#I’m just a little disappointed her tie in is so awkward

[nightmarist]

Decided not to leave it in the tags so:

Flemeth and or Morrigan being part of or connected to the Elvhen pantheon while being visibly human / round eared is a little ridiculous tbh

The context of romance locked lore w Solas you find out the Vallaslin are actually slave brandings and there are brandings dedicated to Mythal, and Flemeth being (carrying?) Mythal makes it particularly worse. Let alone Morrigan’s dalish knowledge is really patronizing.

Like. A really quick fix would be to just make them elves. ESPECIALLY as Witches of the Wild. People already think both elves and the witches are evil baby killing demon summoning monsters. It’d also make sense for them to be Separate from other elves the way Solas is, neither city nor dalish but a literally secret third thing (Gods / Gods Possessing Mortal Form).

Like. There wouldn’t need to be any overhaul change to their design or personalities maybe just one or two dialogue like “are you elves? Why aren’t you in the alienage or w the dalish?” And they can very easily dodge the question or make up a lie and that’s that.

Itd help set up the god reveal. Especially when the first game is setting up the lore for all of dragon age as a series AND it could help foreshadow Solas without revealing his nature too soon. It’d make Morrigan less patronizing. It’d make Flemeth’s worship and tie in less weird. Just. Little pointy elf ears could fix so much weird subtext…..

[riordanness]

champagne problems — [l.laurence]

wordcount: 3.2K

warnings: angst

requested: no

a/n: i really love this fic, i spent a super long time on it and it took me ages but i love it so i hope you love it too <3

“Thank you,” I tell my dance partner, another nameless, tasteless, personality-less boy I will never see again. I smile and curtsy, and turn away, as I do every time. No one will ever fill the hole in my heart the way that he did.

I spot Amy talking to Fred, and weave my way towards them. I don’t know anyone else by anything more than name, and it’s awkward. It’s stiff, it’s strange, and it’s uncomfortable. Trying to make friends with these men, men who couldn’t care less about my feelings or my ambitions; just my pretty face and my willingness to marry. Once they discovered I didn’t have my heart in that; at least not anymore, they lost all interest in me.

“Hey, y/n,” Amy greets me, offering me a glass of what I think is champagne.

“Thank you,” I tell her, and take a sip.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Fred addresses me.

I shrug, and try to smile. “It is alright.”

Amy has a sympathetic look on her face. She knows me a little bit too well. All the March sisters do, as well as… him. He knew me better than anyone. Or at least that’s what I thought.

“Laurie!” I laughed, giggling so hard I couldn’t even escape him. His arms caught me tightly, poking and tickling my waist. I squirmed, but the pure joy of being with him was almost overwhelming.

“What?” he teased. “What’s wrong, y/n? Hmm?”

“S-Stop!” I gasped for air, playfully hitting him on the arm. Well, it was a pretty hard punch, actually.

“Ow! Y/n!” Laurie released me and winced, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry!” I tried to stop laughing.

He stared at me for a heartbeat, and just as my smile faded, he then grinned. “Gotcha.”

His happiness was infectious. I was smiling again, laughing again, purely and completely content to live forever in this moment.

“Y/n.”

Amy’s voice is a warning, and my brain only hears it a minute after I should. “Hmm?” I ask, glancing up at her. She’s used to my daydreaming, so I assume she’ll just repeat her comment, but Amy isn’t looking at me. She’s staring sternly at the staircase at the entrance of this ballroom.

I turn, and there’s a half moment of anticipation. Who has arrived?

Then, I see him. His wrinkled white shirt, untied bow tie. The glass of alcohol held lazily in his hand. His unruly curls are even more uncombed and unkempt than usual. His eyes are light with mirth and dull from the drink. Two women are fawning over him from either side, and he’s drinking up the attention more eagerly than the champagne.

Laurie.

My breath catches in my throat, and I try to swallow the sudden lump there. “Ah, I see.”

Fred puts a hand on my shoulder, a protective, big-brother gesture. I really appreciate him. No matter how many times I end up basically third-wheeling him and Amy when they go out, he never minds. Amy has told him all about what Laurie did to me, so he decided to step in and try to help fill that hole.

And I love him for it, but no one will ever be capable of making me whole the way Laurie did. And I’m not sure if anyone ever will be able to.

I take a cautious sip of champagne, watching as Laurie drapes himself on a lounge on the opposite side of the room. The girls with him sink to their knees on either side of his body, fawning over the boy.

I don’t care how much expression is visible on my face right now; I can’t do anything but stare in a mix of disgust, disappointment and utter disbelief.

Then, he sees me. His eyes clear a little, they get wide and surprised all of a sudden. He attempts to sit up a little straighter.

I can’t watch anymore. I turn and shove my glass unceremoniously in Fred’s hands, and walk out of the room as quickly as I can manage, heading to the little moonlit garden path I know awaits me outside.

I laugh as Jo tells me about her plans for a new story.

“I want to turn this one into a play,” she adds. “And you should be in it! The main character is just the perfectest part for you to play, y/n.”

I roll my eyes teasingly. “First of all, ‘perfectest’ isn’t a word. And second, you know I don’t act. I’m not going to be any good!”

Jo shrugs. “Won’t know until you’ve tried it.”

I don’t answer, my gaze sliding back to all the dancers on the floor. I wish someone would ask me to dance. But I know no one here other than the March girls. And I can’t exactly dance with Jo. She has a burnt dress and isn’t allowed to dance. Not that she minds; she says she’d rather eat a stick than dance with any of the boys here.

Then, I see a boy with dark curls and pretty eyes staring at me from across the room. I tilt my head, and give a little wave and a half-smile.

He returns it immediately and makes his way over towards us.

“Hello there,” he greets me. “I’m Laurie.”

Jo looks at him. “You’re the Laurence boy. You live near us.”

Laurie nods his head at her. “Miss March.”

“Please. Call me Jo. Everyone does.”

“Jo.”

Laurie then glances at me. “I don’t think I know you.”

I hold my hand out to him. “Y/n, Mr Laurie. I’m friends with the Marches.”

He smiles again, and it’s so pretty my chest hurts. Is this what falling in love is like? Is it supposed to be painful? Supposed to feel like you’re being ripped apart and glued together all at the same time?

I lean myself on the wall outside, my head against the cool stone bricks. My head is pounding, my temples aching.

I didn’t think that seeing him again would have such a strong reaction from me, but apparently even my heart rate still hurts because of him.

I can hear footsteps, but I don’t have the energy to hide my distress from anyone right now. Hopefully whoever it is will just walk by and leave me be.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Laurie’s voice will forever bring me the biggest rush of emotions in the world, but where it used to invite happiness and joy, now entices fear and anxiety and anguish.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “Hello Laurie.” I’m surprised at how even my voice sounds. I expected it to come out shaky and distant.

“Hey.” He sounds unsure of what he’s doing. “What’s happening with you?”

My eyes are still closed, and I still have my head against the rocky wall. I shrug one shoulder. “Nothing much, thanks for asking.”

There’s three heartbeats of silence.

Then: “How are you?”

I sigh, open my eyes. “Laurie. Why are you doing this?”

His eyes are unreadable. “Doing what?”

“You know what.”

“Y/n, I…” His voice fades. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

I give him a hard look. “Sorry? Laurie, this isn’t about what happened all those years ago. I’m over it; I’m over you.” I was lying through my teeth, but I refused to give him the satisfaction that knowledge would bring.

I sigh. “What are you doing, Laurie?” I wave my hand at him helplessly. “Drinking, probably gambling again? Fawning over random girls? Laurie, you’re better than this. And you know it, too. You’re throwing your life away, and I…” I swallow. “As your friend, I can’t just sit and watch. You need to stop this. Go home, go see your grandfather. Stop destroying the little boy he used to be so proud of.”

I turn, and walk away, leaving Laurie out there in the moonlight.

I don’t breathe until I reach Fred and Amy again. They’re laughing and drinking champagne together, but when they see me, the conversation dies.

“Hey, you okay?” Amy asks.

I try to nod, then tears glisten in my eyes and I have to drop. I shake my head, meeting my friend’s eyes. “I’m gonna go home,” I tell her.

She nods in understanding, her eyes searching mine, desperate for answers.

“I told him what he needed to hear,” I say quickly. “But—he still doesn’t know how much it hurts. And it hurts just to see him. It hurts deep in my soul. I—I can’t—“ I have to force myself to take a deep breath, sobs building in my chest.

I leave, Amy’s hand squeezing mine as I go.

I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling as ‘Aunt’ March chatters about how Fed and Amy are soon to be engaged, so I really must hurry and marry soon.

“Are you even listening to me, y/n?” she asks sharply.

I sit up straight in an instant. “Uh—yes of course, Ms March.”

“How many times must I ask you to call me Aunt,” she sighs. “You’re practically family at this point, my dear.”

I smile. “Alright, Aunt March.”

“Very good. Now, as I was saying…”

I zone back out as she talks, my mind drifting instead to Laurie. I truly had thought I was over him, or at least pretty much so. Rather, the moment I saw him, I thought I might explode. Seeing his smile, his eyes, the way he stands, it made all the memories just come flooding back.

“Laurie—“ I call, walking into his room one pretty Saturday morning. “Get up lazy bones. We’ve got things to do!”

The only response is a groan from underneath Laurie’s covers. I sit on the edge and poke at him.

“Come on!” I beg. “We’re gonna be late, you know.”

Laurie’s curls peep out. “Late for what?” he asks groggily.

I resist the urge to giggle. “Late for our adventures, of course. We have a walk planned, and you promised me you’d teach me fencing this weekend, and you have to keep that promise. It was a pinky promise.”

Laurie groans again. “I don’t want to get up, y/n.”

“What? Even to spend time with me?”

“Yes. Go away.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Theodore Laurence, not until you get—up—“ I poke him in the shoulder twice.

“Y/n!” he whines.

I laugh. “Yes, Laurie?”

He sticks his head fully out now, and looks at me. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, but I am not getting up yet.”

I ignore the flutter in my chest and grab his arm, pulling him hard. “Yes you are! I promised your grandfather I’d force you to exercise while he’s gone, and I intend to keep my promise.”

“Fine,” Laurie relents. He allows me to drag him out of bed, and after he’s dressed, the two of us head off into our favourite trail in the woods.

My heart hurts, and my head hurts, and my eyes hurt. I want to get up, go for a walk or something, but I can’t find it in me to do so. So I simply close my eyes and continue to lay face-up along the foot of my four-poster bed.

It doesn’t seem like long at all before someone is tapping my shoulder.

“Sorry, Amy,” I mumble, eyes still closed. “Did I drift off?”

“It’s… not Amy,” a quiet voice answers.

I sit up straight immediately, and come face to face with none other than Laurie Laurence.

“Hi.” He almost says it like a question.

I frown a little, unsure of the nature of this unexpected visit. “Hello, Laurie.”

He winces a little. “Look, you don’t have to say anything. You said plenty last night.”

“You needed to hear it,” I retort.

“I know.” He lets out his breath. “I’ve been thinking, all night, about what you said. You were right, you were right about all of it. I am wasting my life, I’m ruining everything because of one stupid mistake that unravelled it all. And–and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you, in all the ways that I have. You don’t deserve a friend like me; you never did.”

He stands to go, and for a heartbeat, I think about letting him. But then,

“Laurie!”

“Laurie!”

I see him, walking along the street as I pass on the other side. I immediately break away from Jo, who I was escorting to town. “I'll see you later, Jo.”

She smiles knowingly and shoos me off. “Bye, y/n/n.”

“Laurie!” I call again, running to catch up with him.

At the sound of my voice, he half-turns, double-takes, and then his face breaks into a wide grin, the way he always saves just for me. “Y/n!”

I run right until I’m in his arms. “I missed you,” I sigh into his hair. “When did you get back?”

I feel him smiling. “Only just this morning. I was going to surprise you, but you beat me to it, tesoro mio.”

“Laurie, you know I don’t speak Italian,” I laugh, pulling away slightly to look at him. “I’m not the one who just went to Italy for a year. And don’t use it without telling me the meanings; it’s mean! I never know what you’re saying.”

Laurie has a faint smirk on his face. “Sorry, tesoro mio.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me,” he replies easily, and oh, how badly I want to agree with him out loud. Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, I’m head over heels in love with you.

So I do say it. “Yes,” I say, “I do.”

Laurie blinks at me. “What?”

My mouth opens a little, but for a second, nothing comes out. “I do love you,” I say slowly.

Laurie stares at me. “Why?”

“Everything, Laurie,” I sigh. “You’re kind, and beautiful, and you understand me better than even I can. You’re always there to cheer me up when I need that, and when I’m sad, you’re all too happy to give me your shoulder to cry on. You always know exactly what I’m thinking, and feeling, and you always know the right thing to say. You don’t mind my silly ramblings, or fantasies, and you don't care what anyone thinks of you. You’re always the person I want to be around; Laurie, you make me so happy. I love you, Laurie Laurence, and I think I always have.”

There’s silence for a minute, just a heartbeat too long to feel comfortable. All I can hear are the birds in the trees above us, but their songs sound alarming.

Laurie looks away, then at the sky, and finally back at me. His tongue swipes his lower lip in a way that I know is nervous.

“Y/n,” he says, and his tone instantly crushes me. “I—that’s extremely sweet and beautiful and I love you too, but…”

My heart sinks. “But you love Jo.” A part of me had always known, but I’d tried to convince myself otherwise. Clearly, my instinct had been correct.

“I can’t help it!” Laurie tries to justify himself, but he has no reason to. He can’t help who he’s fallen in love with, just as I cannot help falling in love with him. “I love you, y/n, I truly do. You’re my best friend… but the love I feel for Jo, it’s different. And you’re not her. You will never, and can never be her.”

I feel like someone has ripped my heart from my chest, stepped on it, thrown it into a frozen lake, and shoved it back inside of me. All I can manage is a nod.

“You should probably tell her then,” I whisper, and I turn to go. I can’t bear looking at him any longer.

That was the last time I’d seen Laurie for a very long time. I’d left for Europe with Amy, leaving Laurie and Jo to have a life together, if that’s what they wanted. Turns out Jo never saw him in that way, and he was rejected by her later that very same day.

I was still amazing friends with all the March girls, and I still cradled my childhood memories close to my heart.

But my heart has never healed. Every time Laurie Laurence was on my mind, it stung like only yesterday. Any day that a memory of those long walks, the silly fights, the hugs and dances, the inside jokes and dumb decisions came to me, I’d break down and cry.

“Laurie!”

He stops at the sound of my voice, turns, and his green eyes meet mine. He stares, waiting for me to speak.

“Don’t leave,” I say softly. “Please. Don’t make the mistake I did.”

He turns to fully face me now. “What mistake?”

I let out a breath. “Running. When someone needed me most.”

His eyes clear in understanding. I missed this about him, the way he’d always know exactly what I meant by everything. I never had to explain anything, because Laurie knew my heart. He always understood what I was trying to say, no matter what.

“Y/n—“

I hold my hand to stop his words. “Don’t say anything,” I tell

him. “You don’t have to. You have never, and will never, be under any obligation to return the feelings I have for you. That’s not your fault, and it wasn’t back then, and I’m sorry that I dropped you out of my life after that day. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when Jo turned you down, I’m sorry I never replied or even read your letters. I—“

“You never read my letters?” Laurie’s voice sounds broken.

I stop. “No. I—I didn’t.”

Laurie looks down, his forehead scrunching together. “No wonder…” he mutters. “You… you had no idea.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “No idea about what?”

He glances up, his eyes searching mine, for what I don’t know. “I wrote to you, y/n. Dozens of times. I poured my heart out into those letters. I told you how much I missed you, how badly I was hurting over what I’d said to you that day. I—I told you how Jo helped me to realise that it really was you all along. I’ve been in love with you since I first met you, y/n, and I never stopped. I just didn't realise it. But when you never wrote back, I assumed that was your answer.”

“Oh, Laurie,” I whisper, tears in my voice. “I’m so sorry.” A million thoughts are racing through my mind, but one rises above the others.

“Is it still true?”

He hesitates. “That I love you?”

I nod once. “Yeah.”

“It will always be true.”

And for the first time in a long while, I feel at home again.

[bearrrrrrr7]

perfect

Haven't posted anything in like, 8 years? Got inspired today. goodbye. (don't even remember how this shirt works lmaooo)

“yo , Syd!” Carmy calls from his office. He has a hangnail he’s been chewing on. Mostly nerves, he thinks. Also because it fucking hurts. If he starts bleeding his wife is gonna kill him. 

“‘Sup, Carm?” She pushes her way through the door and peaks her head in, “Yeah?” 

“Uh, next week, on like-” he checks his phone for the date again, “wednesday, yeah Wednesday, I’m gonna be out. Gonna need you to take over until like-Monday, I think? You can call me, just won’t be in.” 

Syd scrunches her eyebrow “uh, no-yeah that’s fine, for sure. Just like - why? Are you okay? You don’t normally, like, spring this shit on me.” She fully enters his office at this point. Arms are crossed, not in an annoyed way, more so because the giant fan in his office is directly pointing at her. 

“No yeah, uh, fine.” He coughs into his shoulder. He shouldn’t feel awkward about this, he’s a fully grown man with two baby girls and a beautiful wife. “Just a procedure, medical, uh, procedure I gotta get done on Wednesday. They told me not to be on my feet too much for the next couple days.” He’s not making eye contact with Syd, fully focused on color coordinating the highlighters in his desk. 

“Procedure? Dude, what? Are you fucking okay?” Syd asks, walking a little closer to him. She has half the nerve to put the back of her hand to his forehead. 

“Yes, Syd. Jesus. I’m fuckin’ fine okay? I mean it, just - like, could you make sure this shit doesn’t burn down while I’m gone?” He runs his hand through his curls. He needs a cigarette. He tries to picture your disappointed face so he doesn’t reach for his emergency pack. 

“Yo, Syd!” Syd and Carmy both whip their heads to the door, it’s Richie. With a shit eating grin on his face. 

“What, Richie?” Syd scoffs. “Were you invited here or did you just decide to insert yourself?” 

“Insert myself. Anyways, just so you don’t pop a blood vessel, Carm’s getting surgery to he can fuck his wife without protection. Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s gonna be juuuuuust fine” he says, winking, stupid fucking grin still on his face. 

“Jesus, Richie” Carm and Syd both say at the same time. Carmy has his head in his hands. “Don’t listen to ‘im.” Carmy finally says. “I mean - yes. I am getting, you know, uhm, that. Vasectomy. But like - that wasn’t the main reaso-” 

“Hey Carmy?” Syd interrupts him. 

“Mm?” 

“Good luck on your procedure on Wednesday and I’ll see you Monday, okay?” 

“Thank you, Chef” Carmy breathes out a laugh. Syd laughs too. “Fuckin’ Richie” he says. 

“Fuckin’ Richie” Syd agrees. 

-

Carmy shows up to the house 3 hours later. Apparently everyone in the bear had heard Richie’s loud fucking announcement about his surgery. His hangnail did start bleeding but he found a paw patrol bandaid in the backseat of his car. 

He hears laughter once he reaches the back door, he smiles to himself. 

“Where are my cubs?” He yells as soon as he gets through the door. He hears screaming and giggling and a jumble of “Me! I here, daddy!” and before he can get a good glimpse of them he has tiny, chunky arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Where’s mama bear’s love? She chopped liver, or what?” You come into the doorway. Your hair’s a bit disheveled. You have tiny, blue and white plaid shorts on with a shirt that has so many stains on it you might as well consider it tie-dye. You have marinara sauce on your right cheek. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, he thinks. 

“Hi, sweetheart” he says. He gets up from his crouched position, two tiny toddlers hanging around his neck. He kisses you, takes his thumb and wipes that tiny bit of marinara sauce off your cheek. You look at his bandaid and give him a look. “Couldn’t help it” he says. 

-

After dinner, after the girls’ bath, after three different stories, after a small glass of wine each and a rewatch of something neither of you know the name of, you rest your head on his shoulders. 

“How are you feeling about it?” You ask. 

“What?” he asks. His eyes started to close a bit, he’s not fully sure he heard your question. 

“About the snip” you say, giggling a bit. 

He snorts, “you 10-years-old?” 

“I mean it, Carm! Be honest!” You say, you lightly slap his arm, settling right back into him after. 

“Jesus, woman.” He laughs “Uhm, I mean, good? Like this, like right here - uh, you and me, and my two cubs, my Ellie and my Charlie, my beautiful wife, this is it, you know? I just feel like our life right now is perfect. And you have done everything - so much for me. For the girls. So I’m good, I’m happy to do this. I wanna keep this, just this. This is perfect.” 

[froizetta]

WIP Wednesday (but late again)

I'm not entirely sure how two days have passed since Wednesday, when I planned to post this. But anyway, here's an excerpt from the missing scene chapter of my ongoing superbat identity porn fic Love Triangles. No context really needed, except for that Bruce has picked Clark up in a bar, but neither of them know the other's identity. (FYI there's nothing explicit here yet!)

Wayne, unsurprisingly, had a driver.

“Well, I was hardly going to drive myself back from a bar, was I?” was all he said when Clark blinked at it dumbfoundedly. Wayne sent him a wink and added, “I’m a responsible citizen, after all.”

Wayne held open the door for him and gestured with a little flourish, as if Clark were a debutante heading off to her first ball and Wayne her gallant escort. As befit a proper young lady, Clark politely refrained from mentioning either of Wayne’s very public DUI charges and climbed in. The interior was predictably luxurious, plush leather and what was, unbelievably, real mahogany paneling. In a car.

How the other half lived, huh?

Wayne slid in after him and relaxed back into his own seat, loosened his tie, undid the top two buttons with a flick of his wrist. The effortless elegance in the gesture was almost more distracting than the inches of revealed skin around his collar bones.

“Just so we’re on the same page going into this,” Wayne was saying while Clark was still staring, “I have no expectations of you beyond tonight. I hope you don’t have any of me. Otherwise, I’d be happy to drop you off anywhere you’d like. Just say the word.”

