#job he can do and also how WILDLY OFF THE RAILS just for the SAKE OF WILD he does shit sometimes)

[mejomonster]

I recognize how i headcanon and intepret the ff7 games is almost Certainly not likely the intended interpretation and probably Not the biggest fan interpretation. But i dont care. Im in my own lane, in the sunshine, having a lovely time. In my lane tifa and aerith like girls and are thrilled when clouds nonbinary ass dresses particularly feminine, theyre even more thrilled to be galavanting together heroically as girlfriends, zack is bisexual (of course) and. Well sephiroth is kind of canonically (id argue) into cloud but its really messy and heavy and woulda been a lot cuter when cloud was a cadet but. Back as a cadet his idolized crush on hero sephiroth was Nothing compared to his actual Friend crush on zack fair.

And yes. As u know. Far as im concerned the game is one massive polycule

[a-yellow-book]

If you were words on a page, you’d be fine print.

In which Wen Kexing shamelessly courts Zhou Zishu with cheesy pick-up lines instead of beautiful ancient Chinese poetry, and Zishu falls for him anyway. (Alternatively, if Word of Honor was a modern romantic comedy.)

[read on ao3 instead]

Zhou Zishu was not looking forward to his closing shift at the cafe tonight. Thinking about the pile of case studies he still had to read through sent him down a spiral of sadness. It was a Saturday night, for goodness’ sake. He wasn’t gunning for a rowdy night-out at bars. All he wanted was to finish his readings and then to curl up on his cozy couch and snuggle in with his cat to watch a wuxia drama. But alas, Zishu couldn’t say no when his boss called, asking if he could cover A-Ying at the last minute because he’d gone skating and knocked his head on the metal railings, no doubt concussed.

It’s ok! It might be a slow night and I can get some readings done there, Zishu reassured himself. That, and also he needed extra money anyway. Jiuxiou’s surgery was coming up soon and they needed whatever extra funds they could get.

Pushing the cafe’s door open, Zishu greeted Heilan, who barely looked over at him. “Urg, you’re finally here. Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, I missed the bus,” Zishu said, shrugging off Heilan’s rudeness. The kid treated everyone whose parents weren’t millionaires with disdain. He was forced to get a job so his dad would let him keep his (unlimited) credit card. Something about teaching him a lesson. Zishu didn’t think it was working.

Before Zishu even managed to set his bag down in the back room and clock in, Heilan had already gathered his stuff and left. “Tsk, tsk, youths these days,” Zishu shook his head mockingly.

It was already close to five o’clock. There might be a bit of a rush as the office workers and students stop by for a quick pick-me-up after a long day. Zishu put on a new apron around his waist, washed his hands, and headed out to the front counter to take stock of the status of the store. Heilan was notorious for not caring to refill any supplies at the end of his shifts.

The cup racks were almost empty. There were random mixing utensils, cups, and blenders left unwashed, littering around the equipment. Sighing, Zishu rolled up his sleeves to get to work cleaning the mess Heilan left behind.

Just as Zishu put the last bit of clean dishes away, the door’s bell rang, signaling the entrance of the first customers since he clocked in. Turning around, drying his hands on his apron, Zishu greeted, “Welcome to Four Seasons Cafe!” And promptly stopped dead in his tracks when he finally processed what he was looking at.

The person standing in front of Zishu had to be the most stunning man he’d ever seen. His eyes sparkled with mirth, his lips quirked up in a perpetual smirk, and his jawline was as sharp as knives. And his hair! It was a beautiful silver starlight waves cascading down his shoulders. And his beautiful pastel green suit! Ahh! Realizing he was staring, Zishu awkwardly cleared his throat and asked, “What can I get for ya?”

The beautiful man kept looking at Zishu. He definitely noticed the blush that was blooming on Zishu’s cheeks. “I assume you know what’s on the menu?” Zishu was taken a bit off guard by the strange question, but before he could answer, the man continued, “Me ‘n’ u.”

For all the years he’d worked at various restaurants and coffee shops, Zishu had yet to encounter someone so... alluring (?) and shameless (!). “I’m afraid that’s not on our blackboard,” he replied after a short moment spent recovering his wits, and pointed at the said blackboard nailed on the wall behind him.

Undeterred, the stranger smiled and continued, “Oh? Well, that’s a shame - because if I were the alphabet, I would put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together when I write your menu.”

Zishu had to give him points for those cheesy lines only made funnier and cheesier with his dead-ass serious delivery. “If we ever decide to rewrite our boards, I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Zishu said, biting his lips to keep himself from smiling at the ridiculousness of the conversation.

“Hmm, hmm, good, that is reassuring to hear,” the stranger nodded thoughtfully.

“So! Is there anything on our board that I could get for ya?” Zishu asked, clapping his hands together and putting on a chirpy tone. If this guy was flirting with him, he might leave a hefty tip!

“Uhmm,” he paused, pursuing the menu with great care. “I would love to try the ‘you mocha me crazy’ with an extra espresso shot, please.”

Grabbing a cup and marker, Zishu fought against the urge to dig a hole to hide in before asking, “Alrighty! What’s your name?” Internally, he was cursing A-Ying for coming up with the outrageous and horrific punny names for their specials.

“Kexing, Wen Kexing.”

“Great! It’ll be right out!” Zishu said, scribbling the name down on the side of the cup and promptly turned around, about to get started making the drink.

“Uhm, excuse me?” Kexing, the beautiful stranger said, sounding full of suppressed laughter. “Should I pay now?”

“OH!” Zishu immediately turned back around, “Yes, right. Sorry about that!” He quickly ran up the total, accepted the money from the smiling stranger, and repeated, “Great! It’ll be right out!”

There had to be a hole large enough for him to hide in. He could not endure this embarrassment any longer.

“There’s no need to rush!” Kexing, the infuriating stranger said.

“I don’t want to...uhm... delay you...” Zishu said lamely.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

Zishu could feel his cheeks flaming up. He turned all his attention and focused on making the mocha, which he could do in his sleep, to avoid looking at the (shameless!) man. With a flick of his wrist, he drizzled the raspberry syrup around the cup, letting it drip down to make a fancy pattern before pouring in the chocolate syrup, milk, and topping it off with the espresso shots.

Giving the cup a slight shake, Zishu grabbed a bamboo straw and handed both to the (shameless!) man, who hadn’t moved an inch from his spot by the front counter. “Here you go!”

“Thank you,” he said, reaching out with both hands to grab the cup and incidentally caught Zishu’s hand as well. (Zishu was sure it was a deliberate move, considering how shameless the man was.) “I’ve told you my name, but I still don’t know yours,” he said, continuing to hold onto the cup (and Zishu’s hand).

“Oh, uhm,” Zishu wiggled his hand, successfully dislodging it. Before he could think of a fake name to give out, the cafe’s door swung open and A-Ying stepped in.

“A-Xu!” A-Ying greeted, seemingly not noticing the tension between his best friend and the customer. “I’m here!!!!!!!”

Seeing A-Ying all bandaged up standing in the cafe was enough to jerk Zishu out of the staring contest he had unwittingly been engaged in with the stranger. “What are you doing here?!”

“Hi!” A-Ying greeted the stranger, thinking he was just a normal customer. “Sorry - I wanted to come in to help you close! It’s too much work for one person.”

“But you have a concussion! You need to go rest!” Zishu grabbed A-Ying by the shoulders, turned him around and about to march him right the fuck back home.

“No, I’m fine! Just a tiny headache and a scratched forehead,” A-Ying protested.

“But---!”

“Besides, I’ve been taking so many days off recently. I need to make up for that.”

“A-Ying, you’re going to clock in and you’re going to sit in the back, resting,” Zishu declared. “Or else I’d knock you out for real.”

A-Ying raised his hands placatingly, “Ok, ok, ok!”

With A-Ying retreating to the back, Zishu let out a sigh. This kid, always trying to be helpful to others but didn’t know how to take care of himself.

“A-Xu?” It was the stranger who called out to Zishu, “Xu is a beautiful name.”

“I--uhm, thanks. It’s a nickname,” Zishu corrected.

“Oh? Then would it be ok if I call you by A-Xu?” Wen Kexing asked.

“Sure,” Zishu shrugged. He figured the man might not come back anyway.

“It was really nice to meet you, A-Xu!” He said cheerfully before leaving (finally!).

“Who was that?” A-Ying emerged from the back, tying an apron on and looking at the retreating Wen Kexing curiously.

“No one, just a customer,” Zishu might have said that a tad too quickly. Also, he was sure his cheeks were still dusting pink from all the flirting.

