson colour from inside of you expanded out, forming a pool under you as you screamed loudly. The warm substance coated your lower stomach and legs, trailing down those parts to reach the floor. Your hands trembled as you tried to cover the wound. You didn’t want to bleed out there. Your hands came in contact with the big laceration, you gasped in surprise at the size of the wound. In the shape of a crescent moon on your lower stomach, from hipbone to hipbone. Blood rushed to your head, at least that’s what it felt like. A hum invaded your head. Causing most of the other sounds around you to fade. The burn from your lower stomach spread through your entire body, travelling by your blood vessels.

”Now, my plan isn’t to bleed you out here-”

”Well what is it then? I suggest that you get on with it quick because you’re running out of time.” Tony’s voice spoke up from behind you, by the door you had come through before.

You sighed in relief, eyes closing momentarily, yet, finding much comfort in that darkness. The sounds around you became even more muffled, you could feel yourself swaying from side to side before you felt something wet against your cheek. Possibly your own blood. There was a huge crash, causing your eyes to fly open just for a minute to see Peter looking down at you. His lips moved, his voice was muffled. You were able to make out your name but nothing much after that. The side of your cheek wasn't wet anymore, your head laid against something soft. Possibly Peter's lap.

His rough hands felt nice against your cheeks, you felt yourself be pulled into a deep slumber. Finding comfort in his mere presence. You could feel yourself mumble something before your mind did the final loop, sending you into a deep slumber.

”Hey there, you gave us all a pretty big scare there,” Peter’s voice said, resonating in your head somehow being louder than the buzzing in your head. You groaned slightly, trying to open your eyes. There was a steady beeping on your right and the sounds of living people talking and walking around on your left. Finally, your eyes were able to focus, Tony sat on your right, asleep on a rather uncomfortable chair.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to adjust. ”What happened?” You were able to finally rasp out. "Shh, it doesn't matter right now. What matters is that you're alright," he said. His voice sounded somehow, weighed, with a sadness of some kind. His eyes were red and swollen, his nose still runny. "Have you been crying?" You rasped out, feeling more concerned for Peter's mental wellbeing than your own physical wellbeing.

He gave an awkward chuckle before answering, "I was just scared, that's all." He said. He stood slightly over you, holding onto your hand while reaching over your head to press the call button for a nurse. You sighed. "I'm sorry for worrying you," you said, feeling like it was something appropriate to say at a moment like this.

Peter remained silent. He sat back down on his chair, still holding onto your hand.

You heard some nurses chatter in the corridor, talking about another patient. The small TV in a far corner in your room spoke, a game show re-run. Peter let out little huffs in his sleep, his nose just barely scrunched up. The machine hooked up to you let out steady beeps, in synch with your heartbeat. The big round clock on the wall was able to inform you that it was twenty past four in the morning.

Soon, a nurse came in. They asked you the usual questions like, how you were feeling and what you remembered. After that, they did some simple tests to see how you were functioning. "I'll come back in a few hours with a doctor. We'll then do more in-detail tests," the nurse explained before leaving the room.

Tony had awoken during the nurse's visit and left the room to call Steve. He was now coming back. "Steve and the others are on their way," Tony said as he came back into the room. "It's four in the morning, let them sleep," you told Tony, feeling like you were burdening them. "I don't think that the others have slept very well in the waiting room. I hear the chairs are pretty uncomfortable," Tony explained. You just huffed.

Peter remained silent, his eyes glossed over, not really focusing on anything. "Peter, talk to me," you suddenly said. This was a moment when you felt like you needed him. Needed to talk to him. Say things like "I'm sorry for scaring you" and "I'll be more careful in the future". Hold his hands and listen to him as his voice would waver, explaining how he had felt in that moment. Tell him how sorry you were for causing him so much heartbreak. And for him to just remain silent, not saying anything, making minimal contact with you, it was just so baffling.

He sighed, bringing your hand to his face and caressing it with your hand. You could feel the dampness of his cheeks. He had been crying. "I just, I watched you. I watched your eyes turn over. I felt how, momentarily, your heart stopped beating." He almost whispered. The heart monitor you were hooked onto increased in its beeping, informing everyone in the room of how your pulse was quickening. "I, I tried to stop the bleeding. I put so much web on the wound. I tried to stop it with my bare hands. There's still some of your blood under my nails." He showed you the dark red that laid under his nails and the small space between the nail and the cuticle.

He looked up from your hand, the one he had been clutching onto like his life depended on it, and met your eyes. Tears streamed down his face, snot covering his upper lip as the lower one quivered. "I've, I've seen death. I've had front row seats, reserved for a family but I sat alone. I've lived through it, but that, I wasn't ready for that." You remained silent, seeing how distraught he was. How much he needed to get this off of his chest. "I haven't given much thought to God, not in many years— I thought I didn't believe in him— but when you laid there, blood gushing out of your body, I prayed. I prayed for the first time in years."

Despite the many protests your body gave, you leaned forward. You gently grabbed Peter's face and kissed him. "I love you," you whispered against his lips before indulging in them again. He tasted salty, most likely due to the tears, but he still felt like Peter. His lips moved the way they always had. His face felt like it always had. This was Peter, your Peter. The man who you loved and who loved you.

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Prime Time,Bitch!

Tagged: @spnquotebingo the keep reading function is messing up for me

Sam said he was locked up tight in the dungeon. He was never locked in with her. She was locked in with him. The hunter becomes the hunted with no where to run.

Warning: Mature Language,Blood,Gore,Character Death?

-"Thoughts"- (they are red for those who can see)"Quotes" 'Reading'

"I'll be right back. This demon side is fighting to stay in control. I just need a few more pints of blood." Sam said as he slung a bag on his shoulder. "Yeah I got it get some food to!" Y/n said with a smile as she walked him to the impala. The roar of the engine rumbled as she waved him off going back inside what she didn't know was Dean knew that Sam just left and a chilling smile grew on his face.

Y/n popped popcorn as she sat in her room a horror movies playing as she got comfortable. A scream came from the movie drowning out the sound of the dungeon door opening up. The youngest Winchester laughed as a girl tripped over nothing her and Dean always make fun of them they had no real reason to hit the ground so they should get right up. This made her slightly sad. Was Sam going to fix Dean or was it already to late for him? Shaking off the thought the killer was about to crush the women's skull when the power cut out,but the red emergency lights didn't cut on yet which was weird. "God damnit." She grumbled getting up and grabbed a flashlight and went to the breaker to fix it walking right past the open door. Flipping the switch the normal lights don't turn on only the red ones and she turned around to get her phone to call Sam when she dropped her flashlight. Y/n gazed at the empty chair in the center of a devils trap she took off running to her room,but paused he knew she would run there for her phone and Dean or the demon he's become won't let her get help. She changed course to Sam's panic room to hide.

"Oh N/n where are you? I miss my little sister don't you miss me?" A metal sound of something dragging on the floor made her tense. Thinking of all possible things it could be of how she's going to die.–'It could be a bat,but we don't have any metal ones in the bunker. Maybe a sledgehammer,but that would have ment he when into the garage and the power going out would have locked everything.''– Her eyes widen as she released what it was he must have been carrying around she was sharpening it with the rest of the blades earlier that day."Have you figured it out yet? I know how you think when a horror movie is playing you see ever scenario before the movie can catch up. No wonder Sammy says you cheat at Clue!" Dean laughed as he seemed to wander to each room. The sound of wood splitting as he yelled "Here's Johnny!!!" It seemed so much worse that Dean was the evil this time a normal demon would know her so personally this seemed almost cruel him quoting films they watched together. "What to clichés? I admit the axe is old school."

The panic room the size of a cubbie it was so small,but just big enough I could calm down and think properly. Looking up another version of myself sat in front of me...my conscience. I could speak,but she could she's in my head after all. –"You can't run. There's nowhere to go doors locked down the moment the lights went."– I saw a illusion of myself running through the halls just to hit a corner and get a axe to the chest before it faded away. –"Can't go for your phone or your laptop he probably broke it the moment he noticed you weren't in your room."– I saw myself creep into my room just to see a shattered phone and my laptop with a cracked screen buffering to open instant messenger to text Sam. The laptop was slammed shut on my fingers causing some to break and get sliced by the glass looking up the sick grin of the Demon caught my eye before the axe ended that path. –"The burner. The one in your dresser Dean doesn't know about it so neither would the demon.Get it and get back here as quickly as possible. "– It was settled call for help. Listening for any foot steps I creep out of the hiding space a faint whistle going off down one of the many halls way from my room. Sneaking down the hallway staying low I get to my room where the door is torn to shreds as I open my drawer and fish out the phone. Going back down the hallway I get back to Sam's room and immediately call him.

"This call has been forwarded to a automatic voice message at the tone ples–" Hanging up I call again and again with no answer. At this point help was no longer a option. The whistling seemed to get closer and I rushed to the panic room until I paused. –"A enclosed space in a closet. There's not much space to move around if he finds you there your done for."– I back away slightly. –"Behind the door offers a easy place to hide and get out,but if he does the same to Sammy's door he did to yours it's not much of a hiding spot then."– A axe goes through the door creating a massive hole and Dean peaks inside and sees the white of you tank top in your (f/n) flannel. The door was whole again as I looked around the sound of metal getting louder running out of time. –"Under the bed allows you to see him without him seeing you,but like the panic cubbie not a lot of wiggle room if he hears you your done."– It was too late running to the metal door of the panic room she slams it shut not to loud to sound like she's trying to hide it,but just loud enough for the demon to register it. Sealing it shut I slip under the bed and wait for the time to get out and hopefully find a weapon.

Boots walked into the room turning to the closed closet. "Oh N/n!~ There's only so many places to hide in such a small room. Did you really think I wouldn't hear that heavy ass door close?" He chuckled darkly as he opened the closet and went to the small door. Dean tried turning the wheel to unsealed it,but it seemed to dawn on him that it could only be opened from the inside. With a huff anger he began pulling the brick of the wall started to bend outwards and crack. I was glad I wasn't in there. Going to slip out from under the bed while he's distracted the burner phone rang its annoying ringtone. Not even bothering to stop it I rush to get out faster,but a firm grip caught my ankle and dragged me out. Turning onto my back Dean stood their his apple green eyes staring at me. "Found you." He lifted up the axe having let go of my ankle lifting up my feet I put as much strength as possible into kicking his stomach. The demon was knocked back into the closest hitting the ground. Unfortunately axe still in hand. Stanfing up I ran leaving the phone behind. -"Sam took Baby so the trunk armory is out of the question. The garage has so pretty handy tools too bad that it was sealed along with the front and only entrance. Kitchen has knifes none that can hurt him,but just enough to slow him down. Library demon blade was in there last you checked,but Sam could have grabbed and put it on a high shelf."– Too many options and the kitchen was closer so that was the first stop grabbing a knife I held it tightly as a stalked slowly to the Library to see if there were any supernatural weapons.

The library was dark and the red lighting barely lit up the large room. "Would you like to play a game?" Dean mocked in a deep voice as he went around the bunker his voice echoing no real pinpointing where he is. I can't call Sam and prying to Cas hasn't worked meaning Dean made angel banishing symbols in most of the rooms. Y/n was getting desprit the bunkers massive size most of it was unexplored by them so being lost in a underground maze b wasn't the best option. "Are you scared yet Y/n? Well be afraid. Be very afraid. I'm what goes bump in the night sweetheart! Never thought the Winchester’s downfall will be by the hands of the oldest. What a twist!!! Right?" Dean yelled turning to the table I saw the supplies I cleaned with,but the weapons were gone and a note was left on in their place. 'Hey Y/n I put the weapons back into the trunk for tomorrow's hunt so you wouldn't have to...you're welcome and your blade was just sitting on the table so I put it up. ~Love Sam' I wanted to cry oh chuck nothing can save me in this buncker Bobby was sending us gallons of holy water next week because we were low...all rooms were demon proof,but he seemed to be a exception now,so no calling Crowley either.

Turning around the library doors open and I duck behind one of the many shelves. "Welcome to my nightmare!~" He said with a chuckle that bounced from every wall. Dean knocked down books and destroyed anything in his way while he looked around. Crawling on the ground I go to leave when the sound of something whooshing in the arm made me drop like a bag of rocks. The axe meet the shelf and I gazed at the red illuminated face of my brother eyes now black and demented. Laughter bubbled out of his chest as he mumbled. "Carful dear wouldn't want to lose you head." Yanking the axe free many books tumbled down. Taking the kitchen knife in hand I slash his calf and go for his thigh when the knife is flung out of my hands. "You little bitch!!!" He hissed now holding the knife and showing it into my stomach. A silent cry came from my lips bot to give him the satisfaction of my screams just yet. I look up at him and just past his head where I couldn't normally reach was the handle of my blade peeking over the shelf.

I begin to giggle and it turns into fits of laughter. Black eyes flicker back to confused green ones. "What's so funny?" I catch my breath as I lean up slightly. "You picked the wrong place to corner me. Wanna play?" Grabbing his knee and pulling it buckled under him causing Dean to hit the shelf letting the blade fall freely. Reaching out I catch it "Let’s play." Stabbing upward into his stomach the same place the knife was lodged in my own stomach. He howled in pain as I removed the blade and ran keeping pressure on the knife wound as I turned corners just to get away. -'He played with your head play with his. The intercomes...a good distraction can lead him away and let you get the jump.'- I hurry to the intercoms not before making a pit stop.

Demon!Dean POV

I growl at the wound on my body the little shit stabbed me. This makes killing her so much easier then she can be just like me. Grabbing the axe I stomp through the bunker. "What a excellent day for an exorcism." Her voice sounded through the speakers now I know were she is. "Would you like that?" I said aloud with a grin. "Intensely." Y/n said trying to make her voice horse before the clipping sound of the intercom stopping rang out before being replaced with a creepy melody that always scared her. "There was a crooked man. He walked a crooked mile he had a crooked six pence upon a crooked stile." It went on with childish like tones until it got further in the song it was so god damn loud though. "The crooked man stepped forth and... rang the crooked bell and thus his crooked soul... spiraled into a crooked hell.Murdered his crooked family... and laughed a crooked laugh." My ear drums almost burst at the loud deep voiced scream ears still ringing I didn't register the blade being driving into my sholder flinging her back I turn around as she's running down the narrow hallway taking the axe with both hands throw it straight and the axe hit her almost dead center in the spine. The audio cut off after the song and I stood over her. Y/n had her face turned coughing up blood I definitely hit her lung. "Thanks for catching it for me." I smile as I heavily put my foot on the small of her back pulling the axe out. She screamed out it was mildly gurgle from the blood. Turning her over my little sisters eyes shined with unshed tears. "Oh,no tears,please. It's a waste of good suffering." I said with a small whipping the few that slipped by she whimpered Sam's name and I grew frustrated. Lifting the axe again. "Looks like you couldn't make the cut,N/n. Just another extra that stuck around for too long." Dropping the axe down it went into her chest the creaking of her collar bone and sternum were whispers compared to the blood curdling cry. They soon died out as her skin paled and her breathing stopped she'llmake a strong demon. "See you soon." Taking the axe out I begin to drag her body.

The lights in the bunker cut back on meaning Sammy was home. Having placed her perfectly in the chair I was tied to I wait until he finds her standing next to the door. "Y/n?! Y/n!?" He yelled most likely having gone to her room rushing the the dungeon his heavy foot steps abruptly stopped. "Oh God! Y/n come on!" The moose of a man rushed in the room cradling her face in his hand. "You were too late, Sammy. She called your name before she went,but I guess five missed calls wasn't enough for you to rush home. N/n fought for so long waiting it out just for you to never show." I said closing the door as he turned to me standing infront of her corpse. "You didn't make things easy on her. I mean you took all the weapons and put the only thing to defend herself on the top shelf...like keeping the cookie jar way from a child. In some way you killed her before I could." Lifting the demon blade that had his own blood on it. I stalked towards him cornering him in the room. "Sure you won't give me a good chase,but woah she wore me out." Holding the blade to his throat when a gun shot fired and a sting hit my arm causing me to drop the knife.

Y/n stood colt in her left hand the axe keeping her up in her left. "Demons always so sure that what's dead is dead and can't be undead. Ever heard of a pulse jackass. " so distracted that she was alive Sam was able to restrain and she held a handful of bags of blood. "Let's get this over with." She bagan to inject me and I felt myself become mire human and I started thrashing hard. With the last vile in hand she looked into my eyes. "You should be dead." I hissed as she pushed the needle in. "Sorry. I'm into survival."

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

A/n This is the last one in round one of the Spnquotebingo and I ended with a dozen quotes.

Title: "Prime Time,Bitch!" Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

"Here's Johnny!" -The shinning

"Would you like to play a game?" - Saw

"...be afraid. Be very afraid"- The fly

"Welcome to my nightmare."- Nightmare on Elm Street

"..lose your head." Alice in Wonderland

"Wanna play?"- Child's Play

"What a excellent day for an exorcism...Would you like that?....Intensely." - The Exorcist

"There was a crooked man. He walked a crooked mile he had a crooked six pence upon a crooked stile." It went on with childish like tones until it got further in the song it was so god damn loud though. "The crooked man stepped forth and... rang the crooked bell and thus his crooked soul... spiraled into a crooked hell.Murdered his crooked family... and laughed a crooked laugh." - The Conjuring 2

"Oh,no tears,please. It's a waste of good suffering." - Hellraiser

"See you soon." - Coraline

"She called your name before she went,but I guess..." -Hadestown

"...what's dead is dead and can not me undead." -Jacksepticeye (DBD playthrough)

"I'm into survival." ‐Nightmare on Elm Street

[siriuslystarbucks]

Every ‘I Love You’

Written for Starbuck Ship Week run by @prongsfoot-discord Day 1: Time Loops. I’ve never done a time loop fic before lol

Pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black

Tags: AU: No Voldemort, Love Confessions, Time Loop, Angst, Confusion, First Kiss, Communication, Getting Together

Summary: One night, James tells Sirius that he loves him. He does it again the next night. And the next and the next, and Sirius doesn't know how long he's been living this day, but he would like it to stop, thanks, because he still doesn't know what to reply. 

Read below or on AO3

James woke him up that morning. Not by shaking him awake-- which was something he'd done plenty of times because he claimed that having to be the only one up was a horrible fate-- but by whistling. He was in an overly cheerful mood this morning, and he was whistling tunelessly as he walked about the room, getting ready.

Sirius pulled his curtains open but didn't otherwise try to rouse himself. He was perfectly comfortable where he was.

"Sod off with that!" Moony yelled, throwing a pillow at James.

It hit him harmlessly in the side. James paused whistling for long enough to pick it up, then he started whistling again-- louder, this time, to prove a point about how untouchable his happiness was-- and he walked over to Moony's bed, then started whacking his legs with the pillow. "You've got to get up if you want breakfast," he said, practically singing the words.

Sirius grinned, too tired to join in on the teasing but enjoying it all the same.

James looked over at him, as if sensing that he was watching, and his smile widened. He winked, whacked Moony one more time, then dropped it at the side of his bed to continue getting ready.

"Ready for another thrilling day of classes?" James asked him as he got closer.

"As thrilling as they ever are," Sirius responded around a yawn. Not one of his best replies, but James was smiling at him like it was award-winning.

Classes were as boring as advertised, and that night, they were down in the common room, tucked away on a couch together, doing their homework.

"I love you," James said. He looked at Sirius with hearts in his eyes. He was so sincere that it made Sirius's chest hurt.

"I-" Merlin, what was he going to say? "I'm sorry," he said by rote. It's what he said to the people that confessed their feelings to him. Half the time he didn't even recognise them, so it wasn't hard to let them down easy. Even for the people he knew, it wasn't that difficult to tell them that he was sorry, but he didn't feel the same. Looking at James was completely different. James meant something to him; James meant the world to him, and as soon as he said the word 'sorry', James looked crushed.

"Oh. I- no I'm the one that's sorry. I thought... I mean, I thought that you were- well, I was wrong. Doesn't matter." He turned back to his book. His shoulders hunched up towards his shoulders as his face burned red.

Normally, when he was upset, Sirius would try to make him feel better. Since he was the cause this time, he thought it would be for the best that he didn't try to comfort him.

After a minute of awkward silence, James muttered, "I'm calling it an early night."

"Goodnight," Sirius mumbled, just as quietly.

He shuffled away and up the stairs to the dormitory, looking defeated.

Sirius felt like scum. He well and truly did. He didn't know what he could've said to James that would've been better, but he did feel bad about it. By the time he went up to the dormitory-- after giving it plenty of time-- James's curtains were drawn, and he seemed to be asleep.

The next morning, Sirius knew that the air would be fragile. He pulled his own curtains open first thing, but he took plenty of time getting ready. He didn't want for James to think that he'd rushed to get away from seeing him or summat.

When James woke, he seemed... cheerful. He was even whistling tunelessly to himself, just like he'd done yesterday. Sirius only remembered that he'd been whistling yesterday because it had annoyed Moony so much that he'd-

"Sod off with that!" Moony yelled, throwing a pillow at him.

It hit James harmlessly in the side. Just like it had yesterday. James paused whistling for long enough to pick it up, then he started whistling again as he walked over to Moony's bed and started whacking his legs with the pillow. "You've got to get up if you want breakfast," he sang.

This was just like yesterday. Sirius frowned as a feeling of dread crawled over him. It was like yesterday had never happened.

James looked over to Sirius with a grin, but it faded after a few seconds.

Okay, so he'd just been being paranoid. James remembered what happened yesterday. He'd just been trying to pretend like everything was still normal. Sirius sent him a weak smile.

"Are you alright?" James asked, walking over in concern.

"Yeah. I just didn't want to make things awkward for you. After last night."

The concern was replaced with confusion. "What do you mean, last night?"

"When we... y'know, talked. In the common room."

"We weren't in the common room last night. We went for a run in the Forbidden Forest, remember? Went straight up to bed when we got back." James wasn't messing with him. His expression was one hundred percent serious. He wasn't joking around or playing a weird prank. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," Sirius said automatically. What he 'remembered' from yesterday must've been a dream. A horrendously vivid dream, but a dream all the same. "A little tired, I guess."

