#by the way. if i could instantly beam any skill into myself. it would be writing. because lol. lmao even. but we ball!!!

[bobzora]

i think if i tried hard enough i could be an ocguy. if i really tried

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

Drunken Confessions - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader (1st POV)

Summary: The boys and reader are out for a night of fun and drinking that leaves the reader with little to no memories of what happened after she had a drinking contest with Babe. As things slowly start to drift back to her, she remembers one thing clearly; she spilled her true feelings about Bill to someone. But who did she tell?

Warnings: none really, cursing per usual. No use of y/n or physical description. She/her pronouns.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt2: This turned out longer than I thought it would starting out, but I let the fanfic gods guide my fingers and here we are, haha. If anyone likes this enough, I have an idea of a next day smut part 2 I can write. Comments, likes, and reblogs make my day. Thanks for reading!

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

I wasn't sure what made me wake up. Maybe the skull splitting headache, or maybe the sun shining through the blinds hitting my face, or maybe the way I'd sell everything I owned for water or maybe my bladder being so full that a single sneeze would cause a mess. Whatever the reason, the barest of movements to open my eyelids made me want to die instantly. The only motivation I could grasp onto to get up was to empty my bladder. Dying from a hangover is one thing, dying in my own piss is not something I could ever live with. The logic of my thought made no sense, but what the hell did I care as I practically crawled to the bathroom.

Once I was relieved and able to draw the last bit of strength I had to splash water on my face and half-ass brush my teeth, I made it back to my bed with a little more dignity. Okay, it was still on my knees but at least I wasn't crawling. A win is a win. A full glass of water on my bedside table catches my eye and I down it quicker than I've ever done before, well except for maybe the drinks last night. How did this get here? No way I was coherent enough to pour a glass of water for myself to wake up to.

As I got more situated in the bed, very much facing away from the windows because I couldn't bring myself to gather any more will power to close them more properly I couldn't stop thinking about the glass of water. And then it hit me that I was not in my dress from the night before or even just my underwear but pajamas. Being aware of how little my brain and motor skills actually worked together when I'm more than tipsy, these things stood out. What the hell happened last night? I tried to focus on my last memories of the previous night hoping that would shed some light on my current situation.

~~ last night ~~

"Oh come on! Are y'all scared to lose to little ole me?" I smiled sweetly to the table, making my southern accent a little heavier to hopefully sway one of them to take on my challenge.

"None of us would lose against you, doll. We just don't want to deal with you tomorrow morning." Toye said, motioning around the table before pointing his finger directly at me. I rolled my eyes and leaned a little closer over the table.

"Nah, I'm sweet as pie darlin'. I think y'all don't want the news spreading that someone in Easy Company lost to a little farmer girl." I smirked at Toye and the rest of the men, daring them to deny it.

"Fuck it, I'll do it." Babe shot up from the end of the table and made his way over towards my section. I beamed at his cocky smiled and made shooing motions to Luz and Perco to make space so he could sit across from me. With a nod to Liebgott, I watched him go off to grab us our first rounds of beer.

As Liebgott made his way back holding two beers, I see Bull, Martin, and Bill following him from the bar.

"The fuck are you doing?" Bill's eyes bounced back and forth between me and Babe. Unsure of who was directing the question to, I shrugged and decided to answer.

"Babe thinks he can handle a drinkin' contest with me." I shoot Babe a wink as he narrows his eyes a little at me. I look back up to Bill when I hear him curse and turn more fully to Babe.

"Haven't I taught you anything? Don't start shit you can't win." He's poking Babe in the chest with every other word, making the other bat his hand away.

"Who says I ain't gonna win? Look at her, she's like a flower. This will be over by the third beer." Babe sits up straighter, setting determined eyes on me. He starts to look more annoyed than ever when Luz, Bull, and Tab start laughing.

"Anyone else, I'd say you had a chance. But she," Tab throws his arm over my shoulders, jostling me into his side, "has come the closest out of all of us to beating Bull. She lost, but damn it was amazing to watch." I give Tab a playful shove, righting myself back to a sitting position.

Babe's face has paled a little but somehow manages to look even more determined to see this through. "I'm still in."

"Perfect!" I smile at him, raising my glass to cheers him. "If I win, you have to be my shadow all day tomorrow to take care of me. If I win, you can get my cigarettes for the next two supply packages."

"Deal." Babe cheers me back, and we take our first sips of beer simultaneously. Bill looks beyond annoyed, muttering 'It's your funeral' and starts back to the bar. Bull sends me a wink, Martin a smile, and then follow behind Bill.

"Buckle up, Philly boy. You're in for a ride." I shoot a final wink at him, and then start inhaling my beer. Babe's shocked face and scramble to follow my lead is the last full coherent memory of that night.

~~

I groan in frustration as the rest of the night seems to dissolve from my mind and I can't comfortably say I know what is fiction and what really happened. I have a vague feeling dancing with Tab, Luz and Toye probably happened. Drinking usually turned to dancing in my case. I prayed that singing at the bar with Malarkey and Muck was fiction. It feels like a huge gap is missing after that (please be fictional) memory and then slivers of different memories start floating out. Suddenly I'm in a cold sweat as bits start floating in.

"He's alright but doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine."

"You can't tell him any of this. Swear it."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever."

Fuck me, fuck my parents for having me, fuck my grandparents and ancestors for having them, fuck fuck fuck. I take it back, I'd happily sing drunk songs with Malarkey and Muck for the rest of my life if I can take those words back. And just when I thought my life couldn't get worse, I shot up in bed and another fact hits me...I don't know who I said all of those things to. FUCK!

Hours later, I'm still in bed trying to make myself remember anything about my mystery companion or at the very least come up a way to turn back time. Just as my stomach growls for the fourth time, there's a knock on my door and then it's swinging open. I jump up again for the second time that day.

"Hey sleeping beauty, how's the hangover?" Luz asks, all bright eyes and smiles as Babe follows behind him looking exactly how I feel. I shift up the bed to make room for Luz to sprawl out at the foot of the bed while Babe just curls into a ball next to me, back to the window and sunlight.

"I feel like death." I manage to croak out. It's the first time I've used my voice since passing out last night and you'd swear I smoked like a chimney from the sound.

"You look it too." Luz narrowly dodges the pillow I throw at his face. The movements cause Babe to give a pathetic whine and he curls up even more. "I don't know who pissed in your coffee, but this is not how a winner should be acting." I roll my eyes, smiling briefly as I get confirmation that I did win last night. My stomach growling again wipes it from my face.

"I'm starving. And if I won, that means you're my personal shadow all day today to help me feel better." I give Babe a small nudge, just enough to make him crack an eye open to look at me. "Y'all head down to the mess hall and get me two of everything while I get ready and meet you there."

After a few seconds of Babe making no moves to get up, Luz jumps up and all but starts dragging him towards the door. "Come on, Babe, you heard your mistress." Because his hands are full with Babe, he can't dodge the pillow I throw and gives out a low 'ow' as it connects with his face.

Just as they were about to close the door, I blurted out the question I've been trying to figure out. "Hey, who helped me home last night?"

"Not sure doll, I was playing darts with Martin, Bull and Babe." Luz almost had the door closed when he poked his back back in. "Why do you ask?"

I shrug, praying it comes out nonchalant while I'm dying inside. "Just needed to ask them a question. I think I lost something on the way home and just wondered if they knew about it." Something being my dignity. "Don't worry about it, I'll figure it out. Thanks." With a nod, Luz closed the door and left me to agonize alone.

The rest of the day was the most frustrating day of my life. Not because of the hangover, that started feeling better after I got some food and water, with a splash of hair of the dog, in me. Babe started to perk up too but was still definitely battling it so I took mercy on him and let him go back to sleep until his turn for patrol that night. I had the day off from helping Nixon censor mail and finalize reports so that didn't add to my frustrations. No, all of my frustration was because I spent the whole day tracking down the guys and asking who helped me home. They all gave the same answer: wasn't me.

Through my investigating, I was able to piece a loose timeline of the night. Once our game was over, I started dancing with Tab, the next song went to Luz, and I somehow managed to drag Toye out for the one after that. Once they all declined another song, I went to the bar to get another drink and ended up singing two bar songs with Malarkey and Muck, who afterwards started up a card game with Toye, Tab and Penkala that went on the rest of the time. I apparently stayed at the bar, chatting with Bull, Martin and Bill till Luz and Babe came over and got them to play darts the rest of the night. Liebgott kept me company at the bar, making sure I started on water but eventually left to start flirting with the barmaid that kept making eyes at him. My last hope was Perco but someone told me he left before I did to get some sleep before his morning patrol.

Just as the sun started to drift down, I was at my wits end. As a last ditch effort, I decided to write up a timeline diagram to triple check that everyone was accounted for. Surely one of the guys was lying to me and waiting to use my confessions as leverage for something. I move everything on my desk to one side and start making my diagram. By my third review of it, I can't shake the feeling that I'm missing something. So I write all of the men's names down and start checking them off as I mentally go over the stories again.

Luz...check. Bull...check. Perco...check. Babe...check. Liebgott...check. Tab...check. Toye...check. Muck...check. Malarkey...check. Martin...check. Penkala...check. There's no one left. I was just a lunatic talking to myself and somehow managed to get myself home and in bed like a sober person? Just as I was about to commit to believing that I realized I left one name off the list that didn't show up in anyone's story long enough to be crossed off. Bill...fuck.

I crumbled the paper and practically sprinted to my room, dodging soldiers and helpers like a madwoman. There was more foot traffic as the morning and evening patrol were switching foxholes and dinner was currently going. I managed to catch Babe on his way towards the mess hall and made him swear to tell everyone I was still feeling sick and would be in my room the rest of the night. Thankfully he was still feeling sick, so he took me at my word and didn't pay attention to my erratic behavior.

Back in my room I couldn't decide what I was more humiliated about; spilling my secret feelings about Bill TO Bill or being so drunk I don't know it was Bill I was even talking to. With a belly flop I landed on my bed, pressed my face into my pillow and let out a full body scream. Just as it ended there was a knock on my door.

"Go away, I'm dying." I moved my face to the side so whoever was there could somewhat hear me. It wasn't from drinking but hey, semantics at this point. The knock came again, this time more forceful. "Seriously, whoever is there just let me be." With a huff I push myself off the bed and swing open the door to reveal the cause of all my misery. Bill fucking Guarnere. Fuck me.

He's leaning against the door frame without a care in the world it seems and his signature smirk on his face. He'd never looked better. "You know my ma and sisters would come all the way over here and beat my ass if they ever found out I let a woman be miserable all alone. Especially without food." He raised a small bag to emphasize his point. Without waiting for me to answer, he brushed past me into my room and sat squarely on the bed, leaning against the wall, watching me.

Who knows how long it took my brain to send the right signals to make my body move, but eventually I broke our staring contest, closed the door and made my way to the bed. Because I was basically Nix's aid, I was able to get my own room but it was the barest of bare minimums. Side table, joining bathroom, and a bed against the wall. So the only place left to sit was on the bed with Bill, but I tried to put as much distance as I could so I sat crossed legged against the wall acting as the headboard and looked at the bag he still held.

"What's in there?" I decided the best tactic right now was to pretend nothing happened at all. So far Bill seemed to be of the same mind.

"Bread and some cheese. Didn't know how much your stomach could handle." He tossed the bag to me, nodding his acknowledgement to my quick thanks and I tore it open and started nibbling on the contents. After a few beats, he decided the best time to say something was when my mouth was completely full. "So...heard you lost something last night."

Next thing I know I really do feel like I'm dying as I choke on my bite of food, simultaneously batting away his hands that are trying to reach behind to pat my back. After I get small control over my breathing, I wipe the few tears that formed and down the rest of the water I had at my bedside. Two shaky breaths later all I can manage is squeaking out, "What?"

Bill looks at me with a sliver of concern that I'll start hacking up a lung again, but slowly his normal smirk starts to form and he leans back against the wall. "Luz said you were trying to figure out who helped you home last night because you lost something. Toye and Bull said you were pretty aggressive in your questions about everyone's activities last night. If you haven't figured it out already, I was the one that helped you get home from the bar but I don't recall you losing anything." His posture was relaxed, even lazy, but his eyes were hard and jaw was set. Challenging me to make the next move.

I cleared my throat two times, before I forced myself to speak. "Yeah, I actually figured it out a little bit ago." Bill inclined his head towards me, indicating that he wanted me to elaborate on the 'losing something' part. "I, uh, well I was just trying to figure out who helped me and didn't want Luz asking a million and one questions so that seemed the best answer."

"Why didn't you come find me once you figure it all out?" One thing about Bill Guarnere, he never pulled punches and was a hound dog when he set his mind to something.

"No reason...I, uh, well I just..." I turned all my focus on the crumpled paper bag in front of me so I didn't catch his eyes and completely spill my guts. Sober this time.

"Ah come on sweetheart, cat got your tongue now?" He moved to lean down on his arm, shifting closer to me. "Let me help you remember." With that damn, sexy smirk Bill started recounting the night before to fill in the blanks.

~~ last night, Bill POV ~~

I haven't taken my eyes off her all night. If anyone asked I'd say it was out of concern for how much she drank and watching out for a fellow soldier. That was partly true, but the majority was being jealous. Jealous for how easy she laughed and touched and moved with our friends. Don't get it twisted, we are friends too, closer than most of them but it's not as carefree as these moments I'm witnessing.

It can't be carefree because if I let my guard down for one second I'd spill my guts about how she makes me feel. How everything fades out around the edges when she gives that million dollar smile and her eyes crinkle a little at the sides. How I would do anything stupid again and again to make that little snort come out when she's laughing too hard and can't help it. How I want to protect her from this war so damn bad so I never have to see pain in her eyes. How I'd fight the entire Kraut army for the chance to kiss her just once and hold her in my arms.

But I can't say any of that because I'd rather suffer in silence than risk losing her from my life, even as just a friend. So I stay silent and keep watch as everyone around me enjoys their night without a care in the world, not knowing that my entire world is sitting at the bar alone.

She's just started on a second glass of water when some guy from Fox Company slides up next to her and starts talking. Whatever he said has her turning in her seat to point in the direction of Liebgott that left her for some barmaid. While she's focused on where Liebgott is, I'm focused on watching the guy shamelessly check her out. I down the rest of my beer, shove the glass into Luz's hand and march straight over to the bar before any of the guys can ask what I'm doing.

I make it over just as their hands connect and I can hear them exchanging names.

"I can't believe someone as beautiful as you is here all alone." I'm going to brake this guys jaw.

"She's not alone, private." I push myself to my full height and use my Sergeant's voice. This makes him stand up straighter and drop her hand.

"Bill!" She says my name with so much awe and happiness, as if she hadn't be around me in some fashion throughout the night. Being to drunk to care about policy or decorum she wraps her arms around me and gives me the prettiest smile.

"Hey sweetheart," I give her a soft smile back and wrap one arm around her shoulders, keeping her where she is. I look back at the private with a hard glare and raise an eyebrow. "Need something?"

"No sir, I just came to grab a drink. I'll, uh, I'll just get one over there." He practically runs to the other end of the bar, avoiding anymore eye contact.

A soft giggle, makes me look back down and smile again. "What's so funny, doll?"

"You didn't need to scare him, we were just talking." A piece of her hair falls against her cheek when she laughs again. I move it behind her ear, letting my finger graze her cheek before I answer.

"He wanted to do more than talk, believe me."

"What would I do without Bill Guarnere as my knight in shining armor." The smile she sends up to me is nearly enough to send me to my knees right then and there.

I wrap my other arm around her and drop a quick kiss to the top of her head. "You'll never have to find out, sweetheart. I'm always gonna be there." We stay like that for a minute, which isn't nearly long enough before I say, "Come on, lets get you to bed or you're gonna be dyin' tomorrow."

She manages to be get off the barstool and walk out of the bar so efficiently I wonder if she really is as drunk as I thought, but that hope is dashed once she stumbles over air and starts laughing. I can't help but laugh with her as I grab her hands to steady her.

"We should go dancing." She suddenly says and tries to get me to spin her.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Besides you probably want Tab for that, seems to be your favorite dancing partner. Always smiling at you and everything" I meant it to come out as a joke, but it sounded more bitter that anything. Thankfully she was in her own thoughts and didn't pick up the edge to my voice.

"He's alright but he doesn't hold a candle to Bill. When he actually smiles, it's like seeing the sun shine." She says it like it's a known fact and the most natural thing in the world for her say. It stops me dead in my tracks, which stops her because we are still holding hands.

"What did you say?" I tug her a little so she's turned around and looking at me. She gives a small shrug.

"Tab is cute and sweet but he's not Bill. I'd kill to dance with him and make him smile. It's so rare and makes my whole day when I can cause it."

"Sweetheart, you do know I'm Bill." I wait for the lightbulb to go off as she takes a step closer and looks at my face.

"No you're not, you're eyes are too dark."

"They're the same as they've been my whole life."

"No, I know his eyes and yours are too dark. His are warm and beautiful with small flecks of gold in them. I could drown in those eyes forever." She lets go of my hands and starts walking off to her billet. I know I have the goofiest smile on my face as I watch her, before it's wiped away by the realization that she can't remember who I am. Of course I finally get the girl of my dreams to confess her feelings for me and she doesn't even know it's me she's talking to.

Just as I'm catching up to her, trying to figure out what to say, she turns to me with a panic stricken face. "You can't tell him any of this. Swear it." She grasps my hands again, squeezing for dear life.

"Your secrets safe with me, sweetheart." I do my best to give her a comforting smile to ease her panic, which seems to work. We don't talk anymore the rest of the way to her billet but we do hold hands the whole way.

Once we are in her room, I can tell she's losing consciousness quickly. I find some pajamas for her to change into, helping just enough to make it easier for her change without seeing or touching anything inappropriate. As she finishes changing and crawls into bed, I fill up a glass of water and set it on the bedside table. I take one final look around to make sure she's comfortable and settled in properly before dropping a kiss on top of her head and heading to the barracks for some shut eye before my patrol.

~~ End of Bill's POV ~~

I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment after Bill tells me the conversation we had. My eyes are firmly planted on the bag in my lap, that I've all but turned into confetti. I feel him shift on the bed again, so he's seated right next in front of me, but I can't bring myself to meet him gaze. His eyes never left my face the whole time he recounted everything and I'm too scared to look and see what emotion I'll find there. Amusement? Pity?

The decision is taken away from me when one of his hands cups the side of my neck and tips my head up to finally meet his gaze. There's a lot of emotion in his eyes, but I can't pinpoint what it is, which scares me even more.

"I'm sor-" I start to say but get cut off.

"Did you mean it?" His voice is soft but firm. He's not going to drop this and seems to be holding his breathe waiting for my answer.

"Yes." The word is barely more than a whisper but I know he heard it from the smile that takes over his face. Next thing I know he's leaning the rest of the way into my space, tilting my head to the side and softly pressing his lips to mine.

My hands reach up to fist his jacket, pulling him closer and the smallest whimper comes up when he nips at my bottom lip. My reaction seems to be all the go ahead Bill needs as he focuses on pulling me so we are flush against each other while taking possession over my mouth. At some point we rearrange ourselves to be laying on the bed, him draped over me like a second skin.

Our kisses between slow and languid to passionate and slightly frenzied. We don't know how long we stay like that, minutes or hours, but when we part our lips are swollen and we are breathing hard. Bill rests his forehead against mine and nudges my nose with his.

"Can I stay the night? No funny business, I just...now that I have you in my arms, I don't want to let you go just yet." He places soft kisses on both my cheeks and then my lips, looking at me with his heart in his eyes.

"I never want to be anywhere except your arms, Bill." I nudge his nose back and return the kiss he just gave. The smile he gives me has my heart melting and my lungs forgetting to breathe.

A few small kisses later, we've arranged ourselves into more comfortable positions; him on his back, me all but laying on top of him, our arms wrapped tightly around each other. Slowly we drift off to sleep with smiles on our faces thinking the same thing:

We have our whole world in our arms.

[slimearchon]

Childe & Scaramouche finding you trying on their mask/hat x GN Reader

Word count: 1092

Warnings: Mentions blood and slaying people. 

Title: Childe and Scaramouche finding you trying on their mask/hat x GN Reader

Summary: Title says it all. 

(Gifs not mine credit to owner) 

Childe:

🍮- Your lover was in the shower and it was the perfect time to do what you wanted without worry of your lover’s sapphire eyes. The only time he took his mask off his head was when he was in the shower or when he crawled into bed with you.

🍮- Once your lover’s back rested against the bed his arms would quickly encase you in his firm grip, not giving you the chance to sneak off in the night and done his crimson mask.

🍮- You thought it looked good on him and wondered if it would look the same on you.