Clark shook his head. “No. I, ah. I kind of assumed this was a…one night stand. That’s fine.” The words felt awkward on his tongue like this, as a thing happening to him and not to someone else. But Wayne seemed pleased enough with the response and gave the driver an address in central Metropolis.

Part of Clark had nervously expected Wayne to inch closer then, drape himself over Clark like he had at the bar; to crawl into his lap and whisper filthy promises into his ear. But Wayne remained a perfect gentleman, making polite conversation and all the right interested noises.

Clark couldn’t entirely tell whether he was disappointed or relieved.

It all felt so normal that Clark made it through the rest of the car ride, through the opulent lobby of the hotel, and all the way up to the entrance of Wayne’s suite before what he was about to do really hit him.

It was one thing to say, in theory, that he was going to have sex with someone he just met; it was a whole other thing to actually do it. Doing it meant actually doing it, kissing and touching, figuring out how much tongue was too much tongue and where to put his hands. What if he did it wrong? Not that he’d had any complaints before, but…but what if his ex-girlfriends were just being polite, for the several years they were together? Or what if he’d somehow forgotten how do this in the year plus since the last time he’d dated anyone?

He was distracted enough by the thought that he almost didn’t register Wayne taking his hand and tugging him into the elevator for the penthouse suite. But then the doors were sliding shut and Wayne was pressing him gently into the wall of the elevator, a hand cupping his jaw. He was close, close enough that Clark could see the gray flecks in his irises and faded scars along his jaw.

His breath caught in his throat. Wayne was watching him from beneath thick, dark eyelashes, his stare oddly penetrating.

“You seem nervous. Is this okay?” he asked softly.

Clark nodded. Wayne smiled. And then he was being kissed, a soft slide of lips and the gentle scrape of 5 o’clock stubble along his jaw.

It turned out that Clark didn’t need to worry about forgetting how to do this. His groan felt like a sigh of relief, a weight lifted, all that lingering anxiety dissipating with the simplicity of it all. He easily pulled Wayne closer, hands settling around his waist; angled his head to make the slide sweeter. Wayne chuckled against his lips and pressed closer, his free hand sliding up Clark’s back and gripping the fabric of his suit.

Distantly he heard the ding of the elevator arriving and Wayne was pulling away. Clark finally drew another breath. Wayne’s eyes were a touch darker than they had been.

“C’mon,” Wayne murmured and led him out of the elevator by the hand.

[cas-skz]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 3.2)

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Word Count: 1,057

Summary: Meeting again so soon doesn't give you much time to think about your new realization

Warnings/Tags: 18+, MDNI, Language, Alcohol, Mature Content, Fluff

Written by: @littleforeignaffairs

Writers note: Hi all, Thank you for reading and showing your interest! The story is not over, but this will be the last part posted for a short time. This is my last completed part. So please, stay tuned ❤️

Part 1.1 Part 1.2 Part 2.1 Part 2.2 Part 3.1

Walking from the office to your place felt like you had been set on auto pilot. Your mind empty from every though except why Mr Choi would be so upset. Other than the obvious: He's your boss. You probably put him in a really bad situation.

"Wait" You stop dead in your tracks. "He started it!"

You scoff to yourself, slamming your door shut after entering your place. You undress from your office clothing, dropping your panties down your legs. You stare down at them, stained with a mix of both yours and his cum. The thought of it was exciting still. But the thoughts of lust turned to guilt once again.

“No, stop it” You scold yourself. You’re both equally at fault. You nod once, reassuring yourself and get into the shower.

* *

You walk into the club, heading straight for the back. You catch Tiff’s eyes at the bar and lift your hand to wave. She raises her brows, motioning at the bar with her chin.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Of all nights, why did he have to come now. You sigh heavily, sneaking to the back room to change.

“He was asking for you” Tiffs voice cut the silence.

“Doesn’t he always” You retort. Tiff looks at you taken a back.

“Sorry” You say quickly. You tuck your stray hairs under your wig cap, resting your wig on top. Tiff lays a hand on your shoulder

“What the hell happened to you”

You groan and turn to face Tiff

“Well lets see, about 2 hours ago his dick was inside me and I rode the shit out of him”

"What!?" Tiff bursts into laughter “This is gold”

“Tiffany!” You scowl.

You rarely use her name in full, so she knew the frustration you felt. You turn away from her, pointing at your back for her to tie you up.

“Listen” She started “He comes looking for you here a couple times a week. Why don’t you just confront him. It’s clear he likes you”

You look at yourself in the mirror as Tiff tightens your corset top. You straighten your masquerade type accessory on your face and sigh, looking yourself over.

“Because” You sigh “Here, he is a client. I’m another girl here to serve drinks and entertainment. At the office..” You pause a moment thinking of how black and white your two jobs were. Yet they were the same. “I guess I serve his every need at the office too”

You breathe in deeply, preparing yourself and walk out front. You greet a few customers the same way you usually do: a couple smiles, some hands teasingly touching their chests or shoulders. It felt as normal as it usually does. But once you get to the bar and see San sitting there, the feeling of bricks lay on your chest. You swallow hard and resume your act. You touch your hand onto his shoulder, grazing your fingers from one to the other

“Papi, you came to see me” You smile sweetly at him.

He turns his head slightly to look at you. His face tinted with a rosy colour, eyes slightly heavy. He’s been drinking, clearly already had a buzz on. You kept your smile, though you felt a tinge of disappointment.

"Is he drunk because of what happened"

His arm slips around your waist, tugging you into him. His lips pull into a goofy smile,

“Always, for my number one girl”

You press your lips together tightly, sighing a little laugh.

"Even though an hour ago you were fucking your assistant"

You watch him as he picks up his glass, the ice clinking around. He takes another sip. You feel awkward, almost like you’re with a married man. But the longer you think about it, you feel like an idiot.

"I’m jealous… of MYSELF."

You sigh, slinging your arms around his neck.

“What can I do for Papi tonight?”

The smile on his face slowly disappears. He raises a hand at the bar tender, signaling for another drink.

“Sit with me” He murmurs, looking back to you. You purse your lips slightly and nod. You start to sit on the stool next to him, but he grabs your hand.

You look at your hands then to his face

“Can we use a back room” You stay silent for a moment.

You glance around the club, looking for Tiff. You see her across the way, you cock a brow and motion towards the back with your head. She nods. You smile softly at Mr Choi and start guiding him out back.

You allow him to sit in the solo seat, he keeps hold of your hand. You keep your eyes on him, watching him carefully. He doesn’t appear to be that drunk. He looks up to you and smiles gently. He pats his lap lightly and gives a tug on your hand to sit.

You sit on his lap, placing your held hands on your lap. The two of you sat in silence for a while. The room feels heavy. Though you're curious, you don’t want to push Mr Choi to speak. Your job is to do ask he requests, which right now is to sit with him.

Mr Choi leans back a little in the chair, keeping his hands with yours. He intertwines his fingers with yours and runs his thumb on the back of your hand. Every once in a while, you had a night like this with him. One where you just sat together quietly. You always assumed that it was just because of stressful days from work and life in general.

It made you feel sad for him. That he didn't have anyone to talk to, or just spend time alone with. It feels different knowing you may be the cause of his hindrance tonight. It hurt your heart more.

You separate one of your hands from his and rest it on the nape of his neck. You gently smooth the back of his hair. He closes his eyes as a small smile pulls his lips. The sight makes you smile as well, knowing that you’re able to be a comfort to him. Your mind thinks back to Tiffs words

“Do you like him. Like, you know LIKE like”

You chew on your bottom lip

I do…

[nation-wide-is-bi-your-side]

this was such an incredible episode oh my god. sorry for shitty formatting am on mobile

- jamie running while tied to roy’s bike in the opening

- jack giving the signed dickens first edition to keeley with the message to make her laugh

- “right?” “YES CHEF”

- sam wanting the restaurant to be absolutely perfect for his dad!!!

- more focus on sam this episode in general. i missed him in sunflowers!!

- beard’s total football powerpoint presentation

- trent’s funny little skeleton shirt :)

- “I WAS ROBBED!” jamie i would die for you

- “ITS MY MOTHER PROUDLY DISPLAYING HER VIBRATOR ON THE BEDSIDE TABLE!!!”

- barbra are you okay??

- keeley “oh we’re just good friends!!!” jones

- “how do you tell if a girl likes you or is just being nice?” “you can’t” x100

- “well marriage is a big commitment you know” “no im talking about pegging”

- the entire Pegging Conversation

- baz stating that his brother is a male whore

- “but luckily i’m in a good mood (: so you’ve only gotta do that for tHE WHOLE FUCKING PRACTICE!!!!”

- despite being in the background roy was an absolute gem this episode

- keeley being so awkward with jack

- jack declaring their relationship to the office

- barbra’s “no that’s enough dan, thank you”slay

- rebecca and keeley talking about mr amsterdam and jack

- “gezellig 🥰 but yeah i would have liked to have seen his penis”

- the comparisons between jack and rupert are making me nervous

- rebecca doesn’t want keeley to get hurt the same way she did 😭

- nate made his niece’s vision happen 🥺

- his rejection monologue

- brenda barot that evil woman

- sam was so polite in his call out but that bitch was awful to him

- nate’s awkwardness with jade

- “i like to eat my breakfast without chewing”

- beard and will switching places

- WILL’S PAPER BEARD

- poor leslie in this episode for nothing but burns

- tedtrent content

- lasso my man cool it with the heart eyes

- the hostess wondering where nate is

- THE DICK STRING????

- baz just wanted to be joined with his homies by the penis 😔

- ROY’S EVIL LITTLE GIGGLE

- HIS FACIAL EXPRESSION WHEN THEY THOUGHT JAMIE HURT HIS DICK

- his disappointment when jamie’s penis was okay

- GET THAT RACIST BITCH’S ASS SAM

- nate was so proud of his craft project! and it was adorable! and then he tripped and dropped it and it got run over!

- the fact that nate didn’t run away and still asked jade out despite making a fool out of himself in public says A LOT about his growth this season

- jade saying yes with no hesitation! and nate was so happy!

- the restaurant being destroyed fucking gutted me. sam’s devestation and sisi’s quiet anger. god.

- return of the Gay Mug™️

- “next time we do this drill, we tie multiple guys’ dicks to one guy’s dick”

- ted looking at trent like he’s the single most important person in the world. tedtrents we are FEASTING this episode

- toheeb jimoh fucking blew me away this episode. the way he portrayed sam’s rage and heartbreak and frustration was incredible.

- sam’s dad being so open and warm and kind and loving in a show largely about shitty fathers. sam breaking down in his arms and ola just holding him. can this man adopt me please?

- “you do it for yourself.”

- “don’t fight back. fight forward.”

- the awkwardness between ola and rebecca cause sam told him about sleeping with her. tension so thick you could cut it with a mf butter knife

- the bar trio having full trust in ted and the team

- “since i was a straight fella” yeah okay mr ted “heart eyes for trent independent” lasso

- mustache lore

- “ass-squatch.” “you’re on fire :)” “make it stop” the AGONY in roy’s eyes

- return of the middle finger! trent rubbing his face as he flips jamie off lmao

- ur so right jamie let me kiss you on the mouth as a treat

- “but for the first time in weeks, the greyhounds are showing signs of life!”

- TRENT’S ENTIRE TOTAL FOOTBALL MONOLOGUE. sweaty, out of breath, hair a disaster, babbling intelligently about how it’s going to work.

- “doesn’t even matter what number four is (awkward arm gesture)”

- “what a fucking dork” “yeah. but he’s our dork <3”

- NATES DATE!!! ADORABLE!

- THE TEAM WORKING TOGETHER TO FIX THE RESTAURANT i could kind of see it coming but STILL! THEY LOVE AND SUPPORT SAM SO MUCH!! AND SAM DESERVES ALL OF IT!!!

- “well, we all just asked ourselves “what does the situation need?”” “and we thought your situation needed us :)”

- ola was so touched that sam named the restaurant after him <3

- the episode ending with sam, ola, and simi dancing around and cooking while the himbos have a blast in the dining room. chefs kiss. perfect episode start to finish

[heavensenthearty]

His Majesty and Her Excellency

Rating: G Fandom: Avatar The Last Airbender Relationships: Katara/Zuko, Toph Beifong & Katara Tags: POV First Person, Fluff without Plot, Romance, Friendship/Love, Cultural References, Badass Katara, I Have No Interest Or Intention Or Disposition To Follow Canon Summary: Katara’s voice comes from behind my back while I struggle to tie my hanbok. She isn’t wearing Fire Nation clothes today but a black and blue wool dress from the Water Tribe that she cut for the warm weather. Through the mirror, I see her staring at me, smirking at my incapacity to fix my own clothes. ⬇Read under the cut.⬇

I seriously hate formal robes. I hate formalities, I hate pretentiousness, I hate all of it—which is bound to be awkward if I’m going to be Firelord, a politician. 

“You need some help?”

Katara’s voice comes from behind my back while I struggle to tie my hanbok. She isn’t wearing Fire Nation clothes today but a black and blue wool dress from the Water Tribe that she cut for the warm weather. Through the mirror, I see her staring at me, smirking at my incapacity to fix my own clothes.

(The Water Tribe colors and jewelry are a stark contrast against the walls painted in garnet red.) (And yet they harmonize somehow.)

“Yes, please.” I drop my arms and turn in defeat.

Her smirk widens into a smile and suddenly today isn’t a bad day anymore; the flowing ends of her skirt brush her legs as she walks closer. 

“How is it that I can break out of prison but I can’t tie a ribbon goreum?” I say.

“You’ll learn.” She takes the silk strings and passes them one over the other. “You have an entire life and an entire new wardrobe waiting for you.” 

“Yeah…” 

Now I’m who stares at her. All the sun she got from surfing has cleared her hair, her eyes pop out more than usual since her skin is tanner too, and aside from her necklace, she’s wearing some Water Tribe bracelets carved in a pattern of polar bearfoxes, snow wolfleopards, and crescent moons; she told me it was for a popular legend in the Southern Water Tribe: the bearfox was jealous of the wolfleopard’s closeness to the moon, so it tried to attack the wolf, but the moon kept changing forms and taking away the light so the bearfox couldn’t find it.  

She is so beautiful.

“Are you nervous?” she asks me, still tying the strings.

“No… And you?”

“No.” She drops the strings once the ribbon is done. 

I take her hand. “Are you sure? It feels like you’re shaking a little.”

“Well… I can’t imagine the Fire Nation giving me a big, warm welcome.”

“Katara, because of the war, the military got all the resources, civilians were left with nearly nothing. You freed them.” “We freed them.”“And you are part of that, and you deserve the recognition. Once the economy recovers, I will build you a statue and name it ‘Our Savior’.”She giggles. “Mmm… If you insist.”And then she kisses me. “I love you.”“I love you, too.”

I kiss her hand before we both go outside for the speech.

As we wait for the announcer to introduce us to the crowd, I wait in the back along with Zuko and our friends until we are called on stage. My talk with him earlier eased my nerves, but they didn’t go away completely. It’s not every day that your boyfriend is crowned emperor of a country, and it’s especially hard when that country doesn’t like you very much. Maybe he is right and I’m seeing things the wrong way, but maybe it’s also better to expect the worse so I won’t be disappointed later.

He squeezes my hand. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Just a little… stage fright.”

“I don’t know why,” Toph chimes in, popping fireflakes into her mouth, “you’ve been in front of crowds and armies before.”

“But this is different.”

“Why?”

“Because…” And at that moment, my mind goes blank. I can’t come up with a single answer for Toph and her wits because this really isn’t any different. “Aren’t you a little young to be so insightful?”

Zuko laughs.

“Nah, when you and Sparky Lord over here have children of your own, you’ll see how fast kids grow.” And she bumps me in the shoulder.

“Toph!”

With her name alone, I sum up the happiness I feel at her affection—(no matter if it bruises)—and my astonishment that she would take things between me and Zuko so far ahead. And when he is right here!

Outside, on the stage, the announcer is still talking to the crowd: “And our heroes are…”

“This is it! This is it!” Sokka is grinning ear-to-ear.

Outside, the announcer says our names and titles: “Firelord Zuko, Son of Gilded Blood, His Majesty! The Children of Southern Waters, the Mighty Master Katara, Beatitude Herself; and the Brave Sokka, the Greatest Genius! Their Excellencies! The Formidable Toph Beifong, the Warrior! And the Benevolent Avatar Aang, the Pure, His Exalted Holiness!”

As he speaks, we all step onto the stage to receive a roaring applause from the crowd.

I try to search for some familiar faces, my dad, Uncle Bato, Haru, the Duke, but there are just too many people. As far as I can see though, they are all smiling, cheering, and still applauding. I glance at Zuko and my entwined hands, and then our eyes meet for a brief moment, he already has his crown on and it feels beautiful to be next to him today. Moreover, it feels amazing to hear all the people chanting our names and celebrating us—not because I am self-centered, but because it sounds like Zuko was right, we did something good and they are thankful for it. I never had so many people knowing my name and being so willing to scream it from the rooftops. Some of them are doing so now.

I don’t even know who’s more thankful for this moment, if me, them, or Zuko.

[one-shot-plus-size]

Dispersion - One shot series inspired by gifs

Imagine : Olivia provides entertainment for her fiancé Sebastian before the interview.

Paring: Sebastian Stan and Olivia Mazru

Word : 855

One shot

Olivia sat on the couch in Sebastian's dressing room and watched as he put on his suit. She smiled to herself when he once again cursed under his breath while trying to tie his tie, he had always been hopeless at it. Liv put her foot down and waited for her fiancé to give up and turn to her for help, which was to happen in the near future. Sebastian stared at his reflection in the mirror and muttered discontentedly to the delight of his fiancée. He raised his head and looked at her in the mirror, snorted at her wide smile. Liv reached out to him and moved her fingers invitingly. Sebastian turned away defeated by his usual tie and approached her. He fell between her knees, Liv took in his beautifully styled hair and kissed him gently on the forehead.

- The tie defeated you darling ? - she smiled stroking his cheek. 

- I hate them - he muttered under his breath - will you tie it for me ?

Sebastian sent her the most puppy dog eyes he could do. 

- You don't have to ask honey - she grabbed his tie between her fingers and tied it just below his neck. 

She tightened the knot under his neck, adjusted his shirt and pulled him close by the material. Sebastian rose slightly and hovered over her, resting his hands on the back of the couch. 

- What would my kitty want ? - he purred right next to her lips. 

- Maybe some kind of thanks for his help ? - she raised her eyebrows.

The man smiled gently and kissed his fiancée as a thank you for his help with the tie. Liv moved her hand from his tie, to the nape of his neck pulling him tighter to her. Her hand slid into his perfectly coiffed hair, Sebastian groaned when she pulled at it. He pulled away from her lips and kissed his nose. 

- You ruined my perfect hairstyle,- he smiled at her. 

- And I'm not at all sorry about that," Liv smiled broadly. 

She moved her hands to his vest and undid a few buttons all the while smiling innocently. The man lowered his head and watched her hands shaking his head with disapproval. 

- I have a show coming up in a little while,- he muttered.

- You still have twenty minutes to start,-  Liv moved her lips to his neck and then his ear, - I'll help you relax.

  Sebastian glanced at his watch, smiled gently and kissed his fiancée. He could use a break from the interview and a moment to relax, his hands slipped under the woman's shirt and rested on her breasts. Their size suited his hand perfectly, fitting perfectly in his palm. Just as he was about to slide her blouse off her body a furious knocking sounded at his door. 

- Fuck, I forgot,- Sebastian growled and pulled away from his fiancée and walked to the door.

He swung it open and peeked through it then turned his head to Liv who was giggling while sitting on the couch. 

- Stop,- he shouted to her and walked out the door, closing it behind him. 

Olivia sat on the couch and stared at the door laughing all the while under her breath, imagining how awkward Sebastian must look now trying to keep calm and not show that he was excited. Liv knew very well that Sebastian would take revenge on her for this but she was ready for it. Sebastian returned to the room after a few minutes and immediately threw himself at his woman. Olivia laughed out loud at her man's efforts, he wanted to get into her body as soon as possible. 

- Are you that desperate ? - she moaned when he pulled down her panties.

- No. - he growled, - I had to explain through you why I look like this. 

He unzipped his pants, pulled out his penis and slid into her pussy. He immediately imposed a brutal bluntness, Liv knew he wasn't doing it out of anger or disappointment, she drove her nails into his back and moaned. The man leaned into her and kissed her passionately, all the while bumping his hips against her.

- No matter how many times I'm in that pussy she always squeezes me so fucking well - he sucked the skin on her neck - it always fits me so well.

Liv momentarily lost her clear train of thought as Sebastian pounded into her like this. He had a mission and Liv knew it, she lifted his hand that was squeezing her waist and slipped his fingers into her mouth. She knew what he liked and how he reacted to it all. 

- Such a good girl for me, always so good,- he growled. 

He could feel the orgasm building up in his woman because she was squeezing him impossibly hard, and he was already on the edge. He pounded into her all the way and came with a moan hiding his face in her neck, Liv followed right behind him squeezing him tightly. Sebastian took a moment to recover, kissed Liv and smiled softly. 

- We will repeat this at home.

[littlemissnoname13]

Leap Years & Forgotten Promises (S.B)

Summary: She leaves, He stays. Their last day spent together falls on the twenty-ninth of the second month and they make a promise to meet every four years, as the leap years come and go. Only, life has other plans.

Warnings: angst, some swearing. Please Note that they are still in school for the first half of the story so the story is majorly sfw. There is one mention of sex in the later half, when they are old enough. As always, read at your own discretion. (Not proofread!)

**the smaller fonts are their letters going back and forth**

Words: Almost 2000

A/n: I mostly only write for Draco but I’d been thinking about Sirius a lot in the last few days 😭 so I made an exception. I wrote this story in under an hour as a writing sprint exercise while working on two other fics. I wasn’t gonna post it Ah, what the hell.

Masterlist

February 29, 1976 Hogsmeade Village

He orders a simple cup of tea and she sips on her Butterbeer with a stripy straw, nodding at his every word.