“Ooooohhhhh, I’m sensing something else is going on!!!” A-Ying teased. He could read his best friend as easily as an open book. “That guy is so cute! Good for you, A-Xu!”

“If you aren’t already hurt, I will kick you so hard right now,” Zishu threatened without much bite.

“Yea, yea, sureeee.”

The glare Zishu directed at A-Ying was sharp enough to cut steel. “Why did you come out here? Huh? What did I tell you?”

“A-Xu, A-Xu!! I’m just going to sit here and do nothing! Ok!” A-Ying said, waving his hands wildly at the chair propped against the back counter.

Just as Zishu was about to scold A-Ying, the door swung open, and a group of students piled in, talking loudly among themselves. Turning around to A-Ying, Zishu pointed a stern finger and said, “You will not move an inch from that chair. Got it?”

“Got it, boss!” A-Ying said, smiling widely, already thinking of how he was going to stealthily make the drinks anyway.

[newtafterdark]

Taste of Metal - Chapter 6: Stargazing into Reality

AO3 Link:  archiveofourown.org/works/26157634/chapters/65008555

Summary: What if the overwhelming VR experience Gordon went through, had a deeper purpose than just being a simple simulation & a freelance debug job for him?

But most importantly- what if Gordon Freeman listens to Metal & used to be in a band? aka. the “Metalhead Gordon AU”

- - -

If the other members of the Science Team would have been awake, they would have told Gordon to "go the fuck to sleep".

But here he was, standing on his balcony, leaning against the concrete railing and staring into the night.

It was still the same day as his and the Science Team’s arrival at his apartment. The same day of their escape from Black Mesa and… well, Gordon still didn’t know enough to be sure that that was actually all they ran from.

He didn’t want to bluntly force more information out of them, no matter how lightly most of them had seemed to have taken their new-found freedom.

People were good at not talking about things that cause them pain.

He should know, he had done it only a few hours ago.

It had been almost too easy for him to deflect the team’s worries and draw their attention towards the more positive things he took away from the entire simulation experience.

Had it been healthy for him to not admit he was hurting? No. But at the moment it seemed better to just pretend that no harm had been done. Couldn’t they have just one day of blissful ignorance of what had happened?

The comfort of the make-believe almost casual get-together with friends was nice… but it wouldn’t last long. Gordon would have to face his new reality, as would the rest of the Science Team.

He scratched at his injured arm absentmindedly. The damage had been done… and the healing process had to start eventually. Physically and mentally.

Gordon felt himself shiver slightly, despite having brought his soft blanket outside with him. Maybe it was the lingering anxiety and the remnants of adrenalin; he wasn’t sure. After all, his expertise was programming and theoretical physics - not psychology, chemistry and how these two influenced with human biology.

He was suddenly pulled out of his long-winded thoughts by the sound of the door to the balcony gently opening behind him.

Turning his head, he found Dr Coomer and Bubby joining him in staring at the night sky.

The silence that settled between them was comfortable, the draining thoughts in Gordon’s head getting replaced by a content low buzz as he slowly became more aware of the sounds around him.

Trees softly moving in the wind. The noises of cars driving by below them. A crow cawing in the distance… and the gentle sound of drizzling rain drumming on the roof above Gordon’s apartment.

“... it is… truly something else to see everything being so... real.”

Bubby was now leaning against the railing just like Gordon was, but his hands were occupied with gently tapping on the concrete, even when he didn’t take his eyes off the stars in the sky.

Dr Coomer hummed in agreement beside them, following Bubby’s gaze.

“Agreed. Neither photos nor videos did any of this justice…”

“Neither of you ever got to see the real world like this, right?”, Gordon asked.

Dr Coomer nodded.

“As I told you before, Gordon… I am the only true AI in our group of friends. Black Mesa was quite adamant of not giving me the opportunity to leave the premises. I will admit, I had seen glimpses of the real world occasionally… but those got wildly overshadowed by the amount of media I managed to get access to.”

“And I was fortunate enough to see a few things Harold got his hands on. It wasn’t much, but I’ll always treasure it.”, Bubby added, earning a soft smile from Dr Coomer.

Gordon pondered for a moment, letting their words sink in and trying to choose his words carefully-

“Well… now you two don’t have to sneak in new secret experiences for each other anymore. The world is out there for you to explore and experience! No worries of being found out anymore… and no more Black Mesa.”

“No more Black Mesa.”, Bubby agreed.

“No more Black Mesa.”, Dr Coomer echoed.

Silence spread for a while once more with the three of them just taking in the night and no pressure to keep a conversation going.

“Sleep doesn’t come as easy to you than the rest of us, does it, Gordon?”, Dr Coomer suddenly asked.

Gordon blinked at that.

“Well...”

Looking back into his apartment, he thought it over.

Despite their very energetic natures, all members of the Science Team had conked out shortly after the impromptu late-night dinner.

Even Benrey, who had claimed previously that he didn’t need any sleep, had sunken further into the bean chair and was gracing the others in the room with the softest snoring noise any of them had ever heard.

To his own surprise, Gordon found it quite calming.

Well, really, the entire current situation was.

No one had really spoken up about sleeping arrangements… but in the end, they didn’t have to. They all knew that everyone would only be able to rest if they were huddled closely together for the night’s rest, just like they did during the simulation.

It had become apparent that everyone had actually scooted even closer to each other than they ever had before, while also taking full advantage of the extra pillows, blankets and two guest mattresses on the floor that everyone had helped drag into the living room.

Dr Coomer and Bubby had been previously fast asleep on the couch, wrapped in blankets and holding onto each other. Tommy, Darnold and Sunkist were still curled up on the mattresses among pillows and blankets, with Benrey on the bean chair between them and the couch. Gman had nodded off in one of the armchairs on the other side of the table in the middle, arms crossed, head slightly leaning to the side.    

Looking over the peacefully resting forms of his friends, Gordon smiled softly.

He had the suspicion that none of them had known true rest and safety in a long time, as he recalled everyone’s words on their imprisonment in Black Mesa.

Which… truly seemed to have been just that. Imprisonment.

Gordon didn’t know enough yet to understand what that entailed… but he knew what prolonged stress and exhaustion did to people. And frankly… all of them showed clear signs of each, even if most of them were not human.

Maybe with time, they’d lessen.

Gordon closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the feeling of the blanket around him and the wind messing slightly with his long hair.

He jumped, eyes wide open, as he suddenly realized that he had absentmindedly started to scratch on his arm again. His wounded arm.

He had managed to keep his old habit of scratching at wounds under control when everyone had been awake… but now it proved to be more difficult.

Furrowing his brows, he stared at the arm - his unharmed hand running over the skin and applying pressure to soothe the strained muscles somewhat.

He hadn’t asked before, but he had a suspicion why one person from the simulation was missing.

“... Gordon?”

Gordon was startled out of his thoughts once more, blinking himself a bit more awake and focused. He was instantly faced with the worried and guilty look on Dr Coomer’s face.

“We’re going to get Forzen for taking your arm. That’s a promise.”, Bubby said with clear determination in voice, brows furrowed as he continued to stare into the night.

“So… it was Forzen who took m-my arm...”, Gordon managed to force out..

Dr Coomer gave Gordon a nod.

“He had favoured working for Black Mesa as part of their “military”, despite being in the same boat as all of us.”

Gordon remained silent, letting Dr Coomer talk, while he himself focused on listening.

“I can not hold it against him. All of us have done things we regret with the slight hope of escaping-”

“Dr Coomer, I don’t hold the clones against you-”

“You should, Gordon. No matter the reason behind my desperation... it was cruel of me. Nothing I could say validates my choice of attempting to harm you for a minuscule glimpse at freedom.”

“...”

“What I can say though wholeheartedly, is that I am sorry. You promised to get us out from the start… and I didn’t believe you. I was a fool. I think… all of us were at different times. We had never met someone who kept their selfless promises, you see...”

Dr Coomer wrung his hands in thought.

“Maybe that’s why Forzen didn’t even consider questioning harming you for Black Mesa’s sake.”

“For Black Mesa’s sake? But-”

Bubby turned his head towards them, squinting slightly-

“Didn’t you listen? The military in the simulation belonged to Black Mesa. Of course, everything the military did would be orchestrated by them. Though… I will take the blame for letting you get into harm's way like that in the first place. Not fully! But… you know...”

Gordon watched as Dr Coomer reached out to hold one of Bubby’s hands. He let out a sigh.

“I… I get it. And thank you for saying that, Bubby. That actually means a lot to me -”

Bubby nodded, but once again avoided looking at Gordon directly.