...But if it had been a dream, then why had Prongs and Moony's interaction been the exact same this morning?

*

"I love you," James said.

"Why?" Sirius asked. He was curious. He honestly couldn't wrap his head around it. The first time James said it, he'd been blindsided. It still didn't sit right with him. There was a twist in his stomach when James said it. Three little words, and he was taken entirely out of himself. James said 'I love you' and Sirius had no confidence, not for himself, not for James, and absolutely none for their relationship. He was second guessing all of it, and without James being able to remember it when a new day dawned, he couldn't move past it. He'd gotten used to James listening and giving him advice.

James smiled faintly at him when he asked. "It's not any one thing."

"No, but... why me? Surely there's someone else out there that you'd rather be with."

"I can't imagine being in love with someone else," James said, which made the knot in Sirius's stomach squeeze tighter. "Isn't it what everyone wants? To be with their best mate?"

"I don't think so," Sirius said honestly. It sounded... very James, but not like anyone else. He couldn't imagine Moony or Wormtail wanting to date their best friend.

*

“I love you,” James said, looking over at Sirius earnestly. It was the first time he’d ever said it. At least, as far James was concerned, that was true.

Sirius had been living this day over and over. Each Tuesday night, no matter what he did in the day, James would confess to him. He’d done this at least ten times already, and he still didn’t know what to say in response.

James’s expression fell a little at his extended silence. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What would you like for me to say?” He wasn't careful with his tone. It didn't have any of the fondness that he felt for James. He said it flatly, like he didn't care about James in the slightest.

Sometimes, James got sad. Right now, he got angry. His expression hardened. "Fine. Be like that. You could've told me flat out that you didn't feel the same." He slammed his textbook shut and grabbed his bag. It looked like he was juggling all his items as he stormed out of the library.

Sirius sighed, putting his elbow on the table and leaning into his hand. He'd chosen the library this time with the specific hope that James wouldn't want to say anything when they were so far away from Gryffindor Tower and didn't have an easy way out.

He went to bed that night, keeping his head down and feeling guilty.

He knew that in the morning, James would be whistling like nothing happened, and he'd have to sit through the same exact lectures again. They'd been boring the first time he heard them. One repetition had been annoying, but he was convinced he was going to claw his eyes out before he managed to get out of this.

*

"It's a time loop," Sirius said. He didn't like going to Professor Dumbledore, but he was desperate. He'd skivved classes and spent all day in the library. He'd spent several days in the library. Over a week, possibly; it's not like he was keeping count, but it occurred to him too late that maybe he should've been trying to keep track. He'd been through every book about time travel, time loops, and time related curses. There was nothing useful. He had a better chance of getting answers by talking to Dumbledore than he did sneaking out and trying to find more books elsewhere.

"Curious," Dumbledore said. His brow had furrowed slightly, and he was looking at Sirius intently instead of with his usual casualness. "I know that you dabble in a certain amount of- ahem, experimental and high level magicks. Is there anything you've done that might have triggered this? The smallest footnote in an old ritual can have side effects."

Sirius shook his head without needing to think about it. After reliving the day for the third time, he had considered that option. Unfortunately, things had been quiet on the Marauders side of things. They hadn't done anything in the week-- or even month-- leading up to this stupid Tuesday that they hadn't done a dozen times before. "I'm sure that it's nothing I've done. I haven't done anything new leading up to this for weeks."

"It's... possible that someone else is reliving this day, and you were caught up in it."

He shook his head again. "Everyone else is the same. They only change if I do." He'd checked once, just to be sure. Of course, he couldn't remember everything he'd done the first day, but he'd tried his best, and it had been enough for him to be convinced that he was the only one that knew they were doing this more than once.

"I imagine you'll have to analyze your day then, Mister Black."

Sirius grimaced. He knew that it was his last name, but he hated being called that.

"Whatever the answer is, I think it'll come from your own actions. Not a spell or ritual."

"But this is a magical problem."

"Humans possess a kind of magic all unto themselves. Something that has nothing to do with wands or potions. We have the power to change, at will and deliberately."

Sirius blinked. He hadn't wanted to have a counseling session, he'd wanted a fix to this.

"I believe that when you find the change you need, the loop will be broken."

"Seriously? That's it?" Sirius asked, not bothering to be nice. It's nice like the Headmaster would remember this in the morning, after all. "That's your great advice? Change myself?"

"A simple answer, but not an easy one," he said, apparently unbothered.

*

"I love you," James said.

"So what? You're a sodding teenager. You'll fall out of love in a month."

James looked at him like he didn't recognise him. "Are you joking right now? Because if you are, it's not funny."

"And if I'm not?" Sirius asked, looking at him challengingly.

James didn't answer for a moment. He just looked at Sirius as sadness creeped into his features. "I don't know what I did to make you care so little about me."

"I-" Sirius startled, taken aback. "Of course I care."

"You're not acting like it. I don't want for you to lie. I'm not asking for you to claim that you return my feelings when you don't, but I expect for you to act like my friend, to act like the person I fell in love with." James paused, considering as a thought occurred to him. "Are you feeling alright? You've been acting off all day. I thought you already suspected how I felt, so I thought it would be best to come out with it, but I was wrong, wasn't I?"

It was kind. As kind as James always was to him, even when he didn't deserve it. If Sirius thought that he would wake up tomorrow to a new day instead of the same day, yet again, then he would latch onto this. He would tell James that he was sorry, but yes, that's what it was; he wasn't feeling well and he'd been on edge all day.

But this wasn't anything new, and they would do some horrid exchange tomorrow like nothing had changed-- because as far as James was concerned, there was absolutely nothing that had.

"I don't know what you want me to say, James," Sirius said, exhausted. If James would just tell him what he wanted to hear, then he could do that next time and hopefully it would break the loop. It was, after all, the only big event in this day. "Tell me what you want me to say, and I'll say it."

"I don't know either," James replied, but Sirius could tell it was a lie. He was heartbroken though, and it was Sirius's fault, so he didn't push.

He could work on it the next morning.

*

"Let's play hooky today," Sirius said, one hand on James's arm and trying to smile like he didn't have a care in the world.

James grinned back freely. "Sure."

It was nice to finally have a break from classes, but Sirius finally let himself relax around James again. Ever since that first 'I love you', Sirius had been tied up in knots worrying about it. He didn't want to hurt James's feelings, but by trying to push him away, all he'd done was make himself miserable.

They had fun that day. Sirius pressed a kiss to James's mouth before they tried to sneak back in.

"Sirius," James whispered, when they were still standing so close together they could feel the other's warmth. "If we're doing this-"

"I don't know if we are," Sirius said. He kept his tone gentle, but there was no denying the panic that shot through him. "You're my best mate, but I don't..." He didn't know if he wanted to date James. If he was willing to take the chance.

James swallowed thickly. "Right. You can think about it. I've got time."

James might not know it, but right now, they had nothing but time.

They got caught sneaking back in and got detention for a week for going off the grounds and skipping their classes. It didn't matter. The only one who would remember in the morning, was Sirius.

*

Sirius had done this enough times that he knew the look James got before confessing. Before James had a chance to say it this time, Sirius asked, "Do you ever get scared that you'll ruin something?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like us. Our friendship."

A beat. "I do. Sometimes. I think any risk would be worth it, in the end."

"Even if you don't get the answer you want?"

James frowned. "What're you getting at?"

Sirius didn't look up at him. He looked at his own hands, twirling a quill between his fingers absently. "I know how you feel about me."

Silence.

He still didn't look up at him. He wasn't sure he wanted to see his reaction. "And it terrifies me. The way you look at me sometimes... it's like I could bugger up everything under the sun and you'd still love me."

"That would be true even if we were mates and that's where my feelings stopped," James said quietly.

"And that doesn't scare you?"

"You feel the same for me."

That was- sod it, that was the truth. Sirius was beyond confused for how he felt for James ever since this time loop had started, but he cared about him. He loved him. He would do anything and everything for James if only he knew how. "I do," he admitted. "And it's terrifying."

"What about it scares you?"

"I don't know. I've never felt like this for anyone else. I feel like it could destroy both of us, and there would be nothing left."

"Rather bold of you to assume that we'd let that happen," James said. "What makes you think either of us would be willing to lose our friendship?"

"Fair enough," Sirius said, finally looking up so he could give James a smile.

James looked subdued, but he smiled back. 'How much you love me scares me' wasn't the response he'd been hoping for. Sirius knew that, even if he didn't know what James had actually wanted. Probably 'I love you too', but despite the countless times he'd confessed, Sirius had never been able to get him to admit that that's what he wanted to hear.

It's part of what confused him, and a big part of why it terrified him. To anyone else, what Sirius said just now would've been crushing. James looked a little sad and disappointed, but not heartbroken. 

He wished that he could keep this time. No recrimination, no hard feelings. James knew that Sirius knew how he felt, and he also knew that Sirius was beyond confused about his own feelings.

He sighed and went back to copying down the passage from the textbook. It wouldn't last till morning, but it gave him something to do while he kept James company.

Sirius woke up the next day, wondering how the hell he was supposed to get through this. He didn't know how to look James in the eye like everything was fine when he was so utterly lost.

He pushed his curtains open and rolled to his feet. He was so out of it that he didn't notice things were different until he ran into James in the loo. He frowned.

This wasn't right.

James was supposed to be happily whistling to himself and annoying Remus, not standing morosely in front of the mirror as he tiredly brushed his teeth. "Morning," James mumbled.

Sirius blinked.

"You okay?"

"Are you? I thought you'd be in a better mood."

James's brow creased. "Did we have a different conversation last night than the one I remember?"

Last night. Oh Merlin, he remembered. "What day is it?"

"Wednesday? You know, the day that comes after Tuesday?"

The relief Sirius felt was instantaneous. He didn't think about it, just wrapped his arms around James and rested his head against his shoulder. "Thank Merlin."

"Are you still asleep or summat?"

"More like I just woke up from a nightmare," Sirius muttered. A beat. "I don't know how you even know what love is. How do you know liking me a friend was different than fancying me?"

"I don't know," James said, which wasn't the most encouraging thing Sirius had ever heard. "I thought about it, and it seemed like it fit. Don't look at me like I have all the answers, Padfoot. I'm guessing most of the time, too."

"You always seemed so sure," Sirius said without really thinking about it. James had told him that he loved him a hundred different times, and not once had Sirius thought that he wasn't one hundred percent certain about it.

"What?"

Sirius shook his head.

That night, he asked James if he could kiss him instead of going for it without warning, and James said yes.

"So," James said, clearing his throat, "do I get an Acceptable?"

"Don't be stupid. You get an Outstanding."

"Even though you're not sure how you feel?" James asked.

"I know how I feel, I just... don't know if I'd call it in love or not. It might be more like halfway between in love and just loving you. How should I know?"

James only chuckled. "Well, whatever it is, it's good enough for me. If you're wanting to give this a try, that is."

"I am." He'd spent so many days trying to avoid James's confession, and all he'd needed to do was think about how he felt, not worry about what James wanted to hear him say. 

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Gunmen at school force Peter to act;

Fortunately, it’s after school hours, and the only ones in the library are the Academic Decathlon Team.

Unfortunately, the gunmen are targeting them specifically, due to the kidnap and ransom opportunities involved in this particular group of kids. One of whom is the son of a prominent lawyer, and another who was recently publicly outed as Tony Stark’s personal intern.

SO

It’s after hours, and the acadec team have a meeting in the library. The school stays open for student access until 6pm, and it was approaching that time as they begin packing up after their session.

Only a few members of the team were there (Peter, Ned, MJ, Flash, Betty, and Abe), as well as Mr Harrington, who was there more in a supervisory capacity (though he was slouched on a beanbag having a well deserved nap. He was happy to just let them get on with it).

Flash had been leaving Peter alone in recent weeks. The glaring had definitely gotten worse, but the mocking had stopped almost entirely.

A mix up with timings and press and being in the wrong place at the wrong time (that damned Parker Luck), meant that Peter had accidentally been outed as an intern working directly under Tony Stark. Peter himself hadn’t really been hiding it around his friends, but Tony had been trying to keep all knowledge of him out of the media. The last thing he wanted was to put Peter or his Aunt in a spotlight, elevating them in to a much higher “kidnap risk” category.

Unfortunately they had failed at that (though Tony made sure that Aunt May’s apartment was filled with hidden panic buttons, and that she had his lawyers on call in case of harassment).

The six of them were packing away their things. Flash was grumbling at all the wrong answers he had gotten, and Abe was joking about leaving Mr Harrington asleep to see if he would still be there in the morning. Going by the bags under his eyes, it wouldn’t be surprising.

Suddenly, Peter feels a shiver run up his neck. He frowns and straightens his back, alert, and Ned gives him a worried look as the others bustle around them, not noticing their abrupt withdrawal from the conversation.

His hearing picks up boots moving in from the other side of the school. Slower than a walking pace... someone was trying to sneak. Peter’s head snaps to the door and he feels a gentle tug on his sleeve as Ned whispers:

“Dude, what is it? You’ve got that look. Is something about to happen?”

The footsteps are getting closer and Peter hushes Ned quietly, before doing so again louder, for the whole group.

Abe speaks up loudly:

“Come on, I was only joking about leaving him asleep-”

MJ interrupts him, quiet but forceful:

“Abe, shut up.”

She looks to Peter expectantly (yes of course she knows about Spiderman) and frowns at his serious expression.

He puts a finger to his lips and gestures for them to stay where they are as he walks slowly towards the door. Flash speaks up, almost yelling:

“What the hell are you doing, Penis?”

Mr Harrington wakes with a start at that and lets out a snort before freezing in place (looking very confused) as Peter whisper-shouts back:

“Shut the hell up! I think someone’s coming.”

Flash raises his eyebrows, and goes to retort, but is interrupted by Betty whispering:

“There are no other clubs on at the moment, no one should be here. It’s probably just a teacher or a security guard or something right?”

Peter shakes his head almost imperceptibly as he continues to make his way to the door.

Mr Harrington stands up slowly, before speaking, once again interrupting Flash who was about to try again:

“I... I’m not sure why I’m whispering, Betty is probably right. Peter, what’s the prob-”

Before Mr Harrington can finish his question, Peter stifles a gasp, just moments before the door is kicked violently in.

Two men in makeshift tactical gear and black ski masks storm into the room, large semi-automatic weapons in their hands. Peter stumbles back, having been close to the door, and the rest of the group let out short screams. Mr Harrington quickly takes a few steps forward, trying to get in front of the group, but he is quickly halted by one of the men:

“STOP! Nobody move, nobody speak, or we start putting bullets through the extras.”

Everyone freezes in place, the students looking terrified, tears slipping down their cheeks. Mr Harrington looking oddly angry, clenching his fists.

Peter flexes his wrists minutely, and is comforted to feel the hidden webshooters against his skin. He would really rather not use them, but he would, if it meant protecting the others.

One of the men steps forward and roughly grabs Peter by the collar, holding him in front of his body. He lets the gun hang on his back by the strap, but pulls out a knife which he presses to Peters neck, pressing hard enough that blood beads slightly where the metal is pushed against his skin.

He speaks gruffly:

“This one is Stark’s kid. Grab Thompson, and the blondie, she looks rich.”

The others panic at that, Mr Harrington taking another step forward and holding his hands out:

“Wait wait wait, you don’t need to take the kids, I’ll go with you, just-”

The second man swings the gun in an arc, the metal hitting Mr Harrington’s head with a resounding thwack as he crumples to the floor, unconscious.

Peter tenses even more at that, becoming angry, and the others let out pained cries at the blood on their teacher’s forehead. Flash tries to take a step back, but is quickly grabbed by the gunman and yanked away from the group.

Peter was desperately trying to think of a way to reach the panic button on his webshooters, but any movement might prompt his guard dog to press the knife deeper, and he didn’t want them spotting the hidden weapons and taking them away before he had a chance to do anything.

The second gunman pushes Flash towards his partner and Peter, and takes a step towards Betty, who is well on her way to a panic attack. MJ and Ned had moved in front of her protectively, but ultimately they could do nothing as they were shoved aside.

At Betty’s cry of pain when her arm was roughly grabbed, Peter made a split second decision: Enough of this shit.

He makes brief eye contact with Ned, before reaching up and grabbing the hand that held the knife. As soon as he had a strong grip, he pushed his feet into the floor, and launched the two of them back as hard as he could.

His enhanced strength meant that the force with which they hit the wall behind them knocked the gunman out instantaneously, and Peter could hear the satisfying cracks as bones were broken. 

Peter’s impact was cushioned by the body behind him, and so he wastes no time, waiting only for the second gunman to turn around before he shoots a web at his gun.

The moment it sticks, he pulls his arm back quickly, and the weapon flies towards him. The gunman is in shock as Peter catches it and, without breaking eye contact, crushes the metal before dropping it to the floor.

The class look on in shock, but it isn’t long before Ned and MJ are grabbing their hands and ushering them out of the way, so that no one gets hurt.

“What the hell?” Comes from Flash, still beside Peter, but MJ quickly yells at him:

“Get over here you idiot, get out of the way!” and he runs to the group huddled around Mr Harrington.

The second gunman snaps himself out of his shock and growls as he takes out a knife and begins to run at Peter:

“You little bastard!”

Peter, sidesteps as the attacker swipes the knife at him, and grabs his outstretched arm, spinning in a circle to throw him at the wall beside his unconscious partner.

He isn’t thrown quite as hard as the first one, and Peter stalks towards him, a scowl on his face as the man tries to shake the daze from his mind.

He dropped the knife on impact, and he looks up just in time to see Peter reach forward, and rip his mask off. It’s no one Peter recognises, just a general thug, but he’s not sure what he was expecting.

The man looks a little more desperate now, it seeming to have registered in his brain that this was not a normal kid.

He tries to throw a punch at Peter’s face, but yelps when Peter catches it without trouble. His yelp is followed by a scream as Peter tightens his hold, crushing the bones in the mans hand as the acadec team watch on in barely concealed horror.

Peter’s enhanced senses pick up a whispered “what the fuck...” but he pays it no mind as he picks the whimpering man up by his collar, and throws him through the table they had all previously been sat at.

The others can’t tear their stares away from Peter as he strides quickly across the room. None of them had ever seen him so furious before, but before MJ or Ned could step in, Peter once again reaches the would-be kidnapper, and pulls him up by the collar with one hand, as he brings the other down to land a punch on his face.

He lets out a self satisfied smirk as the man rolls on his side, weakly spitting out a tooth and a mouthful of blood.

He absentmindedly looks over his shoulder, before throwing an arm out and webbing the still unconscious man to the wall he leant against. Just as a precaution.

Peter looked back down at the quivering mess, holding his broken hand against his chest and looking up at the teen in fear. He snarls as he begins to speak, not even slightly out of breath:

“You come to my school-”

(He aims another, slightly softer punch to the mans abdomen. His whimpers turn loud again.)

“You threaten MY friends-”

(He picks the man up once more, before dropping him harshly onto his knee, and watching as he bounces off, landing a few feet away.)

“And you thought I wasn’t going to put up a fight?-”

(He once again picks the almost limp man up by the collar, and holds him against a wall.)

“Sorry buddy. That’s not how this works. All you’ve done, is piss me off.”

At that, he brings his hand back, forming a fist, and strikes the side of the man’s face. His head rocks to the side violently, and Peter see’s the man’s eyes close. Falling unconscious from the pain (he heard the crack), or the hit to the head, Peter isn’t sure. But he doesn’t care.

He brings his hand back for another punch, only stopping at Ned’s shout:

“Peter no! He’s already passed out dude, drop him!”

Peter hesitates slightly, but doesn’t drop his hand, it’s only at MJ’s desperate yell-

“Peter, you’re gonna kill him!”

-that he steps back, dropping the attacker, and finally taking a deep breath.

He stares down at him, before blinking rapidly, and shaking the daze from his head. He finally presses the panic button on his webshooter (the one that meant emergency, but not immediate-life-or-death-emergency) before he webs him to the wall. He highly doubted he would be waking up any time soon, but just in case.

Peter turns and hurries over to Mr Harrington, not making eye contact with anyone else.

He kneels at his side, checking his pulse and his breathing, before webbing over his backpack and pulling out a mini medkit. He cleans away the blood and checks his pupils before frowning slightly:

“He’ll probably be fine, but he took one hell of a hit. He’ll be out for a while, help is on the way though.”

He still hasn’t looked at the others. He’s well aware of the fact that he just revealed his identity to the group, but more importantly, he knows he let his anger get the better of him. He shouldn’t have focused on the fact that they threatened his friends. He should have just webbed them up and left it at that.

Mr Stark was going to be so mad.

He folds his jacket under Mr Harrington’s head, and stands, only looking up when Betty runs forward and wraps him in a hug. 

It surprises him, and he isn’t quite sure what to do, but he wraps his arms around her in return when she whispers a teary “Thank you” in his ear.

After a few moments, she lets go and pulls back, a grateful look on her face. Peter rubs his neck awkwardly and blushes as he looks at the worried expressions on MJ and Ned’s faces, and the shocked expressions on Abe’s and Flash’s:

“You... you’re Spiderman.” From Flash has Peter grimacing and looking to the window, really hoping Mr Stark would show up soon and help him fix this:

“You won’t tell anyone, right?? I was going to reveal my identity when I turned 18 but that’s still a few months away. Can you guy please please please just-”

“Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess so.-”

He looks back to them with a panicking realisation, as he rushes to continue:

Abe cuts him off, having shaken the surprise, as he replies:

“Dude, of course we won’t tell anyone, you probably just saved our lives. But... the school is full of cameras... and I doubt we could explain away the lack of Spiderman’s presence when the cops show up. Both of them are covered in webs and you crushed that guy’s gun.”

Peter curses under his breath, but before the panic has time to fester, he hears the tell-tale sound of his webshooters beeping, telling him that Mr Stark had just left the tower.