🍮- You went to the nightstand he had laid it on and quickly snatched it up, you went over to your full-length mirror and lifted it to your head, while it looked amazing on your lover it didn’t quite look too good on you, your personality not fitting the sharp crimson edges of the mask.

🍮- “Having your fun, darling?” A voice purred, the steam from the bathroom leaking into the room.

🍮- You almost dropped the mask in your fright but caught it just in time. “I was just cleaning it a bit, making sure all the blood was wiped off it.” You mumbled, not expecting your lover to catch you.

🍮- “I’m sure.” He chuckled, not seeming to mind one bit that a sprinkle of water droplets and a blue towel were the only things on his body.

🍮- His usually smiling face taking a dark tinge, your head instantly thought of a lamb standing in front of a wolf.

🍮- He didn’t waste any more time, he stalked over to you and cornered you until you fell back onto the bed, he lifted his wet hands up to your head and cradled it, the mask in your hands was plucked from them, he settled it on your head again.

🍮- “What a lovely sight to see, I’m upset I didn’t think of it myself darling.” He darkly chuckled, his grip on you becoming possessive.

🍮- You supposed this wasn’t the worst possible outcome of him finding you playing with his things.

Scaramouche:  

🍮-His big ole hat was constantly on your mind, you found it fascinating that it was able to balance on your lover’s head while he slew those who dare come in his path.

🍮-You seemed to have the grace of the gods on your side since his urge to wet his blade with your blood never once whispered in his head, he found his lack of hostility towards you interesting.

🍮-You weren’t a fool, you knew that you had to tread lightly when it came to his mood and temper. He would never direct it at you but that didn’t mean a servant or maid wouldn’t be subjected to his bad mood if you were the one to cause it.

🍮-You knew you weren’t going to be able to change his villainess ways but at least you could help in making sure it didn’t go towards those that didn’t truly deserve his ire.  

🍮-He made sure you were content and spoiled in your little safe house, you found the name ironic considering it was a huge mansion he hides you in, making the Dawn Winery look small.

🍮-He wasn’t known for his likable personality so you could understand his overprotectiveness with your safety.

🍮-He had recently come in from another bloody mission, taking the time to bathe before searching around the mansion for you. He found you lazing in the garden delicately sitting under the stone gazebo.

🍮-As soon as you saw his indigo hair you dashed towards him, a smile beaming on your face, “My love, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” You practically purred, you shoved your secret motive aside for the time being.

🍮-You would gauge his mood before you acted.

🍮-“The mission ended earlier than expected. It seems the fools on our side aren’t as incompetent as  I thought, still lacking in combat skill though,” His voice held a note of indifference, his mind was on something more than his dull mission.

🍮-You saw the way his eyes lingered on your hands and figured out what he wanted. He had sought you out for a reason and you better fulfill it or he was going to be in a sour mood.

🍮-“Come sit down, my love. I am sure you are tired. Let me massage your scalp.” You practically sung, your voice like keys being softly struck on a piano to him.

🍮-You reached over and grabbed a plush cushion from the stone bench you were sitting on and laid it at your feet. You didn’t worry about anyone coming out to the garden and seeing him submissively kneeling between your legs.

🍮-No doubt he told the servants that if the so much as breathed in this direction it would be there last.

🍮-He had showered and dressed but still, his big hat sat on his head, you would find it locked in the closet when he wasn’t wearing it. Times like these were the only time it would be left unguarded.

🍮-You delicately took it off his slightly damp head and placed it on the bench beside your lap.

🍮-He was in a decent mood so it seems your wish to try it on would happen soon. The base of his neck rested on your knee, his eyes quickly falling shut as your fingers rubbed and prodded his scalp.  

🍮-With your fingers and your gentle humming, he went slack against your lower half.

🍮-You slowly removed your hands from his head and carefully picked up his hat, the tassels made it difficult to move it without making a sound. Soon it rested on your head, your plan to see yourself in it suddenly falling short when you realized there wasn’t a mirror around.

🍮-You had begun to pout and looked down in defeat, your heart stalling when they met indigo hues staring up at you with a glare, “Did I tell you to stop?” He hissed, bringing his rough hands up to grab yours and place them back on his head.

🍮-You mumbled an apology and got back to rubbing his head.  

🍮-“Before I wake back up my hat better be off your head.” He ordered, closing his eyes once more.

🍮-You breathed out a breath and plucked it off your head and back onto the bench. You supposed trying it on and living to tell the tale was enough.

Edited. 

I finished my Scaramouche drawing today and felt like writing up a scenario I was thinking about while coloring it. What do you think? Thank you for leaving a note/reblogging!  💜

[missblissy]

Hullo, I just discovered your content and man oh man, I am HERE for it. I was wondering if you could do something with Alastor fancying a new worker (who secretly fancies him as well) at the hotel that ALWAYS has headphones on, grinning, dancing and singing along to their tunes while they work. But, in honour of Freddie Mercury’s B-Day and MY favourite band, the new worker accidentally gets so lost in their singing and dancing that they inadvertently serenade Alastor with the song Radio Ga Ga. Thank you in advance. ☺️

((No problem Nonny~!! I had a lot of fun playing around with this one!! I'm sorry for the wait I know a lot of time as passed since then but I hope this makes up for it :'D ENJOY!!))

You had only started working at the... Happy? Happy Hotel? Yeah... Whatever, you had only been there for a week. Your job was simple, you were the hotel's private cook for its tenants. This place didn't feel like a hotel at all. You've worked at one before. It felt more like a sorry attempt at a rehab center. But that didn't really affect you at the end of your day. You simply just cooked food, and you were good at it.

The nicest part about your job was that you pretty much stayed in the kitchen, out of sight, and left to yourself. You were the only cook they needed. You'd often wear headphones and sing to yourself as you'd work tirelessly over a meal. You would also dance while you cleaned, jamming out to whatever song came out of the shuffled playlist.

You were lost in doing a little dance and wiping down a counter. In fact, you were so lost in your task that you didn't notice someone come into the kitchen. Very rarely did this happen so you never really looked out for people coming in. That and... They were behind you.

With your headphones in you also couldn't hear them. And when the next song came on you just had to turn up the volume. Your heart filled with joy at hearing one of your favorite songs. You did a little sway of your hips and pretend a spatula was your microphone.

Some parts you hummed, but when it was time to sing... Oh... boy did you sing, "I'd sit alone and watch your light~! My only friend, through teenage nights!" You were still cleaning the counter as you ran the rag over its surface and wiped away the crumbs, "And everything, I had to know. I heard it on, my radio! You gave them all! Those old-time stars, through wars of worlds- invaded by Mars~"

You through the rag into a sink across the kitchen with ease, doing a little dance and still unaware of someone with big smile, watching the new cook sing away.

"You made 'em laugh, you made 'em cry. You made us feel like we could fly! So don't become, some background noise. A backdrop for, the girls and boys. Who just don't know, or just don't care. And just complain- when you're not there!" You still had your back to the doors as you walked around the counter and dramatically dragged your fingers. You gave a quick swish of your hips as you made it over to the sink.

"You had your time, you had the power~ You've yet to have your finest hour~Radio- radio. All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio goo goo~! Radio ga ga! All we hear is radio ga ga! Radio blah blah-" You sang into your make microphone and raised a hand to the sky, you took on a the stance of the stars and sidestepped to your dance, "Radio, what's new? Radio- someone still loves you-" You did a little spin then screamed at the top of your lungs.

You dropped the spatula and nearly jumped out of your own skin. Who the hell was this!? How long was he here????? You tore out your headphones as your face began to burn.

"C-can I help you?" You had never seen him before...

The man standing before you had a loose and shallow grin on his face with his arms tucked neatly behind his back, "You have a lovely singing voice," He said to your surprise. He took a few steps towards you and went on to say, "I came by because I heard we had a new cook! I had been busy up until now so I hadn't the chance to stop by. I'm certainly glad I did now!" Eventually, he closed the distance between the two of you and held out a hand, "Alastor. A pleasure."

You stood there frozen for a few seconds. You hesitated then shook his hand, "(Y/n)... And... Thanks. I guess."

Alastor gave you a charming smile and asked, "So how is your cooking?" His red eyes bore into you, "I fancy the craft myself, so I am quite intrigued by your skill, if I may so ask."

Geeze he sure did talk like an old man. You looked around the kitchen then shrugged, "I was a private chef before I died. It's why Charlie hired me. I'd say I'm pretty good."

"Excellent!" Alastor beamed. He quickly took off his red tailor coat and threw it in some random direction. You were instantly met with a far different outfit. His red dress shirt was neatly tucked in pants, which were held up by thin black suspenders. You were most surprised as Alastor rolled up his sleeves. His gloves were not gloves at all, but a part of his skin. the deep dark colors bleed like veins up his arm before fading out

You found yourself oddly attracted to this man all of a sudden. Not because he wanted to cook with you, but because of you... didn't expect him to look that. Which happened to be very handsome without the raggy rundown tailcoat. You simply couldn't lie. He was slowly swooning you.

"W-what are we cooking?" You shyly asked.

But his enthusiasm still startled you. He had already grabbed a long knife, swung it in his hand then pointed the tip of the blade at you, "What is the dish that makes your memories come to life?"

That was kind of... how would you say it? Deep? Philosophical? Something like that. You managed to stand on the other side of the counter and grab a large spoon. You closed your eyes and thought, "Chicken and Dumpling Stew," You said as you felt a smile grow on your face as the memory came to you.

Your mother was a kind woman, and the biggest reason you became a cook. Warmth flooded your blood as the golden reminder of her cooking brought peace to your mind. You hadn't made that stew since you were alive, so something seemed even slightly more special than normal.

When you opened your eyes again, letting the memory fade away, you saw Alastor with a large smile on his face, "Well, let's get cooking then," He grinned at you, then even managed to give you a charming smile with a wink. It almost seemed like he was flirting if you didn't know any better.

You smiled at him, slightly flustered by how odd this man was but... also how nice he was trying to be. He wanted to cook with you, which honestly there was no greater way to spend time than cooking with the people you enjoy. Food brought people together, and you had an idea that Alastor saw it the same way. Which was true, he wanted to cook with you so he could get to know this new member of the staff, and perhaps he found you rather... intriguing as well too.

[passport-guardian-benrey]

Blade meets Dream

Just a little something i wrote with a friend

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

Blade was sitting on the ground in a random AU He entered, he wiped the blood from his cheekbone, He's close to crying, He's hugging his knees.

A portal opened with a flash and a skeleton clad in bright gold and blues walked through. His eyelights immediately fell on Blade and he took a step towards him, worry coloring his expression.

"Hello?"

Blade looked at him, his expression is sad, he feels betrayed, He's watching Dream, not really trusting him, He's wearing a Hood over his head.

Dream knelt a safe distance from Blade. As he got closer, Blade could feel an aura of warmth gently radiating from him.

"Hi, I'm Dream... I felt a strong presence of anguish and I came to se if i could help." Dream smiled slightly.

Blade curled up more, "I . . . I Dunno if you can . . ." Blade wiped the blood again.

"I can certainly try though." Dream got a little closer, his soothing positive aura getting slightly stronger. "What's your name?"

"B-Blade . . ." He slightly calmed down due to Dream' aura.

"Nice to meet you Blade." Dream paused and decided to rest where he was at, sitting cross legged. "Mind telling me what's bothering you?"

"I had an argument with someone . . ."

Dream winces reflexively, if the blood was anything to go by... "I'm sorry, that... that looks like it didn't end well. Do you want to talk about it? I'm a good listener... I also usually give pretty sound advice."

"This . . . person . . . wanted me to do some . . . stuff . . . and in the past they forced me to do . . . similar things . . ." A quick check of Blade' stats would show that he has a rather high LV.

Dream did just that and held a hand over his mouth in shock. He felt sickened by what he was hearing but he wanted to be sure. "By forcing you to do some stuff... do you mean killing other monsters?"

Blade hesitantly nodded at the question.

Dream inched forward. "You don't have to do anything they say anymore. I'll make sure of that." He hesitantly reached out and placed a comforting hand on Blade.

"r-really? I . . . He's pretty scary when he's angry . . . Wouldn't hesitate to kill you . . . I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me . . . because of my stupid problems . . . "

"I can be scary when i'm angry too. Don't worry, i'm a hard monster to kill. Besides..." Dream chuckled lightly. "He can't be any worse than my own brother."

"What's your brother like?"

"Haha oh man, he's... he's something. Stubborn, prideful, really smart! But terrible at card games." Dream chuckles. "...He's also... kind of a malevolent god of negativity?"

"oh" Blade wiped the blood flowing from his cheekbone again.

"Yeah... family get togethers are awkward heh." Dream jokes. "Hey uh... do you mind if... is it ok if I heal that?" Dream points to his own cheekbone.

"it's okay . . ."

Dream knee walked so he was kneeling in front of Blade and reached out to hold his face in his hands. He wiped some tears from his face and gave Blade a small smile.

"Ready?"

Blade nodded slightly.

Dream closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting his magic flow to his hands. Warmth spread from his fingertips, pleasant and soothing. Dream's magic took away all the pain away almost instantly, and with how close they were Blade could smell the faint scent of sunlight and apples wafting off of him.

Blade is looking at Dream, he relaxed.

Dream opens his eyes and meets Blade's gaze. He blushes lightly and releases Blade's face, letting his hands fall in his lap. The wound on his face was completely healed, nothing left but a fresh scar.

"th-thanks . . ." There's a light red blush on Blade' cheekbones.

Dream smiles and lets out a little chuckle, feeling giddy from the positive energy being reflected back at him. "No problem."

Blade is quiet, he continues looking at Dream.

Dream stares back for a moment, looking into blades eyes, before jumping slightly and rummaging through his inventory. "Oh! Uh here." Dream pulls out a handkerchief and hands it to Blade. "F-for the blood." He stutters.

Blade takes the handkerchief and wipes the blood from his face and hands, one of his fingers is missing, "thanks . . ."

"Again, no problem.... is.. is your hand ok though? does it need healing?"

Blade shook his head, not really aware of what Dream was talking about.

Dream tilted his head to the side. "Can I ask what happened?" Dream points to his own hand where Blade's missing finger was.

Blade realized what Dream was talking about, he frowned and looked away, " . . . I dunno if i want to talk about it now . . ."

"Ok! Um, sorry... I shouldn't have pried." Dream rubbed the back of his skull awkwardly.

"no worries . . ."

Dream nodded and stood up with a stretch. "Well! My new friend, is there anything else i can do for you?" Dream gave Blade a lopsided smile.

"I dunno . . . I guess I'll just sit here for a while and come back there to apologize to that person . . ."

"Apologize? You're not talking about the person who was making you..." Dream trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"If i don't apologize to him then I won't have anywhere to go . . . so yeah . . ." Blade lowered his head, not really happy about his idea.

"You're more than welcome to come with me."

"r-really?" Blade looked at Dream, "are you sure?"

"Definitely! I can't leave you here with them on a good conscience... and I always have room for others." Dream smiles wide. "It'd be fun."

"o-okay" Blade stood up and dusted himself off.

"Oh good! Do you want to go now then? Orrrrr!" Dream slightly bounces in place out of excitement. "Is there anything you need to grab or do before taking off?"

"we can go now . . ."

Dream opens a portal with a wave and holds out his hand to Blade. "Let us leave then."

Blade hesitantly grabs his hand.

Dream walks backwards and pulls him through the portal into the bright sun. They were at the edge of a meadow with a large two story cottage in the center surrounded by variously flowers in bloom and couple trees growing right up on it. The place looked welcoming and cozy.

Dream looked at Blade with a grin. "Welcome to your new home."

"wow . . ." Blade is amazed by this view, He's smiling slightly.

"You like it then?"

"yeah!"

"I know!" Dream chuckles. "Would you like the grand tour?"

Blade nodded slightly while looking around.

Dream, who hadn't let go of Blade' hand, made his way up a dirt path towards the quaint little house. The tall flowering grasses swayed gently in the breeze and brushed at the two skeletons as they walked by.

Blade is looking at Dream, a slight blush on his cheekbones.

Dream opened the front door and held it for Blade. "Beauty before age." He winked with a little bow.

Blade blushed a bit more and walked inside, he's looking around.

The cottage has a very open floorplan with the kitchen and livingspace in the same room and just a single hallway in the back leading to a staircase and a couple extra rooms. It's cluttered but well organized.

Dream has a collection of books and mementos overflowing from shelves and several potted plants on tables and hanging from the ceiling. the kitchen looks bright and airy and the livingroom looks cozy with two armchairs and a loveseat in front of a fireplace.

Blade likes the house, "it looks nice"

"Thank you!" Dream puffed out his chest a bit, proud. "I built it myself."

"really?"

"Yeah! Well, my brother kinda layed waste to this au... I still wanted to live here though, it was our home..." Dream trailed off, he looked out a window wistfully for a second before snapping out of it and grinning at Blade. "But that's ok, just meant everything got a fresh start!"

"yeah"

"There's a spare room upstairs though. It really doesn't have much but you're welcome to stay in it for as long as you want."

"Thank you . . . I Dunno really what to do for you in return for this . . ."

"You really don't need to do anything." Dream beams at blade and leans against the back of the loveseat. "I honestly get everything out of making others happy... helping you out legitimately fuels me."

Blade nods slowly, "s-so . . . Uh . . . W-what do you like to do in your f-free time . . .?"

"I do a lot of things. I practice archery, bake, garden... I can play the harmonica!Not that great at it though." Dream chuckles "I'm a bit tone deaf. Not like that'll stop me or anything. What about you?" Dream tilted his head questioningly.

"I like to cook, bake too, sometimes i knit and sew" Blade said a bit shyly.

"Quality skills to have." Dream compliments.

"th-thanks"

[moonbeamsung]

Serendipitous Synergy

“I can’t believe I got stuck with you, of all people, as a dance partner.”

“What? Scared I’ll steal the spotlight?”

“In your dreams, Lee.”

member: haechan

au: dance partner and rival!haechan x gn!reader

word count: 4.9k

genre: angst, suggestive, fluff

warnings: talk of insecurities and thoughts of self-doubt, a house party, stubborn reader, smug haechan, mentions of ‘sexual tension’ in the context of a dance, kissing, slight innuendos

author’s note: As a dancer myself, this idea came to me after we learned the choreography for Thriller in class one day! And yes I know Halloween was weeks ago but shhh. It’s my first time writing an enemies to lovers au, so I would greatly appreciate any feedback about things I can improve on in the future. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

network tags: @neo-constellations

“...You’ll be partnered with Haechan.”

The words of your instructor seem to swallow up the dance studio you’re standing in, echoing off of the walls with a piercing sound that makes your ears ache, your gut twist, and your blood boil.

This could not be happening.

Said boy seems just as averse to the idea as you are, the corners of his mouth downturned in displeasure.

Your teacher, however, continues to rattle off the rest of the pairs, some of them a little surprising but none nearly as unexpected as the two of you being put together.

Eyes narrowed and gazes sharp as daggers, both you and Haechan turn to stare each other down.

The standoff makes everyone else in the studio uneasy, and though the other dancers aren’t unaccustomed to your endless rivalry, they fear the potential hostility of your reactions. But to their astonishment, it never escalates beyond these stinging glares directed at one another. You’re surprisingly professional about it on the outside, not letting a single swear word slip out from between your lips, while he bites back a snarky insult.

On the inside, though, you’re a mess.

Haechan has been somewhat of an enemy of yours for as long as you can remember, though by no fault of his own. No matter what you did or how hard you tried, ever since you were both young students struggling to find your footing in the artistic world, he’s always been better than you. At everything.

If you managed to nail a double pirouette, he’d step right up and do a third like it was nothing. You finally got your split? He’s already had it for a month, at least. It just wasn’t fair. You both had started dancing at the same age, at the same time, with the same amount of experience: zero.

In all honesty, Haechan had done nothing wrong. The combination of poor timing and better luck had worked against him all those years ago to brew these bitter feelings inside of your heart, rising to the surface whenever you would set foot inside the familiar studio.

These constant sentiments of inferiority took their toll on you, making you fear being compared to him above anything else. It was childish, but you couldn’t stand to be reminded of feeling completely and utterly incompetent next to him. Whenever you performed, you were grateful for the large amount of other dancers occupying the stage, leaving little opportunity for the two of you to be noticed in conjunction with one another.

Now that it’s going to be just the two of you under the bright beams of light cascading down from the rafters, dancing in close proximity, this worry is at the forefront of your mind.

You would do anything to be able to go back to your first year at the studio, when you were young enough to recognize that his skills seemed to outweigh yours, but as a carefree child you remained largely unbothered by this fact. As you got older, it was like a switch inside of you flipped and made you extra aware of each and every thing that you did. Perhaps it was the heightened self-consciousness that puberty brought combined with the already stressful lifestyle of a dancer, but something changed one day, and it was all you could think about when you saw him.