“- I guess it does all come down to you all not trusting me… which… yeah, absolutely makes sense. I don’t think I would have trusted a random programmer dude either, had I been in your situation...”

Gordon pulled his blanket tighter around himself.

“... I am just… like I said, I don’t mind all the shit I saw in the simulation that much… but what happened to my fucking arm? That- that... ”, he stammered out, feeling his grip on his stump tighten once more- “That… hurts. It terrifies me. I had a lot of injuries in my life but… this t-takes the fucking cake. E-Even if I am not in pain right now, thanks to the layer of Sweet Voice on it...”

“But my mention of sleep stands. You do need to rest regardless, Gordon. Now even more so than before”, Dr Coomer tried to reason, resting a hand on Gordon’s shoulder- “I hate to be somewhat overbearing with insisting on this but I worry about your wellbeing. We all do.”

Gordon felt Bubby’s free hand rest on his other shoulder mere seconds later.

“At least lay down and rest your fucking eyes, dingus. We’ll still be there when you wake up. And… I will not roll you off your spot like a barrel to wake you up... I promise.”, the scientist said, an awkward but apologetic look on his face.

Despite the heavy topics of the past few minutes, Gordon let out a deep chuckle.

“Don’t think I won’t ever do it again though! I will have you know that I absolutely will not resist the urge, once you’re back to your normal health levels! Everyone needs to get vibe-checked from time to time!”, Bubby stated and gave Gordon a last gentle pat on the shoulder before opening the balcony door for the three of them.

Having Bubby walk ahead to help him to his previous spot on his armchair, while Dr Coomer had a hand on Gordon’s back to keep him steady - it filled Gordon’s heart with a warm feeling of safety.

Maybe all that mattered right now, was that his friends actively tried to make things right, one small step after another... on their collective way to healing.

[fallen029]

The New Year

The floorboards creaked heavily beneath the slayer's feet and he feared, for a moment, that this might awaken nay of the strewn about members in the hall. But no. Boozed and bruised from their late into the night celebration, he didn't think any of them would be awakening until daybreak. At least. Maybe later, if Mirajane didn't force them all out so she could spend the day cleaning up the hall.

Mirajane…

He spotted each of the Thunder Legion members in the crowd and was glad, somehow, for their presence. Even if it was to their own detriment and his annoyance, the sight of them there, happy and intermingled in their own groups in the hall, rather than just alone together…

Evergreen had spent most of the night arguing with Elfman who, at the height of the party, had taken his aggravation in this out on any of those who surrounded him. It helped that, honestly, most other mages in the Fairy Tail guild liked a good quarrel or two. Especially when inebriated. And to ring in a new year at that.

Because that's what it was. The New Year. And in this new year, Freed had assured him, while he hoped to be the greatest of assistants to the man, his idol, Laxus, he also hoped that he would find a bit more to his life. Things were changing, for all of them, and he'd begun to spend more time around some of the other members. Not in the mentor way he had, the past few years, but something closer to a friend.

And he'd fallen asleep at a table of them, some new guys that Laxus didn't know too well, but Freed seemed rather intrigued by their magic, originally, but now just them. And that was good. That was great, even.

Bickslow found it much harder, however, to branch out. He'd been fine, before, when it was more of a casual thing, but now he was expected to make actual, lasting bonds with other people and he just…

Well…

Sometimes he said things that weren't exactly appreciated by other members. On purpose, a lot, but other times, even when it was, well, he just…

He had to work on controlling his tongue better. That was all. Literally, considering it frequently flopped right out of his disgusting mouth, but also figuratively, considering his mouth was partially so disgusting because of it's vile nature.

Still, he seemed to be making a lot of promise in the younger crowd. The late teen, early twenty guys seemed to think his antics were a riot and, well, if there was anything that Bickslow knew, it was how to play up to a crowd.

He'd seen the seith, the slayer had, throwing it down with some of the younger guys, as his babies cackled wildly at brawl. But it had all been in good, drunken fun. Maybe.

Honestly, with Bickslow, Laxus was never sure.

Still, he did like it a bit, to find himself not only broaching a new chapter in life, but also the three of them. He worried over them, honestly, though he'd never admit it. They meant a lot to them and, in his own transition, he just wanted to be certain that they found their own way. Even if it was separately.

Still, as Laxus' eyes traced over the horde of passed out members, it was hardly the three of them that he was really concerned about. No. He'd had more than a bit to drink that night himself and lost her, at some point. As he carefully stepped around the unconscious members, succumb to their own vices, he hoped to find her.

Mirajane.

To awaken her, of course. Because she didn't belong on a cold, hard bar floor. And she damn sure didn't belong snuggled up somewhere with one of these drunken morons. No. Absolutely not. And he knew, even as he searched, that he wouldn't find her there. Honestly, when he spotted her dorky sister over at a table, resting beside the stupid Salamander and his cat, he expected the Strauss he desired not to be far off.

But no.

She didn't seem to be around at all. The alcohol was making his head spin, honestly, the more faces he scanned and, eventually, he abandoned this approach and, after taking in a deep breath, he caught it rather easily.

Her scent.

It was imprinted on him, almost, it felt like. More than any other. And he caught it, leading not to one of the back rooms or, thankfully, out of the guildhall. No. It went up the staircase and, upon making an unstable, intoxicated trek up them, he found it to lead to none of the rooms up there either.

No.

Mirajane had gone out on the balcony, it seemed, and Laxus frowned some, tugging his fuzzy coat tighter around him as he braved the cold winter air for the woman.

She was out there, of course, as his dragon enhanced sense of smell never led him astray, but didn't seem nearly concerned with the cold. Over by the railing, she leaned against it, not even in a coat, just one of her standard dresses, which fluttered in the soft, wee hours breeze.

The woman didn't glance over her shoulder though at the sound of the slayer striding out onto the guildhall overlook as well. Not even as he approached the railing and rested his hands there, the greeting of the frost on the wood to his flesh being rewarded with a slight shiver.

"This," she remarked finally, glancing over at him, "is the new year, huh? Master?"

He regarded her with a long few stares though, ultimately, his gaze landed on her hands, which hung carefree over the railing as she leaned against it, a bottle of wine gripped rather loosely in one. While he wasn't unaccustomed to seeing the woman partake, she was rare to do so on guild grounds. Unlike the others sleeping off their alcohol downstairs, the guildhall was much more of a job site for the woman. Though there were very few people to give her much oversight (for as long as she'd had the job, it was mostly just the perverted old geezer), the woman seemed to hold herself to her own standard.

Which the man respected. Of course he did. But to see her there then, clearly having had her own fair share of that bottle in her hand, he felt something different. Glad, maybe. On her behalf.

If there was anyone who deserved a night to cut loose, it was the woman that woke up, each and every morning, before dawn, just to get their silly little hall up and running.

But she wasn't cutting loosing, was she? Just drinking, alone, in the cold.

"I'm not your master," he reminded the woman as, when she moved to raise the bottle to her already stained lips, he only reached over to snatch it. For a second, as their hands brushed, he felt warm, but it was only that second, and then he was cold once more. But with the wine. And, though he typically preferred something much harder, it was strong enough to tip him right out of buzzed and into something much deeper. After taking a long sip, he let out a short huff of a breath and remarked, "So don't call me that."

"Yet," Mira challenged and, well, it was his fault anyways.

For telling her the news.

It had been a little over a week ago, when Makarov took him aside and informed him that in the early weeks of the coming year, he intended to start the process of retiring from his position as Fairy Tail's master.

"Permanently," he added with a bit of necessity.

And Makarov swore him to secrecy, not for his own sake, but rather for Laxus'. He told him he should enjoy the holiday and the days following as, the second he found his place as Fairy Tail's new master, he would never live another carefree second.

While Laxus did agree, at least a bit, to enjoying the time he had before finally, fucking finally, finding his place, his name, where it belonged, forever etched in the guildhall he'd given up so much for (though, perhaps, taken just as much away from), there was at least one person that he wanted to share the news with. That he couldn't keep a secret from.

Not when they kept their own, together, so perfectly.

She hugged him.

When he told her.

That first time.

When Makarov and him had discussed it, only hours before, it had felt like some sort of mixture of official business and that same tense, yet familial tone the two always had between one another. It wasn't until that moment, as he waited around until after close, at the guild, when he and the woman usually shared their solitude, that it really hit him.

As her arms wrapped around his neck and she laughed joyfully into his chest, Laxus felt a burning there, beneath his skin and it was going to happen.