He gasps and runs to grab his phone, almost tripping as he answers the call:

“Hey, Mr Stark! Uh... we’re in the school library.”

The others don’t hear the reply, but they get the basic meaning when Peter rushes to respond:

“No no! We’re fine, I took care of it! Actually, I could do with an ambulance, Mr Harrington took a nasty hit to the head and passed out-”

Peter stops in his tracks, for a few seconds before continuing:

“I took care of it in a Spiderman kinda way, and this school is full of cameras and I-”

He pauses again:

“-No I wasn’t wearing the mask, and I’m with my friends, that’s the problem!”

Peter vaguely hears Flash muttering behind him (”No way is Parker talking to actual Tony Stark.”) but he pays it no mind as he also hears MJ punch him in the arm and tell him the shut up.

He tilts his head before interrupting whatever it was Mr Stark was saying:

“Oh! I can hear you. Let me just open a window, I’ve uh...-”

He looks around the wrecked library a little nervously as he opens the closest window as wide as it would go, before finishing:

“I’ve destroyed enough school property as it is.”

Peter stares out the open window, before cursing under his breath and quickly sidestepping, just in time for the Iron Man suit to come flying into the room.

He hangs up the phone and waits nervously. Flash and Abe stare on in complete shock, Ned sports a wide grin, and MJ, unsurprisingly, is completely unbothered by Tony Stark’s appearance, and is more focussed on making sure Mr Harrington stays alright (well... as alright as he can be whilst unconscious with a bleeding head wound).

Tony finally steps out of the suit, and Peter gulps as the the older man looks around at the mess. His gaze stops on perp number one (who was just about starting to stir) and the streak of blood from where his head had hit the (now dented) wall, and slid down:

“Jesus, kid-”

He looks to perp number two, who is in even worse shape (blood coming from his mouth, face starting to bruise rather badly, hand all bent and broken):

“-you really did a number on these guys.-”

He finally looks at a near hysterical Peter, and takes the few steps towards him, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder:

“-you sure you’re alright?”

Peter is definitely taken aback at that, he was expecting anger or disappointment, not concern. But before he can reply, Flash speaks up, finally seeming to shake himself out of the daze he was in:

“Holy shit! You actually are Spider-”

Before he can finish, Tony whips his head around and fixes him with a glare:

“Hush, kid, the superheroes are talking.” before turning around to a very confused and slightly shocked Peter:

“You... you’re not mad?” Tony just rolls his eyes at that, and takes a step back, putting both hands in his pockets:

“Pete... I do so much worse than this all the time. I gotta say this is... bloodier than your normal crime scenes, but at least you didn’t kill anyone.”

He says it with a shrug, and Peter begins fiddling with the hem of his sweater as he replies, looking to the floor:

“Yeah, but I almost did. I got angry and I only stopped because Ned and MJ yelled at me.”

Tony hums thoughtfully at that, before looking to Ned and MJ (both of whom he’s met briefly before):

“You two want first aid training? Self defence lessons? Might come in useful if you’re gonna be looking after my kid- oh never mind-”

He waves his hand absentmindedly before looking back at a shocked Peter:

“-we’ll have that conversation later. The cops are on the way, and they’re bringing an ambulance for your teacher. How do you want to play this, Pete?”

Peter is evidently shocked at being given control, he sort of figured that Mr Stark would know what to do:

“I uh... I don’t know. Abe pointed out that there are cameras everywhere, and Spiderman was obviously here-”

He gestures at the two perps. He notices the first about to speak, and quickly webs his mouth. He makes an angry noise in the back of his throat, but it quickly turns into a groan as the pain registers:

“-and those three saw me-”

He quickly turns his attention to Flash, Abe, and Betty:

“not that I don’t trust you guys... well... maybe not Flash... but-”

Tony waves a hand at him and he stops talking, shutting his mouth with a snap. Tony thinks for a minute, looking casually around the room, before looking back to Peter:

“Ok, you’re right kid, there’s no real way to explain this away. We’re just gonna have to fast track things-”

He looks to his suit, still stood open on the other side of the room:

“FRIDAY, tell Pepper that Pete’s identity got out, and to call for a press conference at the tower for... say... two hours from now?-”

His gaze returns to Peter, who is relaxing a bit now, obviously grateful that Mr Stark has some sort of plan, and is taking control:

“We’re just gonna have to come out with it Pete. You head back to the tower and plan it with Pepper. I’ll stay here to look after your kiddy friends, and deal with the cops, alright?”

Peter nods, but looks over at MJ, still sat next to Mr Harrington, keeping an eye on him. His gaze flicks up to the others:

“Are you guys ok with me leaving? I... I’ll stay if you want me to.”

Peter doesn’t notice the fond smile on Tony’s face as he says this, too focused on his friends. Betty is the one who speaks first, with a wide smile on her face:

“We’ll be fine Peter, go and do your thing.”

Peter smiles slightly at that, as Ned speaks:

“Yeah dude, go. We’ll see you later alright?”

MJ, looks up quickly, a teasing smile on her face:

“I’m fine with you going as long as you swear to introduce me to Pepper Potts, she is the real superhero.” Flash scoffs at that, but Tony laughs and nods his head:

“MJ, right? You’re more than welcome to come over with Peter this weekend... in fact... I actually think Pepper was looking for a part time assistant, few hours a week sorta thing. Interested?”

Peter and Ned laugh at the visible shock on her face, and her speechlessness (something that they have never seen before, and will likely never see again) as she wordlessly nods.

“Deal.-”

He looks back to Peter, and gestures to the open window:

“Swing over to the tower kid, stick your mask on but don’t bother with the rest of the suit until the conference, there isn’t much point now.”

Peter nods firmly, and grabs his backpack, reaching for his mask and pulling it over his head. He hangs out the window, and looks back to say:

“Cops and the ambulance just pulled up round the front, I can hear them. I’ll see you later.”

He doesn’t wait for a response as he swings round the corner, making his way to the tower as quickly as he can. 

Despite Mr Stark’s assurance, he was still ashamed of what he’d done. He had allowed his anger to control him, and he almost killed someone because he let his personal attachment to the victims cloud his judgement. 

He was meant to be the Friendly Neighbourhood Spiderman, not the Punisher or Daredevil. He didn’t want anyone to be scared of him, not even criminals to be honest. But he trusts Tony and Pepper, he’s sure this won’t get too out of hand, they won’t let it.

He’ll have to do some more training with Cap and Bucky, get better at regulating his strength.

~

Back at the school, Tony was rolling his eyes and trying desperately to ignore Flash, who is managing to somehow be both antagonistic, and an extreme fanboy. It’s his next question that has Tony whipping his head to him, a look of disbelief on his face:

“So is Pen- Parker really your intern??”

“Kid are you... I thought this was a smart school?-”

Ned’s mouth hangs open at that, and Abe, Betty, and MJ laugh:

“-Look, whatever-your-name-is, Spiderman is the internship. Though at this point he spends more time messing around in my lab than he does at his own home so-”

At that point, thankfully, the ambulance crew walks in, and Tony sighs in relief; glad he could now have an excuse to cut off any and all conversation with these kids. God this was going to be a long few days.

~

THE END

Figured I’d branch out and write something for one of the other stupid things I’m obsessed with. I know most of my followers are Merlin accounts so... sorry lads but ;)

Tell me what you think lads. Just like normal, you wanna write it out properly with descriptions and paragraphs and shit, go for it, credit and tag me :)

[maybank-starkey-obx]

SECRETS

Pairing: JJ x Reader x John B

Synopsis: (Y/N) is being abused by her dad at home, and John B finds out and let’s her stay with him. Keeping her secret for her and being the only pogue who knows about the abuse. JJ gets jealous and wonders what is going on between you two... but you would rather not tell anyone.

Warnings: ANGST, abuse, swearing more angst and some fluff!

A/N: This was requested by @maybebanks thanks for the request lovely❤️ ALSO! There might be writing errors :/

The sharp sting spreads across your cheek and you put your hand on it. Your eyes water but you hold in the tears not wanting your dad to see you crying from another one of his blowouts.

“You’re just a fucking disappointment!” He yells at you. He smacks you again and this one makes you fall back and let out a small yelp. “I wish you were never born! You killed your mother and now you’re gonna drive me INSANE!” He exclaims.

“Screw you,” you mumble under your breath.

“What was that!?” He asks.

“Screw you!” You say louder unable to keep your anger in.

“You’re living under my roof! So you respect me!” He yells and kicks you into the stomach and you groan grabbing your stomach.

“You ingrate!” He says. “You make me sick!” He spits at you and you just stay on the floor in pain. “Clean this house up,” he grabs his keys off the counter and his beer in the other hand. He leaves the house and the tears almost automatically spill out of you. You put your hands over your face and cry into them.

You could barely feel the pain, it was mostly the sadness of it all that made you cry. You stand up, your ribs hurting and your cheek still stinging. Your phone rings in your pocket and pick it up to see John B’s name pop up. You clear your throat before you pick it up.

“Hello?” You answer and your voice immediately cracks.

“Hey! You weren’t replying to my texts dude. You coming over to the chateau!? Everyone else is,” he says.

“Oh... right,” you mumble. “Um yeah, I’ll be there,” you nod even though he couldn’t see. You wipe the tears from under your eyes.

“K, cool!” He says. “See you later!?”

“Yeah. Bye,” you mumble and hang up.

You needed to go cover up the bruises on your face before you went. You always hated people's pity, so you never told the pouges about your dad beating you. You already knew how bad JJ’s family life was and you didn’t want anyone to focus on you. The attention was not wanted. And you knew if JJ found out, he’d be furious. You walk upstairs to the bathroom, your cheek was red and your jaw was slightly bruised. You knew you had bruises on your ribs and stomach. You grab your makeup and cover up anything on your face, then change into a long sleeve shirt with a baggy tee over top and some shorts. You ankle was bruised from when you fell, but you could makeup an excuse for that one. When you grab your backpack, you shove some clothes into it. You didn’t have a place to stay? But you’d find one to get away for a couple of days. You couldn’t ask your friends or they’d be suss about it. So you’d need to figure it out yourself.

It was boiling hot outside, but you didn’t have a car or bike, so you had to walk 15 minutes to the Chateau in the heat. You slipped on your sneakers, pulled your backpack over your sore shoulders and left the house, quickly before he came back to get even angrier that you didn’t clean up.

When you get to the chateau you walk around back to the porch and you seemed to be the first one here. You walk into the house.

“John B?” You call out and he walks out of his room, dressed in his normal attire. An open Hawaiian shirt with shorts.

“Hey!” He says. “Anyone else with you?” He asks.

“No,” you shake your head and he nods going into the kitchen and to the fridge.

“Want a beer?” He asks opening the fridge.

“Sure,” you nod putting your backpack onto the couch and pulling your sleeves down. He tosses you a can and you catch it.

“Let’s sit out back,” he walks to the porch and you follow. You guys sit down on the couch out there sipping on your beers.

“So, you good?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well you sounded a bit off, when I called,” he points out.

“Oh! That was just a voice bubble,” you explain and he nods slowly looking at you. You sip your beer nervously.

“Hey... what’s that!?” He points to your face and you give him a confused look.

“What?” You ask.

“On your jaw,” he goes to touch your face and you back away slightly. “It looks like a bruise. What happened!?” He asks. Panic seizes through you, you must’ve missed a spot on your face where there was a bruise.

“Really!? You sure it’s a bruise and not the lighting?” You add oddly and he shakes his head.

“What happened (Y/N)?” He asks.

“Nothing happened,” you mumble. “I fell.”

“Fell on the side of your jaw?” He asks and you nod. “(Y/N), don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!” You exclaim your voice getting higher. “I swear, it’s nothing,” you put your hair in front of your face and he pushes it back.

“Did you get into a fight with soemone?” He asks.

“Me... getting into a fight?” You laugh.

“I’m serious,” he gives you a stern look. “tell me what happened because your lies won’t phase me.”

“I swear it’s nothing John B,” you say your voice now quiet.

“(Y/N),” he says and you shake your head.

“Just leave it, it’s a bruise you guys have them all the time,” you mutter.

“But it’s you...” he drifts. “Please tell me,” he says. “Who did it?”

“No one!” You push.

“I’m fucking serious! Tell me!” He says and you look at him feeling worried about him figuring out. Your heart was beating in your chest fast.

“Can we please not talk about it?” You ask.

“No! Tell me!” He urges and you sigh.

“John B,” you whine and he shrugs. “Look...” you drift. “Please... please don’t tell anyone else,” you say. “Do not tell JJ!”

“I won’t! I promise,” he nods. “We’re best friends. You don’t need to be scared to tell me.”

“Um...” your voice shakes slightly. This would be your first time telling someone about this. It felt weird and scary and embarrassing. “It... it was my dad,” you blurt. “But really... it doesn’t matter. He was drunk.”

“Your dad?” He repeats. “What!? (Y/N), you’ve never told us this,” he says in a low voice and you nod.

“I don’t like to.”

“He does it often?” He asks.

“I guess,” you shrug. “But I’m fine. It doesn’t matter please don’t make it a big deal.”

“(Y/N), this is a big deal,” he tells you. “Are you okay, where else are you bruised?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Stop saying that! Yes it does!” He said. “You can’t keep this a secret and just get abused by him.”

“It’s only when he’s drunk,” you shrug holding back the tears. You were making no eye contact because you get weird telling him.

“Which is what!? all the damn time!?” He states. “Fuck no (Y/N), you’re not going back there,” he tells you. “You can stay with me! I don’t care anything to keep you away from him!”

“John B,” you sigh.

“Don’t, you’re staying here. You should’ve told me earlier!” He says. “How long has this happened!?”

“Since my mom,” You shake my head.

“That’s long!!!” He said surprised. “I’m so sorry!” He gives you a sympathetic look and it makes you cringe.

“Whatever. I’m fine,” you shrug.

“Stop it,” he said.

“Just please... please don’t tell JJ or the other pouges,” I say. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” he nods. “But promise me you’ll stay here.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Don’t... don’t make it a big deal,” you tell him.

“I’m just shocked you didn’t tell us of at least me,” he says. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter. This group has enough to worry about,” you state.

“And you’re just as important to worry about!” He tells you. “I’m serious. You can always come to me (Y/N),” he says.

“Thanks John B,” you mumble. “I’m gonna go cover up this bruise,” you stand up and go into the house. You grab your bag and go to the bathroom. You quickly cover it up and almost yell at yourself for letting soemone find out. How stupid!!

When you walk back out, everyone has shown up and you put on a smile.

“Hey guys!” You chirp and they all turn.

“Hey!” They reply.

“You’re already here,” JJ says and you nod. You go to sit back down. “Hey, hey!” JJ grabs your arm and you look at him. “Kiss,” he adds.

“Right,” you laugh and lean down pecking his lips before you take a seat in your spot next to John B. John B looks at you as if he was talking through his eyes and you nod that you’re okay back.

“So, you guys down to chill here rather than have a kickback!?” Kie asks fixing the bandana in her hair.

“I’m down,” John B says and we all nod in agreement. You kick your feet up onto the cooler in front of you.

“(Y/N), what happened to your ankle!?” Pope asks and you look at your ankle that was forming a big bruise. You almost forgot about it. JJ looks at it and then up to you.

“Oh,” you say. “I actually fell,” you have lie half admit. You did fall, but only because you dad smacked you to the floor. “Funny story actually,” you add. “When I was walking here from home, I tripped on a pretty big rock and rolled my ankle. You guys would’ve laughed,” I laugh running a hand through my hair.

“Looks like it hurts,” JJ says and you shrug.

“It’s not bad,” you rely grabbing the beer that you had and sipping on it again.

“Yeah, (Y/N)’s been such a clutz,” John B adds. “She pretty much tripped on her way into the house.”

You were happy he wasn’t saying anything. You knew John B was a good friend who would never.

“Speaking of clutz. JJ happened to fall into Rafe’s fist,” Kie rolls her eyes and you look at him. He always had a new bruise everyday. Either from the fights he gets into or his dad. It was sad to see but he always brushed it off.

“Ehem! He fell into mine too!” JJ says and Kie rolls her eyes.

“You gotta just ignore that asshole,” I tell him.

“I can’t when he’s clearly obsessed with me,” he replies and I shake my head.

~

“You’re staying here tonight?” JJ asksa and you nod eating the only thing John B had in his kitchen... Cheez-its.

“Yeah,” you reply.

“Why?” He asks confused.

“My dad... he’s on this work thing,” you lie. “So, instead of staying home alone, John B offered me to stay here,” you make up. It came to you fast which was good.

“Well, I could’ve just stayed with you and yours,” he points out.

“Yeah true, but I told him a would,” you shrug. “Just for a bit.”

“Okay,” he nods still looking confused. “See you later?”

“Mhm,” you nod. He leans in kissing you and you relish in it for a moment.

“Love you,” he merely whispers.

“Love you,” you say back before he leaves the chateau.

John B walks in from the porch and yawns.

“You good?” He asks and you nod. “Okay... well. You can obviously stay in the spare room,” he points out. “Shower if you need to and call me if you need anything Okay?” He asks and you Nod again.

“I’m gonna go shower,” you tell him. “We can watch a movie after if you want?” You ask.

“Sure!” He nods. “Towels are under the sink,” he calls out as you walk to the bathroom. Time to get clean and feel a little bit better.

•••

The next day you woke up sore and in pain. Your ribs were hurting from all the bruising and your face felt a little rough too. You turn over grabbing your phone and you see a message from JJ.

JJ: Wanna go surfing today!?

You stare at the message. You knew the water would wash away any makeup you put on your bruises and you couldn’t wear a bathing suit without exposing anything.

ME: not today! I’m sure the gang will go with you!

JJ: why not!? :(

ME: not feeling it... sorry :(

JJ: that’s alright! Coming to the beach still?

ME: Idk

JJ: You should! To watch me surf.

ME: Haha, maybe.

You put your phone down getting out of bed. You walk out of the room and into the kitchen. John B was filling a cooler up with beer. He notices you and nods.

  “Morning,” he says.

  “Hey,” you reply.

  “How you doing?” He asks.

  “Good,” you reply.

  “You coming to the beach?” He asks.

  “Um... I don’t know,” you mumble. “I don’t know if I can really go out without showcasing my bruises,” I mutter.

  “Just wear a dress,” he shrugs. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he adds. “You can’t just stay in all day.”

  “Right,” you nod. “Sure, I’ll go.”

  “Go get dressed, we gotta pick up the others,” he tells you and you go to the room. You go through your backpack and grab the only dress you had which went to about mid-thigh it was short sleeve, but you could cover up the small bruises you had on your arms. You take your foundation and cover the ones on your face, making sure not to miss a spot like last time. You keep your hair down and slip on some sandals and go back downstairs to John B.

  “I’m ready,” You say. “You can’t see anything... can you?” You ask him and he looks you over.

  “No, nothing,” he shakes his head giving you a sympathetic look, but you brush it off not wanting or needing the pity. “Let’s go!”

We pick up Kie, Pope and JJ from their places and head down to the beach so they could surf. I wish I could, but I was bruised, and I only had one bathing suit which was a bikini and my board was at home... with my dad. So no can do.

  “Why don’t you wanna surf?” Kie asks as you guys get out of the van.

  “Not feeling it today,” You shrug helping with the cooler as they grab their boards.

  “Is your ankle alright?” Pope asks. “Is that why you’re not surfing?”

  “Oh... that,” you look at it again. “Yeah, hurts a little,” You nod.

  “You should probably ice it,” JJ says as you guys walk into the beach.

  “I will,” You nod.

  “Just put a beer on it while you sit here,” John B laughs at his suggestion. Yous it down on the towel you set for yourself and they all strip to get ready for surfing.

  “You sure you’re good here (Y/N)?” JJ asks.

  “Yeah, I’ll probably read or something,” you tell him. “Go!” You shoo him off with the rest of them and he gives you a look before jogging toward the water with his surfboard.

You sigh grabbing your book from your bag. “(Y/N),” you look up to see John B come back over to you.

  “Yeah?” You ask.

  “I was serious about the beer, put it on your ankle to soothe it a bit,” he tells you. “It looks pretty bad.”

  “Okay,” You nod. “Thanks John B.”

  “Yeah, no problem,” he shrugs. “You good here?” He asks. “There’s an endless supply of water and beer in there,” he points to the cooler and you laugh.

  “Yup, I’m good,” You nod again. “Have fun, you don’t have to wrory.”

  “Kay, see you,” he says and goes back to the water. You open your book grabbing yourself a beer to put on your ankle and one for you to drink.

~

When they get back from the pool you were sitting there, still, in your dress, JJ sits down on the end of your towel.

  “Hey,” he says. “Hanging out tonight?” He asks.

  “You coming over to John B’s?” You ask him.

  “I was hoping we could get some time alone,” he says.

  “Oh,” you mumble. “Well, I haven’t been feeling the best today. Could we do it some other time?” You ask. The only reason you didn’t want to hang out with JJ is that you didn’t want to keep lying to him more than you already are. This time your dad had beat you had been pretty bad. You’re bruised everywhere and lying to him was one of the hardest things for you. So you’d rather give yourself some time to heal before anything. Plus, you wouldn't be able to get down and dirty with him covered in bruises without him knowing.

  “Ah,” he nods looking confused. “Yeah, I guess we could hang out some other time,” he says. “Are you okay?” He asks.

  “Yeah!” You chirp. “I’ve been super tired and feeling sick. I might be catching the flu or something. Not a big deal,” you shake your head.

  “Is that why you’re wearing a dress on the beach and not your bathing suit in this heat?” He asks and you nod.

  “Yeah, the breeze is cold,” you lie. It was hot as hell, it usually was. But you dealt with it.

  “Okay,” he nods. “You know,” he adds. “I forgot to mention, but I saw your dad earlier,” he points out. “I thought he was going on a work trip?” He turns his body to talk to you and you attempt to cover up the flush on your cheek. Shit.

  “Right!” You say. “He’s leaving this afternoon,” you reiterate. “You know, we drank and all last night, so I just spent it at JB’s instead. He’s leaving today, sometime,” you blurt it all out randomly.