He is saying something about a practical joke on Severus, and a map. Also, something about his cousin, Bellatrix. She can see his lips moving but the words seem unclear to her. Everything is a ringing white noise.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, setting aside his cup. He leans forward from across the table to observe her—worry creasing his perfectly arched brows.

“Nothing.” She lies, feigning a tight lipped smile.

Obviously, He doesn’t buy it. He just goes quiet for a second, continuously observing her nervous ticks. She is twirling her wand, fidgeting with the end of her tie. There is a poor serviette ripped to tiny shreds next to her.

“You just seem a bit disturbed today.” He says, placing his palm face down on top of hers.

She bites her tongue to keep it all inside but it comes out in an anxious sigh. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Come on. It can’t be that bad.” He shakes his head and gives her a reassuring smile. Dark strands of unkempt hair free falling on his face. “You probably miss your Aunt, and your normal life.”

“But I’m happy here.” She protests, removing her hand from underneath his. He too retreats and leans back against his chair, suddenly awkward.

“I don’t know, Sirius. I just—there is just something inside of me, telling me to stay put.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“There is just this gut feeling. It’s like a chill in my bones, I keep waking up in cold sweat, I don’t know—but I wonder if something bad is going to happen. Am I going insane?” She lets out a semi hysterical laugh. “Please tell me I’m not going insane.”

He too goes stiff for a second and looks at her—the brightness in his eyes fading a little. He exhales deeply and gives her a pained look.

“You’re not going insane, believe me.” He goes on. “I know you’ll be back soon, but my mind is coaxing me to blurt out fucking parting remarks.”

She swallows hard.

They’d grown increasingly close over the last year. Bonding over their messy families and what not.

Just like her, he’d never truly belonged. Just like her, he was the black sheep, the prodigal offspring, the family disappointment.

The only difference?

If her muggle parents thought she was to be burnt to the stake for practicing witchcraft, his pure blood fanatic parents had erased every mark of him from their family tree.

Apparently like calls to like.

They are drawn to each other as if they are kindred spirits, twin souls, two halves of the same battered and broken whole.

One day, she gets condemned to detention with a trouble-making Gryfifndor, and the next moment they are sitting down by the lake, exchanging anecdotes of their shared trauma, juxtaposing the respective damage caused by said trauma.

They are screaming at the wind, laughing at the absurdity of it all, reaching for eachother till they are at arm's length.

She doesn’t remember who made the first move nor can she recall how it happened.

All she knows is the texture of his long dark hair that turns a shade lighter under the sun and how it feels fisted in her hands when he kisses her.

He kisses her often.

In between classes, tucked away behind alcoves blanketed in shadows. He curls up next to her in his animagus form and they sometimes fall asleep to vinyls playing Fleetwood Mac songs on repeat. He claims the best song from the record is you make loving fun and she agrees to disagree.

He never goes so far as to explain what is going on and she doesn’t bother to ask him.

Sometimes, he writes to her in the middle of the night and the letters appear on the pages of a special diary disguised as a copy of Ariel by Sylvia Plath. Sirius owns an identical diary, disguised as a dusty old transfiguration book and together they form a passageway for communication.

Their own little secret.

“It’s almost three.” The nervous bobbling of his leg, brings her back to the present day and she quickly gulps the last of her Butterbeer.

She knows James is waiting for Sirius at the Library. She knows this is the last time she’ll see him before she leaves and it is better to rip the bandaid off now.

“Let’s get going then.” She shrugs, getting up and quickly pushing her chair back towards the table. He does the same and follows her outside.

They walk in silence. Him, with his hands stuffed in pockets, his kicking rocks while she rubs her arms to fight the February chill.

“Do you want my jacket? Here have my jacket.” He murmurs, draping it on her shoulder despite her many protests. If that wasn’t enough, Sirius rests an arm on her shoulder so they can huddle close to fight the crisp air.

“You didn’t have to do that, Sirius.”

He proceeds to ignore her and he begins to hum the lyrics to You Make Loving Fun. Only, the lyrics are all jumbled up. She doesn’t care however. It’s the best rendition of the song, despite all the added swears and profanity.

For a second, she forgets that she’s leaving and begins to laugh at him, laugh with him. He in return, tickles her sides.Everything is the way it should be. Snow melting off tree tops, sunlight streaming in through fluffy little clouds, and his glorious smirk giving her life. She wants to make a snowglobe out of this moment. She wants to take a piece of him with her.

“Are you going to leave without kissing me goodbye?” He crosses his arm, like a little boy throwing a tantrum. She begins to chuckle but stops midway, realising they have reached the crossroads.

This is the hard part.

He is going back to the castle. And she is going to her Portkey.

Without thinking, she lunges at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and pressing her face on his face till they collide in a kiss goodbye.

Then she moves away and takes two steps backwards. Handing him his jacket.

“Keep it.” He insists but she refuses.

“Stay in touch, Sirius Black.” She says her parting remarks and turns away.

“Wait.” He reaches for her hand and she stops without much effort. If he tells her to stay with him now, she knows deep down she’ll find a way to stay.

But the words never come. Instead, he hands her a small compass. The three point arrow pointing due north. It’s made of pure gold.

“What’s this?” She asks.

“It’s a compass Andromeda got for me and I want you to have it.” He smiles a little.

“I couldn’t possibly—” she begins to protest but he shakes his head, clasping her fingers shut around the compass.

“Find your way back to me.” He says, taking a step back. “It’s a leap year. Promise to bring this back to me during the next leap year.”

“Only if you promise to meet me every leap year.”

“I promise.”

“I promise.” She echoes, fighting the dampness in her eyes as she reluctantly turns away.

1977

I don’t write as often as I’d like but I think of you. Often. All the time.

Sirius

I think of you too

1978

End of an Era Mr.Black ! Here’s to being done with the N.E.W.T.S. Here’s to you!

Sometimes I just wish I could be down by the lake next to you again. I just want to lay there and tell you about the things you’ve missed, talk about life. Other times, I just want to push you to the nearest wall and fuck you.

Both. I want both.

Fuck, I miss you.

I miss you too.

1979

Prongs is getting married later today. I have never seen him act like this. He’s got this little grin on his face that never goes away. He stares into the distance and sighs in quiet contentment over and over again. As the best man, should I be worried? Are these symptoms of some bizarre sickness? He wrote in his vows that he’d be there for her in sickness and in health but this is another level. Help me out here.

Yours,

Sirius

It’s love. He’s in love. You idiot

I say this way too often but I do miss you so. I also miss my compass and I’m hoping to be reunited with it soon. -S.B. (P.s. You make loving fun.)

29th February 1980, Hogsmeade Village

For the first time in what feels like forever, she feels a sudden rush of happiness running through her veins.

She is so ecstatic to the point where she is paranoid. It's because she’s always afraid of happiness. In her own mind, she thinks it’s best if she remains neutral and alert. That way she can't get blindsided by life’s uncertainties.

These four years have been terribly long. She wishes she’d kept his jacket. Maybe that would have gotten her through her bad days.

She looks at the compass in her hand and the top of the three point star points north—points at him.

Sirius Black, standing ahead of her, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. A typical posture for him but a stance that takes her to memories from another place. Another time.

His back is facing her so he doesn’t see her yet. She takes this as a good thing. That way, she’ll get to tackle him straight to the ground and bury her face into the crook of his neck.

The anticipation of what he said, the thing about the wall still making her stomach flutter. She wanted it to be him. Her first.

She almost does it, almost jumps him. Halfway there, someone else beats her to it.

The girl wraps her hands around his waist, and leans forward to kiss his cheeks. Before she can witness anything more, she apparates away.

The compass lands with a loud thud on her filigreed wallpaper when she get back home and the glass covering the three point stars breaks into smithereens. Springs fall out of the back and the star no longer points north. It doesn’t point anywhere.

She may not know it yet, but she’s lost her way back to him. Maybe even forever.

***

She doesn’t come. He waits all day but she doesn’t come.

The only person he sees that say is the hostess from the nearby inn. She is about his age and shamelessly flirts with him everytime he stops for a Firewhisky.

The next day, still determined, Sirius goes to the same spot and stands out there in the cold till he can’t feel his fingers. Lily tells him he is going to get hypothermia but he is stubborn. He will wait for her even if he has to stand right in the middle of a spring blizzard.

Hours fly by like mere minutes and his feet are now, knee deep in snow. Moony grips his left arm while James takes his right as they drag him home and hand him a cup of hot cocoa.

The stupid record player is playing Fleetwood Mac’s greatest hits, and as if to taunt him, You Make Loving Fun starts to blast in full volume.

Loving? Fun? Ha.

“What about the pain, McVie?” He yells at the spinning record. “Is that fun for for you? The searing pain?”

1981

“Sirius Black, Arrested by DMLE on 13 counts of Murder”

She fiddles with the broken compass in her hand and lets out a shard hiss when the broken glass pricks her finger.

She’s tried to fix it. A hundred times already.

But it’s one in the morning and sleep with a mixture of mead and wine is getting to her. She’ll try again tomorrow. Maybe the compass will help her find her way back to him.

“Find your way back to me.” She hears his voice reverberate from a leap year ago.

“I promise.” She sobs into her pillow. “I promise.”