Your internal doubts always translated into being eerily quiet during practice, asking a question to clarify the movements only when it was absolutely necessary. Even your teacher noticed a shift in how you danced. Your gestures and steps lacked their usual precision, and all the confidence you had built up for so long vanished into thin air.

Not sure how to interpret your sudden silence, Haechan took it upon himself to get a word out of you in whatever way that he could, with comments and jokes and even the occasional compliment on your technique. It hardly helped, though. In fact, your constant failure to respond to his attempts created a sort of resentment in him as well, one not generated by envy or insecurity, but simply by confusion and frustration.

During practice one afternoon, you had become so fed up with him trying to talk to you that you lashed out, pushing him away with surprising strength. “Just leave me alone!” You had shouted at Haechan, but you instantly regretted it when you saw the way his eyes welled up with shiny tears, full of hurt after his genuinely good intentions had been totally rejected by their unwilling recipient. Your guilt, however, failed to overpower your stubbornness.

This sent Haechan into his own spiral of the silent treatment before he started to channel his feelings into a similar bitterness. From that day forth, you each became the other’s arch-enemy, challenging one another in any way that you possibly could inside the studio and on the stage. Your instructor, choreographers, and fellow students quickly became tired of the implicit competition that always existed between you, but what on earth could they do to stop it?

At the present moment, they’re contemplating this exact idea, along with just why your teacher thought pairing you with each other would be a good idea. She had done it with the intention of putting a long overdue partnership into action and hopefully eliminating your immature rivalry. Selfishly, she’s also very eager to see how your mutual contempt translates into movement, inwardly predicting that the tension levels will be off the charts.

Not long after, you’re dismissed from practice for the day, but not without a warning look from Haechan. Against your better judgment, you join him by the doorway once everyone else has filed out of the studio.

He clearly called you over for a reason, but you cut him off without even waiting for him to speak.

“I can’t believe I got stuck with you, of all people, as a dance partner.”

Oh, so this is how you’re acting? Two can play at that game.

“What?” He snickers, “Scared I’ll steal the spotlight?”

“In your dreams, Lee,” you scoff, already tired of his taunting attitude.

“Anyway,” his voice is stern before doing a complete 180, now a bit more gentle, “If we’re going to be dancing together for the next few weeks, we might as well be on speaking terms, don’t you think?” The expression Haechan wears on his face is the softest you’ve seen it in a long time, which is definitely saying something.

“I suppose.” Answer short and tone abrasive, you huff a lousy excuse for a goodbye before marching out and into the hallway, but he’s faster than you. You spin around to shrug off his hand from your shoulder, and it gives him the chance to tell you one last thing.

“Look, if you’re going to be like that, it’s not going to make working together any easier. We’re not little kids anymore. You can go back to hating me once this is all over, but can we at least try to put our differences aside and just cooperate for once?”

You nearly split your lip as you bite down on it, holding back a burst of aggravation at the situation you’ve been put in. “Fine.”

You have no idea how you’re going to get through all the practices and all the shows while simultaneously dealing with the boy, but one thing’s for sure: you’re going to prove that you are just as skilled, and just as talented a dancer as he is.

The next time you see him is two days later, at your first rehearsal for this dance. Your studio has always had a Halloween-themed showcase, but it wasn’t until this year that you were old enough to finally be cast in a more exclusive number. The fact that you’re no longer a part of the large group routine, always performed to the same upbeat tune and with the same easy steps, is one of the few silver linings that your duet with Haechan presents.

Faces lined with fatigue and eyes still heavy with sleep, you both arrive at the studio in the morning, duffel bags in hand, the comfy slides on your feet dragging across the hallway carpet with every step. Loud music blares from inside the room, brightly lit despite the early hour. Beside you, Haechan instantly recognizes the tune to be Michael Jackson’s Thriller, and perks up a little at the sound. Too tired to poke fun at his near obsession with the singer, you let his little celebration of the choreographer’s song choice slide.

It’s not your usual instructor that’s going to be teaching you the movements to go along with the piece, which means you have the added challenge of adapting to a different set of preferences, expectations, and choreographing style.

It’s certainly a dance that’s unlike any you’ve ever learned before.

The rehearsal starts off well, and both of you quickly catch on to the basic steps that are somewhat like those of a waltz, except they have a more sinister feel to them in order to match the spooky time of year. Facing each other but standing on opposite sides of the room, you step forward, to the side, to the back and then to the side again. On each accented beat you throw your heads back sharply, mimicking the way the neck of an inhuman creature might snap under any sort of force.

In the next section of choreography, your gazes are supposed to meet once you tilt your heads downward, slowly this time, but it’s difficult to maintain eye contact with Haechan for more than a few seconds. Maybe it’s the way he doesn’t even hesitate to stalk towards you in this part of the dance, which calls for you to circle each other like a hungry predator and its timid prey. Maybe it’s the animalistic glint in his irises that throws off your balance and makes you stumble when you see it. Or maybe it’s the fact that your rivalry with him has been entirely disregarded at the moment, brain focused solely on absorbing all of the new information and ingraining the movements into your muscle memory, nothing else.

What frightens you even more than the things that go bump in the night is that all those years you spent... well, not hating, but strongly disliking him could go to waste. It usually takes a lot of time for you to get over things like this, and in a way, you feel like you would be disappointing yourself if you let all of the agonizing feelings of self-doubt go, just like that.

These thoughts swirl around in your mind as you listen to the choreographer’s next words.

“Okay, put your hand here.”

“Like this?”

“Yes, now you’re going to drag it across him, from there to there,” she directs you with a finger, “And then he’s going to pick you up in a scissor lift.”

You’ve never done one of those before, but with some helpful guidance, you begin to have a small bit of faith in yourself that you’re capable of pulling it off. The music starts and you go from the top all the way to the part you were just taught, taking a deep breath in preparation for what’s about to happen.

Just like you had been instructed moments ago, you step very close to Haechan, right behind him, actually, and place one hand on his shoulder as you trail the other across the front of his chest, fingernails scratching the skin underneath through the flimsy t-shirt he’s wearing. You step around to stand in front of him and continue the motion, peering at him with a hesitance that melts away and into an assertive gaze once you see the apprehension in his own eyes. His skin crawls a little, not out of fear but an odd satisfaction and excitement at the feeling of you so near and the sight of your eyes bright with so much determination and dominance, lingering touch tracing the base of his neck and stimulating his nerves from head to toe.

You yelp slightly at what he does next even though you knew it was coming, your self-assured exterior evaporating only moments after it appeared. Haechan turns around and sweeps you off of your feet to hold you in his arms. In the blink of an eye, he helps you hook one of your knees behind his head as he tosses you into the air with seemingly no effort whatsoever, flipping you around to face the other way and catching you immediately after. The complicated lift makes your heart leap to the front of your throat with exhilaration, and you mentally applaud yourself for succeeding on the first try.

Haechan finds it odd that you were so willing to do this lift in the first place, since trust is a key component of partner work in dance. He can’t explain it, and neither can you, quite honestly. A small part of him, however, is glad you didn’t object to the prospect of him being directly responsible for your safety for even the most instantaneous of moments.

“Alright, so for this next part, I’m sure you’re aware of that fact that Michael Jackson was famous for his pelvic—”

Okay, that’s enough, you’ve heard enough. Tuning out the conversation and whirling around to face away from the floor-to-ceiling mirror, you twiddle your thumbs while the choreographer teaches Haechan one of the iconic dance steps in Thriller, and your evident shyness at her unabashed explanation makes him smirk. Thankfully, she has a different set of movements prepared for you.

Since when are you ever shy around him, though?

You still can’t bring yourself to watch your reflections in the glass when you practice the new part together, since he gets so into the provocative motions. His eyes seem to taunt you with the smugness they hold, and you hate the way he’s testing you. You can’t stand it, you can’t stand him, you can’t stand those eyes for all the times they send a shiver down your spine, for all the times they come alive with a beast-like glow. Those eyes can go from soft and sympathetic at times, although the moments are rare, to something else entirely. His mocking stares make your stomach turn, reminding you of why you’ve felt this way about him for so long.

But you’re scared that a new and different feeling is developing inside of you, one that’s telling you he’s not so bad, that you should give him a chance. Haechan has noticed a similar one within himself, and he begins to regret the way he immaturely perpetuated your own resentment for so long.

Even if you do end up making amends eventually, he’s not sure he’ll be willing to abandon all of the playful glances and teasing remarks with flirtatious undertones he sends your way. Do you even notice these things? If your periodic blushing is any indication, then the answer is most definitely yes.

You spend another couple of hours under the choreographer’s direction, stopping only when you had been taught each and every step from the piece’s beginning until the end. Though a Halloween-inspired performance, there’s a surprisingly large amount of eerily romantic undertones within it. You don’t have enough fingers to count the number of times you ultimately caress some part of the other’s body in a forbidding manner, with locked eyes and threatening, fiery glares.

The two of you also have a second but more simple lift, in which you jump and Haechan catches you by the legs to pull your torso against his, while you cling to him tightly like a koala. He supports your weight fully, and never once does the possibility of falling cross your mind. It’s strange how your body is so trusting of him, much more so than your mind.

Towards the end of the song, the lyrics mention something about cuddling close together, the timing of your movements intentionally mirroring the words. Haechan walks in a circle, still carrying you in his arms, and unlike when you’re standing on your own two feet, he actually has to look up slightly to meet your gaze with his own. Something doesn’t feel quite right, though, both of you sensing that you should be putting more effort into the eye contact between you right now.

“No, no, no! Stop for a second.” Your choreographer looks frustrated.

“You have to look at each other like you really mean it,” she corrects. “Just imagine that you’re two lovers on Halloween night, clinging to each other for dear life as you’re being surrounded by every kind of monster imaginable.” Even Haechan flushes a deep red at the descriptive picture she paints in your minds, hoping to inspire you. “Try again, please.”

Putting every necessary emotion into your expressions, you both stare each other down as he lifts you up again, this time with a never-before-seen passion burning in your eyes that could only be described as crazed, lustful desire.

Haechan has always admired your skills, although internally these days, ever since he met you, especially your ability to easily adapt to the message or tone of a piece. Happiness, sadness, anger, whatever your instructor asked of you, you could embody the exact feeling on your face, not to mention in the way that you moved to the beat. Out of all of the scenarios your choreographer could have illustrated, this one is something he never would have expected you to be so ready for. He’s taken aback by how smoothly your facial expression transitions from sheepish to seductive in no time flat.

You wish you could say that you’re not flustered by how well he matches the look in your eyes with his own tantalizing gaze, but alas, that’s not the case.

It’s undoubtedly a dance with a more mature theme than either of you are used to, but you’re both such naturals at it that she compliments you once Haechan sets you back on the ground.

“That’s exactly what I want to see! Keep it up, you two. Are you sure you’ve never been in a piece with any sexual tension before?”

You’re glad you hadn’t quite taken a sip from your water bottle yet, because you definitely would’ve spit it out from pure shock and embarrassment at the bluntness of her remark. Haechan was not so lucky.

The two of you run through the dance almost endlessly, and by the end of your rehearsal your legs are threatening to give out at any moment. “Last time,” she alerts you, “And then you’re done for the day.”

A chorus of some minor corrections but mostly proud affirmations meets your ears as you practice the piece for the final time. “Other foot, Haechan... Strong arms! Good... And lift! That’s it...”

About to collapse from exhaustion and grimacing at the disgusting feeling of sweat on every inch of your skin, both of you thank the choreographer once she dismisses you.

“You two did a great job today, now go home and rest. You worked hard.”

Fishing your car keys out of your bag, you hear her packing up her things inside the studio before she exits the room and strides into the hallway, flipping the light switch and shutting the door behind her. “I’m going to recommend to your teacher that she should partner you up more often. I was really surprised by how well you collaborated.” She chuckles a little, “And to think she told me that you might not get along.”

Exchanging questioning looks, you both nod and smile at her before she makes her way down the hallway, leaving the building through the staff door.

“What was that all about?”

“No idea,” you reply to Haechan with nervousness in your voice, not sure if this is the right time to apologize for several years’ worth of constantly being at each other’s throats.

The moment passes before you can make a decision, and Haechan bids you farewell with a “See you around” over his shoulder. You can’t get the choreographer’s comment out of your mind as you drive home.

But she’s right: your chemistry with each other is unbelievable. Each time you practice this dance in front of them, the rest of your friends stand wide-eyed and open-mouthed at how you move in perfect unison, leaping and turning and touching at all the right moments. Your instructor is sure her jaw is on the floor. Sure, she was expecting something powerful, something fierce, but nothing like this.

The weeks leading up to the Halloween showcase are hectic, as they always are, filled with the rush of adrenaline and last-minute preparations being made, ensuring that everything would be ready for those long nights spent on waiting behind the curtains, moving amidst the stage fog, and dancing below the bright spotlights.

You think you’ve spoken to Haechan more in the past 4 days than you have in the past 4 years. He doesn’t know if it’s just his imagination, but it seems like you’ve gotten more comfortable performing with him as time has gone by. Maybe he should be paying more attention to the steps instead of the way you lean further into him as he clutches your form in his strong arms, torsos pressing into one another and the crevices of your bodies aligning with ease. Maybe he shouldn’t get distracted by the closeness of your lips to his forehead, by the distance that always seems to decrease each time you run through the dance. One day he’s sure he’ll feel their delicate curve against his skin, or maybe they’ll slip down a little to be more level with his. Either way, Haechan isn’t complaining.

The rehearsals that spill over from their scheduled time slots into the late hours of the night leave everyone in the show drowsy after the intense quantities of repeated exertion, running piece after piece over and over again until just standing up is a feat within itself.

And then, all of a sudden, it’s the day of the first show. Costumes have been tailored, makeup has been applied and hair has been done up with an ungodly amount of products and pins.

It can’t be much longer until it’s your turn to perform, so you’re not sure why you find yourself grabbing Haechan by the sleeve of his intentionally tattered shirt, meant to look like that of a zombie, and pulling him into a dark, secluded corner of the backstage area.

“We’re on in 5, what are y—”

“Can I apologize?”

He blinks a few times, processing the word he never thought he would hear leave your lips.

“For... huh?”

“Everything.” You’re thankful that the lighting is minimal back here, concealing the glistening water drops that are beginning to gather at the rims of your eyes.

Voice nearly breaking, you can’t articulate why it feels like the right time to say all of this. But here you are.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for so many years of unexplained anger and outbursts towards you, I’m sorry that I’ve been acting so immature even after all this time. I’m sorry for blaming you and making excuses to justify my actions and my feelings, I—”

You have more that you want to say but the words are no longer coming out, and maybe it’s because your throat feels like it’s burning from all of the emotion it just conveyed in the span of just a few seconds. Maybe it’s because you’ve somehow lost your voice even though you hadn’t been speaking above a whisper. But the most probable cause of them all, is this: maybe it’s because you’ve been rendered speechless by Haechan’s own apology that he delivers by messily crashing his mouth into yours, any further thoughts melting away against his soft lips.

For once, you don’t mind being cut off by him if it’s like this.

His heart begins to sink when you pull away after only a few seconds, but a small smile graces his features once again as you lean in so that your lips hover next to his ear.

“You better not mess up my makeup, Lee Haechan.”

“Donghyuck, actually.”

“What?” Quizzically, you arch an eyebrow.

“My name. My real name.”

“So why do y—”

“Shh, no time. Kiss now, talk later.”

You can’t argue with that. Not when he’s beholding you with a long-awaited forgiveness and a fondness long-concealed in his eyes. Not when the thrill of a time limit has your brains going a mile a minute, an electric buzz erupting over the expanse of your skin his hands are grasping.

You kiss him like it’s the only thing in the whole world that you know how to do. The setting is far from picturesque, with the tangled technical wires littering the floor at your feet and leftover stage equipment haphazardly leaning against the wall, but neither of you really care. Taking care not to snag the fabric of your costume, his fingers find purchase on your waist and his lips on the dip of your collarbone. At first they dotingly imprint fleeting pecks onto the rise and fall of the skin there, but when their pressure and his haste starts to escalate, you know you have to stop him before he starts something you can’t finish.

“Hyuck!” The abbreviation of his name makes his head snap up, bewildered but pleased.

“You can’t leave marks, I told you...” you trail off. “Hey, why are you smiling like that?”

“Please never call me anything else, ever.”

Donghyuck brings you in for one more kiss, well aware that a stagehand could turn the corner at any given moment. Drinking you in, he captures your lips between his, letting your body press his back into the wall behind him, and a few sharp inhales later, you break apart.

You fix his hair while he adjusts your clothes, and you’re just in time because a technician spots you and urgently gestures towards the stage. “You’re up!”

Positioning yourselves on opposite sides of the large performance space, the lights go down and you hear the rush of air from the heavy curtain opening as it glides past you. The thick artificial smoke partially obscures his form, but you can see his eyes clearly, nearly glowing in the darkness.

As the music starts, slow and quiet at first, you step to the rhythm just like you practiced. When a loud, electronic chord blares, you both pick up speed, launching into that waltz step you first learned many weeks earlier. For the first time ever, you’re able to look into his eyes.

Anyone could see that your movements complement each other effortlessly, but only your teacher picks up on the shift in mood after the countless times she’s seen you perform in the studio. Only she notices the shift in both of your gazes. You look... happy. Focused. Confident.

Donghyuck was able to bring you out of the shell you retreated into so long ago. You don’t feel subordinate as you’re dancing next to him, or being held in his arms. You move as equals, two parts of a whole.

When he picks you up, you can’t help but allow a small smile to stretch your lips. Donghyuck tries to remind you that you’re supposed to have lustful looks in your eyes by narrowing his own at you, but it’s no use. Your slight grin is contagious, and it ends up taking over his face as well.

You finish the piece smoothly, ending in a pose with your backs pressed together and hands clasped. Applause erupts from the audience, and a few cheers come from the rest of the performers waiting in the wings, shielded from the view of the crowd sitting in the seats below.

Needless to say, as you pass other dancers in the halls and receive countless congratulations and compliments, all you can think about is having Donghyuck’s lips on your skin again.

One long heart-to-heart and dozens, no, hundreds of kisses later, all is right with your world. It’s foreign territory to you both, not wanting to pounce on each other at every waking moment. But it’s something you’ll explore together, figuring out how to make up for lost time and just how to go about this newly-repaired relationship.

Exiting the empty dressing room, you take his hand in your own and head backstage once again to watch the rest of the showcase from the side, with your head leaning on his shoulder and his arm pulling you close.

At the party held for all the members of the show’s cast that night, it’s far too loud for your liking, and there’s no room to properly dance with Donghyuck. Despite you all being professional dancers-in-training, everyone else seems to have reverted to the mindset of your average high school student, thinking that jumping up and down repeatedly qualifies as dancing. You disagree, but whatever. It’s not important.

What is important, however, is the fact that the two of you would much rather escape the suffocating crowd of young adults. You would much rather slip out through the sliding glass door that leads to the house’s backyard, marveling at the fading sunset that melts into a deep blue night sky dotted with splashes of clustered lights. The stars are nature’s spotlights, shining down on you as Donghyuck takes you in his arms, one hand finding yours and the other resting on your side, somewhere between your hips and your waist.

Swaying in the silence with only the noises of the evening as your soundtrack, the boy that you would’ve sworn was the devil incarnate a month ago looks so angelic, so lovable. You can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing out on.

“So, should we start over?”

“Definitely.”

There’s no one else in this world you’d rather dance the night away with.

[itssuppertim3]

Second Chance (Miraak x Reader) Part 4:

The truth,

Before we knew it, a week had already flown by. Much like a mother educating her child, I taught Bjorn many things he might've forgotten about the world. I reminded him about the war, to which he was thoroughly shocked over, I demonstrated how to plant various plants and crops, and I even gave him a few spell tones to study.

The two of us sat in the shade for a while, chatting away. I remembered Elsbeth throwing several mischievous glances my way throughout the week. In my own confusion, I let it be and pretended to act aloof. "Did you know that you can even heal plants?" I flipped over to a certain page in the book and ran my finger across the wording.

I provided him a quick example by plucking a dandelion from the ground and snapping its stem in two. I focused a small percentage of healing magic over the damage and let the energy flow from my palm. With a swipe of my hand, the flower was replenished in seconds. "How interesting, though I fail to see how it can be beneficial," he confessed. "It usually helps with alchemy, but judging from how skilled you become, you could even fasten plant growth and create a barrier for defense!" He truly seemed to be intrigued by the lesson. "You're a good teacher, Y/n." My cheeks burned at his compliment and I scratched the back of my neck bashfully. "I'm really not that good. I just read a lot and work hard. Plus, there's still so much I need to learn," I clipped. "Hey, you two! I have some jobs for you to do," Elsbeth called from the porch. Bjorn rose to his feet and lended me a hand, which I gladly took.