  “Oh, I see,” he nods. but he didn’t look conviced, far from it.

  “Yup.”

  “Movie night?” John B butts in. “I can make you soup if you don’t feel good,” he adds and you grin at him.

  “Sure,” You nod and you notice JJ staring at you guys confused and almost like he was angry.

  “Hope you guys have fun,” JJ stands up and grabs his surf board again.

  “What’s up his ass?” Kie asks and you shrug.

  “I don’t know,” you said. You did know though. He was jealous because you were staying in with John B and not going out with him. But you were just saving him from knowing. You didn’t want to be a burden. JJ had enough chaos in his life for multiple people.

•••

About a week had passed and you were still staying at John B’s. JJ wasn’t really liking it getting all suspect and what not. But nothing was going on. Your bruises were still evident, and you barely went into the water or surfed with them. But no one but JJ was noticing anything.

“(Y/N), you never want to hang out anymore,” he says. “What’s wrong!?” He asks you.

“Nothing JJ,” you shrug. “You’re reading too much into things,” you mutter.

“Really!? You’re barely having fun with us, you stay at the Chateau with John b all the god damn time! Is something going on!?” He asks.

“What!?” You merely scoff. “It’s just been a week Okay. I have my period and I don’t feel good,” you lie. “It doesn’t matter. I’m allowed to have my days.”

“Yeah, everyday,” he nods. “I’m your boyfriend and you spend more time with JB,” he points out. “Is something going on with you!?” He grabs your arm and the spot he touches you makes you flinch because it hurt and he looks confused.

“Look,” you mumble looking down and backing away from his grip. “I just need a little time alone,” you retort.

“What!?” He asks.

“I’m gonna be at John B’s” you said. “I need a bit of time alone.”

“What is this like a break!?” He asks.

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m just gonna be alone, while you guys do what you want. Once I get out of my mood and all I’ll hang out with you guys. I just need some space,” you say even though it hurt to say to JJ. You spent all your time with him and it was weird to be away. But you needed to get better before he sees you again.

This is has been the worst you’ve been hurt, now you just needed time to recoup away from your friends.

“Really?” He asks and you nod.

“Hey!” John B shows up.

“Hey, can I have your keys?” you turn to John B. “I wanna go back to the Chateau,” you add.

“Really?” He asks and you nod. “Okay here,” he passes the house keys to you. “Need a ride!?” He asks.

“No,” you shake your head.

“You sure you’re okay?” He whispers as you turn around. You nod and put on a grin.

“I just wanna lay down, watch a movie,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he says. “See you later then. Be safe.”

“Yeah, bye,” you nod and glance at an angry JJ once more before you leave on your walk back to the Chateau.

When you got there, you felt yourself slightly break down because you felt bad for leaving JJ out of this. But you knew it was the best thing to do. You didn’t need anyone knowing about your dad. John B knowing was already humiliating and bad. Everything was too much. You needed time alone, time to think. Everything was getting to your head and you just couldn’t generate anything. It all happened so fast. Leaving your dad, telling John B, staying here, barely hanging out with JJ!! And he was already pissed off at you. It all made you break down onto the couch and cry. It needed to be let out. All the anxiety, all the fear of people figuring out your life, what happens to you... was just so overwhelming. You stayed on that couch the rest of the night and cried yourself to sleep.

~

“Hey.... (Y/N),” you feel someone nudge you and you groan turning over on the couch to see John B.

“Hmm?” You mumble.

“You good? I came back to find you passed out on the couch... still dressed and makeup on,” he points out. “Smeared actually.”

“Oh,” you say. “I fell asleep on the couch,” you tell him totally skipping the part where you cried yourself to sleep.

“Okay, well it’s almost 1:00, so...” he drifts and you nod.

“Yeah, I gotta shower,” you say sitting up on the couch and stretching, but regretting that from the shooting pain in your rib which makes you groan.

“Are you still in pain?” He asks.

“No... I’m fine,” you wave it off. “I’m gonna shower,” you stand and quickly walk to the bathroom. You undress and see the bruise on your rib was healing very slowly, still purple and blue from where he kicked. You touch it only to flinch at your own touch. You get into the hot shower that soothes your muscles and pain rubbing your makeup off in the water. It was nice to have a relaxing shower after a long night of realization. You didn’t plan on leaving the house for a bit. You wanted to just have a week, have a couple of days at least to yourself to feel better. After that, you could have a talk with JJ about your weird behaviour. Make some excuse about how you haven’t been yourself and just needed a reality check. Right now. No one besides John B and yourself needed to know about your dad. That’s it. When you get out of your almost hour-long shower you go to your room draped in a towel to change. You slip on some underwear shorts and a sports bra only to be looking for at least one piece of clean clothing. You hear some noises from the kitchen and look toward the mostly closed door. John B was probably doing something stupid. He would probably be hanging out with the Pouges later. You guys all hung out every day. You’ll just tell him that you’re gonna stay in for a bit. Need some you time. You hear a knock on your room door.

“Hold on John B I’m changing,” you turn toward the door and it opens to reveal JJ standing there. You freeze completely confused and shocked. “JJ!” You say quickly and you notice his eyes roam over your body and you were exposed. He could see all the bruises and the scars. His eyes widen when he stares.

“(Y/N),” he says.

“JJ!” You say merely in a whisper. “Please... you should go,” you tell him. “I told you I needed time.”

He takes a step into the room and you shake your head. “JJ... go,” you tell him trying to stay calm.

“(Y/N), did you hear that noise!?” John B walks into the room and sees JJ and he turns to you and you step back making JJ look at John B.

“Did... did... he do this!?” JJ points to John B and John B looks at me.

“JJ, please go,” you tell him.

“DID YOU HURT HER!?” He yells at John B and John B’s eyes widen.

“What!? Dude are you serious!?” John B asks and the yelling makes you flinch harder.

“What the fuck!” JJ yells stepping closer to John B.

“JJ!” You say.

“How fucking dare you!?” JJ yells at John b. “You sick FUCK!”

“It wasn’t me!!” John B yells back. “Why do you think it was me!?”

“Who else!? You guys have been fucking weird this whole time!! Is that why you never leave this place (Y/N) what have you been doing to her you MOTHERFUCKER!!” JJ spits out to John B your eyes widen. Oh god.

“Fuck you! I have been helping her!” John B says.

“I can't believe you touched HER!” JJ says and then you notice him raised his hand sending a right hook straight to John B’s jaw causing him to fall back against the wall with wide eyes.

“JJ!” You say.

“Don’t! Why didn’t you tell me!?” He looks between you guys. “How dare you!” He grabs John B by the collar of his shirt.

“JJ! Stop...” John B croaks before he punches him again.

“What!? Why should I!?” He yells in his face.

“It’s not me!! It’s (Y/an)’s dad!” John B says quickly and you run over covering his mouth with your hand and JJ looks at you.

“JJ Stop,” you tell him. “Get out of here!”

“Are you serious!?” He asks. “I need to know what the fuck is going on (Y/N), right now,” he said. “What happened to you!?” He looks at the bruises and you feel insecure. John B takes your hand off.

“(Y/N)’s dad’s been hitting her,” John B says.

“John B!” You look at him.

“I have to tell him...” he gives you a sorry look. “It’s not me! I’m not taking the blame for that shit.”

“It’s true...?” JJ looks at you and you barely can look back at him. “Answer me!” He exclaims and you flinch at his words. “(Y/N).”

“Please... just go home JJ,” you tell him.

“No!” He shakes his head. “If you won’t tell me, John B will,” he says and steps closer to you. “(Y/N), tell me what’s going on.”

You felt like crying but you didn’t want to seem weak. You weren’t weak.

“It’s embarrassing,” you mumble.

“No it isn’t,” he says grabbing your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say quickly and look at him to see his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes look sad. He fakes your hand and leads you to the bed. You sit down with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asks.

“I didn’t think you needed another issue on your plate,” you said. “You have enough of your own... I don’t need to be that burden to you JJ.”

“Burden!? Are you serious?” He asks. “(Y/N), you’re my girlfriend and my best friend. You mean the most to me, nothing you say or do is ever a burden to me,” he tells you and you feel your heart melt for this guy. “Please... tell me.”

“It’s just my dad,” you say like it was nothing. “He was drunk.”

“Like mine?” He asks and you nod.

“It’s Fine really.”

“Stop it,” he said. “That’s not okay,” he tells you. “Look at you... you are full of bruises (Y/N), how long has this been going on?” He asks.

“Since my mom,” you reply like you answered John B’s question and his eyes widen.

“You really didn’t want to tell us this!?” He asks. “I’m so sorry... babe I’m sorry.”

“Why!?” You ask. “It’s not your fault,” you shrug. “Look JJ... I’ll be okay it’s just a couple of bruises.”

“Stop trying to act strong (Y/N), please... just don’t right now. I know it sucks and hurts. You don’t have to put on an act in front of me. I love you, I’m here for you! And you have us!” He says. “Baby... look at me,” he tells you and you look at him. “It’s Okay not to be okay... trust me. I would know,” with those words you just let the tears roll. They dropped down your cheeks vigorously and couldn’t stop. He pulled you close to him and held you as you cried. You shuddered in his arms and he rubbed small Circles on your back in a soothing motion.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t say anything... thank you JJ. I love you,” you tell him and he just keeps you close to him. “It hurts!” You add and he nods. He moves a hand down to your bruise and rubs it softly.

“Its gonna be okay.... we’re here for you,” he tells you and you just cried and cried. You couldn’t stop, but it felt good to be in the embrace of someone you know and love. Someone who cares. Someone finally cared and it felt great. It felt so good to be loved. “I love you,” he says and those words felt even better. “I’m sorry... I love you, baby... I love you. Please always come to me,” he tells you softly and you nod while the tears spilt out of your eyes. You look up at him tears in your eyes and he cups your cheeks wiping the tears away with his thumbs. He leans in placing a soft kiss on your lips and you let out a whine while crying pulling him in for more. JJ was the best guy in your life. You needed him and he was always there. You were loved.

************************

A/N this one was a long one guys! I hope you enjoyed that emotional roller coaster! Thanks for the request! I’m up for more if you guys have any.

[lordoffiction]

Two Souls, One Fate: chapter one.

☞: After spending two days trying to post this, here it is! Hooray!

I really hope you all enjoy this whilst I finish writing the fifth chapter for T.L, because god knows I spent too much time on this. I haven’t wrote in a few months, so please excuse any mistakes I made in this and if it’s shitty! It’ll get better, promise. 

Please give me feedback and let me know if you would like to get tagged in this series! 

Anyways, enjoy! 

WORD COUNT: 5,069

WARNINGS: swearing, mild violence, mentions of suicide.

gif isn’t mine, all credits to the owner. 

                              —————————

Your fingers combed through your hair, bundling it up into an untidy ponytail, pulling the long strands to make sure it was secure and tight enough. You had had long hair for around ten years, it's your pride and joy.

Growing up in an all-male family had made you that way, you grew up a tomboy with your five older brothers and always saw yourself as one of them.

But then that magical moment came when you were ripped from your carefree childhood and brutally slammed into the harsh society and expectations of women, you had begun to hate the idea of acting like a boy. People told you to act more like a “lady”. So you had put away the mud pies, the sword fights, and the wrestling. You began doing make-up, having long hair, and wearing pretty clothes.

But throughout everything, no matter what anyone said, society and snotty people couldn’t take this one thing from you.

Archery.

Your father had taught you from a young age, a sport that made you better even on your worst days. Something that not even the most powerful being in existence could take from you. The thrill of letting go of that arrow, watching it glide through the air before striking its target. It was something you would never get bored of.

You dressed in your normal sportswear, sliding on protective gloves made specially to stop your hands from getting sores as you held the arrow.

Where you lived was a small village, everybody knew everybody. News and gossip spread like wildfire here, so you only imagine that half the village had already heard about your date later tonight.

Reaching over to your bow and your arrow hanging pot, slinging it over your shoulder, you left your small apartment and headed towards the forest. You had a set up shooting range for archery at the corner of it, your dad would make targets for you and set you challenges every day when you were younger. Like swinging targets or shooting whilst you're running.

“G’ morning, dear. Going out to the woods again?”  

Your eyes turned to see your elderly neighbour smiling at you, her eyes crinkled at the corners. Her walking stick barely keeping her up properly and her woven hat kept the sunlight out of her eyes.

“Mrs. Genkins,” You smiled at her small frame. Such a fragile woman. “Don’t I spend all my time in those damn woods?”

“Just you be careful, you wouldn’t want to hurt yourself before your date tonight.” Mrs. Genkins waved her walking stick at you slightly in a teasing manner, barely putting it back in time before she loses her balance.

The comment made your eyes roll internally. Of course, people already knew about your date tonight.

“I see news hasn’t lost its way around this place.” Your hand automatically reaching out to her in case she falls, which she brushed away with her wrinkled hands. Though she may be pushing ninety, she sure is one tough little lady when it comes to receiving any help.

“You know people around here, other people's lives are their entertainment. Just make sure this one can handle you, you can’t be single forever, you know?” Mrs. Genkins squinted her eyes at you teasing you from the last man you had dated that went sour once he had realized how unfeminine you are.

“Is he really worth my time is he can’t handle a tough girl like me?” You teased back, giving her a small wink as she cackled at your comment.

“Well, I better be going if I want to miss the morning rush at the morning market. You be safe, dear. And be careful.”

You nodded at her, smiling as you waved her down the road and out of sight. You let your head fall back slightly, closing your eyes with an exasperating sigh. You really need to move somewhere where there isn’t anyone you know or where no-one knows you.

You set off towards the woods, it wasn’t a far walk, only about five minutes from your apartment complex.

You dug your earphones out from your pocket, plugging them into your phone, and playing your latest playlist you had made for when you go do your archery. You began stretching your arms on the way, hooking one arm around the other, and pulling on it to receive a satisfying 'pop'.

Just as you entered the woods, you began to hear faint drumming noises. You brushed it off, perhaps it was something for the song you were listening to, though you never remembered this when you last listened to it yesterday.

Your brows knotted together in confusion as the drumming began to get louder and louder as you went deeper into the forest. The noise became so loud that you ripped your earphones out of your ears, your eyes widening. It wasn’t coming from the music.

It was coming from around you.  

As soon as you realised, a small chanting sound echoed with the drumming, syncing with the beat of it.

A cult? You thought.

Your E/C hues quickly began searching around you to see who was doing it but found no one else in the woods with you.

Your fight or flight reflex suddenly kicked in, making you break out into a full-blown sprint into the woods, you tried to fumble with your bow, reaching for one of your arrows in it’s hanging pot behind your back, panting as your fingertips brushed the tip of it.

“C’mon!” You yelled at yourself in frustration.

Suddenly, you began to fall sideways, your ankle giving way beneath you in a twisted mess. The world began to spiral around you as you rolled into the ditch near the pathway you were once walking on.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You felt yourself being thrashed around for a few seconds downhill before finally landing on the flat ground again. You gasped for air, the collision causing you to land onto your back, knocking all the air out of your lungs.

You laid there for a minute, breathing in deeply. Did you really just fucking fall?

Rolling onto your side and going onto your hands and knees once you regained your breath, you looked up at the large hill you just fell from, realising the only way you can get back to the track is if you climb back up again.

“Shit.” You grumbled under your breath, using the nearest tree to pull yourself up to your feet again. Your arrows were scattered around you from the fall, leaning down to pick them up one by one and placing them back in your hanging pot.

As you reached for the last one, but your eyes were caught on a small box under the root of a large tree, surely the largest tree you had seen in these woods before and in your entire life.

It must have been thousands of years old, you could wrap yourself around it at least six or seven times.

“Oh, my...” You gawked the tree up and down, taking it all in before looking back to the box that was intertwined with its roots.

“What’s this?” You wondered aloud, going onto your knees and tracing your fingers on the corners of the box that you could touch. It was covered in dirt and moss but your curiosity ate you alive, reaching for one of your arrows, you began to jab at the root to loosen it with the end of your arrow.

After a few moments of trying, you finally loosened the root enough to yank the box out from it with a hard tug, causing you to fall backward.

You brushed it with your fingers but the dirt and grime were so thickly coated on it for god knows how long.

“Curious cat, aren’t you?” You spoke to yourself, standing up again and forgetting completely about your training. “This could be a murder weapon or something and you want to take it home with you.” You tusked, tucking the box into your hanging pot.

The journey back home was filled with many emotions, the main one being self-pity for yourself on how you fell down the hill. The second was about the drums that caused you to fall.

                                 —————————

You ringed your hair out as you stepped out of the shower, letting it fall down your back, the water droplets dripping down your skin, and pooling around your feet.

You dried yourself off as you danced to the music playing from your speaker in your small apartment, grabbing the clothes you planned to wear to your date tonight.

What a weird day, huh. You thought back to the drumming and chanting.

You had chosen a pair of black jeans and a cute black top you had recently bought as a treat, the neckline dripping to show your cleavage. The outfit suited your figure beautifully, staring at yourself in the mirror as you tugged on your black, leather heeled Chelsea boots.

You’d only done concealer and mascara for your make-up. Nothing too fancy for a little date.

“Not bad, Y/N. Not bad at all.” You smiled at yourself. You had curled your long hair, tucking one side behind your ear.

You looked behind you, seeing the small box you discovered sitting on your kitchen counter. You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing you still had some time to kill before your date got here.

After a few minutes of running around your apartment and gathering things like a toothbrush, washing up liquid, a small paintbrush, and paper towels; you set up your little workspace on the counter to clean the box.

You dipped the toothbrush in the soapy water, gently scrubbing the dirt from the box, using the paintbrush to brush any specks of dirt off it.

Some time had passed, and you could finally see the beauty beneath the dirt.

“What are these?” You mumbled to yourself, looking at the strange engraved marks on the box. The box looked silver, but you couldn’t be sure.

Carefully prying the box open with your fingertips, you revealed inside a stranger kind of necklace.

Your head tilted to the side and your brows furrowed together as the small spiral pendant looked almost familiar. Like you had owned one before but forgot about it. A very distant memory.

It was silver, in the shape of an upside-down hammer. The leather cord that was with it had deteriorated, falling apart as soon as you picked up the pendant.

You cleaned off the pendant in the soapy water, patting it dry with a paper towel. Quickly going back to your room and grabbing one of your necklaces, you took the chain from it. Going back to the kitchen where you carefully hooped the pendant onto the silver chain.

Should I...

You pondered for a moment, staring at the pendant in your hand. You raised the chain around your neck, clasping it together at the hooks as it hung on your chest. You stilled for a moment, almost expecting something to happen when you put it on.

“Idiot,” You laughed at yourself, going over to where a mirror was to see how it looked on. But as soon as you took a step forwards, it felt like you began falling. You could hear the chants again from the woods, the drums pounding around you, almost deafeningly loud. Your eyes widened in terror as you couldn’t move your body as you fell back, the floor of your apartment swallowing you in a rabbit hole.

Lights surrounded you in all different colors, seeing silhouettes in the corner of your eye. Were they the ones chanting?

Oh god, oh fuck, oh shit.

Your breathing became labored, struggling to get air as you tried desperately to move your limbs.

The drumming and chanting only growing louder the deeper you fell into this rabbit hole.

Silence.

Suddenly the chanting and drums stopped, looking up to see the disfigured sky. You attempted to move your limbs again, gasping when you found you could move.

You kicked your way up to the sky, gasping for air once you broke through.

The sound of lapping waves and squalling seagulls invaded your ears, a sudden chill going over your body.

You looked around you with wide eyes, astonished by your surroundings. You were in the fucking ocean.

“What the fuck?!” You shrieked out, panic set over you as you tried to stay afloat, legs kicking under the water furiously.

“You’re dreaming. You must have gotten a concussion,” you repeated to yourself. “Yeah, yeah. You’re concussed.”

“You there!”

You snapped your head to see a wooden boat sailing towards you, numerous men aboard it as they all peered down at you. One man, in particular, stood at the arch of the boat, big and with a long braided bear. He was bald, tattoos around his head in strange patterns.

“Did you get lost, woman?” He belly laughed, the other men joining in. You were too much in shock to try and even say anything back. “Frode, throw the poor woman a rope.”

One of the men, skinner than the one barking orders, threw a thick rope towards you, splashing into the water in front of you, the water spraying on your face.

You grabbed the rope, unsure whether or not being on a boat with strangers or being in the ocean alone was better. The men heaved you up to the boat, letting your body hit the deck of it like a wet fish.

You panted slightly, trying to calm your thundering heart before it jumped out your throat.

You weren’t facing the men, your eyes locked onto your hands that dug into the wooden deck, trying to desperately grasp onto some kind of reality.

“Holy fuck.” You gasped out.

“Someone get her something to cover herself with!” The bald, bearded man ordered. Someone came over and wrapped some kind of cloak on you, you quickly tied it on your neck, trying to get warm.

“What kind of clothing is she wearing?” Another man spoke.

“A whore, perhaps?” Another replied.

“Whore!?” You repeated, turning to look at the men for the first time. “Who do you think you're calling a whore?”

The expressions on the men’s faces changed as soon as you looked up at them. The sudden change in mood made you want to cower away. Are these cosplayers? Re-enactors? Why did they dress that way?

“Freyja.” The bald one spoke, barely a whisper.

“Freyja?” You repeated. Who?

You’d never heard such a name before, were they calling you that? The men exchanged a look, communicating with their eyes before turning back to you.

“What’s your name?” The bald one asks, his tone in voice changing.

“Y/N,” you reply, beginning to stand up. “Where is this? Where are we right now?”

“Kattegat.” Someone spoke, earning a quick shove by the person next to him.

Your brows frowned together. Kattegat? Maybe you should have paid more attention in geography class when you were in school.

“Tie her up. We must show the Princes, this is an imposter of Freyja.” The bald one spoke again before walking away, his face unreadable.

“Wait!” You exclaimed, looking around as the men closed in on you, starting to grab you. “Get your fucking hands off of me!”

You elbowed the man who grabbed your from behind, hearing a grunt from him as he doubled over, making you flick your long hair out of your face.