FIN.

~~~

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨1

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Yay, mob Clark. And I know what you’re saying right now, enough with Clark Kent! I get it haha. Promise, for a while, this will be the last I do of him. I have Lee fic in the work right now, the early development of medieval Peter, and I’m still sitting on some Loki ft. an exchange student... and then all my other series of course!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stood against the wall, chewing your lip as you looked around the gallery. You should be ecstatic, you should be floating around on a cloud, but all you could feel was crushing anxiety. It was truly a dream come true; your art hanging on the wall. Only three pieces, but it was there, and your name was below it in print.

You tugged on the waist of your dress and teetered in your heels. It was a borrowed outfit, you couldn’t afford anything appropriate to the upscale venue. The classic starving artist, or almost. You slipped your phone from your purse and up your sleeve. You subtly checked the time and for the little chat icon in the corner. Still no message.

Marcus was almost an hour late. He texted just after the event opened to warn you he was caught up with work but you worried he wouldn’t show up at all. It wasn’t his fault his boss was a jackass but you weren’t prepared to face this alone. You dropped your phone back into your slender purse and snapped it shut.

Vanessa, the gallery owner, made you flinch as she appeared almost out of the air. You smiled at her shyly and stopped chewing your lip.

“You should mingle,” she said, “you have an interested buyer. You might have a few more if you come out from the corner.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” you confessed, “I-- thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“You earned it,” she touched your arm daintily, “all those hard hours working the back room, I couldn’t not hang a few pieces.”

You fixed your posture and tried to seem as confident as her. Your income came solely from hours of at-home data entry as you volunteered at the gallery in your few hours between. It was all worth it and maybe if you sold something tonight, Vanessa would feature you work again and you wouldn’t need to spend the bulk of your days staring at tiny font.

“So, where’s this buyer?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s my girl,” Vanessa trilled, “he seems very interested.”

She led you across the room, stopping to greet other artists and old friends with a kiss on the cheek and deep laughter. You’d met them all before as you were often working at these events. It was your first time as one of them.

When at last you neared your little stretch of the wall, a man stood with his head slightly back as he stared at your proto-renaissance portraits. He was tall and his broad shoulders strained the rich fabric of his jacket. His dark hair was neatly parted and a slight curl marked the front above the shadow of scruff poking out along his jawline.

“Mr. Kent,” Vanessa chimed, “I found her.”

He turned to look at you and his deep blue eyes struck you. He smiled between you and the gallery owner, his chiseled jaw even more defined by the gesture.

“This is Mr. Kent,” she introduced you in turn, “I believe he was interested in the larger piece.”

“All three, if you don’t have another buyer lined up,” he intoned, “I think they belong together.”

“All of them?” you raised your brows, “well, I, yeah, I guess--”

“We can put something together for you,” Vanessa interrupted your awkward stuttering, “let me just mark them.”

She took the silver pen she kept on a chain around her wrist and scribbled in the corner of the tags to mark them as sold. You were slightly numb at your disbelief. You were a bit reluctant to part with your work but the check would ease your grief.

“The way you use colours,” he said as he faced the paintings again, “I’ve recently had some work done in my house and I hate the sight of naked walls.”

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped a little closer and looked at your delicate strokes.

“Pardon me,” Vanessa rushed away as she beckoned to one of her assistants and prattled orders.

“Vanessa tells me you’re a new artist,” he said.

“New in a sense,” you said, “I guess, I’m officially an artist now.”

“Oh? I’m flattered. Your first buyer?”

“Besides some online fanart, yeah,” you replied, “so, Mr. Kent, what do you do?”

“Clark,” he corrected, “and a little bit of everything.”

An awkward silence took over and was thankfully interrupted by your name. You turned as Marcus rushed over and his shoes slipped on the polished floor. He reached you and kissed your cheek as he caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in traffic on the way over and then my oil light started flashing,” he gasped out.

“Hey, you’re here,” you rubbed his shoulder and straightened his tie without thinking as it hung at an angle.

“So, you sell anything yet?” he asked.

“Yes, actually, um, Mr-- Clark,” you gestured to the man standing patiently to the side, “he just bought all three.”

“Damn,” Marcus said, “guess I can hold onto my savings.”

“Marc,” you nudged his arm with your knuckles, “you know we can’t afford your cheesiness.”

“Sorry, uh,” Marcus laughed at himself, “I’m Marcus.”

He held out his hand and Clark shook it. His eyes strayed to you as his features sharpened just a little.

“You two…?” he ventured.

“Five years,” Marcus announced, “guess we’re going steady.”

“Oh,” Clark nodded placidly, “are you an artist too?”

“God no, I can hardly write my own name legibly,” Marcus kidded, “I’m a developer.”

“Computers,” Clark mused.

“Yeah, computers,” Marcus scoffed, “and you?”

“Own a couple businesses,” Clark shrugged.

“Must be successful if you can hang around here,” Marcus said and you elbowed him in embarrassment.

“I guess,” Clark smoothed his dark purple jacket and checked his watch, “I’ll let you two be. Maybe I’ll find something to go with these fine pieces.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, “I’m happy to see my work go to a good home.”

“I hope to see more in future,” he returned kindly.

He turned and carried on to the statue constructed of can tabs and greeted another suited man. You looked at Marcus as he leaned in to read the tags beneath your paintings. He stood and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, ten grand?” he hissed.

“Pretty good pay for one night,” you chirped, “glad you could make it.”

“Sorry again, I… I had to redo some code. Adam was in a mood so,” he shook his head and sighed, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s celebrate.” He peeked over at the server with a tray of stemmed flutes, “and you can decide what you’re going to buy me with that check.”

“Hush,” you chided as you took a glass of champagne, “now is not the time to go over bills.”

🎨

At the end of the night, you watched one of the assistants take down your canvas and you helped wrap them in paper and twine. As you finished a loopy knot, you were surprised by the figure beside you. You looked up and set the smallest piece atop the larger ones. Clark smiled as you moved to let him pick them up.

“All yours,” you said, almost mournful to see them go.

“Thanks,” he said as he tucked them easily under his thick arm, “I forgot earlier but do you have a card? Are you open for commissions?”

“You must have a lot of walls,” you looked down and opened your purse, “I have a card and I could try a commission.”

You slid out one of the cards that had lingered in your wallet for more than a year. You handed it to him and he read the flowery font before tucking it away in his jacket.

“I do… have a lot of walls,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll give you a call once these are hung.”

“O-okay,” you kept from wringing your hands and closed your purse, “thank you… again.”

“My pleasure,” assured, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” you said and watched him go.

You let out a breath and smiled to yourself. You would talk to Vanessa and get your cut of the check before you went. Then you could worry about getting Marcus home. He’d had a little too much champagne and you’d left him in the backroom so you could help with the clean-up.

Vanessa bid goodbye to one of her featured artists as you neared. She turned to you and threw up her hands in delight.

“Wonderful, darling,” she said, “you earned that wall.”

“Thanks,” you grinned bashfully.

“Really. That man has never bought a piece before,” she smirked, “I’ve been dying to get into his wallet for years.”

“I never saw him before…”

“Oh, well, yes, he has not been to many of these either. I often see him at other galleries,” she explained, “I hope you have some more for the next.”

“Um, yeah, I should be able to--”

“I’ll have the check for you tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder as her eye was caught by another, “go get your boyfriend out of my studio.”

You accepted your dismissal and turned on your heel. That was just Vanessa, steely but slightly flighty as well. Besides, you were exhausted and you would likely be dragging Marcus into a cab.

You found him slumped at the paint-splattered table. You shook him awake and smiled dopily as he opened his eyes.

“Babe,” he pushed his arm around you.

“Marcus,” you drawled in disappointment, “let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” He looked around and hiccupped, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You had a long day,” you assured him as you rubbed his back and let him lean on you as he stood, “I’m just happy you showed up after all that nonsense.”

“Of course, babe,” he slurred and you helped him through the door.

You kept your head down as you slowly sneaked out past Vanessa but you didn’t miss her side-eye. It was best to be as covert as possible. You came out through the door and nearly dropped Marcus.

“Jesus, can I get a little help?” you snipped as you looked around for a yellow cab.

“Sorry, baby, sorry,” he got his feet flat but it hardly helped take his weight off of you.

You raised your hand to hail a cab and he slipped down your arm. Your ankle bent as you turned to try to catch him before you dropped him entirely. He was saved from hitting the ground as he was caught by another. You looked over his head as he was pushed up to his feet again. 

Clark kept his arm behind Marcus as you stared at him, “oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem,” he said as he steadied your boyfriend, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you lifted your foot and kept the weight off your ankle, “I just need to get a taxi.” You raised your hand again as you tried to see past the large man, “if you don’t mind getting him in--”

“You can ride with me,” he said brusquely as he turned with Marcus and peered back at you, “this way.”

“We can’t--”

“On that ankle,” he said as you began to limp after him, “you won’t get him out on your own.”

“Really, I’m fine--”

“I don’t mind,” he said coolly as he came to a silver sports car and balanced Marcus against him as he opened the door, “I’ll need an address.”

“Uh, oh,” you folded your hands, “thank you. Really, you’ve done too much.”

“It happens. I’ve had these nights,” he put Marcus across the seat and folded his legs up and shut the door, “you can take the front and tell me where I’m going.”

You hesitated and he opened the front door. You neared and hissed as you stumbled on your ankle. You caught yourself on his arm and quickly retracted your hand as you apologized. 

“It’s alright,” he said as you sat in the front seat. He knelt and gently took your ankle. His thumb rubbed the swollen joint, “you really banged yourself up.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him, “thanks.”

He let go and stood. He waited for you to turn your legs into the car and gently closed the door. He rounded to the other side and got in as he fished around for his keys. He turned the engine and gripped the wheel with one hand as he took out his phone. He placed it on the magnetic holder and his fingers flicked over the screen.

“Address?” he asked.

You recited it and winced as Siri responded, ‘calculating route’. You shrunk against the luxury leather and glanced at him. He let out a huff and steered into the mostly empty street.

“I’m sorry about all this--”

“No, don’t be,” he glanced in the rearview, “he must be happy for you.”

“Yeah, uh, I think he is,” you said as he followed the map directions, “I am too. I mean, it will go along way… uh, well, you know, things can be tough or--” you shrugged, “I mean, it’s not about the money.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be paid,” he said lightly, “and I don’t mind paying for good art.”

You looked out the window as your cheeks burned. You could smell his cologne, subtle but strong. You played with your purse as your nerves brewed in your chest. You watched the sidewalks and the street lights as your surroundings grew more familiar.

He pulled up to your building. It wasn’t the greatest area and the brick façade was faded and cracked. Before you could get out, he was at your door. He offered his hand and helped you out as you leaned on the car. He let you go and opened the back and lifted Marcus out. He hooked your boyfriend’s arm over his shoulder and offered his other arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“Look, you don’t-- there’s an elevator.”

“I’d feel better if I got you inside,” he insisted, “especially in this area.”

You relented and took his arm and limped beside him up the steps. You took out your keys and went ahead of him as he dragged Marcus in. You went to the elevator and hit the button. The doors glided open and you stepped inside. He stood close in the small metal box and Marcus murmured dumbly at his side.

The doors dinged and he let you out first. He followed you down the hall and you unlocked your apartment and waved him inside. He carried Marcus to the couch at your direction and you leaned against the armchair as you bent your leg to check your ankle.

“You should put some ice on that,” Clark said as he neared, “get some sleep yourself.”

“Yeah, I will,” you assured, “thank you, again.”

You felt embarrassed as you eyed his expensive suit and looked around your tiny apartment. It must have been laughable to him. He hardly seem bothered as he retreated to the door.

“I’ll let you then,” he said, “and thank you. I really do like your work.”

The door shut in his stead and you heard his footsteps down the long hall until the door at the end swung open. You glanced at Marcus and shook your head. You weren’t as happy to have had him at the show then.

[katsu28]

family ties

pairing: JJ Maybank x Kook!reader

summary: JJ meets Y/N’s family for the first time

warnings: light swearing, Y/N’s dad being a dick

a/n: In the spirit of Thanksgiving and the family tensions that often come with it, I wanted to give y’all some JJ meets the fam content before my family comes over for dinner and I get yelled at again for arguing with my great-uncle about how Thanksgiving is very much not a celebration of the first time the Pilgrims and the Native Americans became friends 😐 But Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it!!

(gif found on google, credits to owner)

“I feel like a monkey.” JJ grumbled, tugging at the collar of his white dress shirt.

“Monkey?” You raised an eyebrow at him, smacking his hands away and straightening his tie for what seemed like the millionth time as you waited for your father to arrive.

“Yeah. You know, like monkey suit?” He shrugged. You rolled your eyes, but you were still smiling nonetheless. “Why am I here again? I mean, like I know your dad only comes to town like twice a year, but why do I have to be here for it?”

“Because my sister has a big mouth and told him I have a boyfriend.” You blurted, smoothing your palms down the lapels of JJ’s suit jacket. “Surprise!”

“Are you serious right now, Y/N?” JJ hissed, staring at you with wide eyes. “I can’t meet your dad!” You shot him a sheepish smile. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this.”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t have come!”

“Exactly!”

“Please, J. Just one dinner, schmooze the hell out of him, then he leaves town and we never have to see him again.” You pleaded, cupping his face in your hands. JJ sighed, turning his head to the side and pressing a kiss to your palm.

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“You’re the best.”

“I hate you.”

-------

Dinner was awkward, to say the least.

Your father wasn’t an intimidating man by any means, but rather a businessman—cold, calculating, plotting his next move at any given moment—and the way he was staring across the table at JJ was not unlike how he would at a rival business. Finally, he spoke.

“So...JJ, is it?” His voice had a sharp edge to it, which was the first sign that things were about to take a turn for the worst.

“Yes, sir.” JJ answered politely.

“You’re from the Cut, I presume.”

“Born and raised, sir.” You saw JJ’s jaw tighten a little bit, but he maintained his composure.

“What are your intentions with my daughter?”

“Dad!” You exclaimed.

“Quiet, Y/N. I asked JJ a question, not you.” He said sharply. “What is a young man like himself doing with my daughter—who as of recently, hasn’t been making very good life decisions. Is it because she’s dating someone like you, JJ? Is her behavior a result of your relationship?”

“Sir—” JJ started, but your father interrupted.

“I didn’t raise my daughter to fool around with boys from the Cut.” He said harshly, spitting out the last word like it tasted foul in his mouth, and turning his glare on you now. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, for this wasn’t the first time your dad had returned home disapproving of your life decisions. You were used to it, but JJ looked like he was getting angry. “Your mother tells me you’ve been sneaking out at night, coming home late. I didn’t raise you to—”

“You didn’t raise me at all.” You snapped.

“Oh shit.” JJ muttered under his breath, so quiet only you heard it.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me, dad. You didn’t raise me. You were never here. And when you did come home, you never bothered to ask me about my life. All you you've ever done is come back here and tell me what a disappointment I am. And guess what?” You laughed bitterly, finally letting out everything you’d been bottling up for the past 17 years. “Nothing’s changed. I’m still the same disappointment I always was. Except this time, I don’t care what you think of me. I’m done trying to please you, because it’s not worth it anymore.”

When you were finished with your rant, you realized that you’d stood up, and everyone was staring at you—your family in shock, JJ with pride. And instead of sitting back down, you left, storming out the front door with adrenaline still pumping through your veins.

“Thanks for dinner!” JJ said hurriedly, stuffing another bite of chicken into his mouth before taking off after you. By the time he’d managed to catch up with you, you were leaning on his motorcycle. “Y’know, I thought I was gonna be the one to ruin that dinner. I’m so glad I wasn’t.”

“Can we just get out of here?” You sighed, dragging a hand through your hair. “I can’t be around any of them right now.”

JJ nodded, tugging his tie loose before swinging his leg over the bike. You settled in behind him, looping your arms around his waist and tucking your chin into the crook of his neck comfortably.

The ride back to the Chateau was short and silent, and the minute you got off the bike, JJ pulled you into a hug, which you gladly accepted.

“How ya feelin’, babe?” He asked softly, rubbing a hand down your back soothingly. The cold metal of his rings felt nice against the heat of your anger on your skin.

“I hate him.” You muttered, voice muffled by his chest.

“I know,” JJ sighed, kissing the top of your head. “Dads are shitty.”

The two of you stood in silence for a while, until he shuffled you over to the hammock a little ways away. He let go of you for a split second, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it to the side before settling into the hammock and reaching out for you once more. You all but collapsed into your boyfriend’s arms, snuggling as close to him as humanly possible as he swung the hammock back and forth leisurely.

“He acts like he’s this amazing father who cares so much about his kids, when really all he cares about is himself and his fucking reputation.” You spat, eyebrows furrowing in anger. “He doesn’t care about me, he never did.”

“I’m sure he did at one point.” JJ trailed his hand down your arm, his touch feather light. “And I’m not defending him at all, I’m just saying that some people care more about themselves than their own kids.”

“It sucks.” You thumped your forehead against his chest, drawing a chuckle from him.

“If it makes you feel any better, the look on your dad’s face when you stormed out—priceless.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. He looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. Couldn’t have done better myself.”

“I really am turning into you, aren’t I?”

“What can I say? I’m very influential.”

“I love you, J.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m really proud of you for standing up to your dad. My badass girl.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: JZX is more politically aware, but mostly lonely. When he learns that JGY is his younger brother he's determined to be a good dage. His only examples however, are LXC, who hes not sure is human, WWX who- just- NO, and NMJ, who despite being his sworn brother seems to HATE JGY? So hes on his own. It can't be that hard right? Getting his mom to stop beating JGY is a good start, maybe helping catch up in training? (JGY is about to get so much awkward affection, it mightsave everything.)

ao3

When Jin Zixuan heard for the first time that his father was acknowledging one of his (many) bastards, bringing him home to be recognized as the Jin-er-gongzi, his first reaction was not, as his mother expected, overwhelming rage and disappointment, the way it was for her.

In fact, it was mostly delight – delight, and fear.

He’d known from a young age that he was never going to get any siblings from his mother, and while he’d known in a vague sort of way that his father as a notorious philanderer with bastards aplenty, it hadn’t ever been relevant to his life on account of the fact that none of them were ever acknowledged. He’d assumed that it would always be that way, and for the first twenty years of his life, it was.

Until now.

He was going to have a brother – no, worse. He was going to bea brother, a big brother; that was a position that came with responsibilities. He had to be a good role model, a teacher of all things good and righteous and proper, but also needed to care for them and take care of them – it was, to be perfectly honest, a brand new experience. Through some trick of fate, Jin Zixuan was among the youngest of his cousins and cohorts of his peers; there was something of an age gap between him and the next set of shidi in his sect, and anyway he’d never been expected to care for his shidi in a parental sort of manner – the Jin sect was too concerned with class to allow such closeness without a blood tie to excuse it.

So he was starting, essentially, from scratch.

It might’ve been smoother and more straightforward if he’d met his brother immediately, fresh from the battlefield where all such divisions were blurred and vague; they could have been shield-brothers, that way, and Jin Zixuan might not know much about brothers, but he had fought in a war and knew that much. But his father had whisked Jin Guangyao (and why was it ‘Guangyao’ instead of ‘Ziyao’?) away immediately, insisting that he needed his help with setting up the Phoenix Mountain hunt, so they hadn’t had a chance to meet at that stage. Jin Zixuan realized, of course, that organizing the Phoenix Mountain hunt was a big deal and, probably, a way for his father to show that he trusted his newest son, so he stepped back and kept to himself…well, mostly.

There was that incident with Jiang Yanli.

Either way, though, he didn’t have a chance to get to know Jin Guangyao until they were both back at Jinlin Tower, where the strict rules of etiquette and formality reigned supreme, and when they did Jin Guangyao was perfectly polite and gracious and incredibly fake. It was then that Jin Zixuan realized that he really, truly had no idea how to connect with another person if they weren’t making just about all the effort, and furthermore started to worry that he was being a bad big brother.

Naturally, this called for research.

“Yes, dear,” A-Li said, hiccupping with laughter. She’d agreed to walk in the gardens with him again, and since they were engaged now they could even be left alone – in fact, they were left alone a bit more often than they probably ought to be, which was likely his mother’s hint that children would be better obtained sooner rather than later and little things like marriage dates oughtn’t get in the way of that. “That makes perfect sense. Lots of research. Studious, serious research. What else could you possibly do?”

“You’re laughing at me,” Jin Zixuan said suspiciously. “Definitely at and not with. Have I done something wrong?”

“Not at all! I think it’s quite charming that you think this is the most straightforward way to bond with someone, instead of, say, just going and talking to the person directly – really charming. Delightful. Really! Don’t mind me one bit.” She wiped her eyes. “Now, tell me, who are you planning on talking with first for your ‘research’? Chifeng-zun?”

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jin Zixuan said. “I mean, I also thought about him first, since his younger brother is a half-brother as well, but they’ve known each other for ages and ages, haven’t they? Chifeng-zun all but raised his younger brother – he’s more of a parent than a brother! And, well, you know, A-Yao and him…”

“They don’t really get along,” Jiang Yanli agreed. “You’re right, he’s probably not the best person to ask. Who else, then? Zewu-jun?”

“I don’t think I could live up to his example even if he sat down and advised me on how to do it,” Jin Zixuan said sincerely. “I mean, he’s just – you know? He’s perfect.”

“Too perfect,” Jiang Yanli agreed, and that was why he loved her quite so desperately. “Almost like a painting – nice to admire from afar, but a little lifeless up close…anyway, you wouldn’t want Jin-er-gongzi to end up like Hanguang-jun, would you?”

Jin Zixuan most certainly did not want an overly rule-abiding, stiff-faced disciplinarian as a younger brother. No thanks!

“So he’s out,” Jiang Yanli mused. “Who else is left?”

Jin Zixuan coughed. “Meaning no offense,” he said. “But, uh…I don’t think it’d be appropriate…”

“Oh, no, definitely don’t use A-Xian as a role model!” Jiang Yanli appeared mildly alarmed at the thought. “He and A-Cheng love each other, but things were always a little complicated – no, definitely don’t do that.”

Jin Zixuan exhaled in relief: crisis averted.

“Is there anyone else you might ask? I don’t think I know any others of your peers that are older siblings.”

“Not in the Great Sects, no. But anyway, I was thinking…well, I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not –” He wasn’t exactly a strategic genius. “But I was thinking of approaching it from the other direction.”

“Oh?”

“A good older brother is judged primarily by the younger brother, right? If you’re a good older brother on paper but your younger brother hates you, there’s no point. So I was going to ask the younger brothers and see what it was about their older brothers that they liked.”

“An interesting strategy,” Jiang Yanli said.

Jin Zixuan frowned. ‘Interesting’ might be the word most often used when he proposed plans, but it usually didn’t actually mean that the other side agreed with the plan. Certainly Chifeng-zun had said several times that several of his proposed battle tactics were ‘interesting’ and he’d never even once used a single one of them. “What’s wrong with the idea?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing…it’s only…”

“Only what?”

“Think about who you’d be asking,” Jiang Yanli said. “What would Nie-gongzi be likely to say?”

“…probably that a good older brother is one that indulges all his whims, never makes him do anything, and buys him stuff.” Jin Zixuan grimaced. “A-Yao is far too talented for such treatment; he’d think I was being condescending and treating him like a child.”

“Mm, likely yes, I’m afraid. And A-Cheng would probably clam up immediately, refuse to answer, and then, if you did manage to get it out of him, say that a good older brother would be one that was there all the time doing his job.”

“But A-Yao already does his job! If anything, he’s overlyconscientious about it!”

“Exactly.”

“And the only other one to ask is Lan Wangji,” Jin Zixuan realized. “And he won’t say anything at all, because he’s a lump of rock that doesn’t speak!”

Jiang Yanli snorted. It sounded involuntary, distinctly resembled the sound of a pig, and she looked momentarily shocked that the sound had come from her, so he pretended not to notice.

“I’m doomed,” he moaned. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this…A-Li, you must have some other suggestion!”

“Well, I might have one,” she said, and he looked eagerly at her. “It involves you actually having a conversation with A-Yao, though.”

“Oh, well, that’s sure to fail,” Jin Zixuan said, and now she was laughing again. “I mean it!”

“We’ll think of something, I’m sure,” she said, giggling. “Don’t worry. With both of us on the task, I’m sure we’ll get things in proper shape!”

[pocket-ozwynn]

Genesis Day: Chapter 3

[Kaiju!AU]

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Word Count: 4252

CW: Light adult language, gaslighting

Alice stifled a yawn as he tried to keep pace with Lieutenant Sinclair. The lieutenant walked with a stride that suggested she hadn’t allowed herself to relax when she and Alice had taken a break in her room–she was back in her uniform, alert and brisk as ever. Meanwhile, Alice was starting to feel himself crash. He had pulled several all-nighters in the last week, making sure that Lieutenant Sinclair had all the right paperwork she needed for this meeting. And while Lieutenant Sinclair didn’t offer to stay up and help him, Alice didn’t mind–he enjoyed the quiet peace that came with being the only one awake. 