Once we made it back to the cottage, we were both given a task. Bjorn was requested to cook dinner, and I was sent to feed the chickens. One would only think our roles would be the opposite. "I'm gonna visit Alvor for some supplies before it gets too late. Don't let me down!" We waved her goodbye as she slowly retreated down the hill. "Would you like for me to help you with the feed?" he asked. "No. I think I can manage," I laughed. "Just make sure not to set the kitchen on fire."

When he retreated into the house, I went to fetch the chicken feed. Roosters and hens combined, they swarmed around my feet, demanding their supper. "Alright, Alright! No need to get aggressive!" Their attention diverted in a flash as soon as I began to scatter their food around. While they were busy pecking away, I exited the pen and headed back towards the cottage. Before I could reach it however, I saw two figures approaching.

It seemed to be a woman and a man dressed in gawdy uniforms. "You there," the man snapped. I stood my ground and flashed a cautious smile. "Yes? Can I help you?" They both stopped just feet in front of me. Now that I could see them more clearly, they looked like something straight out of a nightmare! Their apparel was oddly fashioned, both torn and sloppily stitched. But what frightened me the most were the masks they wore over their faces. I gulped and tried to remain calm.

The woman retrieved a rolled up slip of paper from her pocket and held it to my face. My stomach flipped upon examining the illustration of a character with the very same mask that I still had in my bag. "Have you seen someone who looks like this?" he interrogated. I was somewhat able to maintain my stoic facade, though I could feel it cracking. "No. I haven't," I said, stiff as a log. "She lies, just as that deceiver did," the woman hissed. "I will ask again." I yelped when he grasped my shoulder. I sucked in a breath after feeling a dangerous heat emitting from his hand. "Where is our Master Miraak?" My eyes grew as wide as stones at his words.

"What...?"

My blood ran cold as he ignited a flame into his other hand. My shoulder started to burn painfully. "I don't know what you're talking about," I whimpered. Still, the man refused to release his hold on me. My heart drummed against my ribs and my throat ran dry. These people were going to kill me. I didn't even have enough time to watch my life play out in front of me.

Suddenly, I heard the door open from behind me and a heavy pair of footsteps marched over to us. The two culprits beamed in delight at his presence. "Master Miraak--!" A large hand swooped in and clutched the exterior of the man's face, while another shielded my eyes. I could hear my attacker kick and squirm under my savior's deadly grip. I flinched in terror as his entire body burst into flames. The heat completely overwhelmed me, licking my face as it did. And oh, the screaming. That agonizing screaming. My ears couldn't take anymore.

I knew the other one had been running by now. I cringed at the thought of being forced to endure the same awful shrieks of pain again. I tried to claw my way to safety, but I couldn't move. I was completely and utterly paralyzed under Bjorn’s touch.. "Fus, Ro Dah!" A deafening force reverberated through my very bones and melted through my skin. I couldn't even begin to comprehend it. Was that what a shout sounded like?

Although I was finally granted permission to see, I didn't dare open my eyes. I couldn't. But eventually, I did. All that remained was a pile of ashes, though there were no signs of a second one. Bjorn, or Miraak, had already left my side and was now facing away from me. I peered at him in a mixture of fear and disbelief, and something else. Sadness. I was sad. I was so terribly sad because I knew he was going to leave us; he was going to leave me. Now that his secret was out, there was no reason to stay. We were both aware that I was scared, but I wasn't scared of him. I was scared for his safety, I was scared of those people that were after him. But most importantly, I was scared for myself. I didn't want to say goodbye to someone who had brought so much light into my tiny world. And I was selfish for it.

On impulse, I ran forward and threw my arms around him. He stiffened sharply, but didn't utter a word. "Don't leave. Please don't leave." My voice was barely above a whisper, so I was certain that his ears didn't catch my plea. But he eventually tilted his head down at me in a sullen silence. My chest panged at the sight of his face. He didn't want to leave, but his words spoke the opposite. "There will be more. Your life has already been endangered once, and I can't let that happen again. Let me go, Y/n," he demanded. "I won't," I cried. I only held him tighter. "I know I'm selfish and naive and foolish, but I won't let you go!" One by one, tears slid down my cheeks and bled through the fabric of Miraak's shirt. I always loathed the way I sobbed. They were a loud and ugly mess, but that didn't stop me regardless of how embarrassing it was.

I soon found myself trembling on the ground with my hand now clutching the hem of his trousers. The tall ravenette slowly crouched to my level and reached out. However, he stopped himself and went to retract his arm away. Before he could, I grabbed his hand and held it against my damp cheek. He traced his thumb over my eyelid to rid of my tears, but frowned at his unsuccess. "What would your sister think? She'd have my head for making you cry like this," he said suddenly. "Yeah, she probably would. Don't tell me that's why you're so eager to run away," I jested. He was relieved to see me revert back to my cheerful self, but the corners of his lips flattened once again.

"You are hurt because of me. If I stay, then..."

His sentence escaped him when I shuffled closer to where we were only a breath apart. "Then take me with you." I then leaned in and softly connected our lips. I was fairly inexperienced with kissing, so I didn't know if I was doing it right. All I could do was scrunch my eyes shut and pray that he understood. My heart leapt when he returned the kiss. His lips were chapped and his scruff tickled my cheek. Everything felt so surreal. It was as if I was under some sort of hazy hypnosis. Miraak's hand cupped the back of my head while his other squeezed the small of my waist. I enclosed my arms around his neck in wild euphoria. We both seperated with great reluctance, exhaling heavily. I giggled as he began to peck every inch of skin of my face starting from my jaw to my temple. Knowing him, he probably hadn’t even held a woman in centuries.

I grimaced, instantly reminded of my current delima. Miraak threw his arms back as if he was the cause for my pain. "Come, let's go back," he recommended. I nearly released a squeal when he hoisted me into his fit arms. "What are you--what are you doing?" I stammered, face as red as the evening sky. I knew our body comparisons were different in both height and size, but this was the first time he made me feel so tiny. "I am carrying you," he stated a-matter-of-factly. "It's just my shoulder. I-I can still walk!"

“You’re still injured. It’d be shameful of me not to at least take you off your feet for a short while. Such a gentleman! Miraak's bicep curved against my back and my other shoulder bounced against his broad chest as he walked. I wasn't convinced that my face could get any redder! After acting so boldly a moment ago, I should've expected the embarrassment to catch up with me. I couldn't help but voice out a squeak after his fingers slid a bit further past the bend of my knee. "Are you alright?" It was an easy question to answer, but my mind was so scrambled I couldn't form a single syllable!

I buried my face into his shirt and shook my head. "Are you in any pain?" How could I be? I was far too distracted by my current situation, I couldn't focus on anything else! Again, I managed a silent 'no'. Miraak stood in contemplation before resuming towards the porch steps. He placed me down with great care before sitting down beside me. I avoided eye contact as he closely examined my face and held his forehead against my own. "You're warm. You must be running a fever," he concluded. I fidgeted under his touch. "Um, I don't think I have a fever," I timidly denied. Miraak's confusion roused. "Then why are you so red?" He was so close, it was like he was trying to see through my soul! "I just--," I stumbled. "I'm just a little embarrassed, is all..." He sat there a minute before also averting his gaze. "Oh. I see." The First Dragonborn cleared his throat. The two of us sat there quietly, a blushing mess.

Once Miraak was able to regain his composure, he slowly etched forward once more. He then directed his finger to my shoulder. "May I?" I nodded curtly and steered my sights to the floor. Miraak gingerly tugged at the neckline of my blouse and inspected the raw burn on my skin. I waited with interest to see how skilled he was with Restoration magic. He probably had hundreds of years’ worth of experience. A soothing warmth enveloped the entirety of my arm. It reminded me of the many hugs and kisses Pa gave me on the days before he left for yet another journey. The nostalgia brought a smile to my lips as I continued to reminisce back on my childhood.

Alas, with a snap of a finger that warmth had abandoned me. I peeked at my injury, which vanished without a trace. "If I would've known how good you are, I wouldn't have wasted time teaching you things you already know," I chuckled. The man hung a light smirk over his features before drawing me in for another kiss. "You've taught me many things, Y/n. And I am hoping for you to teach me many more." By now, the only thing I could hear was a high-pitched ringing with Elsbeth's voice echoing in the background. Wait, Elsbeth's voice? "Well, well~! I'm hardly gone for thirty minutes and you two are all over each other," she taunted, clearly amused by the display in front of her. Miraak and I both jolted away from one another and fiddled our fingers in ungodly embarrassment. “El...! When—when did you get back?” I stammered. “Oh, not long. But just in time to see the juicy bit! Tell me, how long have you been together?” Knowing that she had already seen him kiss me was humiliating enough, and she wouldn’t be my sister if she didn’t make it worse by talking about it!

That night, I told her everything, well, almost everything. Miraak and I decided that it would only complicate matters further by revealing the truth to her. Even now, she was terrified of the stories. I couldn’t even begin to imagine her reaction after realizing that it was him the entire time. I neglected to mention the assaulters, as well as the ash pile on the ground outside. As odd as it was, Elsbeth was completely unbothered by our newly founded relationship. “Y/n, you’re my little sister. Sure, I’m mad. I’m mad that a man succeeded in stealing your heart, but I’m not Pa. If you two are in love, who am I to stop you? I want you to live a full life, as well as a happy one,” she had said. In a matter of seconds, I took her into my arms and thanked her profusely. In addition, she even consented in allowing me to travel with him.

Although Miraak was paranoid, we stayed at the ranch for another week before packing our gear. I searched around my room, collecting an assortment of knickknacks and storing them into my bag. As I opened my satchel, a certain mask greeted me. I held it gingerly in my hands. The eye slits peered up at me in such an eerie way, yet I felt no fear. If anything, staring down at the pitiful thing made me feel almost melancholy. That damaged wood carving was once a shell of such a wonderful person. I brought the mask to my chest and held it there a moment with a somber smile. “Is something the matter?” I felt a warm hand on my shoulder, causing me to turn around. “No, I’m good. You’ll probably be needing this back, huh? I’m sorry I kept it so long,” I chuckled. Miraak examined the worn face piece with uncertainty. He ran his thumbs along every edge and crease and even tipped it upside down. “How do you feel?” I asked him. His green orbs met mine in a look of puzzlement. “I feel... nothing,” he stated simply. “Seeing this mask after so long, I imagined I would be more impacted. But instead it just feels silly to be haunted by it for so long. It all feels like a tucked-away nightmare.” My lips stretched into a grin as I leaned forth and wrapped my arms snuggly around him. "And that’s exactly what it is. It’s all a tucked-away nightmare.” Miraak hummed, smiling at me with adoration. He then bent down to my level and gave me a soft Eskimo kiss.

When we left home that day, we bid our farewells to Elsbeth and I made sure to do the same with all of the cows, goats, chickens, and pigs as we went. Once we reached the gate, I looked back at the ranch one last time. I thought about all of the many times I walked past this gate thinking about how extraordinarily dull my life was. Everyday, I fantasized about romance and adventure. I didn’t think someone with my position would be blessed with such an opportunity, but here I was, madly in love and on my way to start an adventurous life of my own. “Did you leave something behind?” I faced him and shook my head. “No. Let’s go!”

——————————————————————————

Yayy, finally finished the 4th part (this took me freaking forever)

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (7) Stick around

Summary: A little bit more back story about Y/N as she shares her story with Dean.

Warnings: N/A. Mechanic Dean?

A/N: I just want to say thank you to everyone who has reached out to me with your love for this series! Ya'll are the best! If you haven't heard Love of my Life by Queen, then go listen to it. Such a beautiful song.

Series Masterlist

I was up before Sam which almost never happens, but I was determined to get coffee and muffins to take over to Y/N and ask her if she wanted to come with us to Montana. Walking up to her door, I kept reminding myself to take deep breaths and not act like an idiot. I knocked on the door and I heard a faint “Come in.” Slowly pushing the door open, I see Y/N folding her clothes to pack into her suitcase. She had her hair up in a ponytail, with jeans and a hoodie on and I couldn’t help but smile when she looked up at me.

“Hey Winchester.”

“Hey!” That sounded too eager, tone it down, Dean… I cleared my throat and continued. “Do you always leave your door open for people to just walk in? That’s not very safe.”

“I just forgot to lock it this morning after I got back from the ice machine. I figured it was you or Sam knocking, but I have this bad boy ready just in case.” She reached over the bed to her nightstand and held up a large knife.”

“That’s not going to do much good if someone were to barge in here with a gun.”

Y/N raised her eyebrow at me with a doubting look on her face which made my heart jump a little. “Most of the time, bringing a knife to a gun fight is a bad idea. But most people aren’t me.” She spun the knife in her hand and set it down on the bed next to her.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” I teased and held up a small brown bag with blueberry muffins inside. “I brought you some breakfast.” My gesture was interrupted by the bag being ripped from my hands and pinned to wall just behind me with a knife. It took a second to process what just happened. “Did… Did you just throw a knife at me?” Maybe I should be concerned, but more than anything I’m beyond impressed and a little turned on.

Y/N sent a devious smile my way as she walked over and pulled the knife from the wall, catching the bag before it fell to the ground. “You sounded like you were doubtful of my knife skills so I figured I’d prove it to you.” She stuck the knife in the back of her belt and opened the bag, pulling out a muffin. “Oh, blueberry! My favorite!” How this girl can go from terrifying one second to completely adorable in the next is beyond me, but I can’t get enough of it.

I sit on the bed and she joins me, pulling her feet up and sitting cross legged by my side. “So, you got any plans after this?” I ask as she pulls a muffin from the bag and hands it to me.

“No, I don’t think so. Find a case somewhere close by, I guess?”

“Well Sam and I found one in Montana if you want in. We can always use the backup.”

Y/N’s smile fades as she pops the last bite in her mouth.

“I would love to, but I don’t know if I can…”

My heart sinks. “How come?”

“My stupid piece of crap car can barely make it fifty miles without over-heating. The trip here really did a number on it and I don’t know that it would make it all the way to Montana.”

“Well, lucky for you, I know a great mechanic.” I wink at her and dust the crumbs off my lap. “I’m good with cars. I fix my baby up all the time and keep her running like new. Let me take a look at your piece of crap and see what I can do.”

“Wow, a personal compass and mechanic who brings me breakfast first thing in the morning. What am I supposed to do without you, Dean Winchester?” I knew Y/N was joking, but all I wanted was to tell her that she never had to be without me.

“I’ll tell Sam to get a head start and scope the case out. I’ll stay here with you and fix up your car and we can meet him there. Deal?”

“Dean, you don’t need to do that.”

“I want to.”

Y/N looked skeptically at me, so I reached over and grabbed her hand, squeezing it for reassurance.

“Thank you.” She said softly.

All I wanted to do was lean in and kiss her and it took everything in me to stop myself.

“I’m going to go update Sam. Be back in a sec.”

After giving Sam the low down, I met Y/N at her car. It was a simple jeep, nothing too complicated and I figured it would be an easy fix.

“You wanna pop the hood?” I instructed. She got in the car and pulled a lever. I pulled the hood up and began looking. It only took a few minutes to find a large crack in her water pump.

“Figured it out.” I said as I shut the hood. “Your water pump is busted. Let’s take her to that auto parts store a few blocks down and I’ll have her up and running in no time.”

“My knight in grungy plaid!” She joked as she walked to the passenger side door, which I opened for her before hopping in the driver’s side.

Y/N walked across the street to the gas station and bought some snacks and drinks while I quickly changed the pump, then we headed out on the road. Sam had only left a few hours before us and I sent him a quick text letting him know that we were on our way.

We were looking at a fifteen hour drive ahead of us, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to get to know Y/N more.

“So, where’d you learn to throw knives like that?” I asked.

“Well, that’s kind of a long story.” She muttered as she shuffled through CDs, looking for one to pop in.

“We have time.” I was genuinely interested in knowing everything about her. I would sit in this stupid car for a whole week if it meant I got to be with Y/N.

I knew she could sense my sincerity and tried to repress a smile as she looked at the floor. “Well, you remember me telling you that my family died when I was little?” I nodded. “I kind of bounced around between hunters who raised me and taught me the ropes. I never really stayed with anyone for that long, though. Bobby kept me the most. I’m sure I was a burden on him, but he’s the only one who didn’t make me feel like I was, and I love him for that. But I always wanted to feel like I belonged with someone, you know? Like I just wanted to stick with one person and not have them dump me off with the next hunter who was free to look after me. I quickly learned that the more useful I was on hunts, the longer I’d stay with someone, so I decided that I’d learn how to throw knives. Bobby gave me this little guy,” she reached down and opened the glove compartment, pulling out a decent sized pocketknife, “and I practiced in every free minute I had. Eventually, I upgraded to bigger and better weapons, but this one holds a place in my heart.” She folded the knife back up and put it away. “Anyway, long story short, I got pretty good at throwing pointy things.” She chuckled.

“Did you ever get to stick with someone?”

She pursed her lips. “Not really, no. Once I was an asset on hunts, people would keep me around for longer, but never permanently. When I turned sixteen, Bobby set me up with one of his old cars and I went out on my own.”

I couldn’t fathom how anyone in their right mind wouldn’t want this amazing person around. “I’m sorry.” I shot her a sympathetic side smile.

“You don’t need to be.” I was surprised at her response. “People tell me all the time that I had a crappy childhood, but I didn’t know any different. I learned a long time ago that I can’t let myself feel deprived or angry about the past because that doesn’t help with anything. There’s enough bad that we deal with in our lives and I’m not going to make it worse by throwing a pity party for myself.” She cleared her throat and quickly shook her head, bringing a smile back on her face and changing her tone of voice instantly as she reached into the shopping bag full of treats. “Jerky or ding-dongs?” She asked.

“Jerky. I’ll leave the chocolate for you.” I remembered our conversation from the diner, how she told me she had a big sweet tooth.

“Good answer.” She beamed.

“So, your family,” I started between bites, “what were they like?”

“From what I remember, they were wonderful.” Y/N gave a sweet smile and reminisced as she gazed out the front window. “I was six when they died, so I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember my mom being patient and loving and my dad could make me laugh even on the worst days. I had 4 older brothers who were very protective. I looked up to them a lot. I’ve got some pictures at Bobby’s place. I’ll have to show you someday.”

“I’d love that.”

When Y/N showed me this side of her, it was hard to picture her as a hunter, even though I had seen firsthand how badass she could be. She seemed so vulnerable and kind, and I couldn’t understand how she could be so genuine after what she went through. I hated that she never had a true place of her own, and I wanted to tell her she had found one with me. It had only been a day and a half, but I couldn’t picture the future without this girl by my side. I wanted to tell her that, but how do I say something like that without coming off like an obsessed crazy man?

Y/N asked about my life, and I filled her in on everything. Our mom dying, our dad dying, me going to hell, and even things about myself that I wouldn’t tell Sam. I trusted her. Hours had passed and we had to stop for gas. It was getting late, and she volunteered to drive so I could shut my eyes. She had a blanket in the back seat that she gave to me and I wadded it up to use as a shield between me and the cold window.

Y/N played some music but turned it down low so she wouldn’t wake me. She must have thought I was already asleep and began to softly sing along to Love of My Life by Queen. I kept my eyes closed tight and listened to her, hanging onto every word.

You will remember

When this is blown over

And everything’s all by the way

When I grow older

I will be there at your side to remind you

How I still love you

As she sang those words, my head flooded with pictures of the two of us sitting on the porch of a small secluded house, watching our kids play in the front yard with a big old dog. I had never pictured a future like this for myself, but the minute I met Y/N, I felt a new door open for me. I had always thought that I would die young in a blaze of glory, but now all I wanted was to get out of the hunting life and live a simple one. Maybe not today or anytime soon, but someday. Was it crazy that I felt like this after knowing her for barely two days? Yes. Did I care? No.

My life had very few moments where I felt completely at peace and content, but this was one. One that I would remember every day, and the one that made me realize that I was one hundred percent head-over-heels in love with this girl.

Sam had already spoken with the police and the families of the victims by the time we got there. We quickly figured out who the wolf was and had him taken care of by the end of the day. We made a good team. I convinced Sam and Y/N that we should celebrate at the local bar, and the three of us were sitting at a table. Y/N volunteered to buy the next round and left her chair to go get it.

“So…” Sam started as I watched Y/N joking with the bartender. “You gonna tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That you like her, or whatever.”

“We’re not in high school, Sam.”

“Okay, fine. I just mean, I’ve never seen you like this before, and you need to make up your mind. We’re done with this case and she’s taking off in the morning if you don’t do something.”

I sighed and played with the label on my beer bottle. “I know…”

“I think we make a good team, the three of us.” Sam added. “Why don’t you, invite her to come hunt with us for a while?”

I looked at him skeptically. “You’d be okay with that?”

“Dean, she’s one of the best hunter’s I’ve ever seen, she actually helps with research, she’s fun, and you’re much more tolerable to be around when she’s with you.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll ask her tonight.”