“If anyone touches me, I’ll rip your fucking limbs off.” You warned, getting into a fighting stance with your balled fists in the air. You were outnumbered, by many. Before you could even say another word, one of the men quickly backhanded you across the face, knocking you down to the floor where they all cornered you.

—————————

The bald man, whose name you had learned was Magnus, threw you onto the ground with force, causing you to land on your shoulder. A groan left your lips as pain tingled down your arm.

“Don’t fucking throw me, you bald bastard!” You shouted at him, your hands restrained behind your back and your ankles tied together also, restraining you of trying to run off. Your hair had fallen across your face, limiting your view of your surroundings.  

The whole hall of people turned to look at you, hearing small whispers about your clothing. The music had stopped playing and the cheers.

Who the fuck were these people?

You could barely make out four men sitting at a large table in front of you, maybe a few feet away, two with fair hair and two with dark.

“What’s the meaning of this, Magnus?” You heard one of them say, his accent making your ears perk up. “Did any of you ask for a thrall for the night?” He directed his question to the men beside him.

“My apologies, Prince Ubbe, but...” The bald man suddenly seemed nervous, unsure of what exactly to say. It made you scoff. A big guy like him was scared of these guys? “We found her in the sea--”

“Spit it out, before I rip your tongue out.” Another man at the table spoke, the threat taking you off guard. His accent was the same.

“We believe she’s an imposter and a volva.”

“An imposter and a volva?” another one of the men at the table snickered. “Sound’s interesting, Ubbe.”

“Who are you calling an imposter?” You sneered at the men. “I don’t even know you.”

“Watch your mouth, whore!” You heard, gasping as one of the men who tied you kicked you in your side.

“Enough.” You heard the first man say, hearing the chair he was sitting in move across the floor. “I asked you what the meaning of this was? You’re spoiling our celebration.”

The bald man grabbed the back of your head, gripping onto your hair as he roughly pulled you onto your knees, making you wince. Your hair moved from your face in the process and you could finally see around you. At the table sat the four men, the Princes, you had gathered.

All handsome— wait. Not the right time.

Their faces were twisted in an expression you had never seen before on someone as soon as they looked at you. The whole of the hall went deathly quiet as eyes were on you.

One of the men at the table stood up abruptly, his hands on the table. He had four twisted braids in his dark hair, his eyes a piercing blue as they stared at you. They were the bluest eyes you had ever seen.

Those eyes. You’d seen them before.

“Freyja.” He said to you. Again with the name.

Your head was tugged back, knocking you out of your trance and filling your chest with rage. Ripping your eye contact from him, you turned your attention to the man behind you.

“Get your hands off me before I break them.” You growled out.

Whispers broke out around you, you scowled at them all. What were they all wearing? Are these Vikings?

Your E/C eyes find their way to the blue ones again, he seemed to tense when you looked at him, his breath catching in his throat. It was like he was a statue.

The one with long brown hair with two braids going into one and green eyes stood up.

“Everybody leave.” Was all he said for everyone to leave the room. “You men can also leave. Get out.”

The men behind you began to leave, Magnus let your hair suddenly go from his grip, letting you land onto your face.

“Fuck.” You whimpered out, a tingling pain going up your nose. The only people left in the large hall were you and the four strange men, you strangely began to feel small.

The blonde man who was at the head of the table began to make his way towards you, his footsteps stopping once in front of you. Was this the one they called Ubbe?

“You,” He kneeled on one knee as he grabbed your jaw with his index finger and thumb. “What is your name?”

You hold your tongue, refusing to tell him. But this only made his grip on your jaw tighten.

“If you want to keep your tongue, I suggest you answer when spoken to.” He said lowly, his eyes just as blue as the man behind him. Were they brothers?

You stare into his eyes, trying to stare him down like a dog but his eyes never faltered. His stare was incredibly intimidating.

You gave an exasperating huff of breath, rolling your eyes to yourself.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

He kept staring at you, his eyes studying your face. His eyes looked sad as if pained as he looked at you. His jaw clenched and unclenched before he spoke again. “Why were you in the sea?”

“I don’t know, one moment I was in my home and the next I was in the water.” You knew this had to do with the necklace and the drumming in the woods. It all has to link up somehow. You went to reach up to grab it but remembered your hands were tied.

His eyes moved from yours as he removed his hand from your jaw, turning to the other men at the table. Your eyes followed. Both the one with blue eyes and the blonde one with fluffy hair were frozen in place still. It’s like they’ve seen a ghost.

The one kneeling in front of you raised his eyebrows at the one with the braids as if asking him what to do. He walked over to the both of you, gawking down at you with his green eyes.

“It’s as if she’d risen from the dead, but how can that be? We saw her body that day.” He said, staring down at you.

“Can someone just explain to me what’s going on?” You pipped up. A loud bang caused you to jump, looking towards the cause of the noise. The blue-eyed man had gotten up, his chair fallen behind him and his hands pressed against the surface of the table. His chest was heaving under his leather armor. His face was twisted with anger and hurt, barely looking at you as he grabbed his crutch.

“I don’t care what you do with her," he looked over to you with eyes so intense, your lips parted as your breath hitched in your throat. You felt your heart dip into your stomach.

Holy shit. Those eyes... Where have you seen them before?

"She's not Freyja." He walked out the hall and passed you, his crutch stabbing into the wood beneath him in anger, he looked as if he was almost snarling as he walked through the doors.

“Ivar--” The one with the green eyes called after him, going to walk after him but the one who was knelt suddenly stood up, holding a hand against his chest.

“Leave him, this must be a shocking sight for him. He needs time.”

“Can you untie me so I can leave?” You cut in, the rope irritating the skin off your wrists. The men ignored you, the blonde fluffy-haired one finally speaking up after this whole time.

“You can’t let her leave.”

—————————

You sat awkwardly in the chair, fiddling with your fingers on your lap as the three men stared at you. The fluffy-haired one had untied you but sat you in the chair at the large table, the green-eyed one threatening that if you tried anything then you’d regret it.

Scary.

They spoke as if you weren’t even there too.

“What kind of clothes is she wearing? She's dressed like a prostitute.” The one with the two braids spoke, cutting an apple slowly with a knife before placing it in his mouth.

Your gaze turned to him, anger rising in your chest. What was with these guys? Do they have no respect?

“Say that again,” You pointed your finger towards him. “and I’ll spoon your eyes out. How can you say anything about what I'm wearing when you’re dressed like a rodent in all those furs?”

The man stared at you for a moment before smirking. Who are you smiling at, you bastard--

“With a mouth like hers, she certainly isn’t Freyja. She wouldn’t dare speak like that.” He said. "Even if she is identical to her."

“That’s because I’m not Freyja. And you do know that this is kidnapping, right? You can get put into jail because of this.”

The brothers exchanged a look.

“And where would you find one of those?” Asked the one with the long braid, Ubbe, you remembered. “We’re the sons of Ragnar, nobody can tell us what we can or cannot do.”

Your eyebrows frowned, looking at them sideways at you felt dumbfounded.

Who is Ragnar?

“As if I know, or care, who Ragnar is. Let me go.” You huffed, folding your arms over your chest. Shit, it was cold here. Even this cloak did nothing to help with your soaking clothes.

Their expressions only looked more confused, as if they were more confused than you are and couldn't understand how you didn't know who Ragnar is.

“Where are you from?” The one eating asked.

“Tell me your names and then I’ll tell you what you want to know.” You cocked an eyebrow at them. If they were stupid enough, they’d tell you so you can report them to the police once you find a way out of here.

God, the air here smells like constant shit. You want to go home already, to your scented candles to cleanse your nose of this stench.

“Curious thing, aren’t you? I’m Hvitserk,” Hvitserk pointed to the other men with the end of his knife. “these are my brothers, Ubbe and Sigurd.”

Ubbe smiled at you as Sigurd only stood still, unsure of what to say to you.

“And the blue-eyed one who walked out?” You asked.

“That was Ivar, our youngest brother.”

“What was his problem?” You quizzed again. Shut up, Y/N. This curiosity is the reason why you’re here in the first place.

Ubbe and Hvitserk looked at you before exchanging a look between them, Sigurd shifting on his feet as he cleared his throat. You noticed his jaw clench and his fists tighten at his sides.

“Well?” You repeated, waiting for an answer from one of them.

“The woman you resemble—” Ubbe began, getting cut off by a nudge from Hvitserk.

“Is it wise to tell her?” He asked his brother lowly, his green eyes looking at you.

“You do not think she deserves to know?”

“She could be deceiving us, a volva like the men said,” Hvitserk warned his brother.

You could only roll your eyes at them as you shifted in the chair, crossing your legs over.

“I don’t know what that is, but I can assure you I'm not deceiving you. I just want to know what’s going on.” You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“You resemble a woman called ‘Freyja’,” Sigurd spoke suddenly, looking into the bright flame that burned in the hall. His brothers turned to look at him with you. “No, you don’t resemble her. You are her.”

“Who is Freyja?” You asked.

“She was my first love.” He turned to look at you. “And Ivar's.”

Hvitserk and Ubbe sat back in the chairs, staying deadly quiet as their brother spoke to you. Their first love?

“What happened to her?” The question made your heart sink, taking you off guard. Why do you care?

“She died protecting us all. She was the most beautiful and loved woman in Kattegat, every man wanted her hand in marriage. Including all of us,” Sigurd suggested to his brothers, making Ubbe take a sip out of his cup and Hvitserk turn his gaze.

“A king came one day, wanting to trade. But once his eyes set on Freyja, demanding to marry her or risk causing a war between us. We all agreed to go to war, prepared, made an army. She refused to cause a war over her, Freyja had always hated violence.”

Sigurd took a shaky breath, his hands trembling in the light of the fire. The sight was enough to let you know how much he was affected by this.

“She... she was in love with Ivar. The thought of either losing him in battle or by marrying herself off was too much for her to ever bare. The day of the battle, Freyja stood between armies, in the middle of the battle field,” His eyes looked at yours, something flashing over them. “She drove a sword through herself in front of everyone. She did it for her love.”

The words made your breath hitch in your throat.

She killed herself... for him?

Your eyes tore away from Sigurd’s figure, looking anywhere but at the brothers.

No wonder Ivar left, you thought. Imagine seeing the woman you loved kill herself in front of you and then seeing her alive again...

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly, staring at your lap. “But I just want to go home. I have a family there, friends. They’re probably searching for me.”

“It’s dark out now,” Ubbe spoke, clearing his throat as he stood. “You should rest here for the night and begin searching for your way back in the morning. We'll help you.”

You nodded a 'thank you', standing from your chair. Hvitserk looked at your soaking clothes, turning to Sigurd.

"Tell one of the thralls to prepare some clothes for Y/N. She can't sleep in those."

Sigurd nodded, walking down a passageway and out of sight. You could see a grateful look on his face towards his brother for getting him out the room.

"You still haven't told me where you're from." Hvitserk turned his attention to you, leaning back against the table.

"Honestly, I don't think any of you will know where I'm from. But I can tell you I'm not from here. I come from a different time." You uttered, holding the necklace under your cloak, your thumb grazing the lines in it. "Someone or something brought me here, I want to know why."

[prettyboyreid]

safe

Request: can you do a spencer reid imagine based on season 9 episode 23 and 24 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

Spencer experiences what is possibly the worst twenty-four hours of his life, and so does his wife.

Warnings: spoilers for Criminal Minds season 9 finale, lots of talk of blood, gun violence, normal Criminal Minds content

Word Count: 4,623

She almost didn’t even notice what happened.  She almost kept firing at the unsub inside the restaurant.  She almost carried on as if nothing had even happened. 

Almost.

Spencer had pushed her and Blake out of the way at the very last moment, somehow knowing they were in the line of fire after only a few bullets had been shot at them.  She thought he would’ve gone back to behind the car door he had been crouched behind, but the second she heard Morgan running towards them, her heart sank.  She felt the weight of the world crash onto her shoulders that couldn’t bear it.  She dropped her gun before running over to him, hoping the bullet had hit the Kevlar and not him, that the wind had just been knocked out of him and he would get up in a minute.

If only she had been so lucky. 

Morgan held pressure to his neck as she scrambled over to his limp body, trying to assess the situation the same way her husband would have if it were the other way around.  Her hands soon replaced Derek’s much larger ones before he ran into the building, chasing down whoever it was that had shot his best friend, his brother.  

Spencer’s eyes looked heavy, like it took most of his strength just to look at her.  She gave him a soft smile as she held him, doing her best to try and at least make him feel comfortable.  He always told her that he felt safest with her. 

“Hey, hey, keep your eyes on me, Spence.  You’re gonna be alright,” she promised, repeating those four words to him over and over again like a mantra.  The promise was more for herself, knowing she was the one that probably needed to hear it more than him.  She watched as he tried to open his mouth and say something to her, but he couldn’t even muster up more than the necessary breaths that kept him alive.

“Don’t try and say anything, okay?” she soothed him, looking up only for a brief moment as she heard the sirens of the ambulance she assumed Hotch had called approaching quickly.  “You need to save your strength.  The ambulance is almost here, and we’re gonna get you some help.”  She used the back of her hand that wasn’t pressing down on the fresh wound to wipe away a few tears she had let slip, not wanting him to see her cry right now.  She was supposed to stay strong for him, and that was getting harder and harder the more she watched his gaze fluctuate between her and his eyelids. 

The ambulance had arrived much quicker than she expected.  Once the paramedics had reached Spencer, the ringing sound of bullets had long subsided.  The buzzing of the possibly fatal hit, however, buzzed in her ear like radio static, and the longer she watched him the louder it became. 

The EMTs quickly mounted him onto a stretcher and ushered him into the ambulance, holding cloth to his neck to stop the bleeding.  She looked back at their Unit Chief quickly to make sure it was alright for her to go, and he nodded.  Y/N quickly climbed into the car before the doors closed. 

She laced her hand with Spencer’s much larger one, though it was just limp and nearly lifeless.  He could hardly keep his eyes open, practically choking for any air he could get as he struggled to stay stable in the back of the ambulance.  The vehicle lurched forward before quickly driving off towards the nearest hospital, the paramedic riding in the back with the couple continuing to hold pressure on the bleeding wound. 

“We’re almost there, Spence,”  she whispered to him, her gaze glued to him as she gave him a weak smile.  By this point, since she wasn’t even sure he could see her, she let her tears flow freely.  She felt weak, like she was about to break the second he left her side for surgery.  

She didn’t want to let him go; she wanted to hold his hand through every step to let him know she was there for him.  She worried that he wouldn’t feel her next to him in surgery, worried she had gone back to work, forgetting about him.  

“Keep your eyes on me, okay?  I’m not leaving. I’ll be right here. Eyes on me,” she told him, wincing slightly as the ambulance pulled to a stop.  

The paramedic that had been driving ripped the doors open seconds after they had stopped, helping pull Spencer out of the vehicle and set the wheels down to the ground.  She had hopped out of the ambulance and quickly followed them in, her mind tuning out the jargon they were yelling at the doctors as he was pushed down the white sterile halls towards the surgery wing.  She focused solely on him, watching as his eyes slowly closed just as he was pushed past two large red doors, forbidding her from staying with her husband any longer. 

She stood in that spot for a while - somewhere between five and twenty minutes, she wasn’t really sure - until a nurse carefully approached her.  The young woman rested a hand on her arm, catching Y/N’s attention before she turned down to her. 

“Is there anybody you’d like me to call?  Family, maybe?” the nurse (who she had deduced was named Evelyn, based on her name tag) had asked.  It took her a few moments to respond before she nodded, wanting to wipe her tears away the way Spencer would before she remembered his blood had been caked over her fingers. 

“Uh… um yeah.  Penelope Garcia.  I have her card somewhere and I’m sure she’s on her way but… I just need to be sure,” she said, sniffling a bit before looking around the hospital as she dug through her pockets.  She pulled out a few small pieces of paper, sifting through them before she found the one she had been searching for.  She handed it over to the nurse with shaking hands, letting out a sigh before she let her eyes shift between her and her hands. 

“Where’s the restroom?” she asked quietly, knowing she should clean herself up before she caught more than a few judgmental stares.  The nurse pointed her in the direction of the nearest one, giving her a soft, sympathetic smile.  Y/N thanked her quietly, following her directions before pushing the heavy door open with her elbow and making her way to the sinks. 

She scrubbed the dried maroon blood from her nervous, shaking hands, the entire scenario replaying in her head as she watched everything swirl down the drain.  Even after her hands were clean, she continued rubbing them down with thinly foamed soap and freezing water, hoping it would take away the memory of watching him hang on for his life by a thin, narrow thread.  

It was wishful thinking, but it didn’t stop her from trying. 

After a few minutes, she twisted the water off and grabbed a few paper towels from the automatic machine beside the sinks, rubbing off any excess water that still remained.  She stared at her hands, wondering how long she would have the picture in her mind of her holding his neck, praying to whatever God there was that his eyes would stay open, that he would keep breathing.  The very thought made her lose what little lunch she did have into the garbage can by the door, holding her hair back quickly as she coughed up anything left in her stomach. 

She ran her hands back through her hair as she tried to at least get a hold of herself, splashing some cold water on her face and rinsing her mouth out.  (She made a quick note to herself to ask Penelope to pick up a travel toothbrush and toothpaste set at the airport whenever she landed.)  She looked herself over in the mirror, her skin pale and sunken in as if she had aged ten years since this morning, though given what she’s been through, it didn’t feel like much of a stretch.  

She made her way out of the restroom and back to the waiting room, letting out a sigh of relief as she saw Alex sitting in one of the chairs waiting for her.  Y/N gave her a soft smile, sitting in the empty chair next to her before leaning back into the plastic cushioning.  

For a few minutes, she stayed silent.  Both of them did.  There were no words they could say that would comfort the other.  They both felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, knowing that it should have been one of them that was on that operating table, not Spencer.  

Spencer could do no wrong in either of their eyes.  He was a protector and a lover.  He didn’t kill anyone unless someone else was in trouble.  He hated having to use his gun unless it was necessary.  He always tried to talk people down as a first option, even if they came at him with a knife.  

“He’s gonna be okay,” Alex assured her softly, her focus trained on a stack of untouched medical and gossip magazines across from them.  She didn’t rest a reassuring hand on her shoulder, she didn’t try to give her a hug - not that she needed either.  Her presence was all she needed right now, and that was enough. 

Those were the only words spoken between them until the most colorful woman entered the hospital a little over an hour later, looking around nervously and curiously before her eyes landed on the two women in the waiting area.  She walked quickly over to them, the clicking of her heels being the only sound in the room in the early hours of the morning. 

“Any news?” she asked the two of them, digging into her purse before pulling out a toothbrush and toothpaste before handing it to Y/N.  She gave her friend a soft smile, sticking the two items in her back pocket before shaking her head. 

“No, not yet,” she said, clearing her throat as she checked the time on her phone.  “They took him in a little over two hours ago.  They should be almost done, ideally,” she added, folding her arms across her chest as she looked around the room.  Only a few other people were there - an older couple who looked like they were grieving, a small family who looked anxious (but in a good way), and a middle aged man and what looked like his young daughter.  Most of them were tired and exhausted.  No one could really blame them.  

“He’ll be alright.  He has to be.  It’s Spencer,”  Penelope told her, sitting down next to her before resting a hand on her knee.  The anxious wife gave her a smile, though anyone who could see her could tell it wasn’t genuine; it wasn’t her normal smile, one that would light up a room like a Christmas tree.  

As if on cue, one of the doctor’s came into the waiting area, one of his hands shoved into the pocket of his lab coat while his stethoscope hung loosely around his neck.  

"Y/N Reid?” he called out, reading the name off of a clipboard before looking up around the room.  She stood up quickly and made her way towards the doctor.  She held her arms crossed over her chest, sniffling a bit before shifting all of her weight onto her right foot.

“Is he okay?”  She wanted to ask if he was alive, that was all she cared about right now.  But she thought he was too selfish to ask that, so she asked the next best question.  The doctor softly nodded, and Y/N let out a heavy sigh she hadn’t realized she was holding in. 

“He’s stable.  He flat-lined when he was on the table, but he’s alright now.  A few centimetres to the right and he would’ve died.  He was very lucky,” the doctor informed them.  She squeezed her arm a bit as she listened to him, desperately wishing she was squeezing his hand instead.  However, she nodded along as he spoke, telling her about his condition and how long it would be until he could be discharged. 

“When can I see him?” she managed to croak out, her nose scrunching up a bit as the smell of the hospital finally caught up with her.  She had been so focused on Spencer, she hadn’t paid attention to anything else, including the sickly intoxicating scent of the sterilized building. 

“He’s still asleep, but you can come back to his room.  We can’t say how long it’ll be before he’s awake, so it could be awhile if you need to go-”

“I’m not leaving until he’s awake,” she said a bit too quickly, mentally kicking herself as she thought of how rude she probably sounded.  The doctor, thankfully, nodded understandingly, before leading her back towards where his room was.  

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she followed him quickly, looking back towards Alex and Penelope before nodding back towards his room, indicating that they should come as well.  Penelope gathered up her purse and offered her hand out to Alex before the two of them hurried behind her. 

It was a short walk from the waiting area back to the post-op room where he was resting, but to Y/N, the trek felt like it took hours.  Her body had been drained of all of her energy, and she wanted nothing more than to take him home, back to Washington, D.C., back to their house they had just bought and back to their bed.  She wanted to make him dinner again, to pick out his suit for the day while he picked out a pair of mismatched socks that only the two of them would ever see.  She wanted to sit on the couch and watch Doctor Who and Star Trek with him, listening to him make small comments about the science and physics behind every little detail and why it is or isn’t possible. 

But it wasn’t about her right now. 

The doctor pushed the door open carefully so as to not disturb the sleeping Boy Wonder, letting the three of them in before disappearing down the hall yet again.  His wife quickly made her way to his side, her hand lacing with his limp, nearly lifeless one as she sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs much like the one she had been in for the past few hours.  Garcia reached into her bag, setting up a few little figurines from some of his favorite sci-fi shows on the table in front of him.  Blake sat in one of the seats across from the bed, crossing one leg over the other as she watched Spencer patiently. None of them made a sound, hardly took a breath, as if their presence would wake him up immediately.