Especially if it meant he could do something to help her out.

Alice was mid-sip of his drink as Lieutenant Sinclair spoke. “Do you have everything?” Lieutenant Sinclair asked as she readjusted her tie.

Alice felt a bit of his Diet Dr. Pepper go down the wrong pipe as he went to reply. Alice paused to cough into the crook of his elbow which earned a slightly perturbed glare from Lieutenant Sinclair.

After he finally caught his breath, Alice sheepishly nodded. “Yes ma’am, I-I got everything right here!” He held up her tablet. He had finally managed to get all of the documents transcribed and had personally ensured everything was neat and orderly–including the encrypted software that Maura had received from the Department of Defense. While he didn’t poke too deeply into the data, he still made sure that everything was downloaded properly.

“Perfect,” Lieutenant Sinclair sighed as she managed a genuine smile. 

Alice’s heart fluttered a bit. He smiled warmly as he held the tablet close to his chest. “This, um…this is going to be big for you, hun. I’m really happy you’re getting this kind of opportunity. And…I’m proud of you.” 

Lieutenant Sinclair’s expression softened. She stepped a bit closer to him and looped her arm through his, which earned a blink of surprise from Alice. Maura never showed public displays of affection…especially not with how much trouble both of them would get into if anyone learned they were in a relationship. And while Alice had always pined for even the briefest sign of affection outside of her quarters, he had never pushed the matter. But with how uncomfortable and uncertain he had been feeling towards Maura…this felt nice. 

“Me too,” Maura whispered. She leaned into him and hummed. “Thank you, Ally Cat.” His lieutenant went quiet…then pulled him a bit closer to her. “It’s really just you and me, huh? Tonight’s going to change everything for us. My rank will be reinstated…” Maura paused to readjust his tie and to just…hold on to it. The gesture made Alice feel a bit uncomfortable.  “And you’ll finally be able to make it up for Camp Fromann.”

The butterflies in Alice’s heart froze. Camp Fromann. He felt an awkward panic rising as intrusive thoughts started to claw at his brain–they started to leave deep cuts in his mind that seemed to bleed anxiety as he became fixated on everything that happened. The training. The accident. The court hearing…

It wasn’t REALLY his fault that Maura got in trouble at Camp Fromann…

…was it? He…couldn’t tell any more. Especially not when Maura had expressed disappointment that he should’ve done more to help her.

For the next little while they walked arm-in-arm in relative silence. The clicking of shoes on linoleum, the faint buzzing of fluorescent lighting, the occasional sip of carbonated caffeine. Maura’s offhand comment had left Alice feeling rather uneasy, and Maura’s arm in his only amplified this.

As Alice attempted to push away the anxious thoughts, he was reminded of something that had been nagging him for the past week or so: he had no idea what to truly expect for Maura’s “meeting.”

While Alice had been the one to do all of Maura’s paperwork for her, he was left relatively in the dark with what the meeting was completely about. Codewords and military jargon aside, Alice had pieced together that they were receiving a shipment from the Department of Defense with one item of undocumented technology simply marked CLASSIFIED–and while Alice viewed “classified information” as a recommendation over dogma, he still wished to respect Maura’s privacy and not pry more than necessary.

And whatever this tech actually was, Maura had implied that it was entrusted to her for a test run; however, that was still incredibly ambiguous and left Alice feeling more anxious than reassured. Was it a new type of radar? A new all-terrain vehicle? A clean energy source? And even if it was any of those things, why was Maura being entrusted with it? And why not one of the higher ranking officers? Especially after Camp Fromann–

Alice instantly felt guilty for that thought. Maura had changed, and Alice made a promise he’d help her. Besides, he sadly doubted he’d get any straightforward answers from the lieutenant.

Alice perked up as he started to recognize the corners they were turning down as they neared Maura’s office–room 116. The lieutenant slipped her arm out from under his and put some space between them once more. 

“What the hell?” Lieutenant Sinclair murmured under her breath as they turned the last corner and were met with not two, but five soldiers in uniform. 

Alice recognized four of the five. Freyja and Ekland he knew by name. The other three soldiers had patches that indicated they were Williams, Delgado, and Hunter–the first two he recognized from the fight, but the third he didn’t. He assumed Hunter was another member of their fireteam given he wore the same patch on his shoulder as the other four.

“Corporal Montayne, Corporal Ekland.” Lieutenant Sinclair put on a polite smile as all five soldiers saluted sharply. “At ease.” She nodded as she carefully studied the other three soldiers. “May I ask who the three of you are? You were at the warehouse too, if memory serves…”

“This is the rest of Fireteam Griffin, ma’am,” Freyja explained with a tired grin as the five of them relaxed their salutes.

“Private First Class Delgado ma’am,” Delgado spoke up. He gestured over towards the other two soldiers. “And this is Specialist Williams and Private Hunter.”

“May I ask what you’re doing here?” Lieutenant Sinclair pressed as she nearly cut off Delgado–Alice was surprised how sharp her words sounded. “I only asked for Montayne and Ekland.”

“It didn’t feel right leaving Montayne and Ekland to take the fall for us, ya’ know?” Williams shrugged. “That’d feel really shitty, so that’s why we’re here. The more the merrier, right?”

“Speak for yourself…” Hunter murmured before getting a hard elbow to the ribs from Delgado.

Lieutenant Sinclair was silent. Alice studied her carefully. He could tell she was upset by this, but Alice struggled to figure out why. It was incredibly sweet and honorable that the rest of Griffin wanted to stick by their comrades, so why would that bother Maura?

Finally Lieutenant Sinclair sighed before forcing another smile. “Very well.” She shot Freyja and Ekland a subtle glare before walking past Fireteam Griffin. “Follow me, and we’ll get started.”

Griffin all exchanged a look before sheepishly shrugging and following after her, though Freyja lagged behind to walk with Alice–the poor man was so tired and out of it, he didn’t realize that his lieutenant had started walking without him. With a yelp, Alice quickly shook himself out of it and hurried after them.

“Hey!” Freyja playfully bumped against Alice. She even shortened her stride a bit to make sure Alice didn’t get left behind. “You okay? I didn’t give you a concussion earlier, did I? You seem a bit out of it.”

Alice squeaked softly at the impact. After stumbling a bit, he giggled and looked up at her. “O-Oh! I’m…I’m totally fine. Um…h-how are you, Miss Freyja?”

“Just Freyja is fine.” Freyja grinned as they walked. “Ready to get ‘detention’ over with. Do ya’ know what the el tee has us doin’ tonight? We’re all placing bets as far as what it’s going to be…”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I only know that it’s some kind of special shipment,” Alice admitted with a sigh. “Some kinda…new technology, I guess.”

Perhaps Alice should’ve been thinking twice about divulging sensitive information, but the words just came so easily as he confided in Freyja. It didn’t help that he was very tired and wasn’t thinking straight.

“Huh…” Freyja pondered this. “Weird. And here I thought we’d be something like scrubbing out the latrines with our toothbrushes…top secret technology shipment wasn’t in the betting pool.”

At the front of the group, Lieutenant Sinclair went to speak to her side–then blinked in bewilderment when she realized that Alice wasn’t at her side. She frowned and looked about before realizing Alice was trailing behind with Freyja. 

The lieutenant scowled. “Beauchamp, I need to speak with you. Now.”

Alice started a bit at hearing his last name. Usually Lieutenant Sinclair never even addressed him in public, let alone use his surname. Alice offered Freyja an apologetic look before hurrying to catch up with her. Freyja raised an eyebrow as she watched him run off…It sparked something in her brain, and Freyja couldn’t help but feel her cheeks grow hot. Alice had had a moment of panic when he heard his name called like that, and Freyja couldn’t deny she felt an overwhelming urge to just…keep him safe.

Freyja quickly felt silly for that thought. She had just met the man, and she barely knew him. She was tired and coming down from the adrenaline of the fight earlier–so she just chalked it up to some delirious exhaustion.

Still…he was pretty cute.

“I didn’t realize you were buddy-buddy with the Lieutenant’s secretary,” Ekland noted with a wry smirk as he looked over his shoulder.

Freyja rolled her eyes. “I AM allowed to have friends outside of Griffin, aren’t I?”

Ekland raised an eyebrow. “Friends? I dunno how many people blush over a ‘friend,’ Montayne.”

Freyja pursed her lips and tried to will the heat out of her cheeks. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Ek.”

“Sure ya’ don’t.” Ekland guffawed as Lieutenant Sinclair led the group out of Grant Hall and out into the cool night. As they walked out, Lieutenant Sinclair’s phone started to ring. She checked the caller ID, then looked over to Alice.

“I need to take this.” Sinclair quickened her pace so she could have a bit of privacy before answering the call.

“This whole thing has bad vibes…” Hunter murmured under his breath as he placed a hand on his belt.

“Deep breaths Hunter,” Ekland quietly reassured as he squeezed Hunter’s shoulder.

“We’re just unloading some equipment,” Freyja told the group. Alice bristled and wondered if he had spoken too freely. “Nothin’ too bad.”

“Wait, that’s it?!” Williams threw her hands up in the air. “Dammit! I thought it was going to be something GROSS like cleaning the mess hall grease traps or something!”

“So…no one wins the bet, huh?” Delgado chuckled softly.

Over Williams’ hardly restrained complaining, Freyja seemed to hear something. She frowned, then tilted her head. “Does anyone else hear that?”

Beyond Gate 9 of Fort Jeffrey, the thick treeline that flanked the dusty county road up the mountain lit up as a convoy of five or six armored trucks came barreling down towards the base. Even as they approached the front gates, the trucks didn’t pause to stop and the soldiers at the gate raised the gate immediately with seemingly no questions asked. The trucks slowed down and made their way towards Warehouse 12B–the same building that the fireteam had been hosting their unsanctioned boxing fights in.

“Alright, let’s go,” Lieutenant Sinclair called over her shoulder as she put away her phone and made her way towards Warehouse 12B. Fireteam Griffin exchanged curious looks but followed without complaint, though Alice hesitated. He finally relented with a sigh before following after the group.

As the doors to the warehouse began to open, soldiers started climbing out of the trucks to help guide the vehicles in. Hopping down from the lead vehicle was a man with a modest suit. He looked around and as soon as his eyes fell upon Lieutenant Sinclair he nodded and closed the distance between them. 

“Are you First Lieutenant Sinclair?” the man in the suit inquired before coming to a stop with his hand extended.

Lieutenant Sinclair nodded and firmly shook his hand. “Agent Einhart, welcome to Fort Jeffrey.”

“We won’t be long, Lieutenant,” Agent Einhart reassured. “We’ll unload our convoy, set up the generator, and get out of your hair.”

With a shout, Agent Einhart turned on his heel and started directing the efforts as the rest of the trucks started to pull in–a few were already beginning to be offloaded.

Lieutenant Sinclair looked back to Fireteam Griffin and made a gesture with her eyes towards the warehouse’s interior.

“Make yourselves useful,” the lieutenant ordered curtly–her veneer of politeness seemed to be waning ever so slightly as she grew visibly more stressed. “Agent Einhart will put you to work.”

As Fireteam Griffin made their way inside, Lieutenant Sinclair turned her back towards Alice. Unable to ignore his unease, Alice reached out and took Lieutenant Sinclair by the wrist. 

The look she shot him was frigid. It did little to relieve Alice’s worry.

“Sweetie, I…don’t feel good about this,” Alice admitted softly. “And you’re clearly not yourself right now. Can we talk? Please?”

“Alice,” Lieutenant Maura Sinclair hissed through her teeth. “Now is not the time.”

“When will be ‘the time,’ Maura?” Alice asked with a pained expression. It was a question his heart had been wanting to ask for some time now, “We need to talk. You can’t just keep pushing things off when it’s not convenient for y-”

“Didn’t you say you would do anything for me, Alice Beauchamp?” Maura demanded with a cool glare. Alice felt his stomach cinch up. It didn’t feel right hearing his own words given in genuine love be weaponized against him when he was already feeling uncomfortable.

“I-I…I mean…” Alice felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “Yes, but–”

“No buts.” Maura yanked her wrist from Alice’s grasp with ease. “You either trust me, or you don’t. Which is it?”

Alice drew his hand back. He looked away. “Maura–”

“Well?” Maura stepped forward and grabbed his tie. Alice couldn’t meet her gaze. She gave the tie a tug to get his attention. “Look at me, Alice.”

Alice swallowed before reluctantly looking back at her. Her intense stare was unflinching. Alice licked his lips nervously before nodding nervously. “I-I…I trust you, Maura.”

Maura pursed her lips. Her eyes searched his for what felt like an eternity. Alice had once felt such warmth and love when she’d look at him, but now all he wanted to do was shrink and hide under her scrutiny. 

Alice couldn’t be sure what she finally saw, but it was enough to prompt a slow nod. She slowly released her grip on his tie and murmured “thank you Ally Cat” before gingerly taking her tablet from his hands, and turned to head into Warehouse 12B.

Alice was shaken, but attempted to calm down and recontextualize what just happened before his anxiety went rampant. She was just stressed–she was just lashing out. Alice knew she didn’t really mean to get so physical with him. Alice’s gaze followed Maura into the warehouse…

He then froze when he noticed a familiar, broad-shouldered woman looking straight at him.

Freyja had seen the whole thing. The look on her face said it all.

Alice blushed furiously and wanted to just vanish. With the tablet gone and only his Diet Dr. Pepper to hold, he just awkwardly grabbed his arm with his free hand and looked down to the ground as he attempted to hurry past Freyja. He didn’t get far before Freyja placed a gentle hand on his arm.

“Hey.” Freyja furrowed her brow as she tried to stop him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Alice lied, not daring to meet her pale green gaze.

“You’re CLEARLY not.” Freyja frowned deeply. “What was that all about?”

“It’s nothing–really.” Alice pulled his arm away and sped walk to try and hurry out her line of questioning. Not wanting to push him beyond what he was comfortable with, Freyja dropped it for now–but the way that she had seen Alice be handled by Lieutenant Sinclair threw up quite a few red flags.

As Freyja made her way back into the warehouse, she noticed that Agent Einhart and Lieutenant Sinclair had already instructed Williams, Hunter, and Delgado to help unload some crates from three different trucks. Ekland was waiting around nearby, and motioned for Freyja to join him.

After a moment of conferring with Agent Einhart, the Lieutenant pointed Freyja and Ekland towards the one truck that was quite a bit bigger than the others, and looked like one designed for navigating a battlefield rather than simply carrying supplies.

 “Corporals, start with this one.” Lieutenant Sinclair ordered.

Freyja frowned as she eyed the truck. “Weird truck…” She murmured before she and Ekland approached. A pair of soldiers unlatched the back of the truck, and pulled open the heavy metal doors.

Within the back of the truck sat what could only be described as an engine block of sorts–though it was roughly the size of a dumpster. It was made of a sleek, jet black metal that kept most of the delicate components obscured and protected. The soldiers who had opened the doors climbed up and started to carefully lead the engine out–as if they were pulling the coffin of a giant from the back of a hearse.

“So.” Ekland raised an eyebrow to Freyja as the two of them stepped up. “This is the cargo, huh?”

“I guess so…” Freyja murmured as she examined the device’s side for any crude handhold. After finding some, she grabbed hold and–after calling out to make sure Ekland was ready–they helped guide the engine down with assistance from a few other soldiers.

As they awkwardly maneuvered the massive machinery, Alice had made his way back over to Lieutenant Sinclair–though it didn’t seem like she really noticed he had been gone. She was too enthralled with the review Agent Einhart was giving her.

“...the Cambrian Engine operates based on-” Agent Einhart stopped as Alice approached. Unlike Lieutenant Sinclair, the agent appeared far more vigilant of his surroundings.

After a moment of confusion, Lieutenant Sinclair saw Alice and understood why the agent had stopped. She frowned. “Assistant, please go make sure that the corporals don’t hurt themselves.”

Assistant? “Beauchamp” he could be okay with, but assistant left a weird taste in his mouth.

Alice furrowed his brow…but nodded. “Y-Yes ma’am.”

As Alice slinked away, he couldn’t help but study the supposed “Cambrian Engine” with a critical eye. He pursed his lips tightly before taking a slow sip of his Diet Dr Pepper–his eyes never leaving the device. 

Though he did notice how big Freyja’s biceps were–even under her uniform–as she helped carry the engine. After a moment, Alice blushed and quickly forced himself to look away. 

With a grunt, the soldiers finally managed to lower the Cambrian Engine down onto some metal pallets. Ekland and the other soldiers moved to help elsewhere, but Freyja made her way over to Alice and gave him a gentle nudge. At first he was worried that she was going to press him about Lieutenant Sinclair, but instead she asked: “So…I’m guessing this is the ‘special tech’ you were talkin’ ‘bout?”

“Yeah,” Alice shakily exhaled. He bit his lip as he started to hyperfixate on every little detail of the engine. Though he couldn’t help but feel like that was a misnomer. An engine implied that it would be giving power to something like a truck, but Alice saw no indication that this giant metallic sarcophagus was designed to hook into anything. 

So what was it then?

Freyja was quiet for a moment while Alice chewed on his lip. She could tell there was something working behind those soft gray eyes. “You got any idea what it even does?”

“Not really,” Alice admitted meekly. “They called in an ‘engine,’ but it doesn’t look like any engine I’ve ever seen.”

Freyja scratched her head. “This is something for a B-52...if this is supposed to be a ‘test run,’ what the hell do they expect to test it on?”

Even as Alice went to reply, he heard a noise.

It sounded like…glass wind chimes?

The noise came from within the engine. It was quiet at first–so much so that he thought it was just his imagination. But it grew loud enough to turn a few heads.

Freyja went to speak, but was cut off by one of the soldiers nearby who shouted to Agent Einhart. The metal of the device seemed to shiver–as if made of thousands of individual panels, the engine began to percolate with a sort of “metallic goose bumps.” The cracks between the panels of the engine began to glow with an iridescent intensity–almost like the rainbow hued look of oil on asphalt. 

“What did you do Sinclair?” Agent Jackson demanded as he shot her a glare. “Shut it down!”

Lieutenant Sinclair’s eyes were filled with confusion as she frantically tapped on the tablet. “I didn’t do this! I-I…” Confusion was replaced with determination as she quickly tried tapping a few more commands. Beads of sweat began to roll down her face as she tried to focus despite the rising panic around her.

Whereas Freyja was wide-eyed and confused, Alice was downright panicking. His knees were locked and he was frozen in place. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out what was going on. It wasn’t like the device was dropped or mishandled, right? 

Wait…was this his fault?

He was the one that uploaded everything Maura had asked, right? He was the one who had worked on the tablet. He was the one who set everything up for her. 

Were they all going to die because Alice screwed something up?

He felt a large hand clamp down on his shoulder. Alice was only able to stare in horror at the device as Freyja gently pulled him back.

“Get behind me,” Freyja ordered as she put herself between Alice and the glow of the reactor.

“This…I-I-I did this…” Alice murmured to himself as he was overshadowed by Freyja’s frame. 

Whether it was Lieutenant Sinclair’s attempts to shut it down or some other factor, the sound of tinkling glass grew louder–as if great chandeliers were dropping from vaulted ceilings…the chromatic glow from within grew brighter until it was like staring into a sun…and the metallic frame of the engine went from mere shivering, to downright quaking. Mingled in with the cacophony of the Cambrian Engine were shouts from Agent Einhart and his soldiers as they tried to respond with some degree of competence–but it was incredibly clear that this was an event that no one was properly prepared for.

“We gotta go!” Freyja finally decided as she started to step backwards.

Alice was knocked out of his stupor as a familiar tablet smacked him on the chest. He looked over to see Lieutenant Sinclair looking at him with a look of sheer panic–he hadn’t noticed her run over to hand him the tablet until she was right on top of him.

“FIX THIS!” Maura Sinclair screamed.

Alice fumbled over his words and Freyja looked over her shoulder with a look of bewilderment.

“I-I…” Alice felt a new wave of panic as he felt the responsibility and consequences rest heavy in his hands–it was a weight that Maura was either unable or unwilling to bear on her own, so she thrusted into his lap. His mind was harrowed up by his own promise made to Maura. Summoning what very little courage he had left, he swallowed hard and studied the screen in front of him.

The data and jargon presented in this software–which he could only assume was the encrypted software he had not accessed earlier–was complete nonsense. He recognized some of the coding, but a good chunk was utterly foreign to him. Still, he recognized some patterns that started to stand out…

With a quiet prayer on his lips and fingers that flew across the touch screen, Alice tried the one thing that came to mind that he thought might work.

Might, being the operative word.

Even while he worked, Alice felt a strong hand on his shoulder as Freyja attempted to move him and the lieutenant away from the Cambrian Engine.

“MOVE!!” Freyja shouted. Lieutenant Sinclair screamed something at Freyja as she shoved her hand away…

Suddenly, the quaking and tumult went still–though the engine still glowed brightly.

“Y-You…you did it!” Maura gasped. She pulled off her hat and wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Thank God…”

“Well that was…exciting…” Freyja murmured sarcastically. After heaving a sigh of relief, she offered Alice a grateful smile. “Good job, Alice. Dunno how you did it, but it looks like you got things under control.”

“I…don’t think I did that,” Alice admitted nervously. His brow furrowed as he checked the data on the tablet. He swiped through a few more screens. He tried deciphering the lines of code that was still flowing between the encrypted software and the Cambrian Engine.

Alice shivered. “Maura, something isn’t ri-”

Suddenly, everything went white.

[reidgraygubler]

carolina (spencer reid/reader

Title: Carolina

Request: no, but it was written for @spencerreidbingo​

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut/angst, with a tiny bit of fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (praise kink, mild-innocence kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (male & female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex/cream pie, grinding/petting, hairpulling, breathplay, multiple orgasms, possessive kink, orgasm denial), partying, drinking, swearing, large age gap (between two consenting adults), professor/student, post prison!reid, quick mentions of drinks being drugged (but not actually happening) (if I missed anything, please let me know)

Word Count: 9,064

Summary: Spencer thinks his peer is innocent. But little does he not, she’s not as innocent as he thinks.

A/N: it’s based on carolina by harry styles, bc im a sucker for a good harry song. This was written for @spencerreidbingo​ (i’ll have a separate post with more about that). this takes up the breathplay square on my card (pictured below). This is also the first time im writing a blowjob scene, so im really sorry if it’s not good. i also didn’t have a beta for this, so im kinda blindly posting this. and, lastly, this is a lot longer than i intended. i didn’t mean for it to get this long… it’s just a bunch of words my brain wouldn’t stop saying until i wrote it... i seriously hope you all enjoy this. thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

I kept my eyes low as I stepped into the lecture hall 5 minutes before anyone else. The professor was writing something on the chalkboard, so his back was facing the room. 

“Uh, hello,” I spoked, stepping closer to his desk. He jumped slightly and dropped his chalk at the sound of my voice. I would have expected him to know students would be showing up earlier, considering it was the start of a new semester. And, I honestly would have assumed he was told a new student was coming. That’s not my job. 

“Oh, sorry,” he turned around to face me. I smiled softly, watching

as he bent down to pick up the chalk. I cocked my head to the side, watching his backside as he stood back up. He pushed his hair away from his face. “You must be the new transfer,” he asked, resting the chalk on his desk, beside a pile of pens.

“Yep. That’s me…” I smiled, looking up at his face, keeping myself from further checking him out. I quickly offered my hand and gave him my name. “I know I’m early. I figured I’d get the syllabus from you now instead of after class,” I nodded as I adjusted my grip on my bag. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face and then down my body, and that moment felt like an eternity. I shouldn’t be mad or frustrated with him. I basically did the same thing to him moments ago.

 I cleared my throat to get his attention once again. “The, uh… The syllabus?” I asked as my smile faltered slightly. He looked at me before looking at the pile of papers on his desk before quickly moving.

“Right, right, sorry,” he muttered as he began shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. “Um, here you are,” he looked back up at me as he handed me a small packet. I looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the teacher.

“Perfect, thank you,” I spoke, my words kind of lingering because he never actually gave me his name. 

“Right, sorry, Spencer. Spencer Reid. I won’t be a drill sergeant about the whole Mr., Dr., Professor. You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled as he placed his hands on the back of his chair. I held back my laughter and the wildly inappropriate joke that I wanted to make.

“Well, Professor Reid,” I smiled as I looked down at my watch, “I better go find a seat before your class starts. I can’t wait to be in your class,” I looked up at him before turning to find a spot. When I sat down, Spencer looked at me with a smile, before going back to writing on the chalkboard. 

I quickly and quietly pulled out my books and pens as the other people in the class filed in and took their seats. Spencer quickly finished writing on the board before turning around to greet the class. And, even as he spoke to the class, and looked around at each of the other students, his eyes always landed on me, lingering for a moment before going elsewhere.

{***}{***}{***}

Five months. Five months into being in Spencer Reid’s class, and I have been suffering. I’m not a new student anymore. But the only friendship I’ve made is with my fucking professor, and there’s a certain level of tension between us. That tension was probably thanks to him staring at me during lectures, and me teasing him while he taught. It wasn’t too bothersome, but I definitely wanted something to happen. Unfortunately for me, I don’t think anything will happen. 

So, can someone please tell me why I invited Spencer over to help me study for a test? It’s a stupid question too, that I already figured out the answer to… I even finished studying for the day, and I’m going to a stupid party. Maybe I could get him to go with… And maybe, just maybe, something could happen.

I nearly jumped when there was a knock on the door. It’s not that I forgot he was coming over. It’s that I was so wrapped up in doing my makeup and forgot what time it was. My mascara almost smudged when I jumped back. Thank God it didn’t smudge too terribly. 

I grabbed my shirt off the counter and threw it on (not bothering to zip it), before running to the front door. I smoothed out my skirt before pulling the door open. And, there stood Spencer. 

“Hope I’m not too late,” he looked down at me and smiled. Although, his smile didn’t stay for too long when he saw what I was wearing. He wasn’t disappointed though, no. He was… He clearly liked what he saw, I’ll just put it that way.

“Oh! Thanks for coming over, but I actually figured it out. I should’ve called you,” I looked up at Spencer as he stepped into my apartment. I struggled to zip the back of my blouse as I walked towards my room. I looked back over my shoulder and noted that Spencer was, indeed, still following me. “Can you zip me up,” I stopped in my tracks before giving up on zipping my blouse. It was a black crop top that paired well with the pale pink tennis skirt. 