YOUR POV

You, Sam and Dean had been having the time of your lives at that bar. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever felt like you fit in with anyone like this. Sam was so easy to get along with. You teased him, he teased you, and you both teamed up to tease Dean. He felt like a brother to you. Dean, on the other hand, was so caring and interested in you like no one had ever been before. You had been fighting back strong feelings for him since you had first met him just two days prior; feelings so strong that they scared you. You had heard stories about him from Bobby and other hunters about how he would reel women in, use them, and leave them, so you left your guard up a little. But you had a hard time believing he was that kind of a person. For some reason, you trusted him like you had known him your whole life and it was rare that you trusted anyone at all.

Sam was telling a story about the food Dean used to try and cook for them at motels when they were kids and couldn’t get through a sentence without splitting his side from laughter, which, in turn, made you and Dean belly laugh as well. The ringtone of your phone broke through the cackles and you pulled it from your pocket. You excused yourself and stood up from the table, walking outside where you could hear better.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N, it’s Mitch”

“Wow, hey Mitch. It’s been a long time. Everything okay?” You had worked a few cases with Mitch in the past few years. He was a decent hunter. Young, like you, so you got along with him better than older hunters who looked down on you.

“I’ve got a case in Idaho that I can’t seem to figure out. You free?”

“You’re in luck. I just finished up something in Montana. Text me your address and I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Thanks, I owe you one.”

You walk back in the bar, disappointed that you have to leave the fun. Dean smiles the second he sees you come back inside. You sat down next to him and he put his arm on the back of your chair.

“I thought you ran away, sweetheart.”

“I figured you could foot the bill.” You teased. “No, I actually got a call from a hunter in Idaho needing some help, so I think I’ve gotta call it a night and find a motel to crash at. I told him I’d be there tomorrow.”

Dean’s face dropped as you pulled out your wallet and set some money on the table. Sam gave Dean a knowing look which you caught. As you pulled on your jacket, Dean grabbed your arm softly.

“Wait, Y/N. Uhm, Sam and I were talking, and we’d love it if you’d let us stick with you for a while. If you’re okay with that, that is…”

You couldn’t fight the smile that crept up on your face. “You guys want to come with me?” Sam and Dean both nodded. “Well come on then. Let’s go get some sleep.”

The boys popped up, paid their part of the bill and Dean put his hand at the small of your back as you walked out, trailing Sam. Once you were outside, he moved his hand to grab yours, lacing his fingers between yours, which took you by surprise. “Is this okay?” He asked. Your heart was fluttering and your stomach doing flips. You nodded and smiled, squeezing his hand in response.

Chapter 8

Tags:

@panicking-outside-the-disco

@vicmc624

[illyaana]

4 to 10 - Sugawara Koushi

credits to @kvsagi for the Suga art!

Tags: Timeskip! Sick Suga x Doctor! Reader, No Specific Gender for Reader, Angst

Synopsis: Suga has been diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis ever since he was 18, a few days after he graduated from high school. He works as an author in the hospital room he currently lives in. When he was 26, you entered the hospital as an official resident doctor and you were assigned to him.

In the beginning, it was just wheezing. After serving a ball to the ace, Suga just needed a few minutes to breathe air back into his system - nothing else.

It slowly became long nights of consistent coughing. It was just a dust allergy - nothing more. Almost all his family members had it - his allergic reactions were just stronger.

It became shorter hours of practice and any forms of exercise. His lungs were just weaker than the rest of the team's. It didn't mean that he was not as skilled as them - he just had to work more efficiently - more success, less time.

Then came the first lung infection.

Then the next.

Then the next.

Then the next.

It was no longer something he could just write off anymore.

Then came the tests; one sweat test and one genetic test.

The next time people saw him, he carried a bag connected to a tube that was in his nose.

He could still live his life normally - he just needed regular checkups. The only thing he needed to do was keep his distance, keep clean and not mess up.

That's all he needed to do, right?

The attacks got worse and worse.

His lungs became so fragile the slightest amount of dust or germ could kill him.

If he wanted to live, he needed to live in the hospital.

Until his clock stopped working, he needed to stay in the white walls of the Hospital of Tokyo forever - and that is what he did.

For the next 8 years of his life, he stayed in the hospital as a 'permanent resident' and lived peacefully.

His life consisted of college online, eating, studying, cleaning his lungs, talking with the other 'permanent residents' or just 'guests', playing with kids in the pediatric ward and sleep.

That was his life - and he didn't hate it.

He soon graduated from college and university and became an author - a well-known one, may I add.

He still talked to his friends from high school - Daichi and Asahi being common visitors with the occasional visit from Kageyama and Hinata.

This was his life until his life ended.

But all that changed when you came into the hospital for the first time.

Sugawara was never one to eye at the doctors or the nurses in the hospital - he believed that it was irrational and very wrong. Yet, you somehow changed his mind almost instantly.

He couldn't muster the bravery to even welcome you on your first day by himself, despite everyone who knew him literally pushing him to do so.

He begged all of the nurses to introduce him to you, but they all wanted him to do it by himself.

"Staring at our newest doctor, huh?" said Sugawara's doctor, Hizashi Yamada from behind him.

"You want me to introduce you to them?" He asked, smiling deviously.

Soon, Suga's doctor brought him to meet you, despite all of Suga's resistance to it.

"Hello, Y/N-sensei. Welcome to the Hospital of Tokyo. It is a pleasure to have someone so well-versed in our hospital as a permanent doctor," said Hizashi-sensei.

He placed his hand out, only for you to shake it. "No need for the praises, Yamada-sensei. The fact you recognized me is a privilege itself."

"This," Yamada-sensei pulled Suga forward, "Is Sugawara Koushi. He has been admitted to our hospital ever since he was eighteen."

Suga blushed furiously.

He wasn't ready to meet you up close so quickly. He wanted to admire you from afar for at least another two more days so that he could learn about your interests, but fate wasn't on his side this time.

Not to mention, you were a doctor, too! One of the younger ones, too... and hotter...

Suga awoke from his daze when he saw your gloved hand reach out to his to give him a handshake. "Pleasure to meet you, Sugawara-san. I believe you are an author? My sister loves your books!"

Suga was internally thanking Daichi for telling him to become an author.

Suga raised his hand to meet yours in a handshake. "The pleasure is all mine."

"As you both know, I am retiring this year," Yamada-sensei said, making both you and Suga face him.

"I've discussed with the board. Y/N-sensei, you'll be in charge of Suga starting tomorrow. I will send all the information about his condition soon," He ended off with a smile.

Wait - you were in charge of him?

Suga was shaking even more now.

It would no longer be Yamada-sensei seeing the uglier side of him but the very person he was developing a crush on.

"Fate works in mysterious ways, huh?" you said, breaking Suga's train of thought.

"I guess it was good I met you today then, Sugawara-san," you ended with a cheerful smile.

"I leave myself in your care then, Y/N-sensei," Suga said while bowing to you.

"Just call me Y/N. I think you're older than me, anyway," you said, laughing a bit. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

You walked towards the nurses that were calling you, leaving an extremely red Sugawara in the middle of the foyer.

The next day stood as a challenge for the silver-haired male.

He was going to act as good as he can so that your job could be as simple as it can be - no cheeky comments, no playful jokes.

Just being a boring, normal patient for the few hours you'd be in his room.

Well, that resolve almost failed immediately when you came in and begged for a conversation with him.

"It's too quiet for me to work properly, Sugawara-san. I know you think that keeping the room quiet helps, but the tension in the room is a bit too strong for me to work normally," you said, aching for some noise to come out of him.

But he didn't say anything - not even a noise.

"If you don't say anything in the next few minutes, I am going to begin talking a bit too much and trust me, you don't want that."

You turned to prepare the machine to remove the excess mucus in his lungs.

"You can call me Suga-san if you want," Suga whispered, scared to speak as loud as he usually does.

You chuckled and turned to face him. "I was going to call you Koushi-kun, whether you liked it or not."

"So, Koushi-kun," you started, "where and when does this author's life begin?"

He chuckled softly. "I was actually born in Miyagi. I was a replacement setter for the volleyball team in my school. Then again, I played a few times even when our main setter was there."

"What school?"

"Karasuno."

You opened your eyes in shock. "Wait - you were part of the Karasuno's volleyball team that went to nationals back then!"

He stared at your wonder-filled eyes and smiled. "Yeah, I was."

"So you know Hinata Shoyo and Kageyama Tobio? The Japan players?"

Pride swelled in him when he heard those two names. "Yeah, I do. I actually taught Hinata the basics."

"You've done well, my friend," you said, earning a laugh from the 26-year old.

And that small conversation began the long conversations you both had when you were doing long hours in the hospital.

After handling other patients, you'd often spend time with Koushi in his room with the pretence of 'I'm his doctor - it's my duty to be with him most of the time.'

But that was far from the truth, wasn't it?

You were developing feelings for your own patient.

How could you not fall for him?

Behind the beautiful exterior of his was a man of true beauty itself.

He was a hard worker - spent most of his time working on his new project.

He was kind - helped the nurses with managing the kids in the pediatric ward when they went for their lunch break.

He was the ideal man for anyone.

Time passed and you had been taking care of the former setter for the past two years.

He introduced you to his friends - Asahi, Daichi, Kageyama and Hinata, if you remember correctly - when they came over.

They soon became close friends of yours too - despite your fangirling over the Japan volleyball players. They often spent hours on end with Suga in his room.

All of you enjoyed the small talks you all had together and talked about the things happening in the outside world - be it a small injury or someone's wedding.

"Y/N-san, what about you? Are you in a relationship?" the orange-haired man asked, a small yet beaming smile on his lips.

You instantly blushed and looked at Sugawara. His eyes focused solely on you, taking you in.

"I've been single my whole life. I don't think I'd be getting into a relationship soon, too. The doctor's life doesn't really revolve around romance, despite all the TV shows and movies," you ended, earning snickers from almost everyone in the room.

"How about the rest of you? Is there a conquest of love happening in your lives?" you asked. Now my turn to grin.

Both Kageyama and Hinata stared at one another, faces beet red.

Koushi sighed. "Why can't you both just tell that you're a couple? We all knew ever since high school."

"How did you all know?" Kageyama shouted. You immediately shushed him, earning a small 'sorry' from him.

"You both aren't quiet in the storage room, you know?" Daichi said. Everyone except the couple began laughing hysterically.

"Damn, the money I'd get if I leaked this to the news," you jokingly said, teasing the two players.

When the clock showed 8pm, you pushed the four of the visitors out of Suga's room.

Their time had ended and they needed to head home.

Once they left, you felt a tug on your doctor's coat. You saw Koushi asking you back into the room, not ready for you to leave yet.

"Is everything okay?" You asked him, worried about his health.

"Do you feel like there isn't enough oxygen in your tank? I can always get you a replacement right now-" Koushi placed his finger on your lips.

"Please, just listen to what I have to say," he asked, his eyes begging you to listen to him.

You closed the door behind the two of you. He pulled you to sit beside him on his bed.

"I know I don't have much time left. I already had 10 years after diagnosis when the norm is 4," he said, chuckling.

You wanted to intervene - hell, the sentence was already prepared in your head - but you didn't. From what it looked like, he wanted you to just accept whatever he had to say.

"My drive to write is long gone - I can barely write a sentence I like anymore. I love playing with the kids, but I feel like I would just disturb them rather than entertaining them. I - I feel my life slipping away from my fingers, Y/N..." he said, tears forming around his eyes.

"Yet, when I see you walk along the halls of the hospital, I feel re-energized. I only met you two years ago, but I already am so dependant on you - and not just as a doctor. You are the only thing that makes me want to get up in the morning. You are the only thing I think of when I fall asleep. You are..." he gripped on your wrist, "the only thing I want right now."

"Koushi-kun..."

"I love you, Y/N. I didn't want you to leave today without knowing this. I love you so much - as a doctor and as a person."

You hugged the male in front of you, letting his tears fall on your jacket.

"I know you can't reciprocate my feelings, but I just needed you to know."

You gripped on his shirt.

This was the only man you've ever wanted, but you could never have him.

You held your tears back as you walked out of his room.

The next day was just a blur.

The mucus in his lungs built up at an extremely fast pace.

A severe infection formed in his lungs.

You rushed from your apartment to the hospital to conduct surgery as fast as you could.

Luck, however, wasn't on your side.

In the midst of the surgery, the electrocardiogram flatlined.

Sugawara Koushi was pronounced dead at 3:45 am at the Hospital of Tokyo on the 19th of December in the year 2022.

I hope you enjoyed the fanfic! As always, if you have ideas or tropes you'd like me to try, don't hesitate to leave a suggestion here! Thanks for all the reblogs and the likes too! <3 If you want to learn about Cystic Fibrosis, I watched this video and it helped me in understanding the science part of it~

[vampiregirl1797]

First Days With Your Boyfriend’s Cardigan

Spencer Reid x Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here For Masterlist

Word Count: 2,199

Summary: Y/N is starting her first day at the BAU as a technical analyst working alongside Penelope Garcia. She turns up wearing one of Spencer’s beloved cardigans to offer her some comfort on a particularly anxious day. How will the others react when they make the connection between Y/N and Spencer?

Requested by: @synthemo 

I took a deep breath as I stared up at the FBI building in Quantico, Virginia. My boyfriend, Spencer had gotten me a job working alongside the BAU’s technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. I still had absolutely no idea how far his influence had contributed towards me getting the job, all I knew was last Wednesday at 9am I’d had a job interview with Garcia and the unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. The latter had been a little intimidating, but I’d been prepared for that thanks to Spencer’s forewarning. Thankfully, Penelope had been bright, bubbly and had made it impossible for me not to relax in her company. The interview had passed in a blur, and I’d received a call three days ago telling me I had got the job and I started today. Spence had gone in before me— he’d been called in for a child abduction case in L.A, and after rushing to get ready in under five minutes, he’d left me with a kiss and a quietly murmured ‘good luck today honey.’

I’d fallen back asleep within minutes, but when my alarm had gone off this morning, the nerves had woken with me and had been getting progressively worse since. So I’d grabbed one of Spence’s cardigans on my way out of the door— he’d worn it all day yesterday so it smelled of him, and the soft, warm fabric made me feel almost as safe as I did when I was in his arms. I was hoping no one would notice, though it was pretty oversized on me, but I could have easily bought it this big on purpose. Even if they did, I couldn’t bring myself to be too bothered by it; Spence was my boyfriend, he made me feel loved and safe, and I wasn’t going to be embarrassed for needing that today. 

I found Garcia in her bat cave pretty easily— she’d given me a tour after my interview last week and she brightened up as soon as she saw me and gave me the biggest hug, immediately making me feel more at ease. 

‘Y/N! You’re here, I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve been looking forward to this since your interview last week, I knew then that you were my missing I.T. soulmate, the yin to my computer yang.’ She paused for breath, noticing the understanding smile on my face, ‘you know exactly what I mean, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ I nodded, settling into the wheeled chair she pulled out for me and taking in the many screens that were clearly my set up, because they were the only ones in the room that were blank. While Garcia’s were lit up with programmes, search results and surrounded by so many bright, fluffy objects that instantly made my mood brighten just that little more.

‘So where do we start?’ I wondered, wrapping Spence’s cardigan tighter around me as I listened to the information Hotch had asked us both to gather.

‘Okay, so apparently our newest resident sicko is someone in this family’s life. His preference is teenagers and due to the fact that Kellen David disappeared without a struggle, the team thinks that the kid knew his abductor,’ Garcia started, handing me a list of handwritten names and sectors for me to search.

‘Got it, what permitters am I searching for?’ I asked, loading the system that I created onto my set up— I’d had it ready to go for days so it only took a few minutes to set up.

‘Any man who seems involved in the David’s lives, relatives have already been cleared, so anyone from outside blood relations who appeared when Kellen was coming out of infancy.’ Garcia reeled off, typing on her computer as she spoke.

After a moment, I joined her, both of us working silently, well up until my phone rang and I nearly fell out of my chair in surprise. Garcia laughed at my reaction and nodded towards the headset next to the phone. With a sigh I slid it on and hit answer.

‘You’ve reached one of the two technical analysts for the BAU.’ I murmured into the phone, nerves clearly present, but they disappeared when I realised who I was talking to.

‘Hey honey,’ Spence said, his voice soft and I felt my anxiety completely diminish, ‘how’s your first day going?’

‘Good, I’m over half way through the list Garcia gave me and I haven’t found anything yet.’ I told him, discreetly inhaling his scent from the cardigan I was still wearing as he spoke; with the sound of his voice and his aroma that was imbedded in his clothing, my anxiety didn’t stand a chance of re-appearing.

‘I’m glad to hear it. I’m actually calling to ask you to search something for me, would that be okay?’ He asked, sounding almost timid and it made my heart soften in his chest. He was always so considerate with me, always asking me something in a way that was clear that I could say no if I wished.

‘Of course it is. What do you need, Doc?’ The nickname slid past my lips without much thought, but I did smile when I noticed Spencer’s change in tone, hinting at the flustered state that always followed that particular endearment.

‘Can you check where Garrett Harold was around the time of the abduction?’ He said, and I knew if I could see him right now, he would be blushing and his eyes would have darkened from their usual light cinnamon to chocolate in his desire. Depending on his mood, that particular nickname could make him beam with pride, blush bashfully, or make him so overrun with desire that we would both be naked within minutes. It was unfortunate he had the latter reaction when I was thousands of miles away from him. 

‘According to credit card statements Garrett Harold was only a few blocks away from the David’s house fifteen minutes before the abduction. He bought a large caramel latte, and he even purchased a flight to Paris from his phone but there’s no record of him being in France.’ I told him, crossing my legs as I tried to dampen my own desire that always arose in response to his.

‘Thank you, honey.’ He hung up and Garcia and I fell back into the comfortable silence we’d become accustomed to very quickly. 

I didn’t know that Garcia had been half listening to our conversation, and that hearing the relaxed way I spoke to him had allowed her mind to remember where she’d seen the cardigan I was wearing before. On the resident genius, Spencer Reid. She grinned and turned back to her work, wondering how long it would take the other profilers to realise what she’d picked up on in under an hour.

//

‘How long until they’re back?’ I asked Pen for what must have been the hundredth time, but I couldn’t help it, I’d heard that Spence and Derek had to talk down the suspect. I was beyond proud of him for saving Kellen David, but I after I’d heard Garrett had fired a shot at my genius because he wanted to be shot dead and not go to prison, well I needed to see him with my own two eyes to make sure he was okay.

‘They’ll be here in a few minutes, Derek just texted me and said they’re in the elevator.’ Garcia said, typing a response to Morgan and squealing when I grabbed her arm and pulled her with me to the elevator.

When the doors finally slid open, I offered everyone else bright smiles but made a beeline for my resident genius and threw my arms around his neck. I could hear exclamations of surprise from behind me, but I didn’t care and nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, my eyes fluttering closed at how much stronger it was coming from him than the cardigan I’d been holding hostage all day.

‘Hey honey,’ he chuckled, holding me just as tightly and I smiled when I could hear him inhaling after he’d buried his face in my hair, ‘I’m okay, I told you I was.’

‘I know, but you could have lied to stop me from worrying,’ I replied, not even bothering to open my eyes.

‘Well... you’re not wrong.’ His tone was sheepish.

‘Did you get hit?’ I pulled back, my eyes taking in his appearance as if I could see any injuries that would be hiding underneath his soft cardigan, shirt, tie and dress pants.

‘No I moved out of the way, he shot the wall and Derek shot him.’ His eyes were soft as I linked my arm through his and allowed him to lead me back into the elevator.

‘Don’t you have paperwork?’ I wondered, but couldn’t stop myself from subconsciously holding him tighter at the prospect of him leaving me.

‘No, I finished it on the jet, had a feeling we’d both need each other’s company tonight.’ He smiled, caressing the side of my face and bringing my lips to his as my eyes fluttered closed at his touch. 

I didn’t notice the surprise on five of the six agents faces as they saw our familiarity that clearly hinted at a romantic relationship. The sixth agent was grinning at seeing Reid so comfortable and clearly unbelievably happy around me, well, that and the sight of the shock on her family’s faces. I was too wrapped up in how Reid’s lips felt against mine; warm, soft and comforting that I couldn’t have told you my own name if you’d asked me in that moment. As the doors slid closed, Spencer broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine as we both regained our breath.

‘I think the cats out of the bag,’ he murmured, his eyes glittering with mirth.

‘They didn’t know?’ I frowned; I’d figured Spence had told them who I was when he’d suggested me for the job.

‘No, I wanted you to know you got the job because of how amazing your technical analyst skills are, not because of your connection to me.’ He explained, his hands moving through my hair as he spoke.