It didn’t take long for the three exhausted women to fall asleep, despite the freezing room and hardly cushioned chairs.  

Spencer had woken up about an hour after they all fell into their deep slumber, smiling weakly at the sight of some of his closest friends waiting for him.  He used his free hand to rub at his eye tiredly, the slight movement of his body enough to wake up Y/N, who hadn’t let his hand go even as she slept. 

She let out a heavy sigh as she saw he was awake, letting her head rest against their intertwined hands.  “You’re okay,” she breathed out, kissing his knuckles softly before she looked up at him.  Her eyelids were heavy, her short nap not nearly long enough to make up for the drowsy feeling that overwhelmed her body.  

“You told me I would be, didn’t you?” he said in a groggy voice, slowly and carefully pulling their hands up to his mouth to kiss the back of her hand.  She smiled brightly at his comment, running a hand back through her hair with her free hand.  

“Get some sleep, angel.  You look worse than I do - which is saying something, considering I was just shot in the neck,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

He always knew that she took everything to heart, especially when it came to him.  Even when they started dating - almost eight years ago by now - she was overprotective of him.  Whenever he put himself in danger (which was far more frequently than she would have preferred), she did everything in her power to keep him safe.  So, he knew that right now, she probably was physically pained to see him like this, that she wasn’t going to get a good night’s sleep until she knew that he was going to be alright. 

“I’ll be fine.  Can I get you something?  They have Jell-O downstairs, some pudding, I think Garcia brought-”

“Y/N.”  His voice was as firm as it could be, but it came out more like a plea.  She looked down at him, her eyebrows knitted together as she waited for him to continue.  

“We both need rest, alright?  I’ll take you up on your offer for Jell-O in a few hours, but you and I both need sleep, okay?” he told her, squeezing her hand three times softly.  She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she listened, but nodded after a few moments.  

He scooted over on the small bed until his side was pressed against the plastic rail that prevented him from falling off.  He patted the now empty spot on the firm mattress, tugging on his wife’s hand softly to pull her up to him.  She smiled softly at his offer, standing up and sliding into the bed next to him.  She thanked whatever God there was that he was the width of a toothpick, or else both of them would have never fit on that bed.

The second she was next to him for the first time in more hours than either of them would like, he pulled her flush against him with the rest of the strength he had.  She rested her head on his flat chest, taking in the familiar scent of coffee and old books that followed him no matter where he went.  Her arms delicately wrapped around him, not wanting to hurt him in case any part of him besides his neck was still sore.  He did the same to her, letting out a sigh as he let his head rest against the rock-like pillow the hospital had provided for him. 

Spencer fell asleep almost instantly, easily exhausted from everything he had gone through that day.  Y/N, however, couldn’t sleep for the life of her.  She worried that if she closed her eyes, something else would happen to him.  

Instead, she listened to the steady sound of his heartbeat, a sound she’d forever be grateful for being able to hear.  She assumed that was what kept her up - the beautiful sound of his heart that had stopped for only a few moments, the sound that proved to her that he was alive and that he was okay.  

ー

Alex was the first of the three to wake up.  Y/N looked at the digital clock on the bedside table once she noticed the older woman stirring, noting that it was just past three A.M.  Blake sat silently in her chair, checking any emails and calls she had missed from the team.

Penelope was next.  She gave the couple a bright smile as she saw Y/N curled up next to the doctor in his hospital bed.  She fixed the figurines she had set out earlier just to make sure they were perfect for him, before sitting down in her seat again, patiently waiting for him to wake up so she could smother him in hugs and affection, grateful he was alive. 

Spencer awoke for the second time just before four o’clock, rubbing tiredly at his eyes as he looked around at the surprisingly bright room considering the hour.  Penelope rushed to his side, checking over his face and his injury to make sure he was alright.  Y/N was forced to get off the bed as Penelope called for the nurse, who took his vitals quickly so he could get some more rest. 

Once she was sure that Spencer was alright, Penelope insisted that Blake head back to the team to help them catch the people who had done this.  Now that Spencer was involved, it was personal, and the BAU wouldn’t stop until they caught whoever had done this.  

Penelope had flipped open her laptop so she could help the team from the hospital, and Y/N had left to get some snacks for Spencer, wanting him to be as comfortable as possible.  

It wasn’t supposed to take long, five minutes max, but when the fire alarm went off, she was ushered out of the building, her arms full of Jell-O and banana pudding.  

She tried to look around for Penelope and Spencer, but she grossly underestimated how many people a Texas hospital housed.  She tapped her foot anxiously against the concrete as she waited for them to be in the clear to head back inside, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she looked at the other patients and families waiting.  

She worried her husband was cold and uncomfortable, just wanting to rest a little more and have a snack.  She worried that they weren’t able to get out of the hospital, that something had happened to them (despite her not being able to see any smoke or fire coming from the large building.)  

The second they were permitted back into the building, Y/N ran to the elevators, pressing the button for the fourth floor quickly and repeatedly until the large metal doors closed, her feet tapping against the metal flooring as she held tightly onto the food she had nearly forgotten about by that point. 

She snuck through the crack in the door once the elevator cart had come to a full stop, making her way through the halls as she searched for her husband's room.  She could never understand why hospitals always seemed so hard to navigate.  She had just made it down to the nurse’s station when she heard the sound that repulsed her, making her nearly lose her balance and her knees buckle. 

Gunshots. 

She dropped the little packages of food as she bolted down the hall, every last drop of adrenaline propelling her forward towards the sound that rang in her ears.  She found herself in the doorway of Spencer’s room, letting out a heavy sigh as she saw Spencer safe and sat up in his hospital bed.  

She looked down at her feet to see a nurse, a gun by his hand and a syringe by the other.  When Y/N looked up again, she saw Garcia holding her husband’s revolver with shaking hands, Spencer carefully taking it from her before tossing it over towards his bag of clothes. 

“...You saved my life,” Spencer breathed out to Penelope, hardly noticing his wife had entered the room.  “Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard that. It makes it better.  Thank you for saying that.”

“Thank you for doing it,” he said to her, giving her a soft smile before running a hand back through his tousled hair.  

Penelope looked up as Y/N arrived at Spencer’s side, looking between the two of them as the doctor’s wife awaited an explanation as to why Reid had to be saved twice in less than twenty-four hours.

“That guy… he was disguised as a nurse.  He tried to give me carbenicillin.  We tried to tell him I’m allergic, but he didn’t listen,” he explained, still visibly out of breath.  She couldn’t blame him; he’d been through too much for him to not feel drained.  She grabbed a water bottle Penelope had gotten for them earlier when she had first arrived, twisting off the cap before handing it to Spencer and looking towards Garcia. 

“Spencer hit it out of his hand, but then he drew his gun, and I didn’t know what to do so I just grabbed his gun and squeezed and now I feel like I can’t hear anything,” she explained in one breath, sitting down next to him as she tried to process the entire situation.  Y/N looked down to Spencer, checking him over quickly to subconsciously make sure he was alright. 

She wouldn’t have been able to take it if he had been shot again. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he assured his wife, reaching out to hold her hand.  She sat at the edge of his bed, lacing their fingers together as she let out a soft sigh when he gave her a smile.  

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, princess,” he teased her, doing his best to make light of the situation.  Leave it to Dr. Spencer Reid to try and joke about his near-death experiences.  She rolled her eyes, leaning over and kissing the top of his head softly. 

“I’m never leaving your side again,” she told him, almost as a promise to herself.  He grinned up at her, chuckling weakly as he laid back against the pillows.  

“You say it like I would have a problem with that,” he smiled, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.  Despite all he had been through that day, the bright glow of the LED lights in the room highlighted Spencer’s face perfectly, and if it weren’t with the large bandage on his neck with a maroon spot, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell he had gotten shot.  

“C’mere,” he said to her, opening his arms out as he made room for her in the small bed yet again.  She laughed a little bit, always loving how affectionate he would be when no one else was (or, in this case, very few people were) around.  He was like a giant puppy that thrived off of cuddles and kisses.  She could never complain, though. 

She made her way into the spot he had made next to him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before finding comfort against his warm, thin body.  Her head rested on his chest once again, waiting a few moments to make sure she wasn’t hurting him before finally letting herself settle down.  His arm wrapped around her to keep her close while her fingers traced abstract shapes on his clothed chest, letting out a deep sigh as they sat there in silence.  

Garcia had since left the room with the nurses who had escorted the “nurse” out of the room and down to surgery, leaving it to just be the two of them in the hospital room, the only sounds being their soft, heavy breaths and the hum of the bright lights neither of them could be bothered to turn off. 

It didn’t take long for the two of them to fall asleep.  Maybe it was the fact that they were finally alone together.  Maybe it was the fact that she finally really knew he was safe, that the people who were trying to hurt him were being locked away or in surgery, where they couldn’t get to him.  Either way, she let the buzzing hum of the lights lull her to sleep, letting herself relax in his touch for the first time in nearly twenty-four hours. 

They both were as safe as they could be, and it was the most comforting feeling in the world. 

@justkurotingz​

[craby-bouquet]

Mate

Choi Seungcheol x reader

Werewolf!AU

2k words

Masterlist | Seventeen masterlist

You ran. Panting at this point. Was he still behind you? Had he given up? You didn’t know, but you knew it would be foolish to turn around and check.

It was surprising he hadn’t caught up yet, he seemed so much faster than you were. Then again, every werewolf would win against you. They were known for being fast creatures.

You hated yourself for not listening to your mother. Why did you have to get off the path just to take a short cut? Why didn’t you just walk a little longer like she always said? 

Your lungs were burning, you knew you couldn’t go very much longer, you already slowed down tremendously. But you hadn’t heard any footsteps behind you for a while. Maybe he lost interest? Maybe he decided you weren’t worth it and looked for some easier pray to catch?

Something swung down from above you, making you fall back on the floor in shock.

“Gotcha!” the werewolf yelled, he seemed happy, as if catching you was a big game to him.

He was hanging upside down from a tree branch, watching you as you tried to crawl back, completely out of breath. The moment he jumped off the branch and walked up to you, you kind of decided to just let him win. You wouldn’t be able to get away anymore.

Your hand felt a stick, and before you could realise it, you swung it to him, hitting him against his side. It didn’t seem to hurt him, it didn’t seem to bother him at all. But he stood still, probably surprised that you would do something like that. It gave you just enough time to scramble back to your feet and start running again.

You heard him laugh from behind you “Running away just makes it more fun for me, you know! How about I’ll count to ten, and you run and hide?” 

You didn’t respond, just ran.

“One..!” you heard him yell loudly so you could still hear him, “Two..!”

You were out of breath once again, blisters on your feet. Why were you still trying to get away? You knew you couldn’t.

The moment he screamed ‘Ten’ you hoped you would be far enough for him to at least take a while. But no, he was right behind you in no time.

He jumped you, throwing you on the warm, summer ground. A root right to your ribs. 

He turned you on your back, as his legs were wrapped around you. Tears started rolling down your eyes, this was it.

The man gasped quite dramatically, and lowered the hand he was about to scratch you with.

He just sat there, on top of you, looking at you for the longest time while you were waiting for him to strike. This was the first time you actually saw his face, he was pretty, a scar on his right cheek, thick lips with little fangs sticking through them and long eyelashes. His hair was disheveled from running and climbing and whatever he did, but he was very handsome indeed. 

And his eyes. Your heart started beating ten times faster as your eyes locked, he had been looking at your eyes the entire time he’d been silent, but you hadn’t looked into his until now. It was strange, a strange, warm feeling flood your veins, made your head all spinny. It was like his eyes drowned you, but in a good way, weirdly.

The wolf suddenly jumped off of you and bowed deeply, “I am so sorry, I had no idea it would be you! How could I have known? I’ve been waiting for so long, and suddenly you’re here?” He rambled, “And, wow, you truly are gorgeous! I am such a lucky wolf, unbelievable!”

You just layed on the ground, your elbows supporting you, your ribs bruised from the root you fell on. You had no clue what was going on.

He offered his hand “Oh! Let me help you get up.”

You didn’t take it, you weren’t gonna touch him, he just threw you on the ground, yelling that he would eat you. You instead got on your sore feet by yourself, almost falling down again. Your legs were too tired to stand up properly. You leaned against a tree “Aren’t you going to eat me?” 

He scoffed, as if the entire hour before this didn’t happen at all, “Eat you? Are you crazy? Of course I’m not going to eat you.”

“Well, you kind of told me you would not too long ago. Forgive me for being confused.” 

He made a dramatic hand movement, “That was then, this is now. I didn’t know who you were, back then. And I apologize deeply for scaring you like that.”

What was this whole ‘Who you were’ thing all about? “Have we met before?” you were sure you hadn’t.

“In the flesh? No. But in a dream perhaps. You certainly were in my dreams, granted I didn’t know what you looked like but wow! I dreamt about this particular moment so many times! I must admit: this is not, per se, how I pictured it, I pictured it more romantic. A sunrise, maybe. Bumping into each other during our morning walks, of course I pictured you as a wolf yourself, considering not many wolfs go with other creatures. But no matter, you are perfect regardless of how I met you or what you are.” 

That creeped you out, what on earth was he talking about?

“Oh! Where are my manners!?” he bowed deeply again, "My name is Choi Seungcheol, son of the chief of a eastern wolf pack. And it truly is a pleasure to meet you. Once again, my apologies for scaring you, I hope you are not too scarred?”

You weren’t sure what to do with this creep, should hit him with a stick again? Run away? Scream? You felt your feet take little steps back automatically. 

He realised you did and frowned, “You feel it too, right? Our connection?”

You scoffed “What connection? We don’t have a connection.” 

He smiled patiently “Yes we do. We’re mates. Come on, you must feel it too. The moment you looked in my eyes it was like you were reborn, like your heart stopped while beating even louder, like warmth spread through your entire body? You know… The connection..?” 

For some reason your heart believed him, but your head couldn’t get around that whole idea. Stupid. Your legs clearly thought the same, because the moment the wolf, Seungcheol, had his head turned away only slightly, they started running the opposite direction. Yes, they hurt, but they weren’t going to give in. Not now.

And then they did. You felt a crack in your knee, before falling over and hitting your head against something hard.

When you woke up, eyes still closed, you knew it had all been some weird dream and you would wake up in your own bed, get ready to go to your grandma and stay on the path. But that thought faded away when you heard voices you didn’t recognize, and as you opened your eyes, you were in some weird room you didn’t know. 

Your leg was bound, and kind of hurt. Where were you?

You got up as quickly as you could, and stumbled to the door. You cracked it open a little so you could look at your surroundings at least a little bit, but it flew right open the moment you realised where you were. 

You were in a building in a tree, and there were more of those around, all on slightly different heights, and all connected by bridges. The ground was very far down, but you could already see it was also packed with little houses. Everywhere around you were werewolves, they didn’t seem to have noticed you yet, but you knew that when they would you were in big trouble. How on earth were you going to escape?

One male werewolf walked right passed you, nodding his head at you politely “Mornin’.”

You nodded back, weirded out. You quickly checked your head and butt, to see if you turned into a werewolf yourself overnight. Impossible, you knew, but you needed to be sure. No ears, no tail. Great.

You took a deep breath as you stumbled to the railing across the walkway. You held on to it, trying to look as normal as you could, trying not to limp, as you slowly and carefully walked down the spiraling staircase that twisted around the tree. You had to go, you had to get away. These people were dangerous.

But every wolf you ran into just greeted you politely.

And then he stood in front of you. You remembered his name, Choi Seungcheol. The breathtaking eyes, locking you in once again, making your heart skip a beat and your head all spinny. 

He smiled greatly when he saw you “I was just coming up to check on you! I’m glad to see you’re awake, and that your leg is doing better.” 

You didn’t respond, just looked at him.

“It is doing better right?” he frowned, suspiciously looking at your knee.

“How did it get hurt?” you asked silently.

He gently brushed a stray hair from your face “You don’t remember..?”

You shook your head.

He shrugged and started walking down the stairs casually, probably expecting you to walk with him. But you stood still.

“Well, you ran away and then you collapsed because something happened to your knee.” He stopped the moment he realized you weren’t walking with him, looking down at your knee again “It’s not better, is it?”

You shrugged.

He walked back up to you, offering you to put his arm around you for support “Should I help?”

You pushed his arm away “Don’t touch me.”

He nodded while taking a step back “Of course, sorry.”

You took a deep breath as you leaned on the railing again and started walking down slowly.

“So… do you remember what I said before you fell..?” 

You knew he was talking about the whole mate thing, but you didn’t want to talk about that. You knew he was right, the undeniable, and annoying, feelings you had for this dude you never met, kind of gave it away.

But you shrugged again “All I remember is you chasing me, wanting to eat me.”

He clicked his tongue “Yeah… I really am sorry about that. And, well, I was kind of hoping we could, you know, start over? If I had wanted to eat you, I would have done it already.”

You didn’t respond, just kept walking.

“Anyway… You know us werewolves have mates, right?” he asked, not waiting for a reaction, “Well, usually our mates are wolves, it doesn’t happen very often that a mate is a different creature. But you and me, we are mates. Which basically means we our each other’s everything. Now, back in the forest, I didn’t looked in your eyes yet, so yes, you were my prey… But the moment our eyes met the world stopped, you know?” 

You sighed and turned around to face him, but you avoided his eyes “How do I know you’re not lying?”

“Look into my eyes and tell me what you feel.” 

“Alright, I give up! I did feel the same thing. I just can’t fathom it, I don’t even know you! How can I love you?”

He clearly tried to hide his excitement “It’s just a feeling. What we should do now is get to know each other. Like it or not, we’re stuck together.”

You sighed “My mother is going to be so pissed.”

But not you. Sure, it was gonna take some getting used to, but Seungcheol seemed like a sweet guy, and your feelings for him were undeniable.

Masterlist | Seventeen masterlist

[bgnmagic]

Whiskered Away

Summary: Arthur gets sent out to see the world after angering the King. He's not given much notice and is literally escorted out of the kingdom. Merlin was away visiting his mum at the time and is very upset to learn of his journey without him. So, Merlin sets off to find Arthur, he has to make sure the clotpole survives his adventure away from Camelot. Enough times passes that both Arthur and Merlin change in appearance.Why shave when you're on an adventure?  Beware beards abound!! XD -- Merlin could hardly believe his eyes, there, on the dirt path not fifty paces ahead of him was Arthur. The past two months of searching for his friend and failing had finally come to an end. Sighing in relief Merlin called out Arthur’s name. However, he was exhausted and the wind carried his weak voice away before it reached the intended target. Blast it all Merlin would have to run to catch him now.

Trying again he yelled louder, this at least got Arthur to stop the horse he was riding. Then, Arthur turned around and Merlin skidded to a halt. Life was apparently cruel, the man who turned had a scruffy beard and his blond hair was too long. It wasn’t Arthur after all.

Breathing heavily from running so fast Merlin worked to catch his breath. “Sorry – sorry I thought you were – someone else,” he managed. “I didn’t mean to shou--.” Merlin didn’t finish his thought as he gaped at the man before him. The blue eyes currently staring at him in shock were definitely Arthur’s, maybe it was really him. Renewed hope sprang through his veins. Merlin stumbled forward slightly and continued to look longingly at his prince.

“Merlin?!” Arthur exclaimed after a few seconds. “Dear gods man you don’t look like yourself at all!”

In hindsight Merlin had forgotten his own appearance. He’d foregone shaving on his journey as well. Unsure what his hair looked like Merlin self-consciously pat it down. “Sire,” he offered by way of an answer.

Arthur simply barked out a laugh and jumped off his horse, the other men he was with also halted and observed with neutral expressions. Merlin found himself being drawn into a strong, blessedly warm hug a moment later. Wrapping his arms around Arthur’s back Merlin allowed his mind to still. It had been a hard journey thus far to find Arthur, and now it was over.

“What are you doing here? Did you not get my note?” Arthur asked once they’d separated.

“Note? Wha? No, I’ve been searching for you since Uther sent you away when I was visiting my mum!” Merlin exclaimed, still upset at what Uther had done.

“Have you been trying to find me this whole time? Merlin, it’s been nearly two months!”

Nodding sheepishly Merlin let out a big breath, “I came back from my mum’s only to find out you’d been sent on some bizarre character building quest. I left before I even found out all the details.”

“There isn’t much to tell Merlin, father got mad at me for defending a good cause during a council meeting and decided I needed to learn more respect and sent me away to see more of the world.”

“How much more?!” Merlin lamented. “This is Germania for heaven’s sake. It took me nearly a month to even get on this bloody continent.”

“Ahh yes, well you didn’t have the lovely escort of knights I did to take me to the coast and make sure I got on a boat, did you?” Arthur grumbled.

“What did you say in your note?” Merlin asked suddenly curious of what he’d missed.

“Nothing truly special only that I had knights with me for protection and for you not to worry. I know how you get. I only intended to go as far as France but I got a little distracted.”

Smiling slightly at how Arthur would find purpose even when he’d clearly been trying to spite his father. “Now what?” Merlin asked as he glanced around to the other men in his small party. “I don’t think those are the knights you left with,” he noted with a raised eyebrow.

“Huh? Oh, the knights, yes, I ditched them as soon as the boat landed. Boring lot they were not very adventurous. Never mind them I found new friends, join us; we were attempting to find a camp site for the night. Do you not have a horse?”

“I’m not royalty like you Arthur, I can’t afford such things.”

“No matter, you can share with me. You look positively worn out. I hardly recognized you with all that hair going every which way.”

“Say’s you, who’s sporting an even fluffy beard than me.”

“You’re not around to shave my face now are you, come along,” Arthur ordered as he pushed them towards his horse.