“Where… Where exactly are you going tonight? It’s a, uh, it’s a school night,” he asked as he lifted his hands. The cool metal of the zipper pressed against my back, causing a shiver to go through my spine.

“Uh, there’s this party,” I answered, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom, “Thought I’d go,” I looked at him in the mirror. Spencer looked around the bathroom, at the messy mess I had made on my counter. Different pallets of makeup and tools were strewn about, a varying amount of hair care products tossed here and there. It honestly looked like a bathroom of a pageant queen, and not a 20-something-year-old. In my defense, I had to dress to impress someone here in this stupid university. 

“Is that, uh… Is that smart?” Spencer asked, leaning against the door jamb. I looked up at him as I put on some luxurious red lipstick. I smiled as I looked at him.

“I think it is,” I laughed as I picked up something else and turned to look at him, “You wanna come? I wasn’t invited,” I smiled wickedly as I looked at him. His face paled two shades as he looked at me. “Oh, c’mon, Professor, no one will know us there, and I can assure you, no one will even see us,” I looked up at him as I readjusted his tie. He looked down at me before swallowing roughly. 

“I don-”

“I do need a designated driver,” I spoke before cutting him off. I walked past him and towards my room. Part of me wondered what he was thinking as I so rudely rushed past him, or cut him off, or whatever I was doing. I wished I could hear his thoughts. I wondered if they consisted of “The mouth on that girl,” or, “I should punish her for the way she’s acting,” or, my personal favorite, “I should put that mouth to good use,” 

“How old are you again?” Spencer asked once I sat down on my bed. I looked up at him as I slipped my shoes on.

“22,” I smiled and stood up, “Why, is that important?” I smiled as I grabbed my coat and purse.

“Couldn’t remember,” he lied. We both knew he was lying. He even knew that too. Freaking walking computer is what he is. There's no way he conveniently forgot how old I was. “Are you going to be out late?”

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad or anything?” I laughed, leading him back to the front door of the house. “I don’t plan on being out too late. I know there’s class tomorrow,” I shrugged as I walked towards his car. 

We both stayed silent as he drove with the directions I was quietly giving him. I was pleasantly happy that we were both quiet, but what I hated was the sudden awkward sexual tension that was between us. If he didn’t have this… domineering personality over me there probably wouldn’t be this tension between us.

“Are you going to come with me?” I looked up at him as I unbuckled. He glanced over at me with slight disappointment in his eye. I felt a little bad, but I really wanted to go to this party, I wasn’t going to let my professor’s disappointment stop me. “Please,” I whispered. He sighed before unbuckling himself. I had to force myself to not verbally giggle with excitement before slipping out of the car. Spencer looked down at me as I twisted my hips to swish my skirt. I smiled as I entertained myself. I'm sure if I wasn't watching my skirt, I would have been staring at him, giving myself away. 

“Steps,” Spencer muttered as we got closer to the porch. I looked up at him before looking towards the small staircase. I looked up at Spencer with a smile. He glanced back down at me, a worried crease in his brow. I looked down at my skirt and smoothed it out. I looked at the door as we stood close to it, I contemplated knocking.

  “So, you weren’t invited to this party?” Spencer asked, looking down at me. His voice stopped me from knocking. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled back up at him. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer from me. My smile grew playful as I looked back at the door, raising my fist to knock on it. “No answer?” he asked, still waiting for my answer.

“Oh, please, Professor Reid, I can get into the hottest parties in LA without an invitation,” I smiled at him. That was a little bit of an over-exaggeration. Most college parties I could get into. But not LA parties. Someday though… 

The door swung open, and we were instantly met with loud music blaring through a speaker somewhere in the house. People’s voices and chatter carried all throughout the house, coming through the various rooms and clusters around. “Are you coming in to babysit me? Or, are you going to go back to your car to read the science of the mathematical phenomenon,” I looked up at him, offering my hand to him. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a real book or not, but I wouldn’t put it past Spencer to read. 

“I’m not babysitting you,” he corrected as he looked down at me with a disappointed look in his eye. I smiled and rolled my eyes. 

“Are you going to come in and watch me drink and party and have fun, Professor… Or, are you going to go back to your car and read your silly little book,” I looked down at my hand, silently telling him to take my hand and come in with me. 

“I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly in the rules for a professor to party, let alone drink, with their students,” Spencer spoke before looking down at my hand. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him.

“Fine then… Suit yourself,” I turned around and basically skipped into the house, leaving the door open for him. I made my way towards the loud kitchen and grabbed for a cup and bottle of whatever booze was nearby. I blindly grabbed for a bottle of Grey Goose and dumped it into the cup, no mixer, no chaser. 

“First off,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I looked up at him and took a long sip of vodka. “You shouldn’t be taking drinks from people at a party,” he spoke, taking the cup from me. I looked up at him, then the bottle and a new cup. I was only a little annoyed that he took my drink. 

“I… I’m young. I’m not dumb,” I grabbed a new cup and poured more vodka. I looked up at him and offered him a sip. “I know not to drink something given to me by someone I don’t know.” I scoffed before taking another long sip. I cringed a bit at how strong it was.

“Even then someone could slip something into a drink! Even if you did know them!” Spencer exclaimed, causing the surrounding people to turn and look at us. I dropped my shoulders as I looked up at him. 

“If you look around, Spencer, you’re the only person that I know. So unless you’re the one slipping something into my drink… And, as an FBI agent… I don’t think you would,” I cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You have more to say,” I added before taking a sip of my drink.

"And, secondly, you're not as innocent as I had originally thought you were," he watched as I brought the cup of straight vodka to my lips. He looked rather unamused with my talent for drinking straight vodka.

"You thought I was innocent?" I asked, nearly sputtering the liquid with my laughter. "Please! I've never been innocent in my entire life!" I shouted over the music. He raised an eyebrow at my statement, and suddenly I had the greatest idea in the world. "But maybe, just for you, I'll be a good girl," I smiled before drinking the rest of my drink in one go. Spencer looked down at me, his lips pressed into a fine as he stared down at me. Ohh, that definitely awoken something in him. I bit back my smile with my offer. Innocent… He thinks I’m innocent. Ha! I honestly don’t remember the last time I was innocent. And, honestly, just for him… I’d be an innocent, good, little girl for Spencer Reid any day, every day even. “I can be your good, innocent little girl,” I smiled at him and cocked my head.

"I don't… I don't think that'd be… appropriate," he spoke, his words very quiet. We both knew that even though it was inappropriate, we both wanted it. We both knew what we wanted to. 

I glanced at him before pouring more drink for myself. "You should learn to pace yourself," he stated and changed the subject. He nervously looked at the bottle of vodka and then around the room at all the other people drinking. Or, he was just looking for a drink that wasn’t booze. Did he actually want to keep me safe, or was I just overreading him?     

"It's a college party, Professor! I'm not going to pace myself!" I shouted just to get his attention back to me. His head shot back down to me. The level of concern on his face only made me feel a little bad, mostly because he was concerned for me. But, he should know… This is a college party.  “Do you want some?” I asked, offering my drink to him again. I held it up to him, close to his lips. His face twisted up as soon as the scent of pure vodka hit his nose.

“No, no thanks,” he held up at hand to block the cup from his face. I pouted before bringing it to my lips. “Do you usually come to parties,” he asked, his eyes darting around the room. Part of me wondered if he wanted to continue that question with “Like this?” But,  I was too busy keeping my eyes on his face, rather than looking around the room like he was. Although, I’m sure he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings. I’ve never been too worried about it, I probably should… But hey, you only live once. Going to college parties with your 38-year-old professor, and drinking straight vodka, and not really caring about your surroundings proves my point of YOLO.

“If I don’t have class or anything to study for… Yep,” I looked up at him with a sneaky smile. The joke with that was his particular class had a test coming up soon, and I should be studying for it. He knew that too because he just announced the test this morning. Although, he did come to my home, to help me with said test. “But, I wouldn't show up to his class hungover. It’d disappoint him too much. And, he’d care too much about me to even focus on the rest of the class,” I spoke, answering the questions he was thinking. It’s not like I’ve shown up to classes hungover before. Granted, I’ve never shown up to his class drunk or hungover. Mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint him, and only him. Anyone and everyone else can go blow themselves.

“How do you know that?” Spencer asked, looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled and stepped closer to him.  

“How do I know what?” I cocked my head to my shoulder. I already knew what he meant by his question, but… I think teasing him and messing with him is fun. And, he knew that too.

“How do you know that you’d disappoint him?” he looked down at me, pressing his chin to his chest to get a better look at me. His hands were away from me, even though I really wanted his hands anywhere on me. I looked over at my hand and the cup I held before bringing it to my lips. I took a long sip, trying to finish the contents in one go. I tossed the cup over my shoulder and looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Because being hungover, with the slight possibility of still being drunk, would totally disappoint him… And I would hate to disappoint him.” I whispered and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me with something in his eyes, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I told you, Professor, I’d be a good girl for you,” I cocked my head to my shoulder and smiled, “And only for you,”

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out an obvious fake statement. So, I cackled and shook my head.

“I had one drink,” I scoffed and waved off my in the air, “Most definitely not enough to get me drunk,” I flattened his tie out before gripping it tightly, “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I smiled before dropping my hand from his tie, “So, why would I show up to your class… Hungover…? I know you’d care… And I know it’d disappoint you. That’s the last thing I want to do to you,”  

Spencer’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. He quickly looked between me and the room, then back at me, then around the room. I faked a yawn before looking away from him.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay, Professor?” I smoothed out his jacket before turning and leaving him alone in the kitchen. I smiled as I skipped away from him, my skirt swishing with my movement. I secretly hoped he’d follow me. But, a quick glance over my shoulder told me he was still in the kitchen.

However, when I finished my business and left the bathroom, Spencer was leaning against the wall right beside the door. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Follow me,” he muttered, grasping my wrist and pulling me down the various halls and past multiple groups of people. I giggled the harder his grasp grew on me and the faster he moved. I’m happy people were too busy with themselves to notice a 30-something-year-old man was dragging a 20-something-year-old girl down the hall, to which I can assume was one of the only open bedrooms. Fuck… I hope it's a bedroom. 

He was a man on a mission. Not letting anyone get in his way. The smile that grew on my lips was pure excitement. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure we’re both getting what we wanted… I hope.

I let out an excited yelp when he shoved me into, exactly what I thought, an empty bedroom. I’m surprised he knew that there’d be an empty room. Most of them are occupied, with couples (or more) doing exactly what I hope we’re about to do. Which was fuck each other.

Spencer slammed the door shut, and quickly locked it before pushing me against it. I looked up at him and giggled like a fucking kid in a candy store. Again, I couldn’t help it. 

Spencer was quiet, which led me to be quiet. The air in between us quickly grew hot and tense and thick. I really wanted this to move faster, but I wanted him to be the one in charge. I was willing to let this be slow and let him be in charge. So, when he grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head, I smiled so hard my cheeks began to hurt.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer’s voice was low and deep as he moved close to me. There was little to no space between us. Which left little to the imagination, for me anyway. 

I looked up at him, with the biggest doe eyes I could muster, silently telling him that I wanted the most, in the entire world, was to be on my knees, with his hand tangled in my hair, and his cock down my throat, or to be fucked so hard that I won’t be able to sit properly for several days. But, I couldn’t be that blunt. You gotta play up to that moment before you get it. I’m sure in the end though, I’ll get both things.

I swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say, because, like I said, I can’t just be blunt yet. So, when I opened my mouth and words just came out, I was pleasantly surprised with what was said. “You’re old enough to be my father, Professor,” I smiled at him as he pinned me against the door. He pressed his hips against mine to keep me against the surface. I could feel a large bulge against my inner thigh, causing me to shiver. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy,” I whispered as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He is the one who said I could call him whatever I wanted… And he did just ask me what I wanted, and I guess I wanted to call him ‘Daddy’. There was no guessing about him.

Okay, he wasn't exactly old enough to be my father. But he was a lot older than me. Most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with men 15 years older than them… and most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with their professor… I just wanted an excuse to call him 'Daddy'. And he knew that too. So, if we gave each other an excuse for that to happen, then that was all I needed.

I dropped my head to my shoulder to allow him to attack the space on my neck. He dragged his nose across my jawbone before stilling. His lips were just over my neck. As his breathing got heavier, it tickled across my skin. 

“That does have a nice ring to it,” Spencer hummed as he dropped my hands and stepped away from me. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. I missed having his body pressed against mine, and he knew that. 

I looked at him as I brought my hands to his belt. "I thought you said this wasn't appropriate, Daddy," I whispered as I quickly undid the belt buckle, without looking. I almost couldn’t move fast enough to unbutton and zip his pants. If he wanted me to stop, he would have stopped me by now. “Can I?” I looked up at him, a plea in my eyes.

"You've changed my mind," he muttered, watching me with such close intent, “God, please keep going,” he spoke like if I did stop now he’d probably die. I looked up at him as I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed as my fingers brushed against his cock. A small smile grew on my lips. 

“Didn’t take much convincing,” I smiled as my fingers wrapped around him. A small groan fell from his lips as I looked up at him. When I pulled my hand away from him not even a moment later, he looked down at me with an alarmed expression on his face. I quickly spat on my palm before sticking my hand down his pants. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” I whispered as I slowly stroked up and down his length. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening. 

“I’ve wanted this since you stepped foot in my classroom,” his voice was low and gravely as he spoke. My breathing picked up a little bit as I looked up at him. 

Okay… Maybe he did know how long I’ve wanted this. Because I also wanted this the second I stepped into his lecture hall. I wanted his cock in my hands and his hand around my throat. It only took-what, five months for this? I’ll make it worth the wait. 

“Does that feel good,” I whispered, carefully picking up speed and adding the slightest bit of pressure in my grip. Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed roughly and nodded. I smiled before pulling my hand away from him, again. I slowly lowered to my knees and kept my eyes on his face. 

Spencer looked down at him as he gently pushed his fingers through my hair. His fingers gripping hard on my roots before pulling hard. I smiled before very slowly pulling down his slacks and boxers in one go. I was only a little bit intimidated by his size, but the excitement I felt went straight to my core. 

I took a deep breath and swallowed roughly before looking up at him. My mouth fell open, and my tongue stuck out, silently telling him that it was okay. Although I don’t really know why I was telling him that it was okay, we both knew what we wanted, and it was only going to take me doing one thing.

I made eye contact with him as I ran my tongue on the side of his cock. Our eye contact didn’t last long, mostly because he let out a moan and dropped his head back. I smiled as I licked across his tip. A sweet and salty taste was on my tongue. 

My jaw fell slack as I carefully took his length into my mouth. I closed my lips around him before slowly bobbing my head, with my tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. I wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit into my mouth. And wrapped my free arm around his leg for support.

The sounds of his moans and grunts filled the mostly quiet room. Music, although muffled through the walls and door, could still be heard from outside of our own world behind the door and four walls.

“You were right,” he struggled to speak through groans, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought,” Spencer's hand had a rough hold in my hair as he held me against him. His cock was penetrating my throat, and breathing was beginning to get difficult. My eyes grew wet and tears grew in the corners of my eyes. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if my makeup started smudging and I looked like an adolescent raccoon. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he struggled to let out a coo, before moving his hips closer to my face. 

Everything about this moment, his hand in my hair, the sounds he was making, the way he smelled, being here… Was intoxicating. I’d give anything to be in this moment again. And I’d give anything to get this moment sooner.

 My knees would hate me in the morning, I just know it. I could already sense the dreaded carpet burn before he even started. But, in all honesty, it’d be worth it. Walking into class tomorrow morning, with bruises and day-old wounds on my knees, just to see his expression.

As I began to pick up pace, the sounds Spencer was making started to become more urgent, easily telling me he was close. But, before he could finish, I pulled away from him, crashing into the wall to get away from his grasp. He looked down at me with a mild frustration on his face. I smiled before wiping my chin clean of spit. 

“I guess chivalry is dead. Whatever happened to ladies first?” I asked, my voice a rasp from how raw my throat was. I looked up at him, feeling a certain level of sass grow in my smile. Spencer quickly tucked himself back into his pants before grabbing my hand. 

“Come on, on your feet,” he muttered as he pulled me back up to a standing position. I nearly toppled over into him if he didn’t hold me upright. I looked up at him and smiled. 

“Bed… Now?” I whispered, my tone showing how urgent I was. It’s not that I wanted this over with, it's that I wanted everything to happen to me all at once, and I wanted it to last for a long time. 

Spencer nodded before cupping my face in his hands. He was harsh when he pressed his lips to mine, like his life depended on it, if he did kiss me now the world would end. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started guiding me towards the bed. And when the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs, he pushed me back onto it. I quickly moved so my head was resting on the pillows. Spencer was quick to take his cardigan off and be over me. 

“You’re not going to fail me, are you,” I joked as he quickly started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck. He lifted his head and looked down at me with confusion on his face. “If I’m a bad fuck,”

“If you ask that again, or bring up class while we’re doing this… Then yes,” he muttered as he looked at me. I laughed as I pushed my fingers through his hair. 

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed as I pulled him down to kiss him, again. One of his hands landed on top of my breast, carefully kneading it, causing me to moan into his mouth. 

His hand slowly drifted away from my chest. I pressed my head into the pillow and looked up at him with a smirk. He carefully dragged his fingers up from my chest to the base of my neck, causing me to let out a shaky gasp. I wanted fingers and a hand around my neck, carefully cutting off my airway just right. Suddenly, I never wanted something so badly in my life. Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at me like he knew what I was about to say. 

“Do it… I fucking dare you,” I muttered, placing both my hands around his wrist. My nose twitched as I stared at him. “I said fucking do it,” I spat, pushing his hand down more onto my neck. My words slowly got cut off as the pressure in his hand and fingers tightened around my neck. A moan struggled to escape me, but did eventually fall from my lips. He seemed pretty happy with that.

“Is that good,” his voice was a growl. I looked at him and moaned.

“Harder,” I begged, my voice growing raspier the more I spoke. He smirked before allowing his grip to tighten. His other hand was still sitting on top of my hips, and I could tell where he wanted to put it. I’d be a dirty, rotten liar if I didn’t want his hand up my skirt. In fact, I’d love it if he did more than just his hand. 

Spencer swallowed roughly before finally sneaking a hand up my skirt and resting it on my underwear. My grip around his wrist got tighter as he pushed past my underwear and past my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as another moan was strangled in my throat. 

“You’re so wet,” he purred as he slowly moved a finger around my clit. I looked up at him, as I struggled to swallow roughly. A dark smirk grew on his lips as he watched me struggle for a moment. “Does that feel good,” he asked, mildly mocking me from earlier. His movements picked up speed just a little bit, and my body reacted, well tried to react. 

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me. His pupils were so blown I could nearly see my reflection in them. “Another thing you were right about,” he whispered as he slipped a finger into my entrance, and curled it just right. My vision slowly blurred before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Another moan struggled to escape my throat as Spencer added a second finger. 

My body was on autopilot as I lifted my hand and hit his wrist a few times, telling him that I desperately needed to breathe. When I reopened my eyes, I looked up at him a moment before he removed his hand from my neck. Worry and concern flashed in his eyes as I breathed. Air burned like fire in my lungs as I took a deep breath. As I exhaled a loud moan followed behind, easily telling Spencer and I that I had reached my first orgasm of the night. I just hope there will be more... 

“You did such a good job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he looked down at me. With his free hand, he brushed the tears away from my cheeks. He carefully withdrew his hand from between my legs and held them up to his face. He looked at them for a moment before placing them in his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. I took a shaky breath and nodded. 

He very sloppily pressed his lips to mine, then on the corner of my lips, and down my jaw, and neck. With one quick movement, a loud rip filled the room, as he tore my shirt off my body. I looked up at him with shock in my eyes. To be fair, that shirt was flimsy, to begin with. I was more worried about leaving my chest so exposed as we left the party. 

“Oh, I’ll give you my sweater,” Spencer muttered before attacking my neck and then down to my collarbones, and over my breasts. I gasped as he wrapped his lips around a nipple.

“Mmm, Daddy,” I whimpered as I shifted under him. I brought my hands back up to his hair, tangling my fingers in the hairs on his neck. When he sensed that I was growing restless (even though he just started), he quickly left wet kisses down the rest of my body

“I like the way that sounds coming from your mouth,” he whispered once he was in between my legs. I looked down at him just as he looked up at me. “Good on your end for wearing such a short skirt,” he smiled before pressing his lips to my inner thigh. A shaky breath tumbled from my lips as I looked at him. “Makes for easier access,” he added before going higher up on my leg.

“You’re not going fast enough,” I whined as he just kept kissing, or licking, or rubbing my inner thighs. It was honestly getting annoying. I kind of felt bad for him. Considering I’ve already cum once, and I got him close but didn’t let him finish. 

“I’m not going fast enough?” Spencer looked up at me. I shot him a scowl as I shifted slightly on the bed. Spencer looked back down the apex of my legs before looping two fingers around the band of my underwear. As soon as I lifted my hips, he pulled my underwear off my body and chucked them to the ground beside the bed. “How’s this for fast enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before licking between my folds. A breath of air got caught in my lungs as my hands found their way to his hair, my fingers getting knotted up in his roots. 

“Mhm, Spencer,” I gasped, rolling my hips up at him. He hummed, sending vibrations straight to my core. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his back as my own back arched. 

“Ohh, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I cried, pressing my head into the pillow beneath my head. My fingers pulled hard on his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hummed again as he pushed two fingers back into my entrance. My grip in his hair tightened, and I could feel my grip wanting to loosen. 

My breathing picked up as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. And all I could say was his name, and the suddenly loved nickname I had for him. He seemed to appreciate my reaction too, because he worked faster. Messy and wet sounds, mixed with my breathy moans and calls of his name filled the room, and my end was near. 

“Fuck,” I shouted as I finally came undone. I could sense if I didn’t pull him away, he’d keep going, and going till I couldn’t take it anymore. And, honestly, that sounds great, but I think that’s for next time. I wanted him in me now. “Spencer, Spencer,” I cried as I tried to pull his head away, but failed so hard.

“Nuh huh,” he hummed, looking up at me. I took a deep breath and pressed my head into the pillow beneath me and threw an arm over my face. “Please, Spencer,” I cried as I bucked my hips at him, “Fuck me, please, fuck me, Daddy,” I moaned. He was going faster than before and was clearly trying to work me to the end faster too. It was hard to breathe, and speak because my words would just get stuck in my throat.  

Although, when I did cum, again, for the third time tonight, Spencer did move away from my legs. He knelt between them, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. My body was shaking lightly as I tried to come down from my high.

“Please,” I whispered, lifting a hand up, trying to reach for his tie. He looked down at me with a smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. I could feel my voice becoming a little whiney. Spencer moved so he was hovering over me, his fingers gently brushing hair away from my face.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he whispered cupping my face in his hand. I looked up at his face, admiring his lips, and eyes, and nose, and the way his lips had a sheen from when he licked them clean and whatever was leftover from when he was eating me out. 

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” I begged, begged. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine for a moment. He sat up away from me to remove his sweater and shirt. My head was spinning from excitement, I didn’t even notice that he was totally undressed.

Spencer was back between my legs, looking down at me like I truly belonged right here. Or, like I was his to fuck with. Either way it was a good feeling. 