"You're," Mirajane whispered softly as she held tightly to him, nuzzling her head deeper into the fabric of the man's shirt, taking in every smell, every feeling of that moment as, even though it wasn't her own, she knew she'd want to live it over and over again, "going to be a great master."

He hoped so.

He'd always hoped so.

But hearing the woman assure him of this, as her head tilted back and upwards, so her bright blue eyes shined into his, for once, true, honest, happy grin, it just meant so much to him. More, even, than the concept had. Of being Master. It was his dream and that meant the world to him, having it hovering just before finish line, but man, having Mirajane, his woman, his demon, looking so...proud of him, sharing in his wealth, the same way he wanted to do hers, for every other achievement between the two of them ever, he was just so…

"It's okay, dragon," she insisted as he looked away from her then, his grin failing as his eyes felt a bit wet. "You can cry. I'll cry too! We're happy. I'm so happy. And I know that you are too."

And when she reached up, it wasn't for his cheeks, but rather to brush her thumbs beneath each of his eyes as well as press a gently kiss to the tip of her nose. When she pulled back with a giggle though, he had a harder look, one of determination.

If his demon thought he could do it, that he could be not only a master, but a good one, a great one, then fuck it, he had to be.

There was no other option.

This secret was only added to the pantheon of others the demon and dragon whispered into late nights at the bar and, when he was lucky enough, his apartment walls. Master. Master. For as good as he knew it would sound, to hear all the others in the guild refer to him in that way, there was just something about the way that the demon said it. So different, even, from how she'd said it in reference to every other one she'd served under.

There was a bit of extra veneration for Makarov and obvious respect for every other, but when she said it to Laxus, her dragon, she just got so…

It made her giddy. He could tell. The real kind, too, not the one she put on up at the bar. The one that was meant only for him. Not her siblings or friends. Just him. Laxus. Her dragon.

In the fresh, freezing air of the new year, Laxus only offered her the bottle of wine back before looking out over their city as well. Though he knew the woman found beauty in it, Magnolia cast in the pale light of the moon, he found that he rarely found it to be anywhere closer to her.

"Yet," he agreed as she only beamed at him, perhaps having had a bit too much to drink, but so what? Huh? If he had too?

It felt scandalous, somehow, being so close to one another, out there, alone, with all the others right down below them. And to be speaking on such an unofficial, but some how very official matter as well. Mirajane couldn't help it. Maybe it was the wine or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that, really, she didn't care if someone saw them or not, not really, and what could they do? What could anyone say? Now? Or ever?

Maybe they were silly. The entire time, she decided then, laughing too loud into the otherwise still night, the snowfall around them seeming to capture it. Deaden it. For some reason, this made it all the more poignant to Laxus.

What if no one cared? That they were together? Or, even, what if they did care, and the cared a lot, and they were questioned on it and teased and bothered, but in the end, it only made them stronger? And then what?

What if it was more than just a secret? And they'd wasted all this time keeping it that way for no reason other than an unfounded fear? What if they were better, not hiding themselves away together, but sharing themselves with the world and none of it mattered?

But...what if they were only a secret? And once it was shared, there was nothing left keeping the bound together? And they fell apart? Or something forced them apart? Not even necessarily mal-intent by the others, but just the natural order of things? Both had been in relationships before. And knew the course each and every one took.

Maybe, just maybe, by keeping it a secret, they saved themselves from this. And they could keep playing at, toying with, egging on one another because it was more of a game, than a relationship, and rather than being played by another, they were only playing themselves.

It was so funny, for some reason, to the woman then, as she laughed into the dead night and the man only stood beside, never one for that emotion, honestly, but watching with curiosity. He wanted to laugh too, like that, eventually. Not in anger or victory, but that full bodied laughter Mirajane had going then, that drunken laugh and unabashed glee she seemed to have.

But was it glee?

Or something far worse?

"You've drank," he whispered softly when she brought the bottle back up to her lips, hoping it could keep this feeling, this exhilaration, coursing through her body, "enough. Demon."

"Yet," was all she replied to him then. And he frowned some, but nodded.

"Yeah," he agreed once more. "Yet."

Her laughs died suddenly and, when she looked at him then, it was almost like it was another woman entirely.

"Soon," she remarked simply, "Master will tell them all. And it won't just be between us."

"Not too soon."

"But soon."

"Not yet."

"Not," she agreed as well, "yet."

She'd gone back to it, watching her beloved city in the midwinter snowfall, but Laxus had turned to look at the woman once more, studying her again as, absently, she raised the bottle to her lips, nearly missing.

"You should go inside. Soon. Demon," he told her. "It's cold."

"Not too cold."

"Extremely," he retorted, "cold."

"I don't want to go in," she said with a soft sigh and shrug. "Yet."

"Yet."

"Dragon..."

"What?"

She made a face as, after asking this, he only came closer to her, huddling an arm around her shoulders as he awkwardly tossed his too large coat over her shoulders as well and it didn't work too well, they probably were getting more heat from just being close to one another, but eventually the gesture made the woman smile once more.

"I just," Mirajane whispered into the night, "missed you. Tonight. Is all."

"I was here all night."

"So was I," she agreed. "But it's different. And you know it."

"Once I'm Master," he assured her then, "I'll be around constantly. And so will you. And I'll be here after hours every single night. Eh? And-"

"It's a new year, Master." She leaned heavily into him and, given both their inebriation, she was lucky this didn't topple them. But he held firm. "And I just… I want new things. Or for it to be new. The year. I… Laxus, I'm…" She sounded different now, the joy in being around one another, alone together, taunting right in the face of others, was being melted away by something new in her. What had drive her up there, maybe, in the dreaded frigid evening, to wait, to hope he followed. "I love you. I guess. Is what I meant."

But Laxus only frowned down at her for moment, uncertain by her words and, perhaps, clouded by his own drinking, just a tad. As Mirajane brought up the bottle again, he was reaching as well, but not for it. Down though. Further. To his pocket.

She felt a bit hazy as she watched, from around the end of a wine bottle, the man produce a tiny little black box. Choking as he set balanced it, with no fear, on the frost covered railing, Mirajane only lowered the bottle and raised her eyes, staring heavily into his with severe confusion.

"L-Laxus-"

"I bought this," he began slowly, "over a month ago. Before Gramps even told me about the dumb master shit. But I didn't know what to do with it. Or how to… I know, Mira. We've spent over two years now, playing around it. Around everything. And it would be skipping so much, to just spring this on everyone, and we shouldn't do that. We should be upfront. We should have been upfront, from the beginning, but…"

"Are you serious?" It was far from ideal, of course, as she reached out to grab her own engagement ring box, popping it open herself to stare down with glassy eyes as the diamond inside. As fresh snow tumbled down from above and fell against the gemstone, she felt her eyes water. "Laxus, what-"

"It's okay, demon," he whispered softly, just to her, always just to her as, after dropping the wine bottle, she tried to blink it back, the wetness. "To cry. I...I'll cry too."

"Because we're happy," she whispered as one of his hands came up to brush at her eyes, first, the coat tumbling off both their shoulders, but the cold not bothering them, either of them, not one bit, as just as quickly, he was moving to pluck the ring from its box.

"Are we?" he questioned, looking at her rather intently and, though she nodded, allowing him to slip the ring onto her finger, she didn't affirm this aloud.

"Not yet," she whispered though she cried, regardless and Laxus didn't, not like he said he would, but he had that grin about him once more, that happy one, as he moved to press his forehead against hers. Because there was still so much more. Than this. To do. To tell. And what if it fell apart them? Huh? Like she feared? What if, removed from the secrecy, there was nothing and...and…

"Not yet," Laxus agreed, cupping her cheeks in his hands as he stared intently down into her blue eyes and yeah, no, the fucking cityscape didn't have shit on his woman. "I have so much more, Mira, to do, and I'm going to do it. All of it. This Master stuff, it just… It took me by surprise. And you too, I know, but… We'll figure it all out, huh? Demon? Together?"

Rather than answering immediately, she buried her head into his chest. Against it, she whispered, "Always."

And for some reason, that sounded so much better when he repeated it back to her.

[josthockeythings]

A Fireside Lovesong

Erik Johnson/Sam Girard

No Warnings

Rated M for making out and discussion of sex

For the @avsfamphotochallenge winter edition!!

---------

Erik was cold. Granted he was always cold. It’s part of the job. He stands, shaking the cold off, to grab another log to put on the fire. It was getting kind of low. The wind was starting to pick up. The clouds aren’t looking too happy. Erik grabs one of the wool blankets off the side of the hut when he sits back down by the fire.