Introductions were made of the other two men in the company but Merlin was too tired to really latch onto their names. One may have been called Randy and the other sounded like Marcus or Bracus. The only thing Merlin picked up on was one of them kept staring at him. Ignoring the attention Merlin held fast to the back of Arthur’s cloak and focused on not falling off. Now that Merlin was off his feet an overwhelming tiredness took hold.

Merlin managed to stay awake until they found a suitable place to stop and bed down for the night. It probably wouldn’t have been a very nice initial meeting to fall off the horse and crack his head open. Staying quiet Merlin knelt and began to unpack his own things. The other three men seemed to have a routine and Merlin was slightly jealous he’d been left out. Arthur was his friend but now he felt oddly out of place.

Wondering what he could help with Merlin forced his aching limbs to move as he stood. “Can I hel--.” Merlin’s breath caught in his throat mid-sentence. The man, Marcus or something, the one who’d kept staring at him had just used magic to light the fire. Absolutely no one seemed to care and that made Merlin very uncomfortable.

In a panic he glanced towards Arthur who was putting up a makeshift tent.  Had he not seen? With wide eyes Merlin whipped his head back around to Marcus. The man still had his head bent down and was carrying on like it was perfectly normal to use magic out in the open.

“What, Merlin?” Arthur asked as he spun around. “Sit down, you look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Shouldn’t I – help?” Merlin tried again attempting to not look nervous.

Arthur, damn him, picked up on his distress and crossed the short distance between them in a two quick strides. “You need to sit down, I don’t want you falling into the fire,” he replied while reaching out to guide him down to the ground.

“Sorry, I think I startled him starting the fire.” The other sorcerer offered by way of explanation.

“Oh shit, yeah, Marcus knows magic, um,” Arthur trailed off from his crouched position. “That must be a little jarring to see since, well, because of the laws back home and all,” Arthur finished.

“Magic shouldn’t bother him, he’s like me. I literally meant I started the fire without warning and he flinched, is all.”” Marcus added as he calmly setup a cooking pot over the fire.

Arthur’s full attention was on him an instant. The grip on his arm becoming almost painful as Arthur stared at him. “Is this true?”

Only able to nod due to his nerves, Merlin waited to see what Arthur would do.

“Fuck, Merlin. So you weren’t lying that day when you said you had magic in front of the entire council.” By now Arthur had released his grip and had stood up walking away in a daze.

“It’s no wonder he didn’t tell you Arty, from what you’ve said the punishment for magic back home is nasty,” Marcus supplied.

“How’d you know?” Merlin asked in a hoarse whisper.

“The protection spell you cast on your person is very strong,” said Marcus simply.

“Can I not do anything without the aid of magic!” Arthur bellowed after a beat. “I was in this place for barely a week when I met Marcus. He’s saved my skin several times already and now I’m realizing you’ve done the same thing.”

“Sorry,” Merlin rasped automatically. Hiding his magic for so long had done a number on his mental health. The first reaction to being discovered was fear and the worry of rejection. This was not how he imagined Arthur finding out.

“Oi, I think you might want to tell him it’s alright, he’s lookin’ a little pale,” the man named Randy pointed out as he walked closer and nudged Arthur in the arm.

“What? But he’s lied to me!” Arthur answered in defense. “For years!”

Merlin wanted to say something but he was having a bit of a panic attack. They were all talking about him like he wasn’t even there.

“And what else would he do? You said it yourself Arty, magic users get burned at the stake where you come from.”

Arthur deflated somewhat at that comment. Merlin watched and prayed Arthur would forgive him for lying. It wasn’t like he’d done it out of malice.

“It does fit with all the stories you’ve told us,” Marcus continued on as he cut up a few items for the stew he was making. “Merlin seems like he’s been your magic guardian since you two met.”

Merlin couldn’t help but yelp when Arthur suddenly plopped down right next to him on the grass. “You are to tell me everything, and I mean everything when we have a moment alone.”

Sorry was all Merlin could manage as he sat looking at the fire. He didn’t even want to know what came next. Arthur was clearly furious and Merlin didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

“He’s still looking a little peaky there, you might wanna tell him he’s not gonna die by your hand,” Randy chimed in.

“You wouldn’t have them burn me would you?” Merlin asked in a rush. Dying by another’s hand would count as Arthur not doing it.  

Arthur groaned and roughly ran his fingers through his beard, “Merlin, I won’t hurt you, no one will. You do realize I’ve spent the last two months hanging out with Marcus and that’s changed my opinion on some things. I’m just fucking pissed that you lied to me so let me deal with that for now okay? ”

The night progressed slowly after that. Merlin didn’t move from his spot but neither did Arthur. They sat nearly touching shoulders and ate in silence. Randy and Marcus went about preparing camp but remained quiet. After what felt like an hour Arthur leaned close and grabbed Merlin’s arm.

“Did you not trust me?” he asked with a pained expression.

Merlin couldn’t shake his head fast enough, “No! it’s not that, I mean I did wonder what you’d do to me if you found out, considering how the king feels about magic but I do trust you, I swear it!”

“Then why keep it from me?”

“I was scared, it’s not like I could go back in time to undo things if it didn’t work out. Every time I wanted to tell you, something would happen and you’d hate magic even more.”

“Oh, Merlin,” Arthur murmured. The prince sighed heavily and let go, letting his hand drop to the ground.

Nothing more was said after that, Merlin simply watched the flames lick at the wood in the fire. Marcus broke the quiet some time later announcing that they should all get some rest. Merlin nodded and went to crawl over to his bedroll, his being the only one out in the elements and not under a small tent.

A hand on his elbow stopped him. “Come on, you can share my tent, the extra body heat will do you good.”

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked of Arthur as he waited for confirmation.

Arthur’s answer was to tug him over to the tent and push his shoulders through the flap. The bedroll was tossed in next and Merlin went about setting it up. The space was small and neither of them would have room to do much else but lie directly next to each other.

It took several, long awkward minutes before they were able to situate. There was no light and Merlin could only feel the puffs of breaths coming from Arthur. He was too upset to sleep despite his tiredness. What if things didn’t go back to the way they were? Merlin didn’t think he could live life on edge like this; it was no different than hiding his magic. He was always in the wrong it seemed.

“If you don’t sleep Merlin, you’ll regret it in the morning,” Arthur huffed quietly.

“I can’t,” Merlin whispered back.

“Still scared of what I think of your magic?”

“Yes,” Merlin offered quickly.

“What exactly are you worried about?”

“I don’t want things to change between us.”

Arthur sighed deeply before he responded, “They’ve already changed Merlin that was inevitable.”

“Oh, -- what will happen to me when we go back?”

“You’d willingly go back with me knowing the laws of Camelot?” Arthur asked.

“You were, are, my friend Arthur. I have faith that you’ll become a great king in the future and I want to do my part in helping you achieve that goal.”

“With magic, I suppose?”

“With whatever it takes, magic, being there for you, anything you need.”

Merlin, why do you insist upon being so damned kind hearted!” Arthur exclaimed in a forced whisper.

“I just told you, clotpole.” Merlin was unprepared for the arm that flew out and smacked his ribs. Gasping at the sting he tried to figure out if Arthur was still mad at him or not.

“Cheeky bugger, listen, we are still talking later about all of this, but for now you need to rest. I can’t have my manservant falling over on our next quest.”

“Of course my lord,” Merlin offered with just a hint of sarcasm, he didn’t want to push his luck.

Arthur snorted in response, perhaps his tactics were working. “Idiot, go to sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”

Closing his eyes Merlin hoped his brain would slow down enough to actually accomplish something akin to sleep. “Sorry for lying, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he offered humbly in one last effort to make Arthur understand his feelings.

“Merlin, I forgive you, but seriously go to fucking sleep,” Arthur ordered with another light shove to his ribs.

Upon order of his future king Merlin temporarily let go of his worries and drifted off.

--

“Arty – Arthur?”

Taking a deep breath Arthur lifted his head to see who had called his name. Most likely Marcus since he was the only one that called him Arty. “S’everything okay?” he asked once he spotted the other man peering in through the tent flap.

“That’s what I was going to ask you, it’s nearly midday and you both are still asleep.”

Turning to check on Merlin, Arthur noted that he was still in a deep slumber. He’d looked exhausted the night before it was no wonder Merlin was sleeping so well now. Suddenly the thought came to Arthur that Merlin might be ill. Reaching out he felt Merlin’s forehead, the temperature seemed normal.

“Sorry for being late, I’ll get him up and we’ll get going.”

Marcus held up his hand and shook his head, “No need, he clearly needed to recoup. Let him rest we can take today to prepare for the mission.”

Arthur agreed and lay back down.  He could hear Marcus’ footsteps outside but it was peaceful otherwise. Rolling over slightly Arthur took the time to really check on Merlin. The young man had turned over during the night and was asleep on his stomach. The journey Merlin had taken so far had tanned his pale skin, it also added a few wrinkles here there, but that may have been stress induced.

Wondering whether Merlin’s magic would change things for the worse, Arthur began to think of all the times he’d made it out of a situation that should have killed him. After a few minutes he had to stop, it was alarming how often Merlin had been there, a seemingly innocent bystander, when he was nothing of the like.

After spending two months with Marcus, Arthur’s views on magic had changed.  They’d been thrown together at the right moment and Arthur had been unable to hate the man. He was a good person, just like Merlin. The first few weeks were rough trying to adapt to trusting in someone with magic but Arthur had persevered.  Now it seemed fate had simply prepared him for Merlin’s reality. One with magic.

Unsure of how he would have reacted back home Arthur hoped he would have been open minded, but that wasn’t a given. Uther’s hatred of anything magic had permeated his very being from a young age. That sort of conditioning was hard to shake.  

“Shit! Oh, it’s just you,” Merlin exclaimed suddenly.

Arthur had flinched when Merlin awoke but his friend hadn’t commented on it yet. Good, maybe he didn’t see.  “Yes, its me, who did you think it would be?”

Merlin yawned and stretched, almost like a cat, before rolling over on his back. “I wasn’t sure; I just saw the fuzzy beard and forgot it was you.”

“I’m not a barbarian Merlin, no need to excite yourself.”

“More like Neanderthal,” Merlin muttered around another yawn.

“What?! Merlin!” Arthur shouted before dragging the groggy man closer and giving him a noogie. Merlin shouted in surprise but could only squirm to get away, Arthur was stronger. “You were saying?”

“I yield!” Merlin yelled a second later.

The moment Arthur released his hold Merlin bolted up and crawled out of the tent, apparently he was awake now. Smirking at how he missed picking on his manservant, Arthur followed him out into the open air. Might as well get the day started. They had an attack to plan.

--

Merlin fell to the ground panting heavily, he was so tired. Having gone off in search of Arthur months earlier, Merlin had never dreamed he’d be able to stand by his prince’s side and use magic openly. Well, he wasn’t currently standing at the moment; he was working on not passing out. Hands on his shoulder forced Merlin to look up. Arthur was there in his line of vision grinning like a loon.

“We did it, we won Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed.

Happy that Arthur was safe and seemingly not upset at seeing Merlin use a massive amount of magic, he toppled over in the grass and smiled.

“Hey, don’t pass out; are you going to pass out? Shit, Merlin are you alright?” Arthur asked in a panic.

“M’fine, let me rest, we just took down an entire army of men.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you or your magic.”

Relief flooded over Merlin, Arthur truly accepted him, magic and all. Marcus’ voice sounded off in the distance, he sounded happy as well. Arthur had extended his trip away from home in order to help Marcus rid his village of invaders. The other sorcerer had seen in Arthur what Merlin always knew was there, a great leader and good man.

Despite Marcus being a magic user Arthur had looked past his feelings on the matter and offered to help. Merlin’s heart swelled in pride at the thought. Camelot would have a great and gracious king when the time came.  Letting his eyes slip closed Merlin let the warmth of the sun touch his skin. The next task was the journey home. It was time.

--

“I still don’t see why you haven’t let me shave that thing off your face yet,” Merlin sighed as they rode along towards Camelot. “You let me trim your hair when we arrived a week ago, why wait on this?”

“I think it’s a good disguise don’t you? No one seems to know who I am,” Arthur answered smirking. “Besides, I didn’t want to bother until we were closer to home. It’s hard enough to keep things trimmed and maintained with the proper supplies, let alone in the middle of the woods.”

“I can use my magic Arthur; its how I keep my stubble in check.”

“Yes, yes, but you have a baby face, it’s understandable that you need to use such measures.”  

“Excuse me? I have a what?”

“You heard me, a baby face, soft and --.” Arthur stopped talking when Merlin’s eyes glowed gold and he felt a soft brush of air to his face. “What did you do?” he demanded looking down only to see his blond whiskers scattered across his lap. “Merlin!”

Ripping his gloves off Arthur reached up and still felt his beard in some places. Confused as to what Merlin had done he spurred his horse forward to catch up. “What did you do to me?”

“Nothing terrible sire, I simply cleaned up your beard. I think the new look is quite dashing.”

Feeling his face one more, Arthur could trace the hair along his jaw line, up the sides of his mouth, and across his upper lip. “Did you give me a goatee?”

“Sort of, it’s closer to how Gwaine wears his but I’ve bothered to make yours look kingly.”

“You better not be teasing me Merlin.”

“Never sire, don’t forget I have to look at you too, is there any harm in making the view appealing?”

“Hey! You said my beard looked good!”

“It did, but this is better,” Merlin laughed before sticking out his tongue and spurring his horse onward.

Arthur couldn’t exactly catch Merlin, it didn’t matter they were nearly home.  He’d have enough time to torment his servant later. For now Arthur was content to return to a normal routine. The only thing left to figure out was whether or not to keep his beard.

[isthisthingeven0n]

through the darkness : d.d

brief summary: you’re coming up to graduating college, but its obvious you’re struggling with stress. when it gets very bad, david and everyone are there to help you through it.

word count: 1.5k requested: by a sweet anon - i relate to the idea and fell in love writing it thank you! warnings: idk. swearing, self doubt (how every student has felt at some stage basically) 

* masterlistin’

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism) 

Sitting with your head in your hands, you can feel the morning breeze glide through your window panes. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You mumble to yourself as you sniff quietly, not wanting to wake him up.

All night, you’ve sat at your desk and studied. You’ve reread the same pages over and over in hope some of the information will sink in. But as you close your eyes and try to recite anything, none of it reappears back to you. Not a single page of text is staying in your brain, and that is breaking you piece by piece.

Moving in your bed, David turns to see you. His eyes widen as he sits upright and looks to the spot beside him having remained untouched. “Did you study all night?” He questions with a small yawn as you keep your back turned.

His eyes wander to the series of cans on the floor, the piles of books and papers decorated with post-it notes. Three mugs remain uniform as they all contain various levels of caffeine you tried to consume to stop your eyes closing on you.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You mutter in response as you look straight ahead, seeing the sun rising in front of your very eyes. “Haven’t got time to sleep.” The words leave your lips like a mantra. You knew you could make time to sleep, but you can’t. There’s too much to get done, too much to study and memorise before your final exam.

“Y/n, you gotta let your body shut down.” David speaks out, shuffling across the sheets to perch on the edge of the mattress behind you.

He wants to reach out, take a hold of you in his arms. But he knows better than to force you, he knows you’re struggling and he will avoid any sign of making it worse.

Over the passing weeks, David has seen less and less of you. The happy, loving, funny version of you that he loves. You’ve been replaced by a sleep-deprived student who is sacrificing everything to try and focus.

It isn’t just David who has noticed, everyone else has seen it happen. When he asked Natalie, she explained it’s perfectly normal. How it’s what students tend to do during finals, especially third-year students.

“I’ll sleep soon, I promise.” You lie as you blink rapidly in aid of stopping the heaviness in your face. “I just gotta read this last chapter, make a few notes and I’ll be with you.” You wave him off as your vision zones out from the textbook, the words blurring together.

David opens his mouth to say something, but no words follow. He turns away and rises to his feet and shuts the bathroom door.

As you listen to the shower being turned on, tears flow from your eyes automatically. You bury your mouth into your sleeve to stop the sobs being heard over the water hitting the shower floor.

“God,” you sniff as you sit back upright and wipe your eyes. “just fucking focus.” You mutter forcefully to yourself as you slap your cheek to keep your eyes open. “One chapter, Y/n. One fucking chapter.” Your aggression turns into sadness as tears hit the pages of your book. “Fuck.” You groan as you wipe the tears away, only to see more replacing those you removed from the pages as the ink smudges.

Behind you, David stands with the door open. He heard you swearing to yourself before he stepped into the shower, his concern growing as silence replaced your mutters.

He watches you curl up in your chair, your arm stretching out to grab a book only to see a cup of coffee fall to the ground. “You piece of shit.” Your voice becomes louder as you stand upright and turn to see David stood there.

Neither of you speaks up, you both remain still for a split second before he walks over and holds you close in his arms.

David can feel his chest becoming damp from your tears, but he keeps a tight hold of you, refusing to let you go just yet. “I don’t know if I can do it, Dave.” You admit through your sobs. “I’m so tired, nothing is happening and I’m scared I’m going to fail after all of this.” You state through shallow breaths as your words get hitched in your throat.

“Come on,” David whispers as he kisses the top of your head, shuffling you into the bathroom with him. 

Holding your hand, David sits you down on the closed toilet seat and takes your make up wipes. He slowly helps remove the remains of last nights makeup and turns the shower on. With ease, he helps you undress and climbs into the shower with you.

He smiles softly as foam covers you both, the warmth slowly weaving into your body and softening your cold limbs. 

Once out from the shower, David wraps you into a towel like a child and laughs lightly. He watches as a glimpse of a smile appears on your face for a split second, but it’s enough to make his heart swell. 

“Just ten minutes, okay?” David tells you as he pulls you onto your bed, holding you in his arms as you both lay in dressing gowns. 

You shuffle closer into him, closing your eyes as you nod. “Ten minutes. Don’t let me oversleep.” You ask as you instantly drift off, unable to stop yourself from saying anything else.

David smiles down as you remain fast asleep on his chest, a slightly refreshed version of yourself as he glances to his phone.

More than ten minutes have passed by, but you definitely need it. 

*

“Miss Y/n Y/L/N.” You walk up to the stage wearing your brightest smile as you shake your professor's hand. “Congratulations, Y/n.” He tells you as you nod to him before walking toward the steps, holding your diploma. 

David watches in the crowd with all of your friends, every single one of them bursting with pride as they see you return to your seat. “That’s my girl!” He shouts as you walk through the aisles, shyly looking down as he chuckles to himself.

Everyone knew how hard you worked for this moment, to actually make it through your final year. You had been through some of the darkest depths you didn’t know existed, but everyone was there to help nudge you closer to the surface. 

“I can’t believe she’s graduating.” Zane says as he wipes his eyes. “I feel like a proud parent.” He sniffs, causing Heath to hug him and pat his back.

“They grow up so fast, don’t they.” Heath comments and David focuses on you, how you’re glowing as you sit beside friends. 

You glance behind you, spotting your friends all in the crowd. Looking at all of them, you can see Zane tearing up with Heath, Carly and Erin taking photos and filming for you along with everyone else. But then your eyes lock with David’s.

His camera is nowhere in sight, he is simply focusing on you, on your moment. You give him a small wave, and his smile grows at the sight. “Thank you.” You mouth to him as he nods, knowing how much those two words truly mean to him and everyone else. 

As the rest of the students around you graduate, all you can think about is how lucky you are. That you have friends and a family who care so deeply about you, that no matter what, they’ll always be there to help.

Rising to your feet, you watch as everyone makes their way to their family members. Your parents are stood beside David, and bring you into a tight hug as they ramble on about how proud of you they are. And then they leave you for a moment with David, standing still in his smartest shirt and cleanest pair of black jeans.

“Good to see you made the effort, Dave.” You joke as he reaches out, bringing you into his arms. “Thank you, David.” You whisper to him this time, thinking back to the week before your finals. 

David didn’t give up on you that week. He stuck around and helped you as best as he could. He made sure you ate, he helped you have a routine despite it throwing off his own all because he wanted you to succeed. 

“All I want is for you to be happy, and for you to be living the life you dreamt of.” He tells you as his hand rests on your cheek. “I couldn’t be more proud to call you my girlfriend, Y/n. My college fucking GRADUATE.” He yells and you laugh loudly, ignoring the glances from your parents. 

“God, I love you, you dork.” You chuckle as you lean in, kissing him softly.

“And I love you too.” He mumbles into your lips as you feel a flash catch your eyes as you pull away.

Turning your heads, you spot Natalie holding one of David’s disposable cameras. “Trust me, in years to come you’ll thank me for capturing that.” She tells you and you both nod, going along with it. 

But now, looking back you are thankful. On top of your mantle sits your diploma along with a series of awards and a framed photo of that moment, something you’ll never forget. 

[nelllraiser]

(sh)room for growth | jared & nell

TIMING: before nell was excommunicated from the coven. LOCATION: jared’s farm. PARTIES: @themidnightfarmer​​ and @nelllraiser​. SUMMARY: nell visits jared and finds him a little different than she remembers. CONTENTS: mind alteration via mushrooms

Things in town were hard at the moment, but when weren’t they. It was hard to remember a time when there was simply nothing bad happening. And Jared had lived in white crest his whole life, that said a lot. That being said when he’d stumbled upon a ring for the first time that season he decided not to think about the consequences. He was allowed to have some fun right? That’s how the nymph found himself dancing around a big bonfire he’d built in the clearing between the first barn and the house. The flames were big and Jared delighted in prodding the copper pipe he’d put in the middle of the flames to watch them change colour. Drink in hand, a few bouncing bonedoggles around him, and Jared was having a grand time by himself. He swayed to himself in the music coming from the boom box just inside the cab of his tractor. Who knew mushroom season could be so great?

Nell could see the flames of the bonfire from across the field when she pulled up to the farm, leaving her motorcycle far from the kids as always so as not to startle them. Automatically, a grin spread over her lips, thinking of all the times her and Jared had stayed out here by the warmth of the fire to relax and simply enjoy each other’s company. She couldn’t quite make her friend out yet, but she didn’t hesitate to announce her arrival. “Jared! How dare you decide to start the party withou-” Her words cut off in the next instant, surprise flooding her system as she took in the actual full picture. The rosiness in her cheeks seemed to react instantly, and it seemed that old habits died hard as a small blush colored her. “Jared!” she began again in her surprise. “Are you- I mean- where are your clothes? Why are you naked?”