I felt my eyes soften and I was pretty sure I felt my heart fall a little bit deeper in love with the brilliant, wonderful, considerate man in front of me. I noticed he was avoiding my eyes, probably because he was afraid of how I’d react at his team knowing we were together.

‘I love you, Spencer Reid.’ I murmured, smiling when his eyes met mine, the brown having melted to syrup as they softened, ‘and I don’t care that the team knows, you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met, why wouldn't I want everyone knowing that I love you?’

His eyes closed for a moment, and when he spoke I could hear the emotion that he was trying so hard to control in his voice, ‘I love you too, Y/N.’

He kissed me again, this kiss was different than the relieved kiss we’d shared earlier. This one was full of love, happiness and the adoration we shared for one another. We pulled away as the elevator came to a stop, and walked out into the lobby and out of the building hand in hand. 

‘Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you in my clothes?’ He casually mentioned as we walked to his car— I’d gotten the bus this morning seeing as he’d had to come in before me.

‘Hmm...’ I pursed my lips, pretending to give it some thought, ‘no I don’t think you have.’ I teased, knowing that he told me every time I “borrowed” his cardigans, shirts or T-shirts. 

‘Well I really love it.’ He smiled, caressing my face as he murmured, ‘I love how you borrow my clothes because they smell like me, and because they make you feel safe and remind you that you’re loved.’

I felt tears form in my eyes, once again blown away by his perceptiveness, at how well he knew me. I didn’t know what to say, other than once again tell him how much I loved him, because what was there to say to that? I wanted to tell him how much it meant to me that he knew me so well, that he took the time to understand me in a way that no one else ever had, but I just couldn’t get my lips to form the words. But I didn’t need to, because he already knew how much he meant to me, how much I adored him, how I couldn’t bear to be without him. It was obvious in the way his eyes softened as he observed me, the gentle way he tucked my hair behind my ear and the kind but firm way he held my hand. He knew me better than anyone else, and I knew that it was the same for him too. Spencer was my other half, and words couldn’t adequately describe how grateful I was to have him in my world as the love of my life and my best friend.

A/N: @synthemo I don’t know if this is what you envisioned, but this is where I went with it. I know I went a little OTT with the fluff, but what can I say, I’m an addict when it comes to fluffy moments with Spencer Reid. I hope you liked it && I’ll try and get through some of your other requests when I’m off work later in the week! ☺️

[audreyandherocs]

Thea's Cave: Chapter 5

<Previous Chapter>

“You don’t have a communicator?!”

“Tommy, tommy, I literally woke up in the world just…I don’t know how long actually?” said Thea, her face scrunching at the realization that she didn’t keep count. “Wait, what’s a communicator?”

Tubbo trotted up to her and pulled out his communicator, showing it to her. “We use these to call and keep into contact with people. Also other things like if people get despawned or something.”

“Ohhhh, yeah definitely don’t have that. If I did, then I would’ve known there were other people around.”

“This is unacceptable! We got to get you one now, or how else are you going to need help from Tubbo and I!” yelled Tommy as if it was a crime.

Thea folded her arms together and human, leaning slightly against her wall. Her newly acquired bees were buzzing around which was a great delight to Tubbo.

“I mean, I’m close to L’manberg to book for it” noted Thea but the boys didn’t notice it. They were going in and out of the house, exploring everywhere as Thea just snorted at their antics but kept on working and learning.

She had a crossbow, snatched from the pillagers all those time ago, and apparently, she could shoot fireworks out of it. She had planned to experiment more with the fireworks but that plan went out of the window when the boys came.

It had been only three days since she met these boys and she already knew, they were chaotic and would need supervision when they were handling TnT. So, she had gone out and looked for some animals, Tommy enthusiastically helping her round up cows and chickens, and bees by an enthusiastic Tubbo. Thea found some sheep and now she was just tending to them and the farmland.

“HEY THEA,” yelled Tommy from the balcony as she turned to him nonchalantly, “WHERE ARE YOUR GUEST BEDROOMS?!”

“I DON’T HAVE ANY!” she yelled back and turned to her planning potatoes.

“WHAT?! WHY!?”

“WHY WOULD I?!” she yelled back a question, before snorting. There was someone jumping off and Thea turned back to see Tommy and Tubbo parkouring off the balcony and rushing towards her.

“So we can sleep over!”

Thea stood up and dusted off her pants, noting absentmindedly that she should get new clothes.

“If you guys do, just set a bed somewhere in the bedroom, I don’t care. I got wool and dye, just mark which is which and mind my stuff.”

Tommy and Tubbo beamed and dashed off as Thea realized she had just given the two permission to set their place. Thea shrugged as she heard the two boys in her home yelling about something and as she collected honey, she felt another presence.

She turned to it, seeing Wilbur walking down her little path. His eyes met hers and Thea instinctively waved her hand to greet him, smiling as she did.

“Hello Mr. President” she said as Wilbur gave a smile.

“Thea, I see you got a house now” he said, hands folded behind his back and head turning around to take in the place.

“Yeah, don’t need much sleep and got it done” said Thea as she put away her honey. “Here on some official business?”

“Something like that but it’s nothing right now. Tommy had mentioned a few things and I had some time so I thought I would come check it out.”

Thea hummed and nodded. Her eyes focused on Wilbur’s face, taking his features in before noting how skinny he was. Even if he was tall, he looked to be pushed thin from exhaustion and lack of management. Although his eyes were not focused on her, she could see the tiredness and the bubbling madness that was threatening to burst.

She didn’t want to think why the madness was there, but she guessed it had to do with elections and politics. It always did a number on people, one way or another.

Thea gestured to her home and smiled, “Well, would you like to come in for some tea? It’ll be nice to get to know you more.”

Wilbur jumped in surprise, eyes wide.

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“I want to” said Thea, placing a hand on his arm but just above hovering. An open invitation but not one of force.

Wilbur looked at her and his posture relaxed, giving her a small smile. “That would nice, thank you.”

Thea grinned and guided Wilbur to her home. “Tommy and Tubbo are here already so what’s one more?”

Wilbur was led into her home and was immediately hit with the smell of food. His mouth watered at the smell and he then wondered when he last ate. He took another whiff and knew it was stew with freshly baked bread mixed in it. The door was opened, allowing the smell of flowers waft in.

He looked past the smell of food and he found himself standing in the room. He saw furnaces and her crafting station to one side of the home, where nearby were piles of chests and barrels. A weaving station was another part of the home with a chest bit it. There was a table with chairs surrounding it, on top of it with a nicely placed cactus.

There were two entrances, one leading up to the balcony and one leading down to the basement.

There was thumping upstairs and Wilbur instantly recognized Tommy’s and Tubbo’s voices. There were also sounds of barks and remembered Lupa and Fenrir.

Wilbur heard clattering as he turned to see Thea walking from her ‘kitchen’ and to the table. He politely walked over and sat in a chair as Thea sat opposite of him. She served the tea, him politely saying thank you before the two sat there with their tea and snacks.

There were a tense few awkward seconds before Thea felt the need to break the ice. “So, how are things?”

Wilbur chuckled nervously, lowering his cup. “I’ve been busy, with the election coming up and work to be done.”

Thea politely nodded, “Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Excuse me?”

Thea took a sip before speaking. “One cannot take care of others if they cannot take care of themselves.”

Wilbur stared at her bewildered as Thea elaborated, “I get it, being president is stressful and there are ton of things to do and think about. But you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be able to take care of anyone else; much less a country.”

The man in front of her ran a hand through his hair, resting his arms on the table. “You do make sense, but there’s a lot you don’t know. From the start, we fought for our freedom and our country but then once it was over, my control on the country has been slipping. Losing this election would make our effort for naught.”

Thea let him speak on and on, silently encouraging Wilbur to drink and eat the snacks. Soon they were finished as Wilbur sighed, leaning against his chair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t plan on-“

“I’m a new person, I literally know nothing or anyone else. With the election soon, whatever you say to me won’t matter either way, I won’t be able to influence any changes and it’ll be nothing once it’s over” cut in Thea, “So, don’t worry about it.”

Wilbur stared at her bewildered and he was only met with a straight-face. It was only a few moments pasted that Thea realized what she had said and her face was covered with her hands.

“Sorryyyyyyy, totally uncalled for” she groaned out.

Wilbur chuckled, “I didn’t expect you would say something like that.”

Thea removed her hands and she had a disgruntled face, “10 years of basically off the grid will mess with your social skills. Though, I haven’t considered myself to be particularly charismatic.”

Wilbur chuckled and took a sip of his remaining tea. Thea lowered her hands, about to speak when the tell-tale sign of Tommy yelling was heard.

“THEA!”

The aforementioned person stood up in her chair in a panic, eyes wide and body stiff with attention. She looked to the stairway and so did Wilbur. Tommy and Tubbo barreled down the stairway, holding her sketchbook in hand. They ran up to her and held out the open pages.

“I didn’t know you could draw!”

Thea relaxed, giving a huge sigh of relief and fell back into her chair. She had a hand on her face as she gave a nervous laughter. “Don’t scare me like that, I thought the worst-“

“Yeah, yeah-“ cut in Tommy before placing the sketchbook down on her table and flipped it with Tubbo and Wilbur looking with interest. “These are so pog, why don’t you show them more?!”

“Tommy, I will say this again and again. I literally woke up after god knows how long, I had other priorities. I haven’t exactly had time to paint either.”

“If we win the election, will you draw portraits of Wilbur and I?!”

Wilbur placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, scolding him. “Tommy, you can’t just ask her to-“

“Sure.”

They all looked at Thea who had a thoughtful look on her face, her arms crossed and back leaning against the chair. She had a thoughtful expression before she smiled at them. “But don’t get your hopes up though. It’s been years-“

“Wait, really?” gaped Wilbur.

Thea shrugged. “On any other circumstances, no. But, it has been years since I’ve properly drawn anything. At the end of it, it would be a great exercise and practice. Not to mention,” her eyes softened. “It’ll help solidify the fact that I’ve met people and interacted with them. That I was here.”

Wilbur looked at her with surprise as Tommy cheered. Tubbo tried to ask if he was included too which Thea confirmed that he too would be included. The two boys were chattering and bouncing off ideas to Thea who hummed and gave her honest opinions. Reminding them not to get too attached.

Wilbur had a small feeling of warmth in his chest and he didn’t know why. He was about to pull Tommy and Tubbo away for over-staying her hospitality when there was a large growl.

Everyone turned to Wilbur, whose ears turned red and Tommy gawfed, ready to make fun of the president when his own stomach betrayed him. It was Tommy’s turn for his ears to turn red and Tubbo was about to laugh and it started a domino effect.

Thea choked a bit before she let out a laugh, wheezing and everyone turned to her as she was slamming her hand on the table and knee, before keeling over and continued to laugh. They all watched in awe and concern as the girl continued to laugh and fall onto the ground, holding her stomach.

“What are the odds- HOLY COW” choked out Thea in laughter as she struggled to get back on her feet. “I…the ODDS!”

Tommy gawked at her and started to protest. “Hey, hey, stop laughing!-“

Thea snorted as she shakily made her way to the kitchen. “I…I’m going to get… *SNORT* Just sit down, I got it-“ she continued to laugh, forcing herself to stop as she slammed her head against the wall to force herself to stop.

Tubbo giggled before he went to help Thea who was wobbling due to the lack of oxygen.

Wilbur ran a hand over his neck bashfully as Tommy groaned, muttering to himself. Soon, they were all gathered around the table as plates of food were offered. They all dug into the soup, bread, and meats that were offered.

All three of them dug into their food and Thea couldn’t help feel that her suspicions were right on that they weren’t really taking care of themselves. She absently mindedly noted to keep her food stores stocked in case these shared meals were going to be frequent.

As dinner was wrapped up, Thea asked Tommy and Tubbo to help feed her wolves and check on the farm. The two eagerly dashed away from escaping dish washing duties. Wilbur rolled up his sleeves and politely helped Thea clean up the table and take them to the kitchen.

Thea washed the dishes after thanking Wilbur, offering him another cup of tea. The man leaned against the nearest window seat, watching outside where he saw Tommy and Tubbo running around outside, partly doing Thea’s request while also playing. Fenrir and Lupa accompanying them.

Everything was peaceful and Wilbur didn’t know when he last felt so close to contentment. At peace. His eyes were tired and he quietly realized he wasn’t taking care of himself.

He sipped his tea when he heard a soft melody. His ears prickled at the noise, his musician side of him instantly intrigued.

He found his legs walking quietly towards the source of the music and over the corner, he saw and heard Thea singing. It wasn’t a full song nor was it perfect. It was a mixture of singing of lyrics and hums when she didn’t remember it. Her voice cracked every so often but Wilbur knew those were from the lack of warm-up.

Wilbur found himself drifting off, eyes closing to focus on the singing and then there was peace for a moment.

Thea had finished washing up and walked out of the kitchen, drying her hands as she did. She went to check on Wilbur, half-expecting him to have walked back to L’manburg with the boys.

Instead, she saw Wilbur slumped against the nearest place. She stiffened and checked on him, noticing his eyes were closed, with soft breaths rhythmically. The teacup loosely wrapped in his hands that threatened to spill if any more loose.

She stared at Wilbur, bewildered on how he was sleeping there before she thought what to do next. Waking him up was definitely out of the question, remembering how tired he was, and begun to think if she could move him.

She looked at her hands, flexing them as if it would tell her how strong she was.

A moment and two passed before she took in a deep breath and further rolled her sleeve up. She bent down and took the cup away, moving it to the side somewhere before slipping her hands under him.

She paused, readying herself, before slowly but surely lifted Wilbur. He was much, much longer then she was, so she had to balance him while her arms strained. She held him up for a moment, seeing if he would wake up but the soft snores reassured her.

Sighing in her mind, Thea walked to the stairway, just as Tommy and Tubbo had come in. They looked at her bewildered, mouths wide open with shock. She ignored them, figuring they would follow her or stay there. She didn’t care as she had bigger problems.

She reached the bedroom floor, noting the green and red beds already there with her pink one. She went to her pink bed, carefully depositing Wilbur into it and drew the blanket, tucking him. The person now occupying her bed was unaware and undisturbed. If anything, he snuggled further, sighing in content.

Thea smiled and had her hands on her hips, taking a moment to breathe. She could lift someone to bed, but barely.

She turned to the stairway to talk with Tommy and Tubbo, but saw their heads peeking out of the stairway. She rose an eyebrow but gestured to their beds, hoping they got her question.

They all nodded and quietly but quickly made their way to their beds, taking off their outer clothes and armor before slipping in. Thea hummed, checking on them if they were settled (while absentmindedly tucking them in further and patting their heads) before closing her home.

When she was sure the place was secure, her wolves followed her as she took off her armour and placed a blue bed near the others and slipped into bed. Her wolves cuddled around her as she sighed, eyes heavy with sleep.

She listened to the room, hearing Tubbo and Tommy’s breathes starting to settle and Wilbur’s soft snoring. Thea closed her eyes, feeling sleep pull her in. Before she let the darkness claim her, she spoke.

“Good night, sweet dreams.”

The boys muttered back quietly and Thea fell asleep, the darkness no longer silent but simply, quiet.

<Next Chapter>

[azuchifairy]

The Corpse Bride

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13672392/3/The-Corpse-Bride

“Big blue eyes, captivating, enticing, yet strange..” 

this chapter is dedicated to @unvalley​ 

Chapter 3: His Mother’s Ring

Gray was steaming with anger, “I can’t believe his nerve. Why can’t he ask me what I want?!”

He kicked the ground watching the stones roll over and the leaves rustle. Shoving his hands down into his pockets he continued into the forest. He tried to clear his head but it was inevitable that when he went back he was going to meet a potentially worse fate. It had finally dawned on him, how he was supposed to live his own life when he was just playing along with his father’s wishes? Gray wasn’t looking for a wife, he just wanted her to come along when it was supposed to happen. What he really wanted to pursue was his immense talent in magic, like his mother. When Ur tried to show his father Gray’s skills, he waved it off regardless of her opinion.

His fit of rage had him distracted until he noticed something about his surroundings. With nothing but the sound of the rain in his ears he looked through the trees. There was a sensation that someone was watching him, and it was completely undeniable. His shoulders tensed and he tried to look through the trees and the rain. There was nothing to catch the rain above so it was hard to make out exactly what he was seeing, but it looked like a dark shadow floating above the ground only a few feet away. It took him by surprise when it’s red eyes glowed in the coming darkness that he jumped back. When his foot landed, it crunched something instantly.

He looked down to his foot and saw a bone cracked in half that looked too large to be that of an animal. Taking his foot off and rotating to his left he saw where the bone had originated and thought for a moment that he was dreaming. Only inches away sticking out of the ground was a human skeleton with many of the bones cracked and eroding away. Gray gasped in horror and stepped back quickly, almost losing his balance.

“No way..that can’t be..” He said in disbelief. Intertwined with the sound of the rain were the cawing of crows that landed on the thicker branches of the bare trees. Their black eyes bore down into him as lightning flashed overhead. Gray shook his head vigorously, still convinced he could be dreaming, but when he looked back down to check if the skeleton was still there more had appeared.

“Gah!” He shouted with his whole body now on high alert for escaping. Being amongst the dead was not a good omen, it was one of the number one rules amongst magic users. Do not tamper with the dead. Chills ran down his spine from the rain drenching his suit and the temperature dropping. He never felt bothered by the cold, but this was different from cold.

He spun around trying to remember which way he had entered the forest, yet received no sign of where it was. All he could think of is trying to get out before he ended up like one of the skeletons in the ground. Then out of nowhere he felt a pressure on his shoulder that felt like someone had their hand there, however from his peripheral vision he saw no such thing. An eerie laugh could be heard resonating through the forest, definitely from a woman. His heart was beating loudly in his ears and his throat felt so dry. The only thing he could think of was breaking into a sprint.

He hoped that the forest would break and he could get the hell out. Of course he didn’t want to be around his parents, but he preferred them to skeletons and shadows. The rain seemed to let up slightly and Gray heaved out another breath from how hard he was running. The suit was clinging to his body making it even harder to move in that he needed to take a breather before continuing. He leaned against a tree trunk and turned around to make sure he wasn’t being followed.

Then it appeared again, the butterfly from the entrance. It floated around him leaving a trail of frost in its wake giving him the instant fact that it had to be his mother. He lifted his finger out watching its wings flap through the air towards him. The butterfly landed on him, twitching its antenna slightly when it perched comfortably.

Gray whispered to it as he panted, “C’mon mom, help me out a little, just here. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll get me out of this place.” He always believed that his mother was listening and watching for when he needed help.

Just as he was going to turn around again to check he saw something curious on the forest floor. The butterfly flew off his finger in that moment and dipped down towards the object before it fluttered away. As he bent down to get a closer look he noticed it was a ring. It had a brilliant blue gemstone and a silver band that looked very familiar. It was gorgeous and his curiosity got the better of him when he realized it looked similar to his mother’s wedding ring. Gray picked up the ring and held it up to see it better. The rain washed off any dirt that was on it, but it was in perfect condition, like time hadn’t touched it. All fear left his mind from the notion that something was connected to his mom.

Suddenly the gem on the ring began to glow and shine beams of blue light through the trees and rain. Gray cried out and dropped the ring while trying to cover his eyes from the blinding light. As he backed away he tripped over a tree root and fell backwards into the dirt. He groaned in the mudd shaking his head from the residual light that had bothered his eyes. Oddly enough the rain subsided as if someone turned it off and the clouds lifted to reveal the full moon overhead. The feeling that someone was watching him had left as well and it was replaced with a gentle presence. Gray lay there gazing up at the moon when he heard a soft sound and pressure over his heart. As he sat up further, there was a woman slowly lifting her head off his chest with groggy eyes.

She held her head for a moment, as if she was in pain and then raised her head slowly to see Gray and her eyes grew wide instantly. She took in a small gasp and looked around as Gray stared at her gazing downwards to her hands on his chest and her body placed between his legs. She appeared strange, her skin was slightly grey in color and her hair was a delicate periwinkle shade with deep blue eyes to match. She was in a white dress as well that looked a bit tattered at the end but seemed to resemble a night gown.

When she looked back to him and their eyes connected, he felt a blush on his cheeks. Not only could it have been from her chest touching his and the pressure of her body on him, but she was beautiful despite her strange appearance. She was probably the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, he couldn’t pin why he felt so breathless. Her eyes were so big and curious as she looked at him yet also bashful as if she didn’t know what to say. He was frozen in his place only holding up his body from his elbows.

“Who are you..? Where did you come from?” He asked finally.

“Juvia is...” She glanced down shyly, “you are.. Juvia’s fiancee.” She picked up her ghostly pale hand to show him the blue gemmed ring on her finger. He was certain it was his mother’s, but he had absolutely not a clue what it was doing on her.

“Fiancée?! What? Wait, I don’t even know you?” Gray exclaimed in fear noticing her inch closer. She stopped abruptly, “But our souls connected, so now we are to be connected through marriage as well.”