“Ready?” He asked, his voice so low that I could hardly hear it over the bass of the loud music. I rapidly nodded my head, worried my answer was the wrong one. But it wasn’t. I desperately wanted this. Needed. I needed this. 

Spencer hovered over me before putting an opened mouth kiss on my lips. I could hardly breathe as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and entrance. I could feel a moan getting caught in the middle of my throat, my body not being about to handle anymore teasing. Until, he very slowly pushed into me.

“Oh, good girl,” he repeated. Those two words, constantly coming off his tongue. Making me feel good. The praise that I hadn’t heard in such a long time, that I longed for. Part of me wondered if he knew I wanted it. “Has someone not been taking care of you?” he asked, looking down at me. I stared at him, not trusting my own voice. My mind was too distracted with the way I felt, light and airy but at the same time full. So I shook my head.

“No, Daddy,” I whimpered and kept shaking my head. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled before moving his hips. It took him a moment to get a perfect rhythm. He lips attached to different spots on my neck, leaving hickies in his wake.

“Spencer,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to my shoulder to let him have more space.

“You feel so good,” he grunted as he moved his hips so he was deeper in me, “You feel so good, and you’re all mine,” he pressed his forehead to mine as he wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer up to him. My breathing got deep, my chest heaving with each breath I took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer to my face. 

“Oh, be quiet,” I whispered before putting my lips on his. He smiled before passing his tongue between my lips. A moan fell from my lips, which he seemed to enjoy… Considering it was probably just music to his ears. 

“I’ll only be quiet if you keep making those little noises,” he muttered against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled again as I knotted my fingers in the hair on the back of his head. 

“Faster,” I breathed out, keeping my eyes on him. Spencer laughed lightly as he picked up the speed. My hips bucked with his, meeting at the right points. “Please,” I whimpered as I threw my head back more into the pillow. He pulled his arm away from my back and brought his hand between our legs, where we met. 

“It’s okay, Little Girl,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to the side of my face. I let out a shaky breah and arched my body into his. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. I almost wasn’t sure if it was fair that my professor was better in bed than other men my age. He was more experienced, to be fair. “You can finish, it’s okay,” he kept his voice low. It almost sounded like he was giving me permission.

I nodded my head, breathing heavily through my nose. “Mmm, Spencer,” I moaned, loudy, as my walls fluttered around him and my release came. And a few moments later, Spencer thrusted deep into me with a grunt, filling me with his essence. His body collapsed on top of me whence he finished.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers still tangled in his hair. My limbs were sore and shaking slightly from the rough movements. Spencer laughed lightly, agreeing with my statement. “We can’t sleep here,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ceiling above us. I wished we could just sleep here, mostly because I was exhausted after everything we did.

“I know,” Spencer replied as he slowly moved off and away from me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re messy now,” he muttered as he basically tumbled off the bed. I quickly sat up, just to make sure he was okay. Although I was happy he was okay, I quickly regretted moving as fast as I did. 

“Your sweater,” I mumbled, reaching out towards where his sweater was lying. He looked down at it before picking it up to hand to me. He also grabbed a fistful of tissues and moved to between my legs, again. “Just give me your boxers,” I looked at him as he wiped the insides of my thighs clean. He looked back up at me, still cleaning my legs. 

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he spoke as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash. He grabbed his slacks and boxers, tossing me his boxers. I slipped them on under my skirt, and then slipped his sweater on. 

“I’d hope so,” I whispered as I stood up. My body wobbled for a second, nearly falling over, before I caught my balance. Spencer looked back at me, looking at how fucked I looked. I mean, I probably looked about the same as him. 

“I’d given you a ride home either way,” he said as he redressed. I looked at him with confusion on my face. Either way? So even if we hadn’t had sex, he would have given me a ride. I asked him and he said yes. So I would hope he’d given me a ride, even if we didn’t fuck.

Once we were both ready to leave this stupid party, that I didn’t even enjoy (well, I did, I was just in a different world), or was even invited to, we walked out. It was as easy as pie. And, since no one really knew either of us were here, I won’t be known as the girl who fucked the professor.

The drive home was quiet. Like, even quieter than the drive here. He didn’t even have the music playing. I wondered if it was my fault, if he was regretting what we had done. If I had known he’d be so regretful, I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him. But, I guess its too late now. 

When I looked out the window, I realized we were parked outside my apartment building. I looked down at my attire and looked back at Spencer.

“Thanks… Thanks for the ride… And thanks for the sweater. I’ll be sure to give it back to you… Eventually,” I looked up at Spencer as I pulled the door open to leave.

“See you Thursday,” he nodded at me. I looked at him before slamming the door shut. I scoffed before turning to walk up to my home. I couldn’t want to sleep.

{***}{***}{***}

Two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer and I fucked. Okay, not too bad. I don’t regret it, and I’m not afraid to say that. However, I think he might be regretting it. Considering he’d been nothing but ignoring me since the night of the par-Well, I wouldn’t say ignoring me since then. He did fuck me in his office the following Thursday. But, it’s still been two weeks since he last said anything to me. Fuck, I’ve never been so mad.

“Good morning, Professor Reid,” I looked at him as I skipped into his lecture hall. I heard his words begin to greet me back, but fail when he saw what I was wearing. “Best get to my seat. Excited for today’s lesson,” I readjusted the cardigan that hung off my shoulders before turning to go to my seat. 

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walked away from him. Or, was he staring at my ass. Most likely my ass. It was my ass he was staring at. I was wearing a fairly short skirt, so that’s on me. But, I’d do anything to get his attention today. And it would appear I have gotten it. 

His lesson wasn’t actually anything important. It was just revision for the test coming up soon. But, it was obvious he had other things on his mind, and I was very clearly one of them. It was honestly a little distracting if I’m going to be honest.

So, I was happy when he called the end of class 5 minutes early. Although that excitement was gone the second he called my name to the front to talk. I looked at the ground as I stood by his desk, waiting for the very last person to leave so Spencer and I could have our moment alone.

“What are you doing wearing that?” Spencer asked as soon as it was just us. I tried to ignore the fact that he was trying to take the sweater off me, and made my shoulders drop.

“What? This old thing?” I asked, pulling the cardigan that he let me wear around my body. I looked back at him and smiled. He was not smiling. “You gave it to me,” I scoffed, letting him take it off me without a fight. I watched as he folded it over the back of the chair before turning to face me. 

“I gave it to you so your,” his words began to get jumbled up as he gestured to my boobs, “So you weren’t exposed in front of any-”

“So no one would see what belonged to you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Spencer looked down at me, a flabbergasted look on his face. I smiled and cocked my head to my shoulder.

“I… I never said that,” Spencer shook his head.

“Yeah, but you thought it,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Spencer looked down at me. I could tell that he was trying to be the one in charge, kinda like how he was the other night. But it was so, so clear that he couldn’t be in charge. That he wouldn’t be in charge now. That this was just embarrassing to him. Maybe that’s just how our dynamic would work. Out in public, I was the loud one, the one who made everyone think that I was in charge in the bedroom. And, Spencer, in public, was the quiet, shy, nervous one, who was clearly submissive in bed. But in actuality, he was telling me what to do, when and when I can’t cum.

 “Why were you wearing that?” he asked again, his voice pulling me from my very dirty thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Because you were ignoring me! I needed to get your attention somehow! And then I remembered I still had that,” I smiled at him. I wished I still had his sweater on, because it was actually quite cozy and warm. The look he gave me made me drop my shoulders, suddenly feeling ashamed about the current situation. So, I stared at him, feeling annoyed. More annoyed than I have over the last two weeks. “Do you regret it?” I finally asked, not really knowing if he’d be mad with my question. 

“Pardon me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “It’s not that I regret it-”

“So you do,” I looked back up at him and dropped my shoulders again. Before Spencer got the chance to say anything, I cut him off, “Oh please, you loved shoving your tongue, and cock, down my throat,” I scoffed before looking at him. The expression on his face flinched slightly as he looked back at me from behind the desk. “I get to… I get to be your good, little girl, your princess for, what, a week? A day? 12 hours? Whenever the fuck you want... And I’m supposed to go back to normal life the next day? And… And pretend that nothing happened!” I stared at him and shook my head. Spencer looked over at the door and back at me. “Thinking it’ll never happen again!” I shouted. I didn’t mean to shout, honest. But I was starting to get angry. He made me feel something like I belonged to someone. And now I don’t feel like that. 

“Will you stop talking for a second,” he muttered before stepping away from me and his desk. He walked over to the door and shut it. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he walked back over to me. “I never said you had to pretend as if nothing happened. And I never said that I regret it,” he spoke in a harsh whisper. I looked at him with mild irritation on my face.

“It sure fucking felt like it,” I spat at him. 

“You’re all I think about… Christ, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. I never said you had to forget everything… Because I’ve been having a hard time forgetting it myself.” He looked up at me. I almost refused to look at him, but his voice was so soft that I had to look at him. “I never expected you to forget,” he added. 

“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen,” I stared at him before swallowing roughly, “You made me feel like I was wanted, that I belonged somewhere, with someone,” I spoke as I stepped closer to him. It was only a little bit closer to him, not as much as I wanted. But he stepped closer to me, making it so we were the closest we had been all day, in one large step. "You remind me of home," I added in a whisper. Spencer smiled and cocked his head to his shoulder.

“You do belong somewhere,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, and butterflies appear in my tummy. “And that somewhere is with me,” he brought at hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to rest on my lower lip. I looked up at him before he pressed his lips to mine. 

I was honestly expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what. But I liked what he said, it made me feel really good. Like, I belonged with him, and nothing could change that.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[lottiebagley]

Family Reunions- George Weasley

Three years imagining a life together Love your family more than we loved each other I said I’d keep in touch and I did But the more we keep in touch, the more I miss him

The second she enters her small flat she can feel her entire world shatter around her. Leaning her back against the door as she sinks to the ground, head dropping into her hands as she wipes furiously at her eyes, trying to push the tears back in.

Once a week she had attended dinner at the burrow, it was nice, good to see Molly and Arthur and whichever kids were around, of course George was never there, the date marked in his calendar in a red pen reminder to not go home that day. To sleep and eat at the flat.

The family had been heartbroken to hear that he had broken up with his girlfriend, after the war he had committed all his time to helping Fred. His twin needed every last bit of his attention, helping with his physical therapy and his dwindling mental state and so George's relationship had taken a back seat. She hadn't minded, in fact she had understood, she even committed herself to helping too.

But a year after George decided to call things off, Fred was better, he was walking and he was happier and he was working again. It was the perfect time for him to focus on his relationship, after all the girl had proven herself time and time again. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Maybe it was that he felt like he needed a minute alone.

Maybe it was the feeling that she was so much better than him. Maybe it was his mother's constant talks of rings and weddings. He wasn't quite sure but all of a sudden he felt like he was suffocating.

He sat her down in his bedroom in the flat. Explained that she wasn't the one and it didn't feel right anymore. He had watched as she cried and had attempted to comfort her only for her to push him away, fleeing his flat leaving a baffled Fred on the living room sofa, television on in front of him, wondering why the girl who may as well be a sister just left the flat in floods of tears.

George still visions his mother's face when he closes his eyes, the look on her face when he told her he ended his relationship. He remembers her disappointment. He remembers his brothers shock. He remembers his dad's sad sigh. He remembers his sister's passionate rant about how he never deserved her anyway.

As the girl cries on her hallway floor she vows that she will stop. Stop seeing the Weasley's. Not because she doesn't love them with every fibre of her being but because she couldn't handle the heart break. Couldn't keep sitting at their dinner table without his hand on her knee. Couldn't keep sitting on the swing set without him laughing and pushing her. Couldn't keep helping Molly clean plates without him sat on the counter teasing her.

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I love talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

Her resolve to stop seeing the Weasley's was gone by the next morning.

She woke up to a missed call from Charlie and called back, chattering away about his upcoming trip home as she got ready.

She arrived at her job at the ministry and met up with Hermione for coffee, deciding that when she eventually cut her ties she would keep Hermione. The girl was like a younger sister, although so was Ginny, but she figured one last tie to the family, someone to hear their news from would do no harm.

Arthur knocked on her office door in his lunch break, bringing with him sandwiches made by Molly and asking her to eat with him and she didn't have the heart to say no, so instead they ate in her office and talked merrily about the infestation of singing sunglasses he was dealing with today.

As she left her office she received a phone call from Ginny, who ranted about how annoying Harry was being and how now she had graduated and was training she felt like she had no time to focus on her relationship.

It was after she assured the girl that her and Harry were meant to be as she walked through the Leaky Cauldron she knew what she had to do.

She got a flat above a bookshop on Diagon Alley simply to be near George and now everyday, walking past his store, felt like torture. She hadn't been in the store, she'd avoided it like the plague even when Fred asked her to come and hang out with him and George wasn't working. So as she walked into the atmospheric shop her heart felt like it was sinking in her chest.

"Hey sweetheart, you all okay?" Fred asks with a bright grin, he's leaning on his cane for support and eyeing the door.

She could cry looking at him. Not just because he looks identical to the man who fell out of love with her and she still pined desperately for. No. Today the tears she blinks back are practically grief, she knew that, realistically, she would see Fred around, but she wouldn't be able to call him a friend anymore.

"I uh- could I speak to George?" she questions, Fred smiles gently, noticing her pained tone.

"Yeah, of course, you can go on up," he assures. She nods shooting him a small smile, but pauses on the stairs.

"Hey Freddie,"

"Yeah,"

"I want you to know that I am really proud of you, of the shop and of how much better you are and I mean when I first met you who'd have thought you'd end up here. I just-well I love you and I am really proud," She blinks back tears as she speaks, almost wishing she would get a chance to say a goodbye to all the Weasley's.

Fred smiles gently, somewhere in him he can tell, tell that this is goodbye and he's about to loose a friend.

"I love you too sweetheart, just remember no matter what that I am always going to be here for you,"

They share eye contact for a moment, both knowing and not saying it. Fred understood, he can only imagine how hard it must be to still be a part of his family's lives after George. He knew the girl in front of him loved his twin brother more than anything, he knew that deep down George loved her just as much, and yet here Fred stands, a silent goodbye hanging in the air.

Phone calls Sweet notes All the little things I used to love Now they just remind me that I was never enough We said we’d keep in touch and I tried But the more we keep in touch, the less I move on in life

"Hey George," she speaks quietly, standing in the hallway of his flat as he stands staring at her shock.

It's been a month since he saw her and his heart leaps at the sight of her, at her standing there with a small smile and teary eyes and a pencil skirt and blazer and messy hair and she's just her. She is her and it's everything he's been missing. He wonders as he stares at her how he ever thought that she wasn't the one. That she wasn't perfect. That she wasn't made for him.

Her own eyes are wide, seeing him sparking something in her that she didn't even know existed. He's shirtless, a white towel wrapped around his hips and his hair damp from the shower he just clearly had. Her eyes scan his toned chest, his broad shoulders, the light sprinkles of freckles. His scent, his cinnamon body wash, is so strong that it practically invades her body and she could scream and cry and all she wants is to kiss him.

"Oh-shit-hi. Is everything alright?" He's worried to see her, had someone died? Was she okay? Merlin, he wanted her to be happy more than anything in the world.

"Hey," she speaks quietly, backing a way a little when he tries to move closer, not wanting to be close enough that she could reach out and touch him.

"You said that already," he teases gently, testing the waters.

"I'm sorry- I-" she cuts herself off, not sure how to say anything that she wants to

"Hey, it's okay. You're okay," he comforts her gently "Why don't you go sit down, I'll get dressed and come, just give me a minute," he offers, she nods her head slowly.

When he enters the living room it feels natural. Seeing her sat on his sofa waiting for him feels right. He thinks for a second about how it could all be different. How he could be in pyjamas and she could be in one of his shirts, how he would jump on her and laugh when she tells him he is squashing her, how he'd have held her as they watch a film and make-out and he'd cook for her and they'd drink wine and enjoy a blissful Friday evening, wrapped up in each other.  

"You're all dressed up. Going anywhere nice?" she questions, eyes scanning his white dress shirt and jeans.

"The Italian, the one in Camden town,"

"With the little dog and the red wine?" she questions, George lets out a laugh at the memory of the time he took her there, it was a month after the war, thinking back it was probably the last time he took her out. He got so busy with Fred and the shop and she'd not been a priority when he knew she should have been, she never seemed to mind though.

"That's the one,"

"So, it's a date," she smiles gently, heart splintering in her chest

"Uh, yeah. Yeah it is," he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly

"That's great, do I know her?"

"Angelina," He admits quietly. She nods, forcing a smile.

"That's great George, I'm really happy for you. I'm sorry to disturb you-"

"No!" he cuts her off a little too eagerly, a little too happy to see her. "No, you are fine being here. I want to help with whatever is happening," he assures her

"Right, well I won't keep you long," she nods awkwardly

"Hush, none of that nonsense, take all the time you need," he reassures her, sitting down next to her on the sofa but keeping a respectful distance apart.

"So-well- I know that this is-" she cuts herself off with a sigh "Sorry, this is just...awkward,"

"Hey, it's just me. You can say anything," He moves his hand to place it gently on her knee, his heart stops at the way she gently pulls her leg away.

"I need you to tell your family to stop talking to me,"

"What?" he snaps, suddenly quite offended. "My family have been nothing but kind to you and-"

"Christ! it's not like that!" she gasps, he sighs

"Then what?"

"I can't be a part of their lives anymore. I know it sounds so selfish and I wish it was different but- George- I love your family. I really do. I just- being around them hurts. It kills me. It makes me want to just drop dead because every time I talk to them I think of you. Being in your house I can feel you and- I- it hurts. It hurts too much," She admits it in a tired whisper, George feels his heart break at the thought of her heartbroken because of him.

"Okay. I'll talk to them," he speaks quietly, she nods and stands.

"Goodbye George,"

"I'll see you around?" he asks quietly, the thought of this being it makes his heart hurt. When his family were stealing seeing him all the time it wasn't as bad, he always knew what was happening in her life. This, this was final.

"Yeah. Yeah maybe,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find the words to express The way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

For the next six months George hears nothing. Without his family seeing her he has no idea how she is, if she's okay, if she's happier now. He lays up at night thinking about her and wishing he could turn back time.

She hears scraps, staying in touch with Hermione, she knows about Ron in depth, hears bits and pieces about the rest of the family. Too awkward to ask if George is okay, if he's happier without her, if he's with Angelina now.

Bill receives a card when his little girl is born but she doesn't pick up the phone when he calls her. Fred gets a text message when he finishes his physical therapy but when he replies it's left on delivered. Ginny swears up and down that she saw her in the stands of her first professional quidditch game but can't prove it.

So, with dread filling her body and curses at her nephew flying in her mind she enters Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She's hoping to go unseen by the twins, they had staff now and maybe they would never have to find out her annoyingly loveable nephew wanted a reusable swamp for his 12th birthday and absolutely nothing else would do.

"Hello, welcome to Weasley's Wizard- oh, hi," George's voice sounds anxious when he snaps his head up to see her standing like a deer in the headlights in the almost empty shop.

"Hey,"

"Is everything alright?" George wonders if the way his mind automatically jumps to something awful having happened because of the war or because he can't think of any other reason after everything he put her through that she would want to be anywhere near him.

"It's Max's birthday next week," she announces

"Yeah. 12, right?" George questions with a lopsided grin. He adored her nephew, the kid as giggly and energetic and just like him and Fred were as kids. He also loved the way she was around kids.

"Yeah," she confirms, surprised he remembers. "He, uh, started school,"

"Made Gryffindor I'm sure," George smiles, it's the first genuine smile he's let out in weeks

"Yeah. The first thing he said when he saw me at Christmas was that I just had to tell uncle George, didn't shut up about you once. I didn't have the heart to tell him we broke up so..." she trails off.

"He's a good kid,"

"He is. Professor McGonogall isn't quite so set on him,"

"Nah, she always loves the trouble makers," George smirks

"That's true," She smiles gently "Anyway, so he wants a portable swamp and nothing else instead for his birthday, so," she trails off once more, gesturing to herself.

"Well of course," George grins, pushing himself off the front desk that he had been resting on and striding across the shop floor to grab one. He grabs a basket, walking around the floor and plucking any product he thinks the kid might like, even a few unreleased things from the back room before returning to where she is standing at the front till with a small smile on her face.

"George-" she starts, he shushes her immediately.

"I'll gift wrap them for you," he announces, placing the full basket on the till

"You don't have to that," she protests but he laughs

"Actually, I kinda do. You are the worst at wrapping gifts," he teases making her smile.

"You got me there," she admits

"Yeah. So, how've you been," He begins scanning products through the till and wrapping them with ease

"Uh good. I got a promotion-"

"Wow! that's fantastic, and so well deserved,"

"How would you know?" She blushes as she speaks, not looking at the boy

"I do read the paper y'know? What is it now 100 war criminals you have single handedly found," he bolsters, she'd always wanted to be an auror but becoming so high up that she reported directly to the minister and had a big fancy office was only in her wildest dreams until now.

"What about you? How's things?" she questions

"They're good. Shop's going great and Fred's only getting better by the day. Little Victorie is so perfect and yeah life is, well, it's good," He can't bring himself to say that as much as everything is perfect he can't find it in him to be happy without her by his side.

"And Angelina?"

"We decided we were way better as friends. You dating?"

"I'm married to the job," she shrugs, not wanting to say she doubted she would ever fall in love again without him.

"I get that," he nods, placing the pile of wrapped up parcels into bags. He physically laughs when she grabs her purse and begins to gather money

"Sweetheart, you're not paying for any of this. I only rang it through the till because we have to stock management,"

"George, that is so kind but I can-"

"Yes you can, if it makes you feel better stick my name on a couple of the tags alright?"

"I will, I promise that I will," she nods, taking the bags from his hand "Thank you,"

"No bother. Give Max my best, yeah?" He smiles, she nods and he watches as she leaves the store, his heart that he hadn't even realised was practically beaming dulls back down when she goes.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king

I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express the way you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"You busy?" Hermione leans in the doorway of her office

"I can make a couple minutes, what's up? We had coffee three days ago," she reminds as the brunette steps into the office, closing the door behind her and settling in the seat across the desk.

"I know and I wanted to ask then but I couldn't bring myself to it because I feel so bad asking," Hermione explains, twisting the diamond ring on her finger anxiously.

"'Mione, you can ask me anything. You know that if it's physically possible I'll do it," she assures, putting the papers she had been reading down to give her friend undivided attention.

"You're one of my best friends," Hermione states

"And you're one of mine," The girl nods, eyebrows furrowed in concern

"And when somebody does something big in their life they want their best friends there,"

"Hermione what ever you need I'm there. 100%"

"Big things like getting married. I'm getting married, you know that, I mean to say Ron and I have picked a date and it's four months away and we are getting married at the burrow in a marquee by the lake. I know it's a lot to ask of you. I mean it's not just some ex, it's George, and I know how hard it's been for you without him and I hate myself for asking. And it's not just seeing him it's being there, I mean you fell in love with him there and it's not just him it's all of them and I understand if you say no, but, I want you there," Hermione rambles

"Of course," She speaks without thinking, never would she not attend her friends wedding "Hermione, I would love nothing more than to be there,"

"Really?" Hermione beams

"Merlin, 'Mione did you think for a second I wouldn't come, it's your wedding,"

Love them like they are my own But I don’t think I’ll ever move on If you don’t , If  you don't

It had been the most obvious thing in the world to say yes when Hermione asked, but now, standing in a stupid, but undeniably beautiful, pale blue bridesmaid dress she felt nervous. Hermione had insisted she had no obligation to see the Weasley's until the wedding day, she knew how her friends heart ached for not just George but the whole family, and wanted to make the whole thing as painless as possible.