It’s a weird time in the season. Too long after Thanksgiving for the early decorators but too long before Christmas for the late ones. Business has been steadily slow for the last week or so. Poinsettias line the porch of his sale hut. Evergreen trees stand tall in their roped section. Wreaths (made by him and decorated by the local townswomen) hang on the railings. Logs with red and green plaid cushions surround the firepit Erik fashioned from an old feed bin.

It’s business enough for the dead of winter. On the weekdays anyway. On the weekends his farm is a full-on Christmas Farm. He hires a Santa. His horses pull a dazzling cart. The kids can feed his animals treats. There’s hot cocoa and apple cider and treats galore. Erik decorates his farm, so it truly is a special winter wonderland. It’s a lot of work, but it is so worth it. He enjoys every second of it, despite what the townswomen say about his attitude toward the holiday season. He genuinely enjoys it. He just never shows when he enjoys anything, let alone the holidays.

He hugs his blanket a little closer as the wind get nippier and the angry clouds get a bit closer. He might just call it a day. It really looks like those clouds could turn into a storm and he needs to get the animals in and hatches battened down on everything around the farm so nothing flies away in the storm.

He gets up, bracing himself for the winter wind. He meticulously goes through everything at the stand, getting the blankets and poinsettias inside, the trees strapped down and the logs pilled against the side of the stand. He debates not putting out the fire, because the storm is bound to drop snow, but he can’t do it, not with so much product nearby and the wind so strong. He fills a large bucket with water and dumps it on the fire.

He gets in his truck to drive the short way to his farm. He whistles for his dogs when he hops out. Four dogs come sprinting after him. “Veda, Sebastian. Go!” He whistles and the two retrievers take off after his horses. The horses know what to do, seeing Veda and Seb. They follow the dogs back to the barn without question, where Erik leaves them hay and water before shutting it tightly behind him. The wind is getting nastier every minute he spends outside. He whistles for the dogs and Veda and Seb take off after his goats and sheep. He herds the chickens into their coop and meets all four of his pooches on the porch. Gia looks up at him with mournful eyes. He scratches her head then let’s them all inside.

The dogs hop onto their respective couch spots and Erik meticulously strips his warm outerwear. He can hear the wind starting to howl outside. He doesn’t remember a big storm like this being predicted, but anything can happen in Canadian winter.

He’s in the kitchen, checking the chili and getting a beer. Then, he hears the dogs scrambling before he hears a knock at the door.

“What the hell?” Erik mutters.

He walks out and looks out the window before opening the door. Standing outside is Sam. He’s a student in town at Nipissing. He’s also the son of a rich Quebec man that Erik buys equipment from for his farm. He tries to keep their relationship as friendly as possible because he gets discounts from the guy.

He opens the door, and Sam stumbles in. “What are you doing here?” Erik asks. It’s blowing snow now, the beginning of a blizzard.

“Wanted to hang out tonight. I did not expect the storm,” Sam says between breaths and stripping his outerwear.

“Why didn’t you call?” Erik says huffing. The boy looks so cold. Did he park his fancy SUV at the stand for Christ’s sake?

“I did,” Sam says looking up at him. “No one answered.”

“You didn’t try the stand or my cell?”

Sam shakes his head. He leans back against the wall, still sitting on the bench in the entryway. “I did not think to call the stand and you never answer your cell anyway.”

Erik’s brow furrows. He doesn’t like that this kid knows him so well. “You’re here now, I guess. Let’s get you warmed up and a beer in your hand.”

Sam beams and pops up. He idly rubs the dogs’ heads as they move to the kitchen. Erik opens the fridge and hands Sam a beer. Sam thanks him with a nod of his head. Sam takes his beer to the living room to hang out with the dogs who eagerly lap up his attention. They’ve always loved him. Erik shakes his head before he thinks anything more of it.

“How’s school?” he asks, looking into the slow cooker of chili. He begins to stir it idly.

“As good as school can be,” Sam responds.

“Are you off for break yet?” Erik tastes the chili. It’s pretty good, probably ready.

“Yeah. As long as the storm passes, I will be driving home later this week,” Sam says.

Erik starts getting the bowls down from the cupboards and serving the chili. “Well good luck with that. I hope it clears up for you.

Sam appears at his side smiling. “Yes. I do too.”

“Want some chili?” Erik asks.

Sam nods and takes the bowl from Erik’s hand, balancing it and his beer between his hands. Erik sets his own fixings on the kitchen bar next to Sam. He goes into the living room to throw a log on the fire. It’s starting to really get cold inside. He can see the snow blowing outside and nothing else. They might have a full-on blizzard on their hands. He hopes Sam’s decision to come here tonight doesn’t get him stuck.

The dogs lift their heads to watch him work. Then, they whine quietly and go back to almost sleeping on the couches.

When Erik returns back to the kitchen, Sam is halfway through his bowl of chili. Erik lets himself take a moment to admire the lines of Sam’s back. He must workout or play on a school club or athletic team of some sort to be in that good of shape. “What are you studying again?” Erik asks as he sits down. He needs to distract himself. He’s been interested in this boy for as long as he’s been working with his father. Sam is a friend. His father a couple decades older than Erik, but he himself about a decade younger than Erik. He shouldn’t be interested in Sam, and he’s definitely never let either party know his feelings towards the kid. It would be wildly inappropriate, not to mention what Sam’s father might do to Erik’s’ equipment prices if he ever found out. Erik relies on their friendly relationship to keep his costs down. He’s not sure if he’d be able to keep the farm if it weren’t for Sam’s family. His farm is everything to him. It definitely means more to him that some cute kid that happens to like to hang out with Erik a lot.

Sam hums through another bite of chili before answering. “I am getting my undergraduate in biology so I can move onto Nipissing’s graduate program for Kinesiology. I want to work as an athletic trainer for a hockey team someday.”

Erik notes the slight blush on Sam’s cheeks. He doesn’t know if it’s from the cold, the wind, or the warmth of the chili, or maybe even embarrassment. Erik can’t be sure. He also unfortunately notes how good it looks sitting high on his cheeks like that. He takes a bite of chili to hide whatever might be on his own face. “That would be really cool, kid.”

Sam scowls. “You know I am not a kid, anymore. I can drink legally in the United States, and I graduate with my first degree in the spring.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Erik says around a mouthful of chili. “But you will always be the eighteen-year-old kid you were when I met you.” He jokingly bumps shoulders with Sam, but he doesn’t seem to be as amused as other times Erik has made the joke.

Erik goes back to eating his chili, a tense silence falling over the two of them. The wind is still howling. It’s louder than the crackling of the fire in the living room. Sam stands up, bowl empty and rounds the counter to get some more.

“You still put down food like a growing kid,” Erik says, desperate to start the conversation again. Feelings aside, he does genuinely like Sam as a friend, even if it is a little weird that a guy in his young twenties hangs out with a farmer in his thirties.

Sam rolls his eyes, but a grin is pulling at his lips.

“Maybe next summer, I can convince your dad to let you stay here and learn what real work looks like.”

Erik is not expecting the look of sheer excitement on Sam’s face when he turns around from spooning more chili into his bowl. “Really?” Sam asks. “You’d do that?”

Erik doesn’t hesitate before he nods. “Absolutely.” He regrets it almost immediately. Having Sam in his house with just the prospect of it turning into multiple days because of this storm is scaring him. He shouldn’t be offering Sam a summer job, but at the same time, he’ll need the extra hands this summer. He hasn’t been getting many calls about people needing work this year. There’s still time of course, but Erik is beginning to worry a little. And extra hands are always welcome on a farm.

Sam sits down next to Erik with a sunny glow. He bumps his shoulder against Erik’s before he takes his first bite of his second bowl of chili. There are so many reasons Erik shouldn’t be into Sam, and yet here he is, with butterflies in his stomach.

They eat the rest of their meal in silence. After Erik gets up and puts his bowl in the sink, he gets the dogs’ food out of the cupboard. They bound happily over to him and wait patiently for him to finish serving their meal before starting.

“You have trained them well,” Sam says, lingering in the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Erik says. He tries not to let the confusion show in his voice. Sam has been over several times, a few times for dinner. He’s seen the dogs in action. Yet, this is the first time he’s ever commented on it.

Before Sam can respond the house is shaken with another gust of wind. They both look to the window. Erik doesn’t even want to guess how much snow is coming down. It looks like Sam will be staying the night, at least. They both startle when Sam’s phone starts to ring in his pocket. Erik ducks his head and moves to the sink to wash the dishes. Sam picks up the call and walks out into the living room.

Erik hates himself a little for listening.

“Salut, Papa.”

Pause.