“But I don’t-!“

“Oh! Your ring fell off!” She said and suddenly she reached behind him to pick up his ring in her fingertips. He watched her take his hand with a sweet smile, not even knowing he had dropped the ring. Gray didn’t stop her as she slid the ring on his finger and an ethereal blue glow radiated around both their rings.

“With this ring, Juvia makes you hers..” she said in a soft tone. At first it sounded like she was joking and he was just stunned in place.

Suddenly the glowing got brighter and then stopped all together. The silver band felt like it was glued to his finger and before the panic settled in he tried to pull it off. No luck, it really was stuck on him. Gray thought he was losing his mind. He thought he was dreaming, like his father caught up to him and knocked him over the head. That’s what he was seeing, she wasn’t really there, neither were those skeletons earlier. She couldn’t be. It just had to be some kind of dream. He tried to keep himself calm, if she really was there it had to be the work of magic so magic could make it right again.

“Oh..” she said breaking him from his thoughts. She was gazing down at him thoughtfully, “Juvia spent so long in the dark.. that Juvia forgot how beautiful the moonlight is.”

The soft light on his face captured all his features, including a small scar above his brow. His dark eyes reflected the glow of the moon and doing so captured her heart entirely. She felt like all that time she had missed him so much.

“In the dark..? Hold on just wait one second. What are you talking about?! Who are you? And why is this stuck on me?!” He persisted in frustration.

She laughed and his heart skipped a beat, “Juvia told you already, silly. Oh! But what should she call you?”

“G-Gray.. just Gray is fine.” He said bashfully looking away even though she didn’t answer his other questions.

“Well, of course. ” She gushed in a dreamy voice. She noticed that he couldn’t get up because of her, “Oof, sorry, couldn’t help myself..”

As she sat up and she rested her hands on her knees and watched him get up onto his feet and brush off his now muddy suit.

“Gray-sama, you already look dressed for a wedding! So you did come for Juvia after all!” She cheered holding her face. “How soon can we get married?”

He tried his hardest not to groan while he wiped his face in exasperation. It seemed like the topic of marriage just continued to follow him everywhere and his day just got even harder. In his foul mood he would've been faster to show attitude, but he already knew he would feel bad if he snapped at her. The only thing truly protecting her was her connection to his mother. With a sigh Gray ruffled his damp hair back into its normal style, “Keep dreaming, come on get up.” He said holding his hand out to her, “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Her eyes twinkled at him as she took his hand and he helped lift her up from the ground. She stumbled forward like a fawn however, and he caught her against his chest making him blush.

“Juvia’s sorry, Gray-sama. My legs, they hurt a little..” She said with her eyes lulling slightly. Leaning her head into his chest Juvia was instantly calmed by his warmth and scent alone.

“Juvia?” He asked as she tried to push herself up. He heard her wince softly and before he could take another breath he was catching her in his arms. Her body was limp and she was excessively cold, in a way he had never felt before.

“Juvia!” Gray shouted, “Damnit, she fainted..!” Now he had an entirely other problem on his hands as he lifted her up in his arms like a bride. It was then he realized she didn’t appear to be breathing. Gray swallowed hard fearing there was much more to this than meets the eye. The entrance of the forest was suddenly visible again and the trail of the butterfly was seen leaving the trees.

***

After Gray went through the painful stealth mission of getting Juvia into his estate without anyone seeing him, he laid her in his bed. She looked so peaceful, like she was dreaming. He moved the blanket up over her and paused for a moment noticing the ring on her finger looked different from before. The gemstone no longer shimmered like it did when he first picked it up, it was still pretty nonetheless but it lacked the brilliance he remembered.

A knock on the door startled him, “Is that you young master?” the voice of a servant said.

“U-Uh, yes it’s me. I’m just about to change!” He yelled over his shoulder running towards the door before it could open. He cracked it slightly and smiled awkwardly at the servant.

“I’ll let your father know you’ve arrived safely once he returns, is there anything I can do for you?” The servant asked looking rather skeptically at Gray. He had to have noticed that he was full of mud and soaked.

He swallowed hard, “Just make sure no one comes in here for the moment. I need to be alone. That’s all.”

The servant nodded, “Whatever you wish.”

Gray closed the door as the servant walked away and sighed in relief. Leaning up against the door he checked on Juvia again to see her curled up on the bed still fast asleep. 

He knew he needed to consult his mother’s journals and some books she kept that might help him understand what Juvia was before she woke up. They were up in the attic where many of his mother’s possessions were stored. As he left his room closing the door very carefully he was greeted by the person he wanted to see the least at the moment.

“Going somewhere, Gray?” they asked with a smirk in his tone. Gray sighed heavily and turned around to see his step brother, Lyon Vastia.

“None of your business. I’m in the middle of something that I have to fix.” Gray said pointedly and noticed a pink haired girl next to Lyon who stood innocently by.

“Oh come now Gray. I bring my fiancée here for you to meet and you can’t spare a second? This is Meredy, and this is the Gray I’ve told you about.” Lyon said.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Lyon always has a lot to say about you.” Meredy giggled.

“Whatever he says isn't true. Sorry, I’m just caught up at the moment. Nice to meet you but I really have to go.” Gray responded curtly.

He pushed past both of them and headed up the stairs to the third floor of the house. It was rarely visited by anyone unless they were adding to it so Gray would be able to privately search.

Lyon and Meredy watched as he rushed off and shrugged to each other, “Gray usually likes to get himself mixed up in impossible situations.”

As they were about to pass his door they heard a soft yawn and the pair looked at each other curiously.

***

[saladejin]

Call An Uber? | 08

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Talk of insecurities, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.7k

< masterpost >

»»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««

  “You guys…”

I shook my head in disbelief, knowing exactly how the smile wouldn’t leave my face for the rest of the night. It was still slightly warm, but the boys were freshly showered and clothed in jumpers and coats to prevent sickness. I breathed in awe at the sight of them.

“You’re all absolutely amazing.” 

Taehyung, who was one of the first to reach me, couldn’t stop beaming at the shaky delivery of the words.

“Thank you! (Y/n)-ah, you’re the best!” he yelled in an excitable manner, and without warning he thrust himself aggressively into my arms. I could physically sense how much his body was trembling with unbridled happiness. That at least seemed to explain this unexpected attack.

I let out a surprised huff, but it became muffled by his thick woolly coat as he smothered me deep into the suffocating warmth. “Tae!”

I was stunned, but there was no way I wasn’t going to return the hug wholeheartedly. The other boys immediately moved to stop their bubbling bandmate and I knew Namjoon would likely be the most disgruntled. What they weren’t prepared for was me to ducking Taehyung’s head and roughening up his hair with one frisky hand.

“You’re too cute.” I pinched one of his cheeks and laughed when he puffed them out in an even cuter display of glee. His friendly and outgoing nature would surely be the death of me, but where exactly did his sexiness on stage even come from? I guessed that I’d never really seen the more earnest or mature side of the boy just yet.

“Alright, alright! Don’t kill the girl,” Yoongi piped in loudly from the back of the group, but his smile was still there, even if it was only small and hidden under a partial look of disgust. I glanced around to see the other members sharing a similar brightened mood full of accomplishment, and I couldn’t even blame them after how exhilarating the night had been as a whole.

They were certainly used to this experience, which was a similarity I couldn't share even as an ARMY. The fact that they could still be this happy about performing for their fans, even after several comebacks and widespread concerts, was just an incredible feat in itself.

“I’ve never watched you all live, only through a screen.” I stepped back from Taehyung to address them all, knowing my eyes were undoubtedly starting to water.

“It…it was just so much more than I could ever imagine. Every single one of you has such an incredible stage presence, and I could only catch glimpses the whole time! Everything I could hear, the fans chanting along, the live vocals, rapping. It was all so surreal, I was-”

I trailed off, moving my hands rapidly to try and formulate the thoughts whirring around in my head into words. Korean words at that. I knew I was launching into a full-blown rant but couldn’t bring myself to care. They needed to know these things. I mean they surely did know already, right?

Namjoon stepped forward and nodded at me with a gentle smile resting on his features. I scrutinised the look in his eyes and saw genuine, glowing happiness from within their depths. He was truly grateful for the support, and with the way he reached forward to softly give my shoulder a squeeze along with the nod, I knew he felt more than heard the point I was trying to get across.

“Aw, she’s lost for words!” Hoseok chuckled and dashed over to stand next to where Taehyung was still smiling. “Thank you (Y/n)! Guys, look at our little staff-ARMY.”

He stood behind me and took care not to let his large duffle bag knock me over. I just knew he was making little cutesy hand gestures behind my head. Seokjin grinned and made a big deal of pulling a finger heart unexpectedly from one of his pockets, dampened black hair falling into his mischievously glinting eyes. In my head, I was only relieved that he didn't blow a kiss.

Don’t fucking lie, you'd eat that shit up like a starved animal.

“Do you want me to take back what I said?” I eventually threatened and tried to whack Hoseok’s hands away, but he just continued to tease me while darting to the side. I was about to lose my composure from the sight of his facial expressions alone.

“Boys!”

At the deep and commanding voice, all of us turned to see one of the managers beckoning the group towards a line of black transport vans. I was suddenly brought back to reality, remembering that they would be travelling back separately and celebrating their own success in the dorms they called home.

I really needed to stop wanting more than I could have.

“Oh, sorry manager-nim!” Namjoon called before quickly bowing in my direction and taking his leave. Most of the others followed without question, but Jungkook turned his whole body to wave back towards my lonesome figure.

“Thanks for all your help noona!”

I smiled brightly and waved both hands, noting that some of the other members followed their maknae’s example and yelled back their own variety of appreciative phrases. My heart was full.

“Thanks Kook-ah, and all of you better get some rest!”

They began to pile into the van slowly, almost as if hesitating in their rush to leave. I was a little confused, because wouldn’t they want a well-earned session of R&R right about now? I mean, after the concert and all…

At least Yoongi was quick to ditch his bag and scramble into the vehicle to find a comfy seat. I truly did sometimes wonder if that man was my humanoid spirit animal. Another smattering of seconds passed before I noticed one member in particular lagging behind the rest, though.

Jimin had become sluggish, and it only occurred to me then how silent he’d been after the initial holler of my name. We couldn’t have that now, could we?

“Hey Jiminie, not so fast.” I jogged a few strides to catch the pale-haired boy, grasping onto the sleeve of his hoodie to stop him in his tracks. Knowing his manager wouldn’t be happy with the delay, I sought for help desperately with hawk-like eyes, and eventually caught the troubled gazes of both Taehyung and Yoongi.

I need a diversion!

Suddenly seeing their bandmate in such a state had already caused the members grave concern, but that only meant they could understand my intentions with more clarity. In a brilliant spark of a plan whispered by an ardent Seokjin, Namjoon patted at his pockets wildly and groaned before leaning forwards.

“Hyung, I think I left my phone in the dressing room.”

The manager, who had finally settled into the driver’s seat, turned off the van with a sigh and pointedly glowered at the leader. I silently blessed Namjoon and all of his clumsiness as he hurriedly rushed past back inside the venue hall, leaving me with a reassuring smile as he went. Jimin followed the rapper with curious, concerned eyes.

“What is-”

“Jimin, are you alright?” I gripped his sleeve harder, willing for his attention to be brought back my way. The younger boy looked down at the sudden pressure and then followed it upwards. I kept my voice gentle and probing, not wanting him to think I was excessively pitying him and his uncertainties.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” He smiled, but I saw past the softened exterior.

An obvious strong front, how should I go about this?

“Are you sure? You were a bit quiet. Why didn’t you leap into my arms like Tae?” I joked, and thankfully he produced a smaller but more genuine half-smirk.

“Ah, Taehyungie can be a bit much sometimes, but if you wanted a hug from me all you had to do was ask.”

I could tell there was still a few doubts sowed within his mind: maybe about his performance? It was commonplace to hear people say how the sweetly natured singer was notorious for these kinds of things. He needed attention when it came to this brand of negativity, and he could have all of mine without even asking for it. No doubt Hoseok, Tae and Kookie had been onto him already.

“In your dreams.” I laughed. “I was gonna tell you how I especially enjoyed your performance, but I don’t know anymore.”

“Really? I was off-key for like, most of the concert.” He turned his gaze downwards and I could feel the hurt curling deeply within my chest. It wasn’t even my own, but it still made a painful lump rise up into my throat. The next decision was made before I could even grasp at what my mind was conjuring.

“Hmm, can I have that hug?” I raised an eyebrow and watched as his saddened eyes began to gleam with surprise and a tinge of warmth.

“What, now?”

“Of course you numpty, I always thought you’d be the best hugger so I want to prove myself right.” I held out my straightened arms, waiting for his response but also prepared for refusal. I knew it was quite strange, and I knew that he was nervous because the people in the van were eyeing us off like helpless prey.

“What happened to ‘in your dreams’?” he snorted, but I saw his uncovered hands twitch needily.

I turned to look behind me, meeting Yoongi’s gaze within the van once again with my own and letting it sharpen in yet another signal. He instantly tapped into my brain’s wavelength and reached out to pull the members into a small huddle, effectively creating a diversion. Damn, these boys were on fire tonight with their skills in clairvoyance.

“Fine.”

I only heard the sharp breathy sigh from Jimin before suddenly, I was warm again. He was obviously smaller than Taehyung, but that only made it all the cosier. I felt as though I fit into his frame like a long-lost puzzle piece.

I barely had any time to turn back around, but it was easy to see he would’ve been too shy in any other circumstance. I brought my hands up to encircle him immediately, not wanting him to start getting cold feet.

“Jiminie, I want you to know just how much I love your vocals.” I squeezed him back, relaxing my tense body and allowing my chin to nuzzle into his shoulder. “I want you to know that to us, it doesn’t even matter that you’re not perfect, because nobody is.”

“Your singing and dancing are continuously what we want as our own version of perfection, no matter how different one performance is from the next. We know you work hard every time. Without fail. And you may hear these kinds of things already, but I just really need you to hear it right now.”

He relaxed even more into my hold, and I noticed how I’d unconsciously started rubbing one hand around in lazy circles across his back as a comforting gesture. His hands tugged into tiny fists behind my waist before he was suddenly pulling back. I thought about how cute and unnecessarily considerate it was that he didn’t even dare to touch me with his own palms. When you really thought about it, we hadn’t known each other long enough to consider ourselves as ‘close’.

“You’re sweet. Thanks for telling me that.” His voice was clipped with emotion, but his smile was the realest one I had caught a glimpse of in a while. My breath was taken away by how effortlessly an airy giggle followed in the wake of his words.

“Jimin I’m serious, stop hurting me with your self-doubt,” I wailed and playfully bumped his arm with my own. His serious expression crumbled even further as another bout of laughter gripped his body. His eyes disappearing into dark, crescent shaped moons.

“I’m sorry! Why did you hug me if I was hurting you?”

First of all, it was you who hugged me…

“Sometimes I can’t express things completely in words, and you know what they say about body language,” I murmured and saw him nod in understanding. He was flushed, and I knew the shy boy had once again finally returned.

“Ah, you’re right. Well I needed that anyway, you’re amazing (Y/n). Everyone’s always having to boost me up, I’m sorry.”

I forced myself to keep my eyes trained on his, even though intense emotions of profound gratitude and respect were swimming within them. I wouldn’t be able to call myself strong-willed if my heart couldn’t even take Park Jimin being sincere.

“Stop, before I hug you again.”

He looked like he wanted to stand and test the theory, but was interrupted by the loud commanding tone of his manager yet again. Maybe Jimin wanted to celebrate together just like I did? The idea was improbable at best, but the embers of hope were ignited and fuelled the longer I spent standing in the car-park.

Wait, how long had Namjoon even been back from finding his ‘phone’?

“Oh.” Jimin tilted his head in disappointment and sighed, “I forgot about that, are you alright to get back?”

He was suddenly concerned again, and I almost clicked my tongue at the unsurprising turn of events.

“Yes Jimin, I’ll be fine. But if you don’t rest up properly, I will hunt you down.”

“Oho, and what?” he challenged, adjusting the strap of his own duffel bag onto his shoulder. I only noticed it now for some reason. The large black obstacle must have been abandoned on the ground for most of the encounter.

“I’ll…torture you into eating a healthy meal and going to bed,” I finished with crossed arms and flashed him a defiant expression. His irises of deep mahogany sparkled with amusement, but I didn’t want to keep him occupied for too long.

“Actually, I don’t have access to the dorm. I’ll tell Seokjin-oppa to do it for me.”

He chuckled and shook his head, shuffling from foot to foot as he procrastinated on bidding his farewells. “I’m sure ‘Seokjin-oppa’ would love to have you over for dinner one night anyway.”

“Really?” I balked, honestly not expecting the somehow sarcasm-soaked response. Would I actually be able to visit their home one day? The very thought instigated feelings of excitement and scepticism so strong that I had to fan myself to get rid of the heat alighting my face.

“I would. We all would,” Jimin continued, scuffing at the ground with the toe of his shoe before smiling up at me once more. I couldn’t help but think this whole scene probably looked like an awkward confession to anyone passing by.

“Jimin-ah, we need to get going! Jin-hyung’s stomach is making noises again,” Hoseok exclaimed suddenly from the open van door, and I jolted at the sudden reminder that they were all still waiting for their blonde-haired bandmate.

“Fuck, Jimin please go before I’m the meat they decide to grill.” I grimaced and squeezed his forearm in a final act of reassurance before backing away. He nodded at me with blown out eyes, dramatics increasing tenfold, and I had to stop myself from laughing even more.

“Bye, you crazy ball of talent!”

I waved and turned to step right out of the situation, praying to dear God the manager didn’t roast the living hell out of the poor boy. It was my fault more than anyone’s, even if I did have a few helping hands.

I didn’t stick around to hear a reply and scanned the area for my own ride home. It seemed there were still a few people packing up, and I felt guilty for being lazy with most of it.

Hey, I did help in another way, I guess.

I realised with disdain that my ride with the three female crew-members was already long gone from the scene, and I had been so quickly thrust into the vehicle that I didn’t even have time to think about driving out here in my own Red. How inconvenient could you possibly get?

“I guess I’m calling an Uber.”

            Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.  

tagged: @l4life​, @joyful-jimin​, @gee-nee​, @m0chilattae​, @rossemayme​, @doilooklikeinoe​

[tragicallywicked]

jazz taking care of renesmee

I had no clue what circumstances lead me to be babysitting my adoptive niece, but there I was. Alice had told me in the morning that she would need to head to Seattle with Bella for some foreign reason. I had tried to eye Edward about it but raised his arms at me as it seemed he too was involved in the making as he was tagging along with the girls.  I didn't want to be rude and ask about Jacob and give them the impression that I didn't want to take care of Renesmee.

"He's actually going to be in a meeting with his pack." Edward read it even if I had chosen not to ask. It usually would befall on Rosalie, who would gladly take the task, but she was out hunting with Emmett and Esme. Carlisle, too, was unavailable at the hospital.

"I just don't have that much experience entertaining kids." I clarified, but Alice was already beaming. I was on board, obviously, and she knew of if ahead of everyone else. "Any suggestions?"

"She loves books, you could watch some shows with her. Just keep it on her age range." Bella suggested calmly, surprisingly happy. I wondered even further what was that all about.

Nodding convincedly, Alice tiptoed to peck my cheek. "It'll be great, Jazz." She had seen it, so I could trust her on that.

There I was, cooking Renesmee's dinner while she instructed me exactly how her mother did it for her. It always impressed me how Renesmee was attentive to her surroundings, though it felt correct given how her gift worked. She endured so much for her age, with the Volturi coming after us, but she was as brave as parents. Now Renesmee was starting to look about ten years old, and we knew soon enough her appearance would catch up to all of us and stop, but she was still just a young child. Even with all she had been through and rapid growth, I viewed her that way.

Even if I wasn't as close as Rosalie was to Renesmee, I had always been there to protect her as I would any family member. Alice hadn't been keen on her until almost Renesmee had been born because she worried for Bella. But after that and our search for Nahuel, I knew Renesmee had only brought happiness to our family.

"So, do you know why your parents and aunt ditched us?" I asked her, an eyebrow raised. Renesmee smiled shyly. Oh, she knew it too. "Come on now, Ness. Am I the only one who doesn't know?"

The room was quickly anxious, but I sent a wave of calmness toward her. She chuckled, and her hand reached out to touch my arm. I saw the image crystal clear like it was happening right in front of me.

Alice waltz to Bella, whispering something before the two came to Renesmee herself. "Sweetheart, I'll have to make a day trip with aunt Alice and dad. Do you want me to leave you at Charlie's, or can ask aunt Rose to stay here with you?"

Renesmee was silent for a moment, and then she spoke, "Can I stay with uncle Jasper?"

Both women were surprised, but Alice nodded almost instantly.