But now, standing in the empty kitchen the morning of the wedding, the girl wondered how to breathe. She arrived by floo powder, already changed and ready like Hermione had instructed as she was getting ready with her muggle family.

She wasn't sure what she expected but it wasn't the empty, quiet room she was standing in.

She lets out a sigh, blinking back tears, the scent feeling like coming home.

"Sweetie, how are you?" She hadn't even realised Molly had entered the room from the back door until the familiar woman is pulling her into a hug.

"I'm okay, how are you?" she questions as Molly pulls away. If it were anyone else Molly would have rushed away, much too busy with preparations, but it wasn't. Molly loved the kids her children brought home in her life like her own, she missed the girl but understood that she needed space. One look at the tears in her eyes tells Molly that right now she needs to be here.

"I'm good. We are all good," Molly assures, gently guiding the girl to sit. "Now, tell me honestly, how are you?

"I'm just sorry," She admits, voice cracking and tears spilling onto her cheeks. "You must all hate me,"

"Sweetie, no one here hates you, not even for a second. We adore you," she assures, rubbing the girl's shoulder comfortingly

"All of you were always so welcoming and kind and then I just stop speaking to you all. I was so rude and I'm so sorry. Merlin, I didn't even tell you myself I made George do it,"

"None of that. You don't have to be sorry. We are the sorry ones. My son broke your heart and we were all wrapped up in loving you and wanting to be part of your life that we didn't stop to think how hard it would be for you. To be here and to talk to us. You needed to heal, no one is mad at you. We just miss you, and when or if you ever want to come back you will be welcomed with open arms," Molly assures her, grabbing a tissue to dab the girls cheeks dry.

"I missed you so much Molly," she sighs

"I missed you too dear, and I know George misses you,"

"I miss him. Every day I miss him,"

The moment is cut short when Charlie strides in through the front door "Thought I smelt trouble," He beams, wrapping his arms around the girl "Come help me with the daises, Hermione wants like a thousand and Perce is useless,"  He informs, an arm wrapped around her shoulder. She looks almost anxious and he rubs her shoulder gently "He's upstairs with Ron," he whispers gently

"You're welcome to go and speak to him if you'd rather," Molly informs, she wanted her son to be back with the girl more than anything.

"It's okay I'm happy to help,"

"Thank Merlin, I'd strangle Percy if you aren't there to stop me,"

Tell your sister if she hears from her ex I can’t be the one that she calls And as much as I’ll miss talks with your dad I need him to leave me alone Cause I can’t find words to express The way that I wish I was the one But friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

"I saw mum put you to work earlier," George's voice calls through the dark night air. She's sat in the tree house in the garden, the wedding a small distance away.

"I never mind," she shrugs as she watched him climb the ladder, he sits down next to her, legs dangling over the edge next to hers.

"Thought I'd find you here," He comments, he had built the tree house one summer when they couldn't get a minute alone. It was the first summer she spent there, between 4th and 5th year, she fell in love with him in that tree house.

"Just needed a minute," she sighs

"Yeah. It's beautiful but it's kind of a lot,"

"Weddings when you're depressingly single are often a lot," she shrugs, he chuckles at that.

"I have no clue how you are single," He comments, eyes trained on the starry sky above them

"Well, you dumped me so," she teases, a light laugh in her voice. He rolls his eyes, bumping his body to hers, for the first time since the breakup she doesn't move away from his touch. Not wanting to waste the opportunity but also not wanting to push her he settles for pressing his leg next to hers, her foot wraps around his leg holding him close to her without her even noticing, it's second nature, instinctive.

"I'm serious. You're so incredibly kind, and funny, and smart and good in bed," he adds the last one as a joke, laughing when she playfully swats his arm "and I mean, look at you right now, you're like a fucking goddess. You always are. How had no one swept you up?" He questions, and he means every word of it.

"Honestly?" she questions

"Always,"

"They've tried. I mean boys ask me out or try and get with me, but- I- well I never say yes, it's not fair to go on a date with someone when you're in love with someone else,"  She admits, she is staring straight ahead, not looking at him, so she misses the grin that brightens his face.

"That's why Angelina and I decided on friends," he admits, she hums in response not sure what to say. A comfortable silence falls over them, the sound of music from the party the only thing filling the air.

"You wanna dance?"he asks suddenly

"Sure," she agrees, he jumps down from the tree house, it's a little stupid but not unsafe and they've done it a thousand times before. She follows suit and his hands grab her waist to steady her when she stumbles a little in her heels.

He keeps his hands there, pulling her closer to him as hers wrap around his neck.

"Always thought you looked so good in blue," he admits as his thumb strokes her waist, the silky material soft under his grip. "Like a princess," he adds

"Always thought you looked so good in a suit," she grins, blushing a little as he twirls her around

"I miss you," he hums out, pulling her back closer this time, her head resting on his chest.

"I miss you," she returns.

"Y'know I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. I regret it. More than anything," he's practically whispering and his heart stops when she stills in his arms.

"I can't do this," She whispers, tugging herself from his arms

"Darling-"

"No. George, I love you, more than anything. So I can't. It's your little brother's wedding and you are lonely and you are all mixed up and we haven't seen each other in so long and weddings, merlin weddings, they confuse everything and I can't. I can't do this one last night thing. I'm sorry,"

Before George can reply, can tell her that she's so far from right she's turned around and is speeding back towards the party.

Tell your mom to stop sending me recipes she finds on the internet And when your brother wins homecoming king I won’t be there to witness it And when you find the words to express That you don’t think I am the one And friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

She pulls her apartment door open a week after the wedding, surprised to see George Weasley a determined look in his eyes and soaking wet from the rain.

"George,"

"Hi. I need to talk to you," he doesn't seem nervous, he seems like there's a fire in his belly, a determination, a purpose, a need.

"Oh, sure. Come in," She moves aside, letting him in. "The living area is at the end of the hall. I'll go grab a towel," she directs.

He looks around the living area, it's open plan to the kitchen and it's cosy. Full of pictures and little trinkets, it is fundamentally her and his he feels more at home there despite having never been before than he does in his own flat.

She re-enters, throwing a fluffy baby pink towel at George before heading into the kitchen, grabbing an extra mug having been in the process of making tea when he arrived, and fixing them both a tea how they like it.

"So, you wanted to talk?" she prompts, sitting crosslegged on the couch, her fuzzy pjs and messy hair so domestic and beautiful he would marry her on the spot to get to see her like that every day.

"You said that you didn't want to do one last night, well, I don't either. It wasn't wedding goggles making me look at you different. I am in love with you. So, in love with you that being without you makes it hard to breathe and I want you back, not just for a night but for the rest of my life," He thinks he should be nervous but he's not. It's her. He could never be nervous with her.

"George, that makes no sense why would you-"

"Listen, I have never felt good enough for you. The whole time I've known you it was like you were so above me and I could never be on your level, no matter what happened you were always perfect. You were, and are, too good for me,"

"George, I have never been-" she starts but he cuts her off

"I had to help Fred. He is my twin brother, my best friend. He nearly died and I was terrified. He was nearly crushed to death and I realised I could loose him, I could loose anyone I loved. That included you, obviously, and that's how it started. I was scared to be with you because if I lost you I couldn't cope. I couldn't survive. So I started pushing you away. But you. Merlin, you're so good that it didn't matter. I pushed you away and I was wrong to do that but you didn't waver for a second. It was my responsibility to help Fred. To go to physical therapy with him. To hold him when he cried. To be there no matter. I would have done it no matter what. But you. You didn't have to do that. But you did. You didn't complain. You didn't walk away. You helped fix Fred even when I was being crappy to you," He rants

"George, I loved you and I still do. I would have done anything you asked me to, I still would. But I didn't help Fred because of you. I didn't do it for you. Not cause I was too good. I helped Fred because he's been my friend since I was 11. I helped Fred for Fred. Not for you," She explains, George sighs.

"I know. I just was in this state right? I was scared to loose you and you've always been too good for me and I just didn't know what to do. Then, Fred was getting better, and I felt empty. I wanted Fred happy and healthy of course but I'd become so used to spending all my time trying to fix things, trying to keep everyone afloat. It felt like everything stopped. Like no one needed me. I became obsessed with things I could. I couldn't fix you, I couldn't fix us, because nothing needed fixing. You were so perfect for me that I didn't need to fix it. That scared me. The more I thought about it the more I realised if I lost you, no one could fix me, I couldn't loose you but I wasn't good enough for you. It had to be me. My terms. My breakup. It was stupid, but that was I hadn't lost you I'd given you up and that was better," he explains, tears flooding her cheeks as she suddenly understands everything that's been happening for the past months.

"Georgie, you never needed to be scared. I'm not going anywhere, I promise,"

"I know. I'm sorry that I hurt you,"

"George, I love you,"

"I love you darling, more than anything," he smiles

"So another go?" she questions timidly

"If you'll have me," he nods, she grins. Hands shoving his shoulder's back to lay against the sofa, knees on either side of his waist. Her lips touch his for the first time in months and it's like they can breathe again.

They lay side by side in her bed that night, bare skin pressed to each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible.

"Can we stay here all day tomorrow? I just wanna lay with you," she speaks tiredly, her head on his chest

"Ron and Hermione get home from the honeymoon tomorrow," George informs, she moves her head to look at him "We have a dinner thing, looking at the wedding pictures too,"he continues

"That'll be nice. You aren't leaving my bed till the very last minute though," she decides

"You should come," he prompts, giving her a squeeze

"You really think your family won't mind?"

"Please, they love you. They'll just be glad to see we are back together,"

"We could be going as friends," She teases, he rolls his eyes

"Not to a family reunion we couldn't. Besides, I have every intention to hold your hand and kiss you the whole night so they'll probably catch on. Aside from Percy, bless him, he's socially inept,"

If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions If we’re just friends don’t bring friends to family reunions

**

Masterlist

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (10)

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(technoblade x fem!reader)

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(a/n: y’all seemed to like chapter 9 so here’s chapter 10! I know, I know. still no technoblade! BUT! he WILL be arriving soon~ very soon. >:3c but for now just enjoy the rest of the utter nonsense that’s the election. and remember! reblogs and comments REALLY make writing the next chapter possible. if y’all lose interest then so will I. so reblog and comment y’all! <3)

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There was an eerie silence hanging over everyone in attendance. Nobody quite knew what to say, or even how to react to this startling new information. Not a soul spoke as a few people on stage and in the audience shared confused glances, not even whispering their questions to each other lest they shatter the heavy stillness. At least that was the case before HBomb hopped up out of his chair and gave a loud and cheerful “WHOO! NEW PRESIDENT!” that successfully slam dunked everyone back into the moment at hand. 

Suddenly you were surrounded by noise as everyone started talking at once. 

Meanwhile you remained mostly unaware of it, well more like distantly aware of it.

You stared up at the stage, locked in place from how floored you still were.

What in the absolute hell was Wilbur talking about?? 

You can’t have won! Because you weren’t running! 

So there’s no way for you to WIN something you were never actively competing for! 

There had to be a mistake. Maybe this was just some more of their silly pranks and japes before they read off the real winner, which actually wasn’t that huge of a stretch for this SMP if you were being honest. Or at least that’s what you were telling yourself anyways. Vaguely you could hear voices talking all around you, but it seemed far away, so you weren’t really registering what was being said. You were mostly just staring blankly at the stage, not really seeing any of the people up there as you tried to process what just happened.

It took Tubbo grabbing your elbow and shaking it to snap you out of the almost trance like state you'd slipped into. You looked down and he actually looked excited, but you could also see shock in his expression as well. You looked behind you to the rest of the crowd and some were clapping and cheering while others stood silent, shocked like you if you had to hazard a guess. You looked back up at the stage when you heard Tommy calling you to come up with them. You were still sorta frozen but thankfully Tubbo nudged you forward, reminding you that you needed to move. Silently you made your way up to the podium, mouth feeling dry and stomach feeling like it was full of stones.

Now that you were zoned back in you could hear the arguing coming from the podium. You were sort of dreading coming face to face with Wilbur, already knowing how… not great he took Schlatt winning from the original timeline. And he apparently knew and was friends with the ram hybrid. So you couldn’t see him being happy you won.. But when you got to the stage where the others were you couldn’t focus on Wilbur because all at once your vision was overtaken by Tommy, who was babbling about how you won! And how the hell did you win?? You weren’t even running! And how he’s pretty down they lost but at least Quackity and George didn’t win! (that got a ‘fuck you!’ out of the Spanish speaking young man) You gave a weak chuckle and said you’re not sure how or why you won but it was crazy indeed. 

Quackity, Schlatt, and George were the most vocal about not thinking the results were fair. Though to be clear, Wilbur didn’t look thrilled either, but he was doing his best to look professional or put together you guessed. Or at least not blow up in front of literally everyone. You kept an eye on him while Tommy led you up to the mic and told you to give your first decree as president. But you sorta… didn’t want to be president. You hoped you wouldn’t upset anyone by not accepting the job. But you didn’t think you’d make a good leader. So you turned away from the mic, hoping nobody but the ones beside you on stage would hear when you asked if you had to accept the role. 

This caught all the mens’ attention and Wilbur was quick to give you an out, saying no you didn’t technically HAVE to accept the presidency. In fact if you weren’t ready or willing to fill the role then the runners up, aka him and Tommy, would happily do so for you. But then Quackity, Schlatt, and surprisingly Fundy said that wasn’t fair either since both Pog2020 and Schlatt/Swag2020 were tied with the amount of votes. And you had to admit, that didn’t seem fair. But Wilbur perked up and you’d swear in that moment he was the embodiment of the ‘lightbulb above head’ phrase. Then he grinned and turned to Fundy and Niki and asked to speak to them before urging them and Tommy off the stage, leaving you and Schlatt/Swag2020 on the stage alone.

Not wanting to leave everyone in the audience hanging, you gave a polite smile and assured them that the others just wanted to…. recount the votes! They weren’t sure Wilbur counted them right so they figured recounting with some other witnesses there would clear things up! The crowd shared confused glances but it was Tubbo who yelled out that that sounded sus as hell! And if he were you he’d think they were trying to cheat or something! You snorted a laugh but assured him it was alright and you didn’t think they’d be that ballsy~

-0-

Fundy and Niki followed behind Wilbur and Tommy, the latter of the two males just as confused about what Wilbur was up to as the pair behind him. But then they all gathered in the white house and Wilbur turned to the members of Coconut2020 and said he had a proposition for them! The brunet said that since it was clear that you weren’t really up to being president, his tone derisive like your refusal of the position was tantamount to spitting in his food, then if Fundy and Niki agreed to combine their votes with Swag2020 then Wilbur could be president again and things could go back to normal!

But the blonde woman and fox hybrid didn’t look convinced.. Niki said they’d just be giving them their votes so they could win, while they got nothing? Fundy frowned and asked what positions he and Niki would have in the Pog2020 cabinet if they joined their votes with theirs. Here is where Wilbur hesitated, unsure what positions he could give them. But then he smiled and said Niki would be the First Woman, since she was the first woman to join L’manberg! And Fundy would of course be everyone’s Little Champion! He couldn’t help but baby talk his son, he’d never been able to take Fundy seriously, not really anyways. What with his alert little triangle ears, furry face, soft little paw beans, and fluffy tail. He was just too cute for Wilbur to take him seriously. Even now. But it was this attitude that would be his downfall. Because it’s what caused Fundy to snap.

“No, Wilbur! This is serious! I’m not some baby for you to dress up and prance around! I’m a fucking adult! I have my own house, I pay taxes, I fought in a war for fucks sake!” the hybrid shouted, clearly upset.

Wilbur was shocked but tried to calm Fundy down, not fully realizing how mad his son was until the red haired male practically snarled, 

“I’m not going to sit here and hand over the votes Niki and I earned just so you can treat me like a child!”

Without another word he turned on his heel and stormed out of the white house, leaving three stunned people behind. Tommy looked up at Wilbur, opening and closing his mouth, wanting so badly to say something, maybe lighten the awkward mood but not knowing what or even if he should speak at all. Meanwhile Niki just sighed and gave Wilbur a soft disappointed look. She knew Wilbur loved his son, and that often translated to him babying the hybrid. But she’d warned him, as kindly as she could, that it seemed to upset Fundy that his own father wouldn’t treat him like anything but a kid. She’s not a parent herself, so she figures it must be hard for a parent to see their child as anything but a child, even after they’ve grown. 

But she can see Fundy’s side too. It must be massively frustrating to be looked upon like you’re just a kid. Especially since Wilbur doesn’t even treat Tommy, his own younger brother, as a child as much as he does Fundy. And she’d seen first hand how Wilbur’s attitude towards Fundy, whether or not the brunet intended for it to happen or not, did in fact influence how others treated the red furred hybrid. She’d seen Tommy, Tubbo, Eret, Sapnap, and even herself a couple times sort of not treat Fundy with the respect you’d show to a fellow adult. She tried her best to kick that habit, and her and Fundy’s friendship had really blossomed thanks to it, she thinks. But she believes Wilbur just pushed his son to his breaking point…

“He’s right, Wilbur. You can’t keep babying him. He’s a grown up now..” Niki said neutrally.

Then she let out a tired sounding breath of air and turned to follow after the fox hybrid, saying she would go check on him. But she also said Wilbur needed to talk to him later, man to man, and make things right. Said brunet looked rather flummoxed, not sure what the hell just happened. It was Tommy who broke the silence by giving an almost weak sounding ‘holy shit’. Wilbur turned his perplexed gaze to his brother and asked what the HELL that was all about! Said blond winced and gave a sigh while awkwardly scratching the back of his head, not thrilled with the weird turn this conversation took, but answered Wilbur,

“Ehh… looks like you and Fundy have some unresolved personal issues, bud..”

Wilbur barked that this wasn’t the time for Fundy to let some personal vendetta against him cloud his reasoning! They were in the middle of the do or die of the election! If they couldn’t get Fundy and Niki to agree to join their votes with theirs then they won’t win! And they’ll be in a tie with Schlatt and Quackity! Wilbur jerked his hands down, like he wanted to slam them against a table or something. But instead he just viciously scrubbed his fingers through his curly hair, feeling embittered with everyone around him. All he’d wanted was to lead HIS country! Like he rightfully should have been able to! All this election bollocks and now he was having to try and convince HIS OWN SON to help him stay president?! If it were him and Phil needed help he’d give it! Well he would if Phil were ever fucking around..

The sound of a crowd cheering caused the two to whip their heads towards the area where the stage was before they looked at each other. Not a word was spoken between them as they both took off in a run towards the stage, wondering what happened and what they were missing. They rounded the corner of the building to the left of the stage to see you smiling and waving daintily to the crowd. Not sure what they’d missed, Wilbur rushed up to Niki and asked what happened. Did you accept the presidency already?? 

Niki raised an eyebrow at her friend and nodded, saying you’d finally relented and accepted the role as president after she and Fundy came back from ‘recounting the votes’. Niki hummed and said she figured that you finally accepted the results after it was made clear that if you didn’t then everything would be stuck in a tie. But then Niki’s reflecting mood brightened and she said she really thought you’d do a good job as the new president. Even joking that you had to be better than Schlatt. 

Niki never voiced it out loud but she’d been worried Schlatt and Quackity would win. Schlatt was the biggest worry for her. To his credit, he was actually a really funny guy and she could see why Wilbur was friends with him, they just had a good chemistry and their senses of humor bounced off each other well. But… Schlatt could also be blatantly power hungry and hateful if not kept in check from the few times she’d met him or heard stories about him from Wilbur. Niki felt like giving him the amount of authority that came with being president would only end poorly. And Quackity was an alright guy in her opinion but he could be vindictive and petty too. She got the vibe that any amount of power given to him would instantly go to his head and turn him into a jerk.

But again, these were just her personal (and not spoken aloud) opinions…

She always hated being mean to people and saying hurtful things. So she kept her opinions to herself more often than not. Unless it was super important anyways. So instead of elaborating on Why she was so relieved that Schlatt and Quackity hadn’t won she instead flashed the two members of Pog2020 a smile and said it had been a fun race, and despite all the drama she really thinks Tommy’s friend will do a good job. Then with a keen raise of her eyebrows the blonde suggested with a cute smile,

“Oh, maybe you could be a member of Reader’s Cabinet! I’m sure she’ll be needing a vice president, secretary of defense, treasury, and other positions!”

Niki was honestly just trying to cheer up her friend, but the cheerful smile slipped off her face at the dark look that crossed Wilbur’s. She grew concerned when she saw how hard he was clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. His behavior over the last few weeks had been slowly worrying her, but this was starting to make her anxious. And when he started marching towards the stage she shot a panicked look to Tommy, who could do nothing but give her an equally worried and confused face before they both tried to hurry after their brown haired friend. But he got up onto the stage before either of them could grab his arm, and Niki was about to call after him but he reached your side, clearing his throat and alerting you to his presence. 

You looked down and saw him standing at attention next to you, hand outstretched for a handshake and a polite but serious smile on his face. You were surprised, thinking he was handling this with more grace than you’d expected, but a feeling deep in your gut was still on edge. You knew the destruction Wilbur Soot was all too willing and capable of doing in the selfish pursuit of keeping power over the country he made. The lives of his friends and family be damned. So while you really really wanted to hope that Wilbur will be better since you won over the other parties… you’re also highly skeptical that he will manage to keep his sanity. 

But instead of showing any of your reservations you instead simply smile and shake his hand, thanking him for congratulating your win and promising him you’ll do your best with the presidency and taking care of L’manberg. And if you noticed how his smile looked a little too angry at the edges then you didn’t say anything..

So instead of dealing with the mess that was Wilbur Soot you focused on the crowd and let go of Wilbur’s hand to stand at the sort of comically short podium and spoke out to the people you were now responsible for,

“Well, this all was certainly unexpected..”

Chuckles erupted from the crowd at that, making you feel a bit better about all of this. At least you weren’t the only one to see how wild all of this mess was.

“I’m actually really shocked! I wasn’t intending to run for president but I suppose life has other plans for me. But regardless, I’m honored you’ve all put your faith in me to lead you. I swear to do my absolute best for you and help L’manberg flourish.”

Applause from the crowd made you give a genuine smile. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad?

-0-

In the audience, watching this all unfold behind a mask and tapping his foot, stood the familiar looking figure in a green hood. Hanging around next to him was Sapnap in all his black and white dressed glory. And at some point George had gotten bored with the drama on stage and had left Quackity’s side (not that the duck hybrid had even noticed or cared) and wandered over to stand with his two friends. They watched Wilbur hand over the presidency to you and George made an off hand comment that Wilbur sure didn’t look pleased with losing, a smug laugh in his sleepy tone. Sapnap snickered but stared at you and elbowed his taller friend, asking in a curious tone while subtly gesturing to you,

“Speaking of, why didn’t you tell us you’d let someone new on the server, Dream?”

His friend glanced at him for a second longer than normal before replying with a tense tone to his voice that he hadn’t let her on. That caused both Sapnap and George to jerk their heads up to look at him in visible confusion. While George stammered through a series of ‘what’s’ and ‘wait hold on-’ Sapnap was loudly questioning what the hell he meant. The mask wearing player shushed them both before looking up to see if anyone had heard them or looked over at the twos’ loud exclamations. Thankfully nobody had. So he sighed and led them a bit further away from the crowd and explained that he’d not authorized any new members to the server. and it was true, he hadn’t. But both hybrids still looked confused and George asked, clearly puzzled,

“Well then how did she get on the server?? Nobody else can let people on, right, Dream?”

Sapnap nodded but stopped when their taller friend let out a flat hum before shaking his head ‘no’. That caught the shorter twos’ attention so he elaborated by asking them,

“Who on this server is known to have Creative Mode?”

The two blinked before it dawned on them and they looked even more shocked than before, only now it was coupled with anxiousness. Sapnap harshly whispered to the two, asking why the hell fucking GOD himself would actually let someone onto the server?? DreamXD never bothered with players and stuff, only being rumored to be seen by players if they broke server rules. George added on that this all sounded really weird. And an idea hit him and he couldn’t help but voice it. 

“You don’t think… she’s linked to DreamXD.. do you? Like working for him or something?” he asked a touch nervously.

The other two didn’t say anything, not really knowing what to say to that. Sapnap could only shrug while the tallest of their group remained silent, none of them having any answers to the string of questions they’d just let loose.

They would just have to wait and see it seemed.

-0-

@lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale @bananaaddictmilkshake @realitycanbeajerk @lostandsouciant @thegeekisheere @sparkling-gayyy