“Oui. Je vais bien. Je suis chez Erik.”

Erik’s heart jumps at his name. He doesn’t really understand anything else. His French is terrible. Thankfully, Sam’s dad does business with him in English.

“Ça ne va pas bien.”

Pause.

“Vraiment?”

Pause.

“Oui, oui Papa. Je ferai attention.”

Pause.

“J’tamie Papa.”

Erik busies himself with the dishes when he hears Sam hang up.

“My dad is worried,” Sam says. He looks a little scared himself.

“What’s up?” Erik asks.

“He saw the weather report. Apparently, the blizzard is not expected to stop for another day at least.”

Erik swallows to cover the way his heart is jumping at the thought of spending several days with Sam. It’s stupid. He knows it. “So, you’re stuck here?”

Sam nods. “Is that… okay?”

Erik grins. “Of course. Come on. Let’s get the guest bedroom set up.”

Sam grins back at Erik. It almost looks sad, but Erik has no idea why. He grabs some sheets from the linens closet on the way to the bedroom and chucks them at Sam.

“Hey!” he complains, head peeking out from behind the pile.

Erik giggles and pushes into the guest bedroom. It starts fairly casual, pulling sheets down over the bed. Then, Sam hits Erik with a pillow when he wasn’t looking. Erik turns sharply to stare at the giggling Sam. He glares and grabs the other pillow from the bed. He launches over the bed and after Sammy. Sam yelps and runs around the bed looking for an escape. Erik smiles widely when he lands a hit on Sam’s chest. Sam stumbles backwards and swings back. Erik can’t help the bubble of joy building in his chest as the two whack themselves with pillows. It’s probably the most fun he’s had with someone in years. This isn’t “going out with the guys for beer” this is intimate fun you have with someone very close to you.

Erik has tackled Sam to ground and has him pinned while he tickles him when the power goes out. Everything stops. All Erik can hear is their breathing and the dogs’ whines from the living room.

“Shit,” Erik sighs when it’s clear that it’s not going to turn back on.

“Erik? Is everything alright?” Sam asks. The fear is clear in his voice. This isn’t just a snowy night. This isn’t just a blizzard. This is a power outage in the middle of a blizzard. This is a “gonna be stuck here for a while” blizzard. Erik hates the way Sam is trembling beneath him.

“Yeah. I think the snow took out the power line though.” Erik sits up and shifts off of Sam.

“What does that mean?” Sam asks. He leans into Erik’s shoulder, still shaking a little.

“It means we’re going to get the fire going as big as possible, first. Then, we’re gonna find all the blankets from around the house and get them into the living room. “We’re gonna be fine, Sammy, okay?”

Sam nods. Erik helps Sam stand and they go to the living room. The dogs are standing on the couches whimpering their direction as they walk in. The glow of the fire is all the light in the room. Sam rubs the dogs’ heads while Erik goes to grab more wood. He curses, remembering most of it is on the porch.

“Sam, there are flashlights in a drawer in the kitchen. Grab one and start gathering the blankets. I’ve gotta get some wood from outside. Won’t take too long.”

“You will be careful, yes?” Sam asks.

Erik nods. “Course kid. Now go get those blankets. We don’t wanna freeze tonight.” He gives Sam a wink before turning to get his winter clothes on.

He tromps outside in several layers. It takes a couple trips to get all the wood off the porch and into the house. Looking back, he’s probably gone a bit overboard. They’ll get the power up sometime tomorrow. He’s sure of it. Besides, the fireplace was built to heat the house if he needed it too. They’ll be fine.

He starts to stack some larger logs on the fire before stacking the excess against the wall in the entryway. Sam comes back to the living room with a pile of blankets taller than he is. A couple drag behind him. He looks like a child getting ready to make a fort. Erik kind of feels like that.

Erik smiles at him when Sam dumps the blankets in the middle of the room. They pull the cushions off the couch and with the blankets fashion an extremely oversized bed on the floor. The dogs take spots on the side and near the bottom. It looks like the coziest place on Earth and Erik wouldn’t want to be anywhere else tonight.

“Need sleep clothes?” he asks, knowing the answer. Sam didn’t expect to spend the night.

Sam nods, and they head back to Erik’s room. He hands Sam some sweats and an old, soft t-shirt. He feels tingles in his fingers where they brush Sam’s as he takes the clothes. This is stupid. He feels like a schoolgirl with a crush. Maybe, after tonight, things will settle. He’ll have spent a night with the kid, and that’ll help him get his feelings under control, at least a little. He changes quickly, while Sam changes in Erik’s bathroom. He grabs and few pillows from his bed for them to sleep with.

He’s in the living room when Sam comes out changed. Erik’s shirt is a little oversized and the sweats are much too long. His stomach swoops at the sight. He chastises himself, then let’s himself look his fill. Sam collapses on their makeshift bed in a heap.

“You are sure we are going to be okay, yes?” Sam asks.

Erik hooks his arm around Sam’s neck and pulls him in for a quick nougie. “Yes, dork. We’ll be fine. My house is equipped for something like this.” Even if I’m not, Erik finishes in his head. He will never be ready for the Sam sized gap in his heart.

Sam squirms out of Erik’s grip. “Alright. Alright.” He pats Beau who’s laying next to him. The lab shifts so his head is on Sam’s lap.

“So, is there anyone at school?” Erik asks. He grabs the pillows and starts shifting them underneath him. He hands a few to Sam.

“Anyone at school who what?” Sam asks. He’s not looking at Erik, giving all his attention to Beau who is glowing under the attention.

“Who you’re, well, you know…” Erik doesn’t really know how to ask what he’s asking. He mostly just wants to know there’s someone else in Sam’s life, to keep him out of it himself.

Sam turns to him a little confused. “Like, a girlfriend or boyfriend?”

Erik nods, turning his own attention to Veda.

“No. There’s not. Why?”

Erik doesn’t want to look at Sam’s face. “I was just wondering that’s all.”

“Erik.”

Erik swallows. Sam’s voice is soft, and it makes Erik feel like he’s about to be let down. But, when he turns to face Sam, his face is glowing, although it might be the firelight. He’s smiling brightly, and Beau is whining for lack of attention.

“Was it because, well, you might like me?” Sam asks, his voice full of hope.

Erik doesn’t know what to say to that. Thankfully, his face does all the talking for him, because Sam surges forward and presses his lips to Erik’s. Erik has never had a better kiss. He really hasn’t. He’s not sure he can describe it. It’s like fireworks and the warmth of being home and the happiness of Christmas all in one. It feels like Erik could burst. He pulls Sam in and kisses him like nothing in the world is wrong. Because, when you break it down, it really isn’t. He’s got all he’s ever wanted in this room: a roaring fire, his dogs, and someone he loves. He does, love Sam. It’s hard not to love the kid. And Erik wants his face around all the time now.

Sam’s hand slips lower, and Erik stops him, because as much as he wants to, getting it on right now would be a very, very bad idea. Sam whines questioningly into the kiss that Erik carefully breaks.

“I don’t think either one of us wants to clean up after. Let’s just do this tonight.”

Sam smiles and goes right back to kissing Erik. If nothing else, it helps keep them warm.

As they’re laying down for bed, Erik turns to Sam. “Just so we’re on the same page. This isn’t like a one time deal for me, Sammy. I can’t… I don’t think I’m the just-dating type either… I…” Sam cuts him off before he can continue.

“I know, mon chum. I know what I signed up for.” He kisses Erik again, softer. It’s the kind of kiss that says “I know and I want you too.” Erik sighs happily.

Later in the night, Erik wakes to Sam curling into his chest, then suddenly there’s a sharp knee in his ribs.

He groans. “Ow, fuck. Sam, you kneed me.”

Sam hums. “Yes, mon chum, I do need you.”

Erik’s heart soars. He wraps himself around Sam, gives him a kiss on the forehead and goes back to sleep.

[killadraco]

Strip for me

—in which you get paid to strip at Draco Malfoy’s birthday party.

warnings; smut, cussing, freaky content

y/l/n=your last name. y/f/n=your friends name

My hands glided down the pages of the book that i was highly not interested in, i was basically flipping through the pages without actually reading them, but i also couldn’t let Professor Snape catch me not giving two shits about his teaching. “Maybe you could help Filtch instead of pretending to read the book, y/l/n” I looked up to Snape who looked very unpleased with me, figures. I could feel myself groan silently and rolled my eyes as i actually went down to read the boring book. “How much pounds would i have to give you, for you to come to Draco’s party?”