Hearing Nell’s voice Jared joyfully turned around to greet her. A massive grin plastered on his face he waved her over towards the fire. “I had to start without you!! I needed the fire to LIVE.” he told her, dramatically gesturing with both arms grandly at the huge burning mass. He wandered forward to her and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Clothes were only holding me back.” he waved away her concern idly, leading them over to the fire, his face not for a second shifting out of it’s dazed happiness. “I didn’t know how much better life was without anything holding you back.” He enthused loudly, throwing an arm out to the farmland as a whole. “My kids are so much freer than I am. I want a piece of that you know? Why can’t I be like them? Why can’t you be like them? You belong here!”

“Jared!” Nell called out again in pure surprise as he turned, her blush only darkening further. What would highschool Nell have done to be in this exact situation? No, on second thought— she’d probably be even more surprised. The arm around her shoulders was warm, and Nell tried her best not to look at- well- anywhere southwards, even if she was….curious. Instead she focused on Jared’s other horns. The ones on his head that apparently had come out to play. They really were lovely, with the way they gracefully curled, and their fascinating texture. She still wished he’d let himself out of his glamour more often when it was just the two of them and the farm. It seemed like it’d be uncomfortable to keep it up as often as he did. “It’s great with nothing to hold you back,” she tried to recover. “Are you drunk or something? Did you start drinking without me? That’s not fair! Do you want some pants?” Please, want some pants.

“Drunk? No way. Well I mean I wanted some whiskey for the bonfire but I couldn’t find it in the house, can’t remember where I last had it. Maybe the barn?” He squinted behind them still walking Nell forward and then shrugged. He squeezed her shoulders and stooped to whisper as if they were amongst people who couldn’t know, and not just some rowdy bonedoggle pups. “It’s mushroom season, a ring popped up behind the first barn.” he told her impishly. “Took my chances and I feel great.” he says louder than before. The nymph let her go and turned to walk backwards, taking her hand to hold to pull her closer to the bonfire. “Pants are for humans. Coffins for the legs. Life isn’t supposed to be that way, nothing is far more natural don’t you think. Come on Nell don’t tell me being naked isn’t FREEING.” He yelled out the last word, as if challenging the air to argue with him.

Nell still didn’t know where to look. But as Jared mentions mushrooms, things suddenly became clearer. “Ohhhh,” she let out a breath of air as a few things became clearer. “Like...a fairy ring?” She knew the bare minimum about them after her travels, but didn’t entirely understand them. All Nell knew was that she was not supposed to get into one as a human, though Deridre had shed perhaps a little more light on them. “So they’re like...a celebration, right?” That’s what the banshee had said, wasn’t it? Nell gave a small wince as Jared tugged on her hand, the movement jostling her bad wrist that was still tender and in its brace. “Damn, what I’d give to be as high as you are right now,” she laughed a little through the fading pain. “I mean it is, but— isn’t it a little...I just mean- well- with you...I don’t know? Are you saying I should be naked?” 

“Yeah! Like a fairy ring, the mushroom kind and not those weird british cookies...or are those called party rings…” His focus shifted, his brain working overtime trying to work around the effects of the mushrooms. But alas he couldn’t quite grasp the information and instead waved it off. “IT’S GONNA BE A PARTY!” Jared came back with a response, arguably far too loud for the tone she’d asked the question in. “High on LIFE Nells.” he corrected her and grinned. In a very rare rational moment Jared sobered and looked at her as if he was back to normal. “You think I should wear pants…” but the moment broke mere seconds later when his started to giggle and wiggled his shoulders this way and that. “But pants are for humans Nells, Horns on pants off, those are the new house rules. You don’t HAVE to follow the rules too, but you COULD.”

Nell shook her head ever so slightly, still unable to make sense of exactly what it was Jared was getting it. Instead, she tried her best to roll with it. “A party? Am I invited?” she asked with feigned indignance, as if any answer other that yes would result her in being deeply and personally offended. “I don’t...I mean…” She didn’t want to make Jared wear pants, not if this was the way fae were meant to naturally exist in the revelry of the mushrooms, but she also simply didn’t know what to do with all the...skin. Not when it was Jared. “Okay, well if it’s horns on— I’m gonna need to borrow some,” she tried her best to tease, once again avoiding looking directly at Jared. As she spoke, she rubbed her bad wrist absently, trying to soothe away the ache.

“Of course you’re invited, you’re always invited!” Jared told her earnestly. He bustled over to her and put both hands flat on her head, as he drew them away small little baby versions of two of his horns were there, he giggled and snorted and grinned looking at them before being intensely distracted by her movement to rub her wrist. She’d hurt it, he remembered that, and he’d just pulled it oh this would not do. This wasn’t okay. She needed to be seen to. And like he would do with any of his vicious angels his eyes changed to their natural colour and he started to slowly walk her backwards with a single hand on her shoulder. “Your wrist is sore.” he points out innocently, quietly herding her closer to the barn. Not even really registering what he was doing. 

Nell laughed along with Jared as he mimed the horns, half tempted to glamour some onto herself as part of the game. But she was also distracted as her wrist caught his attention. IT wasn’t unlike Jared to be concerned about her and her injuries, but he seemed...much more intensely focused on it than he usually was. “Oh, it’s not that bad. It’s getting better, anyway. And that’s what the brace is for,” she said as she held up the wrist with a gentle shake, nothing that would hurt it. For a moment, Nell walked mindlessly with Jared, further misled by his eyes changing color. They really were lovely, and he didn’t often let him show. It took her for a second to remember what they’d been doing in her admiration, but then she was reflexively turning back towards the truck and the fire he’d been tending. “Wait, I thought we were gonna have a party or whatever.”

Jared took a small side step in front of her when she turned around, still trying to walk her the other way. “The party will be there later.” he cooed, a big smile finding itself back on his face but his eyes intently watched her wrist moments. Seems even the most vicious of creatures needed a little coaxing to be cared for, so he persisted. Jared wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tried to gently persuade her towards the barn again. What he planned to do when they got there wasn’t yet clear even to himself but his instinct was to move them out of the open air and into somewhere safer. Being injured like that she needed protecting. That was what he was best at! “How’d you hurt it? What actually happened?” He was intensely focused on her wrist now his free hand lifting it so he could see. As if she hadn’t already clearly gotten it seen to.

As Jared stepped in front of her, confusion and indignance flickered over Nell’s face, her neck craning back in a gut reaction. Sure, they often played games of chase fairly often, but this felt different. “Why are you talking like that?” she asked. His tone had changed, hadn’t it? And it wasn’t like the usual tone he used when he was concerned about her. Before she knew it, he was leading her away from the fire yet again. What the hell? What was he doing? “It was at the Ring, like I told you. Remember? I landed on it wrong.” Her frown only went deeper as he continued to fawn, thrown by this change in demeanor. “What are you doing?” she asked, trying to take her wrist back. “You’re acting like I’m one of-” And then it dawned on her. The way he kept redirecting her to the barn, the cooing voice he was using. “Holy shit, you think I’m one of your creatures, don’t you?” The absurdity of the situation morphed the trail end of her words into the beginnings of a chuckle. Sure, she could be viscous, but for him to think she was one of his wards?

“Talking like what?” Jared said softly in return not really listening to her. It wasn’t like he ever had to actively listen to any of his charges and process their language before after all. He wasn’t able to do that so he didn’t manage to make the stretch to really process what Nell said in this situation. He frowned very lightly when she pulled her arm out of his reach and he tutted gently. So stubborn. “You’re not a creature.” he once again responds without really thinking about what she was accusing him. He gave up holding onto her and instead decided to try coaxing. He walked backwards and held his hand out to her. “Come on good things in the barn!”

Was he even listening? Nell was just as lost as she’d been in the beginning, having no idea how to combat the mushroom addled brain of Jared. This was a Jared she didn’t know. It was a thought that somewhat unsettled her. Wasn’t she supposed to be one of the people that knew him best? But now she didn’t have any bearings to go off of. “Jared, listen. I’m fine, alright. I don’t need to go to the barn.” What good things was he even talking about in the barn? Hay? Human parts? She wasn’t squeamish, but she had no desire to digest anything that his kids would normally be eating. “No! You think I’m one of them!” she said as she took a step away from the nymph, pointing towards the pasture of bies that were grazing nearby.

Jared squinted at her and then glanced over to the bies and seemed to get lost. The mushroom circle high had yet to fully settle into his mind, so he was knocked off course and his hyperfocus on her wrist injury was diverted to his actual kids. With eyes on his herd of bies he melted when one of them yawned. “Did you see that, so sweet. Why does no one know you’re so cute.” he asked the bies, who looked up at him and then turned its third eye on Nell and then it meandered away. His eyes caught the bonfire again and his direction was shifted once more. The copper pipe he’d placed in it catching and changing the flame colour. He took Nells non-wrapped wrist and pointed bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Look at that holy shit!” He was lost to the mushrooms. He wasn’t likely to make any sort of sense any time soon.

Well, at least the bies had done one thing for Nell today, effectively drawing Jared away from his plans of holing her up in the barn to do who knew what. At least he hadn’t tried to cattle prod her or anything. “They can be very cute,” she affirmed to Jared, hoping it would further placate him. Why did she feel like she was talking to a five year old? As Jared was quickly drawn back to the fire within the span of thirty seconds, Nell’s brow raised. Maybe she was dealing with a five-year-old. “That’s great, Jared.” Normally, she would have loved to go along with any shenanigans including Jared, even if it was just a pretty copper pipe in a fire. But something about this simply set her on edge. If Jared could barely function properly, how was he going to get through the coming days? “Hey, what if we just sit by the fire for a bit? That sounds nice.” Maybe he’d stand still and they could figure this out. “I could even have the hounds sit with us.” Maybe that would be enough to get him to focus.

Her words were starting to sink in finally, the mushroom circle effects starting to settle into something more stable, if still very unusual for Jared’s normal. He beamed at her agreement about his bies and nodded vigorously about sitting by the bonfire. He wanted that, he definitely wanted that. It was all muddled in his brain, but he was at least still aware of wants and needs. It was just the start of the party for Jared. They couldn’t know that yet, but soon enough things would really swing to life as Nell tentatively left him to his own devices.

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 11 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Paul and Gene confess the truth to Ace and Peter.

            There were a few things Gene hadn’t exactly thought he’d live to see. One was the fall of Communism. One was decent oil prices. One was Paul Stanley attempting to shove Ace Frehley bodily into the doorframe.

            At least, that was what it looked like Paul was trying to do. Gene hadn’t gotten out of the car nearly fast enough to catch it all, hampered by the car lock he’d thoughtlessly left on and the milkshake he’d been in the middle of (they’d picked up Dairy Queen on the way back from the boutique). By the time Gene got to the front yard, Paul had Ace by the shoulders and was screaming obscenities.

            By the time Gene got to the front porch, Peter had yanked Paul away from Ace and had one of his arms locked behind his back. Paul was trying to trip Peter, one foot twisting behind Peter’s ankle as he leaned back against him. Ace stepped forward, trying to pull them both apart, only Paul’s fist flung out and nearly connected with his jaw. Peter, meanwhile, was still screaming.

            “You crazy bitch! This isn’t your house! This is his house!”

            “It’s my goddamn house!”

            “You got some nerve! You think ’cause you fucked the guy you’ve got a right to his place?!”

            “Pete, let go of the girl! C’mon and calm down! Both of you!” Ace yelled out.

            “Ace, you lousy son of a bitch!”

            “Hey, hey, we barely know each other—”

            “Stop it!”

            Gene wrenched away Peter’s grip on Paul’s arm, relying more on weight and suddenness than strength. Peter immediately went for Gene instead—Peter was a much smaller guy, but meaner and still more savvy, for all that it had been years since he’d been in a fight—but Gene grabbed him before he could. Paul just barreled over to Ace as soon as he was free, pinning him against the door, standing on his foot to keep him in place. Ace looked like he was torn between being bewildered and bursting into laughter.

            Peter didn’t fight off the grip much, which surprised Gene. Maybe even he realized that a skull fracture on the cement front porch would be like setting fire to KISS’ ticket sales. Gene held him there, barking at Paul as he did.

            “Leave Ace alone!”

            “Leave Ace alone? His credit card’s in my fucking door!”

            “Let him alone! Let him alone right now.”

            “Gene!”

            Paul hesitated, then backed off from Ace. As soon as he was halfway sure Paul wouldn’t jump back on him, Gene let go of Peter, who whirled on both of them.

            “We’re not trying to steal Paul’s shit! We just wanna know what the fuck is going on here!”

            “We—” Gene started, only to be interrupted by Ace.

            “Where’s Paul at?” he said quietly. Gene’s head snapped towards Paul, praying he’d read the look in his eyes. Praying he’d realize he couldn’t blow it. Peter already hadn’t believed him once. There was no way—there was no sense in trying again.

            But that wasn’t all of it. Even if somehow Ace and Peter believed Paul, what good could they do, anyway? The two of them would just screw everything up worse. It wasn’t a thought borne out of practicality; it was self-righteous, maybe even selfish. Part of Gene wanted to keep being the only one who knew.

            It turned out that it didn’t matter what Gene wanted. Paul just glared back, snapping out his answer before Gene could even try to stop him.

            “I’m right here, you idiot!”

            Ace stiffened up, eyes widening slightly.

            “What?”

            “I’m right here! I’m Paul!” Paul waved his hands in the air in front of him, up and down from his head to his chest.

            “Don’t—”

            “Shut up, Gene! I can handle this!”

            “You—you’re crazy,” Peter snapped. “That’s the stupidest bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

            In contrast, Ace looked almost nervous. It was an out of place expression on his face. He glanced around, from Gene to Paul to Peter, before finally settling back on Paul, studying his face hard enough that Paul broke eye contact. Ace exhaled.

            “You kind of look like him, yeah, but Paul’s not a girl.”

            “No shit, Sherlock,” Paul rattled out. “Gene, are you gonna vouch for me or what?”

            “This is a—”

            “Why the hell should we believe you on this, Gene?” Peter again. “You must think we’re fucking idiots! Running around with this chick, making up all sorts of fucking stories—who’s to say Paul ain’t lying dead in the fucking bathroom right now?!”

            “Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Paul had reached for Peter again, like he somehow thought contact would clarify everything. Peter stepped back, brushing away his hand. “I’m right here! I never went anywhere! I-I can prove it to both of you!”

            “You got at least two really good proofs you ain’t him, and they’re hanging right off your chest right now, you—”

            “Pete.” Gene’s voice surprised even him. “He’s telling the truth.”

            “Would you—”

            “Peter!” Ace, much louder than normal, before quieting down, almost as if in apology. “We got this far.”

            “They’re both lying!”

            “Give it a minute, yeah? Give it a minute.”

            Peter rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Ace continued, giving Gene a cautious glance before turning his focus back to Paul.

            “There’s something bad wrong with you, I can tell that much,” he said. “Course, there’s something bad wrong with Paulie, too, but—"

            “You’re one to talk, Ace,” Paul snapped. Ace didn’t look perturbed in the slightest.

            “I mean, he’s a Capricorn and real neurotic and shit.” Paul let out a disgruntled sound at the comment, one Ace ignored as he continued. “Could you do something for me?”

            “You tried to break into my goddamn house and now you’re—”

            “Walk around.” Ace held up his hands. “’M not gonna do anything. I just wanna see.”

            Paul made a face but walked to the opposite end of the porch and back, hands straight at his sides. Gene watched. He thought he knew what Ace was getting at—he hoped he did, at least. Paul’s stiff, straight-backed gait wasn’t much different than it had been before this mess had started. Gene hadn’t really noticed prior, consciously. It was just another peculiarity. The same actions and characteristics transposed onto the wrong body, giving him away—if you knew where to look.

            Ace, apparently, did. That off-putting insight was finally going towards something worthwhile. Gene shifted, oddly uncomfortable.

            “You walk more like a guy. And you didn’t try to kick us in the nuts.” Ace pursed his lips in contemplation. The rest of his expression was unreadable. “Doesn’t mean anything by itself, but…”

            Paul was starting to look a little hopeful. A little eager. He stepped in closer to where Peter and Ace were standing, as if he were about to reach out for them.

            “Ace, I can prove I’m Paul! Ask me something. Ask me anything. Go on!”

            Ace shrugged amicably, turning his head.

            “Pete, you got anything to ask her?”

            Pete looked irritated that Ace was turning Paul’s demand on him. He took a second to consider, looking at Paul warily. Gene waited, wondering what question Pete would pull out.

          “What’s my cat’s name?”

            “Mateus. You didn’t even name him. Lydia did.”

            Paul had answered almost in an instant. Peter blinked, but shook his head.

            “You could’ve gotten that just from reading the magazines.”

            Paul let out a curse.

            “Then ask me something else. Ask me about—Jesus, I don’t know—"

          “The dick-measuring contest.” Ace’s voice was soft and absolutely devoid of humor.

            “What?”

            “Who won the dick-measuring contest?”

            “Jesus, Ace, I…” Paul’s face went red. Gene bit back a wince, not sure if it was on his own behalf or Paul’s. “That’s… that’s so fucking embarrassing, don’t—”

            “And tell me who got second and third and fourth.”

            “Ace!” Oh, God. Paul was actually squeaking. It would have been endearing in any other situation. Gene searched Ace’s expression, as bland and out of it as usual, for even a twinge of pity or amusement or anything, but there was nothing. He wasn’t going to let him out of this. A little uncertainty rose from somewhere in Gene’s stomach as Paul finally admitted, “Okay, okay! Peter won!”

            Ace’s eyes got huge again, mouth forming a tight oval Gene had seen maybe four hundred times onstage. Paul had probably seen it more than that. Actually, Paul and Peter both in all those idiotic threesomes. Why that was still sticking in his craw, Gene didn’t know. Beside him, Peter’s mouth was wide open. Ace looked like he was trying to answer back, but Paul started rambling into a response before he could.

            “Well, we all knew he was going to win! The only one we hadn’t seen before was Gene’s!”

            “You—”

            “You want the placements? You were second! I was in third, and Gene was in fourth, and then I said it wasn’t fair since no one was hard, and you two had the fucking Loch Ness monster for dicks anyway and—”

            “Holy fucking shit.”

            Ace and Peter both looked scared as all hell for a few seconds. Peter reached out, almost cautiously, touching Paul’s shoulder like he was afraid it was going to dissolve into ash if he dared grasp it. Gene thought at first Peter was just trying to make sure Paul was still solid, until Peter tugged at his collar. Gene stiffened on weird automatic, but Paul seemed to realize what he wanted, undoing the bow and pulling down the sleeve, exposing a droopy bra strap and his tattoo again. Peter stared at that bright red rose like it held all the secrets to a number-one single, tracing up and down it with his finger before pulling back.

            “That’s why you were trying to show me,” he said softly. “That’s what you were trying…”

            “That’s it, all right.” Ace was peering in, too. “It isn’t like Paul’s, it is Paul’s. I ought to know. We got our tattoos the same day.”

            “Paul,” Peter said, staring as Paul tugged up his sleeve and retied the bow. “Paul, I… fuck, I’m so sorry.”

            “Pete—”

            Peter hesitated visibly. Then he wrapped his arms around Paul in a tight hug.

            “I thought—I thought Gene had stole your girl!”

            “I know—”

            “I thought you’d lost it! Run off and had a nervous breakdown! I… I had no idea you were right… Paulie…”

            Paul hugged him back after a few seconds, clearly overwhelmed. Relief looked like it was flooding his face. It made Gene’s guilt feel all the heavier, there, clotted somewhere beyond the back of his throat. He felt slimy, somehow. Slimy for not considering Paul’s family, for not considering Paul’s relief at being believed by his bandmates. Slimy for the part of him that had liked being the only one who knew. That felt like it was for the best. What did he know about what was best for Paul? Paul looked happier now than he’d seen him this entire time.

            Peter let go after awhile. Paul’s arms hung in the air for a second before Ace realized they were out for him. Their hug was relatively brief, Ace looking weirded-out by the entire prospect.

            “Shit, how many inches did you drop there?”

            “Three or four.”

            “You’re shorter than Peter now! Not by a lot, but…”

            “What the hell happened? Did you wanna be a chick?” Peter blurted it out of nowhere, expected and inevitable.

            “No!” Paul nearly yelled it out. “I got cursed, okay? The girl that did this, she—she’s supposed to come to Studio 54 every night. I’m trying to find her. Get her to take this off of me.”

            “Who? Who did it?”

            “Some girl. Not—not a celebrity, just some girl.”

            “Paulie… why didn’t you tell us?”

            “I tried to! Yesterday! You just blew me off!”

            “You were yanking down your clothes! What was I supposed to think?”

            “I tried—”

            “Why didn’t you tell us when it happened? We could’ve helped you! We all could’ve helped you.” Peter got quieter then. “You didn’t have to just stick it all on Gene.”

            “I didn’t,” Paul mumbled. “He figured it out on his own.”

            “How?”

            “The tattoo,” Gene said. Paul shot him a relieved look. Ace looked askance, chewing on his lip.

            “Do you wanna tell Bill now?”

            “God, no. Bill’s got enough problems.”

            “He’d keep it quiet. Y’know how he is, that guy could’ve stopped Watergate.”

            “We’re hoping to get it resolved before we’ve got to tell anyone else,” Gene said. “If Bill knew, he’d postpone the tour at minimum.”

            “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” Ace exhaled. “Okay, Paulie.”

            “Okay?”

            “There’s more to it than what you just said. We’d all better sit down for this shit. You gonna let us in?”

            “Your card’s still in my door.”

            “Oh. Yeah, it is.” Instead of pulling it out, Ace pushed it in further between the jamb and the door, jiggling the knob as he did so. The door fell open. “You gotta get better locks sometime. C’mon, girlie.”