The vision disappeared as Renesmee pulled her hand away, and I frowned even further, surprisedly.

"Well, thank you, Ness," I said and she nodded. I felt the ambient getting extraordinarily calm; I could appreciate that mood.

"Aunt Rose really needed to hunt and we never hang out." She said simply, then I felt her curiosity.

"What is it that you want to ask?"

Renesmee thought for a second and then she finally spoke it out loud. "I wanted to know how did you meet aunt Alice?"

Alice and Renesmee had grown a special bond ever since we returned. Life got back to normal in our households, so I could understand why the curiosity since she knew so little about me at the end.

"She found me actually."

"Of course, she did." I laughed with her and Renesmee took a seat at the counter while I platted her food.

"I was in Philadelphia and got inside a diner to run from a storm. You know it doesn't really matter to us, but humans would find it odd, of course." Shrugging, I carried on, "she was waiting there for me, obviously. She came up to me and told me I had kept her waiting a long time."

"Sounds like aunt Alice. Were you surprised?" That was an understatement, but I nodded.

"I told her I was sorry and she took my hand. I have never felt so hopeful before that." With her plate served, I placed it in front of her, fishing the cutlery inside the drawers.

"What happened after?"

"We talked for a long time, she told me about her powers and the things she had seen. And I told her about what I had lived and the powers I had as well." I explained as she took the first few bites on her food. "I know it's not Bella's food, but that any good?"

Renesmee beamed, "It's great, thanks, uncle Jasper."

"Anytime, kiddo."

"What year did you meet?" She continued the inquiry and I smiled.

"Nineteen forty-eight," I remembered like it was yesterday, the day everything changed. "We met Carlisle, Esme and Rosalie in 1950."

"What about dad and uncle Emmett?"

"It was the same week, but a few days after. They were out hunting when we came over." It had been Alice's strategy as if to not alarm the strongest in the coven then and have us joining the family become battle. "Aunt Alice and I got married two years later."

"That's really nice. I know how much you love her." I nodded, observant kid, or maybe I was simply too obvious.

"She taught me how to be better, I was not always this nice uncle." Chuckling softly, I watched as she shook her head.

“Dad said we all have difficult times but it gets better."

I knew from Alice that Renesmee had been struggling with her hunger for human blood as of late, so perhaps one of the reasons she wanted to speak with me in the first place was that. It was well known that I was the last to join in the family's habits. Even Bella had an easier time controlling herself, the most impressive I had ever seen.

"What's bothering you, Ness?"

"I just don't know how to not think about blood sometimes." I knew what that was like. "Mom is way better at this. She just tells me to focus, to concentrate. But I can't really. Not like her."

"She's not wrong, but her skills are beyond me. I've met several newborns, none were like Bella. What I found that helped me was thinking of the moments I was something different, better. For example, when I'm with your aunt. If the thirst feels like it's on edge, I search for my happiest memories. Helps me remember what my focus is."

Renesmee thought about it quietly. I understood she was searching for a memory when the room was suddenly filled with the most utter relief and joy. I raised a brow and she held out her hand. When I took it, our family's image and the other clans at the clearing, defeating the Volturi, filled my eyes again. I gasped, smiling at the memory seen from another angle. Her eyes moving through each member of our family with cheer happiness. I saw myself by Alice smiling with relief, Emmett and Rosalie with a hold of each other, Carlisle brushing Esme's cheek, Bella and Edward involving my niece in a hug, and Jacob right there at their sight.

I was back to the current moment and the room was all filled with complete calm and comfort. "That's a great memory to access, yes," I suggested then with a nod. "Whenever you feel like you need that extra concentration, go to it. And you can always count on me to help calm you down, alright?"

"Us freaks, we have to help each other." She added with a laugh and I nodded. I had seen Edward say that more than once.

"Exactly. Now eat up so we can find a Disney movie to watch, huh?"

"Can we watch Mulan?" She beamed and I nodded starting to clear out the dishes.

"Anything you want, kiddo."

Send me a Jalice prompt

[dearchikkie]

Apple Blossoms

MARICHAT MAY 2020

Day 13: Flower Crown

A/N: woooo! had a lot of fun with this, especially the bonus at the end ;) this will prob be vv poorly edited since I chugged three glass bottles of konpeito so sugar is running through my veins :/ hope you enjoy :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Tikki? Tikki, where are you?"

Yet again, Marinette while out on a girls-day with her friends had misplaced her purse, unfortunately, containing Tikki. Tikki would have called out to her, but with Alya attached to her hip, there wasn't any room to alert for her rescue. So now, Marinette dug around the picnic area's grass in search for her. She should have been more careful; an akuma scare had threatened the girls day out, summoning Chat Noir to come investigate.

Luckily he had left quickly after finding out there was no akuma, but everyone still seemed shaken up.

"Marinette! Are you ok?" Marinette spun around, turning face to face with a certain leather-clad cat.

"Ah! Chat Noir! You're... still around?" Hastily, Marinette pushed Tikki deeper into her purse, secretly reminding herself to apologize later for the rough treatment.

"I just wanted to check on you... and everyone else! Everyone matters, of course, but you're the only one here, so I thought it was better for me to just focus on you,"

"Oh." Marinette stood stiff as Chat Noir picked up a flower crown made of dried lavender, twirling it around as he admired it.

"This is really good, Marinette, it's simple but really well-made," the noirette approached Chat, ushering him to sit down on the picnic blanket beside her.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I didn't make that. Juleka did; she's really talented when it comes to making these. We all think she learnt how to do it just to impress Rose," giggled Marinette. She reached over and held up a clumsily made flower crown of daisies, "This one is mine. I chose daisies because Juleka said they were the easiest, but I could barely get it to stay together."

"I think it looks fine,"

"Maybe, but compared to Juleka's it's pretty pathetic huh?"

Chat exchanged Juleka's flower crown for Marinette's, smiling ever-so-slightly at it. "Nah, I like yours." he placed it back down, careful not to damage it, "Aren't you a designer though? Stitching, weaving, sketching, this seems like something you'd be good at?"

"That's what I thought!" groaned Marinette, "But fabric is solid. It sits there while you tweak it; flowers are small and delicate and break with even a small amount of pressure," she grumbled.

Marinette flushed as Chat let out a bark of laughter, side-eyeing her as he did, "Sounds to me you need to be more careful."

"Ha ha. Were you really here to 'check-up' on me, or just to mock both my flower crow and designing skills?"

Chat frowned, affronted, "Neither. I like your skills in both." to prove it, Chat put Marinette's daisy flower crown on. It settled over his hair, poofing it out.

Chat grinned at the girl beside him, "Now we're both princesses.'"

Marinette tried not to, but couldn't help from smiling at the sight.

Marinette grabbed another of her flower crowns and held it up to Chat, "This one is with apple blossoms. They're my mamans favourite flowers, she used to have them in her garden when she was young and lived in China."

Chat took it in his hands and examined it, lightly touching a petal with his sharp claw, "Did you make this one?"

She shook her head, "I started it, but after a while I felt like I was ruining it, so I asked Alya to finish it for me."

After she finished, Chat quickly dropped it over Marinette's head. The noirette looked up in surprise, her flower crown lay serenely on her head.

"It suits you. Keep it on,"

"I don't want to break it," Marinette reached up to take it off, but Chat grabbed her hands, "Chat?"

"If you're going to take it off, at least take a picture with it first!" Chat pouted.

Meekly, Marinette grabbed her phone and tried to take a selfie. But no matter how she angled it, she couldn't get herself to hit the button, "I can't. It feels so... awkward just taking a picture of myself."

Chat studied her. As Marinette looked away, Chat sidled up beside her, throwing an arm over her shoulder, "Then I'll be in the picture too! Pretend you're an adoring fan, crying over the chance to take a photo with me. Then it won't be so awkward!"

"Adoring fan, huh?"

"Ignore that part."

Marinette laughed, and reached back up to take the picture. Just like before, she hesitated. But then she saw Chat grinning into the camera, flower crown displayed proudly. How could she miss the chance to capture this?

The pair smiled up at the camera, letting go of each other as they heard the click. When Marinette opened it, she couldn't help the weird sensation in her stomach as she saw Chat beaming beside her. Beside her civilian form.

A week ago if you told her she'd be sat wearing flower crowns with Chat Noir as Marinette, she'd have laughed in their face.

It didn't seem so ridiculous now. Especially when she was with him.

"See, look how pretty we are without flower crowns,"

"I hate to admit it, but my flower crown seems to suit you more than me,"

Chat smirked at her, eyes staring intently at the picture, "Guess you'll have to keep me around then."

Marinette shut off her phone, shoving it deep into her purse as she stood up. "I better get going. Alya's looking for me, and I promised I'd be quick. She thinks I'm only picking up my bag after all!" a sudden thought struck Marinette, her face drained of colour, "Everyone else! I really need to get back now. Girls day out, y'know? What am I doing here with you, I should be with them!"

"Meowch."

Her eyes widened, "Not that I don't want to be with you-- no, I love being with you!" The girl flushed, "Love's a strong word! I mean, like! I like hanging out with you! Even though this is our first time actually really talking..."

After stuttering over herself, Marinette decided it would be best to just shut her mouth from talking at all.

Chat pulled himself up, dusting off any dirt stuck to his suit. A shrill 'BEEP' sounded in the air. Marinette instantly glanced down at his ring flashing brightly at the pair, "I guess you've gotta go too,"

The blond sighed. Marinette had other friends, he shouldn't take up all her time like this, "Seems so. Well, I know you'll miss me terribly, but this at's gotta run. See ya, Princess!"

With that, Chat extended his baton, bouncing into the air. He waved and gave a sly wink, before pushing himself forward and over the rooftops of Paris.

"That stupid cat. Running around wearing flower crowns and winking at me, I seriously need to discuss with him his flirtatious tendencies," grumbled Marinette. Tikki flew back up as soon as Chat had disappeared over the horizon,

"Shouldn't you be hurrying back to you're friends?"

Marinette gasped, "Shoot! Oh god, I need to get my priorities right!" the noirette allowed Tikki to reposition herself inside her purse, then ran back to the park's entrance.

✧✬✧

"Where is she?" groaned Alya. She sat down beside Mylene, who had edged herself on the side of the road.

"I'm sure she's on her way!" piped in Rose, "Maybe she just had trouble finding her purse?"

Beside them, Alix loudly snorted. She rolled her eyes, "Yeah right. A bright pink purse on dark grass. Marinette may be clumsy, but she isn't dumb."

The girls all stayed silent. Alix was right; how long did it take to pick up a purse?

Juleka mumbled, "Maybe she bumped into someone?"

"But we were the only ones around when we left," argued Alya.

"Someone could have sill entered through the west entrance,"

She shrugged in response, "I guess so," Suddenly, their attention was diverted when a black figure swung overhead, "Isn't that Chat Noir?"

He past by them, jumping over the streets below.

"Isn't that one of our flower crowns?"

"Of course not."

"Wait, if Chat Noir is around..." the girls shared anxious looks. Unbeknownst to them, Chat wandered the streets daily. Even with the absence of an akuma, Chat loved leaping over Paris, wind blowing through his hair.

Unluckily, this wasn't known by the group. The girls hastily packed up their stuff and rushed back to their hangout spot, "Marinette! Marinette are you ok?"

Alix ran ahead, the fastest one out of the bunch. She sprinted forward, swiveling her head back to stare at the group. Abruptly, Alix was knocked backwards. Her body fell to the ground, elbows scraping against the concrete. "Hey! Watch where you're goi-"

"Marinette!" Rose jumped forward and pulled Marinette into an embrace, "We were so worried!"

"Aw, Rose... Sorry I took so long,"

"Are you ok? We saw Chat Noir so assumed the worst!" joined Alya.

Marinette stilled in Rose's arms, "I-I saw Chat Noir, so I hid! Yes! I hid because of an akuma! That's what everyone would do, right?"

Alya laughed as she flung her arm over Marinette's shoulder, "Oh, Marinette. You seem kinda shaken, let's go get some ice cream!"

The girls cheered, Marinette smiling warmly at them all, "That sounds perfect, let's go!"

Chat watched from above, blushing furiously as he held Marinette's flower crown in his hand. He had meant to go back to return it, but her friends had already found her. Seeing her so at ease, smiling brightly at them all...

His face went an even deeper shade of red.

BONUS Adrien lay in bed, a daisy flower crown held up in the light. "A closet filled with designer, yet you become obsessed with some flower crown," snickered Plagg. Adrien glared at the cat kwami, "It's not just some flower crown; Marinette made it!"

"Aww, Adrien's first girlfriend!"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Unrequited lover!"

"Plagg!" groaned Adrien. He knew Plagg was just teasing, but him talking about Marinette like this was starting to get on his nerves, "Marinette's just a friend, you know that. Besides," Adrien rolled over. He delicately placed Marinette's flower crown on his bedside table, "Marinette's great, but Ladybug is the only one for me."

Plagg snorted, "Yeah, kid. No to Marinette, yes to Ladybug."

"What? What's so funny?"

"Nothing, nothing. Now give me some cheese or go to bed!"

Adrien sighed at his troublesome kwami, but shut the lights off nonetheless.

"Goodnight Plagg."

"Night, Adrien."

As Adrien drifted to sleep, a few houses away Marinette sent her final messages of the day:

als <3 heyy mari can u send me the pics from sat?? wanna post them l8r

mariii yea sure let me find them ok they're sending wifi sucks rn so it might take a while

als <3 yess thank uu

mariii aa gtg maman forcing me to sleep byee

als <3 ok text me latrr byee

mariii: screenshot_235 screenshot_236 screenshot_237 screenshot_238 screenshot_249

als <3 wooooooo they sent aw the first ones cute i'll prob set it as my profile pic ;) MARINEETEEEEE WHY DO YOU HAVE SELFIES WITH CHAT NOIR?????? MARIENTTE REOLYY TO MEHF WTF ABWKSD FLOWWWER CROWNSs?s????????? MARI ANDWER MES YABWYGYYBHKU MARINETRETE!!! !!! ?!?!?!?!?!

[asktheghosthost]

Ghost Host/ Constance

For the first time in his afterlife, Beauregard didn’t knock before entering the attic. Actually, “entering” is too kind a word. He slammed the door open. Did he feel ashamed about it for a second? Yes, but then the righteous anger he felt came rushing back.

“Ms. Hatchaway!” he bellowed. When she didn’t instantly appear, he prowled through the attic, good eye scanning every shadow and corner. There were too many stacks and piles of junk for her to hide behind.

“Constance! Constance, I demand you come out at on—”

Shing! Thunk!

A hatchet lodged into a portrait frame, mere millimeters from his ear. He couldn’t help glancing aside at it, catching his warped reflection in the well-polished blade.

“You demand?” Her airy voice drifted over from the far side of the room, where her glowing, bright form appeared. Her white gown and veil billowed out behind her as she floated towards him. The bright blue irises of her narrowed eyes were piercing, making her gaze as sharp as her blade. Beau had to admit it was a beautiful effect… for a serial killer.

“Demand,” she repeated. “That’s cute.” She held up her perfectly manicured hand, and her hatchet dislodged and obediently flew to her palm. “You come barging into a lady’s chambers unannounced, and then have the audacity to make demands.” She pouted, her plump, dark blue lower lip out in a hurt expression. “Such a brute. I thought you were a gentleman, Beauregard.”

“I—I am,” he said in a much quieter voice. He even took half a step back, a move that only made her smirk. This really was all just a game to her, he realized. So, he set his jaw into a determined frown and stood up a little straighter. “Constance, I’m here because you physically threatened one of our mortal guests.”

She snorted. “Says who?”

“The teenager who ran out screaming about a witch cutting off his head!” He crossed his arms and leaned forward, but made sure not to get too into her personal space. “The teenager that had a black eye and blood trickling down his cheek. Scares are encouraged, but we draw a strict line at physical harm. You're well aware of that."

She scoffed. "That idiot ran into a beam." With a jerk of her head, she indicated to said support with her chin. Fingering the tip of her blade, she added, "Probably cut himself on an exposed nail." She looked up at him, smiling slyly. "Safety concerns seem like they'd be more your department, Mr. Host."

He closed his eyes and let out a long groan while massaging the bridge of his nose. "Constance..."

"What's wrong, Hosty? Not as sharp..." She whipped up her hatchet, which gave off another shing. "As you used to be?"

With a dramatic little flourish of his wrist, his own hatchet materialized. "If anyone has gotten duller over the decades, dear, it's you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure we're not overcompensating for something, Mr. Host?" She jabbed his admittedly smaller and blander blade head with hers.

He clutched it to his chest protectively, the innuendo either ignored or having gone right over his head. It was hard to tell with Beau sometimes.

"This is the blade of someone hard working," he said. "Rough from years of chopping wood... and a... very unsuccessful attempt at rope."

She rolled her eyes. Leave it to Beau to twist her jab at his manhood into an accidental commentary on classism and whining about his suicide.

"Honest, difficult work," he continued. "Which is obviously why you don't recognize it."

"Excuse me!" She held up her weapon, stopping it right against his Adam's apple. "I worked exceptionally hard to get what I have!"

He looked around the attic, completely ignoring the unwavering hatchet. "I suppose so... Configuring your alibis, the networking through social circles to find your targets, the physical dexterity to decapitate a man... The fact you weren't caught until the very end... It would be admirable if it weren't, well, so heinous. It takes incredible skills at scheming, an intellect not matched by your other murderous cohorts in the mansion."

She dropped her arm in unbridled annoyance, and her hatchet disappeared. "God, you're infuriating." She plopped onto a trunk, and he followed suite across from her, watching her quizzically.

"I get that a lot."

"I was waiting for any excuse to take a swing at you, and I... I can't. I left myself wide open for a crude retort, too." She eyed him expectantly.

He leaned forward, elbows on his skinny knees, thin, long index fingers steepled up against his pale lips. Behind his knuckles, he was smirking. "I do so love subverting expectations."

This was her fault, she thought. She started this by accusing him of not being a gentleman, and now he was going out of his way to be such. Anyone else would have seen the opportunity to snap "... on your back!" when she said she worked hard. Or at least the easy "legs wide open, maybe" which she'd practically offered him on a silver platter. She was used to those insults. She heard them daily, usually from the five wedding portraits around the attic, but sometimes from passerby in the ballroom and halls. They could fuel her anger, give her an excuse to lash out, something she'd wanted when he'd barged in.

He pulled his hands away from his mouth. "I'm sorry I accused you of hurting the boy. I should have known better."

It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on her, and she practically shivered as she straightened up. "Hm? What do you mean? Everyone knows I'm a homicidal maniac." There was acid in the words.

Chuckling, he shook his head. "Ms. Hatchaway, do you ever wonder why you're not trapped in a portrait like Jack the Ripper, or the arsonist?"

She looked around. "Too many stunning pictures of me to choose from?"

"No." His half-smile was genuine, and she found herself wondering what it looked like before the scarring on his face had weakened part of it. "You're intelligent, calculating. You know murdering for fortune is pointless now."

"No one takes a check from dead people. It's a real bummer because I want a new car. Have you seen some of the vehicles these mortals drive now?" She whistled.

A softer chuckle, this one exhaled through his nostrils. A pity laugh, she thought.

He continued. "And, deep down, I think you realized it was pointless. You're still here, stuck with money you can't spend. But at least you have a home..."

She put her hand to her chest and scoffed. "Full of complete idiots."

"Family... In a bizarre, grotesque way." He shrugged a shoulder. "And with all that in mind, I know there's a part of you, no matter how teeny tiny, that is repentant."

Unconsciously called, the hatchet handle appeared in her grasp, but it morphed back and forth between the weapon and her bridal bouquet. Keeping it on her lap, she tried to inconspicuously wring it in her hands, slowly tearing apart the flowers while simultaneously giving herself a burn on the wood. All the while, she kept steady eye contact with him, lips parted in a thin smile.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

He glanced down at the pieces of petals, his own smile unwavering. "Of course, I could always be wrong. Perhaps I try too hard to see the good in everyone." He stood up, and she worried he'd bump his head on the sloping ceiling. She almost warned him, but stopped herself. He ducked aside in time.

"Have a pleasant evening, Ms. Hatchaway." He bowed, and turned to leave, but stopped, not fully turning back. "I'm due in the library in twenty minutes. I'll be reading short stories aloud... There's plenty of room for anyone who wants to attend. I take requests." With that, he finally left.

She looked at the pile of torn stems and flowers in her lap. Maybe she would take a trip downstairs, not for any particular reason, she told herself. The attic just suddenly felt too cramped, that's all. And maybe... maybe she wanted to hear more of that silky, thoughtful voice that didn't insult and jeer her.

Plus she could probably trick him into reading something filthy out loud, and the prospect of that was hilarious enough to get her to go downstairs. It's what he deserved for trying to make her feel better about herself.