I turned my head sharply, seeing Blaise right in my face. I furrowed my eyebrows deeply and let a chuckle out—with being a slytherin, i was Draco’s friend. We weren’t close but we occasionally talked or—quite honestly he occasionally teased me about anything wrong with my body or face that day. “Um...none?” i said with a small giggle, lifting the book up so Snape couldn’t see the conversation going on. “I saw how you could dance at the Slytherin party, how much would i need to pay you to dance at Draco’s party?” he asked again. My body stiffened, no one had ever asked me such a thing. “Dance? like slow dance?” i questioned with a turn of my entire body, now completely facing him. He was hunched over his desk and i could see crabbe and Goyle snickering from behind him. For a moment i thought that it must have been a dumb joke to make me flustered, but Blaise looked down at me seriously—never taking his eyes off mine. “slow dance...bloody hell no of course not” Blaise snapped unimpressed. “He needs a real dancer like, a strip dance”

My eyes widened at the words that came from Blaise’ lips. “Excuse me? you want me to...strip?” I asked nervously, making Blaise roll his eyes and nod annoyingly. “First of all—“ “save it. Meet us in the Slytherin common room tonight” I was absolutely in shock, not only had Blaise asked me to strip for Malfoy, he had cut me off. I swear i didn’t belong in Slytherin. “Don’t forget you’ll have a test, so don’t be dumb and do your studies”

I was pressed up against a wall, just outside of the Defense Against The Dark Arts class. I was quite utterly upset with the fact that i was being ‘forced’ into dancing for Draco. I huffed quietly as my best friend finally made her way out of the class room. “There you are! I’ve been waiting for like 20 minutes” I groaned, walking besides her. She paid no attention to me whatsoever, her eyes stayed on the students in front of her. “Helloooo?” I waved my hand in front of her too gorgeous face. “Y/f/n”

She let a huff out and turned her body towards me. She was angry, her eyes looked as if she was going to kill me with them. Her hands were locked on her books, causing her knuckles to turn white. “Whoa, what happened to yo—“ “are you bloody mad?” she practically screamed, clenching her jaw with each word. “I hope not, why would i be mad?” I joked, knowing it wasn’t the time. It was a bad habit i had, yeah yeah. “Why would you strip at Draco Malfoy’s party? you’ll literally be a play toy for each of the boys there”. When the words strip flew from her mouth, my heart started to beat faster, my lips curved into a straight line and my own knuckles were slowly turning white. “I am not! Who told you i was?” I asked angrily, making other kids looks back to us as they passed through the halls. “Oh come on! everyone knows, ‘Y/n y/l/n is stripping at Draco’s party!’”

“I’m not alright? i was asked but i’m not, if you’ll excuse me—“ I exhaled harshly, now fuming from the fact that everyone thought i was a deadbeat hooker who dances for rich-pureblood boys for money. I had angrily made my way to the Slytherin Common Room where Blaise, Goyle, Pansy and Draco sat lounging on the couch. “What the hell, blaise!?” I stomped in. “Ahh, look Draco, It’s your stripper!” He announced happily. “Really? her? i guess it’s better than nothing” Draco shrugged. I felt like everything everyone said made me fume more and more.

I coughed back to yelling and took a long deep breath. “I am not stripping at anyone’s party. Why does everyone think i am?” I asked, which Pansy was not impressed with. “Stripping? why would Draco need a stripper? i could’ve—“

“Because you are? obviously” Goyle cut in, looking at me as if i were absolutely dumb. “No i am no—!” “Oh for Merlin’s sake” Draco started, rolling his eyes and looking over to me. “Blaise will pay you and—“ he paused, which i’m not going to lie, scared me. “I’ll stop teasing you”

I quite honestly didn’t know what to say. If i danced at his party, for just one night. All the teasing and Bullying would stop, but i’d also be know as The Girl Who Stripped. It wasn’t the most comforting feeling. Draco huffed quietly and stood up, “fine. and—“ Draco took a moment to try and think of another way to pull me into the Stripping Case. “I’ll have my father help your parents—who unfortunately are struggling with... what is it?” He asked sarcastically. “Everything?”. This was teasing Draco, he constantly made fun of my life and how my parents were poor unlike his own. At this point it could have been a win win situation, My family could get help and Draco could get a hard on—pfft.

“F-Fine. I’ll do it”

My heart was racing, i felt like my boobs were pushed up to my eyelids and my hands were shaky. “Maybe you shouldn’t have said yes”. Y/F/N had been very unfriendly about all this, she constantly reminded me that i would be dancing on Draco Malfoy’s lap tonight. “So you’ve said, Mr.Malfoy has loads of money and—“ “yes i know, you’re family needs help”. I sighed lightly as i brushed down the black lingerie set i was wearing under a very long black coat. “Well, i have to go before Blaise comes and drags me there” I mumbled, looking back to Y/f/n who looked very upset. I let another small sigh out and went off to the Astronomy Tower.

I could hear loud music blasting from the top of the stairs, i was almost there and my heart was racing wildly. “Draco! Draco! Draco!” other Slytherin’s chanted, along with laughing and cheering. “Just one night. You can do this”. I slowly pulled off the jacket and draped it out the stair well before continuing up the large stairs.

Draco laughed along as many boy Slytherin’s lifted him up into the air. Draco thought it was amazing how they snuck so many people up here and played such loud music without one Professor finding them. “Draco! Draco! Draco!” they chanted and cheered. All Draco could do was laugh and enjoy the party going on. The chanting slowly stopped and Draco was brought down to his feet, still laughing at the chanting and unexpected lifting-into-the-air. “Draco! you gotta see this” Blaise quickly grabbed ahold of Draco’s arm and dragged him to the stairs of the Tower. “Oh. My. God”

“Oh. My. God” I watched as Draco and many other body crowed around the stairs, all looking my body up and down. I had a few curves that lined my body perfectly, but i felt utterly insecure with more than 7 boys staring at me. “Well? Do your job, put Draco in his place” laughed Blaise, along with many other students. I had only danced once at the Welcome back party for the Slytherin’s in our 4th year, Y/F/N and i had only been joking, but apparently it caught Blaise’ eyes.

I gulped back as a hand wrapped around my waist, Draco slightly pulled me into the Tower before he backed up into a chair. “Yeah? put me in my place” he said, inches away from my face. He pulled himself into the chair behind him and sat very chilled, his legs were spread apart and far out , he was slouched down, and his arms were crossed over his chest. He was sneaky enough for me to catch the small button of his pants, unbuttoned. I had a jolt of confidence, my body stoped being tense and i was now pulling my hair down. I didn’t know where it came from, but i felt like i wanted to dance for him, for some odd reason.

Draco licked his lips as a few whistle’s and cheers were heard from behind me. The music became louder and was switched from party music to seducing music. I flipped my hair as i leaned down onto Draco’s knees, he was so relaxed, it gave me chills. His eyes stayed on might as i flipped my body over, my arse now close to the bulge peeking out from his suit pants. I danced along his lap, making sure to touch his body and tease him. I had expected Draco to do something like touch me or pull me into his lap, but all he did was stare. Stare straight into my eyes and feed off of the tension between the two of us. More cheers went through the air, my body uncontrollably dancing around Draco’s face and lap, occasionally rubbing myself onto his bulge—which i couldn’t tell if it was for my pleasure or him pleasure. I let my arms fly up into the air, making my boobs stretch out, every boy now intrigued by my body. I could feel Draco’s hands slither up my chest, squeezing my boobs as he got to them. For a moment i swear i could feel his lower body buck up into me, causing me to throw my head back in pleasure. I tried hard not to show that i was enjoying the feeling of Draco against me, but it wasn’t easy with him constantly trying to make me wet. “Yeah. Put my in my place. Please, a little girl like you doesn’t get to put me in my place” He whispered into my ear, sending chills through my whole body.

“Leave, would y’all?” I could hear many boys ‘oouuu’ and ‘ahhh’ as they left the tower. “Have fun” Blaise coughed out as he left down the stairs. It was just Draco and i, our bodies still collided together and his dick still rubbing against my now, wet, clit. “What made you think, you would come up here” As he talked he moved, standing up from the chair with a large piece of my hair wrapped in his hand. He slowly moved me to the outside of the tower, leaning over the rail and looking down to the extremely large drop down. “And put me in my place, rub your pretty little pussy all over me” he continued to move as he talked, now moving his pants down, and with that i could see his utterly large cock in place. “And me not make you cum? now why would that be?”

I could feel his hands move down to my ass, pulling my pants down in a rush. “See, bad girls like you don’t deserve to dominate. They only need to be punished, hurt...” He paused and pulled yet another chunk of hair back, making my whole back lean up against his stomach. “Touched, teased and fucked” he spat. He didn’t waste another second before he jammed into me, making my knees fall weakly. “Bad little girl” he groaned as his body started to thrust into me, making the wetness of my pussy spread around his dick. He had just started and i felt as if it was already too much for me. His groans went into my ears and my moans went into the air. “D-Draco” i moaned out, reaching my hand back for some sort of support. He was pounding me hard now and i could feel my body shake with pleasure and pain. “Didn’t mommy ever tell you it’s rude to tease?” He moaned, pushing my body back down against the rails. He still had my hair wrapped into his beautiful hand as he thrusted into my pussy, which went getting more and more wet by the second. I let more moans go into the air, my body shaking and my pussy dripping. “Now, what do you say?” he slowed down, making me whine lightly. I wanted more, i wanted to feel his cum spread throughout my body. “P-Please” i whined. “And?”

“T-Thank you—“

He immediately continued at his fast pace, groaning with every thrust. His large hand wrapped around my throat and squeezed hard. “Do a little something for me” he groaned, and i knew he was close to cumming. I wanted it. Badly. “Now” he spat into my ear. I forced myself to cum, letting it move to the bottom of his dick as his thrusts slowed down. His groan was so loud, i could have sworn everyone in Hogwarts heard. His thrust finally came to a stop and both of our breaths were harsh. He spun me around to face him, out faces inches apart and his hand still cupped at my throat. “Tease me again. And you’ll be begging me to stop, are we clear?” he asked, clutching my throat harder. “Yes. Y-Yes” i stuttered.

“Now be a good little girl and clean up your mess”

Hehe okay hi af. This took longer than intended but, it’s okay. It isn’t as good as i hoped seeing as i was very tired when i wrote it but! it’s not edited yet so! if there are any spelling errors please let me know!

[readbookywooks]

‘Gods, that was awful,’ he said. ‘Mind you, so is this.’

Crew members scurried across the deck, cutlasses in hand. Conina tapped Rincewind on the shoulder.

‘They’ll try to take us alive,’ she said.

‘Oh,’ said Rincewind weakly. ‘Good.’

Then he remembered something else about Klatchian slavers, and his throat went dry.

‘You’ll - you’ll be the one they’ll really be after,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard about what they do-’

‘Should I know?’ said Conina. To Rincewind’s horror she didn’t appear to have found a weapon.

‘They’ll throw you in a seraglio!’

She shrugged. ‘Could be worse.’

‘But it’s got all these spikes and when they shut the door-’ hazarded Rincewind. The canoes were close enough now to see the determined expressions of the rowers.

‘That’s not a seraglio. That’s an Iron Maiden. Don’t you know what a seraglio is?’

‘Um …’

She told him. He went crimson.

‘Anyway, they’ll have to capture me first,’ said Conina primly. ‘It’s you who should be worrying.’

‘Why me?’

‘You’re the only other one who’s wearing a dress.’

Rincewind bridled. ‘It’s a robe-’

‘Robe, dress. You better hope they know the difference.’

A hand like a bunch of bananas with rings on grabbed Rincewind’s shoulder and spun him around. The captain, a Hublander built on generous bear-like lines, beamed at him through a mass of facial hair.

‘Hah!’ he said. ‘They know not that we aboard a wizard have! To create in their bellies the burning green fire! Hah?’

The dark forests of his eyebrows wrinkled as it became apparent that Rincewind wasn’t immediately ready to hurl vengeful magic at the invaders.

‘Hah?’ he insisted, making a mere single syllable do the work of a whole string of blood-congealing threats.

‘Yes, well, I’m just - I’m just girding my loins,’ said Rincewind. ‘hat’s what I’m doing. Girding them. Green fire, you want?’

‘Also to make hot lead run in their bones,’ said the captain. ‘Also their skins to blister and living scorpions without mercy to eat their brains from inside, and-’

The leading canoe came alongside and a couple of grapnels thudded into the rail. As the first of the savers appeared the captain hurried away, drawing his sword. He stopped for a moment and turned to Rincewind.

‘You gird quickly,’ he said. ‘Or no loins. Hah?’

Rincewind turned to Conina, who was leaning on the rail examining her fingernails.

‘You’d better get on with it,’ she said. ‘That’s fifty green fires and hot leads to go, with a side order for blisters and scorpions. Hold the mercy.’

‘This sort of thing is always happening to me,’ he moaned.

He peered over the rail to what he thought of as the main floor of the boat. The invaders were winning by sheer weight of numbers, using nets and ropes to tangle the struggling crew. They worked in absolute silence, clubbing and dodging, avoiding the use of swords wherever possible.

‘Musn’t damage the merchandise,’ said Conina. Rincewind watched in horror as the captain went down under a press of dark shapes, screaming, ‘Green fire! Green fire!’

Rincewind backed away. He wasn’t any good at magic, but he’d had a hundred per cent success at staying alive up to now and didn’t want to spoil the record. All he needed to do was to learn how to swim in the time it took to dive into the sea. It was worth a try.

‘What are you waiting for? Let’s go while they’re occupied,’ he said to Conina.

‘I need a sword,’ she said.

‘You’ll be spoilt for choice in a minute.’

‘One will be enough.’

Rincewind kicked the Luggage.

‘Come on,’ he snarled. ‘You’ve got a lot of floating to do.’

The Luggage extended its little legs with exaggerated nonchalance, turned slowly, and settled down beside the girl.

‘Traitor,’ said Rincewind to its hinges.

The battle already seemed to be over. Five of the raiders stalked up the ladder to the afterdeck, leaving most of their colleagues to round up the defeated crew below. The leader pulled down his mask and leered briefly and swarthily at Conina; and then he turned and leered for a slightly longer period at Rincewind.

‘This is a robe,’ said Rincewind quickly. ‘And you’d better watch out, because I’m a wizard.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Lay a finger on me, and you’ll make me wish you hadn’t. I warn you.’

A wizard? Wizards don’t make good strong slaves,’ mused the leader.

‘Absolutely right,’ said Rincewind. ‘So if you’ll just see your way clear to letting me go-’

The leader turned back to Conina, and signalled to one of his companions. He jerked a tattooed thumb towards Rincewind.

‘Do not kill him too quickly. In fact-’ he paused, and treated Rincewind to a smile full of teeth. ‘Maybe … yes. And why not? Can you sing, wizard?’

‘I might be able to,’ said Rincewind, cautiously. Why?’

‘You could be just the man the Seriph needs for a job in the harem.’ A couple of slavers sniggered.

‘It could be a unique opportunity,’ the leader went on, encouraged by this audience appreciation. There was more broad-minded approval from behind him.

Rincewind backed away. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, ‘thanks all the same. I’m not cut out for that kind of thing.’

‘Oh, but you could be,’ said the leader, his eyes bright. ‘You could be.’

‘Oh, for goodness sake,’ muttered Conina. She glanced at the men on either side of her, and then her hands moved. The one stabbed with the scissors was possibly better off than the one she raked with the comb, given the kind of mess a steel comb can make of a face. Then she reached down, snatched up a sword dropped by one of the stricken men, and lunged at the other two.

The leader turned at the screams, and saw the Luggage behind him with its lid open. And then Rincewind cannoned into the back of him, pitching him forward into whatever oblivion lay in the multidimensional depths of the chest.

There was the start of a bellow, abruptly cut off.

Then there was a click like the shooting of the bolt on the gates of Hell.

Rincewind backed away, trembling. :A unique opportunity,’ he muttered under his breath, having just got the reference.

At least he had a unique opportunity to watch Conina fight. Not many men ever got to see it twice.

Her opponents started off grinning at the temerity of a slight young girl in attacking them, and then rapidly passed through various stages of puzzlement, doubt, concern and abject gibbering terror as they apparently became the centre of a flashing, tightening circle of steel.

She disposed of the last of the leader’s bodyguard with a couple of thrusts that made Rincewind’s eyes water and, with a sigh, vaulted the rail on the main deck. To Rincewind’s annoyance the Luggage barrelled after her, cushioning its fall by dropping heavily on to a slaver, and adding to the sudden panic of the invaders because, while it was bad enough to be attacked with deadly and ferocious accuracy by a rather pretty girl in a white dress with flowers on it, it was even worse for the male ego to be tripped up and bitten by a travel accessory; it was pretty bad for all the rest of the male, too.

Rincewind peered over the railing.

‘Showoff,’ he muttered.

A throwing knife clipped the wood near his chin and ricocheted past his ear. He raised his hand to the sudden stinging pain, and stared at in in horror before gently passing out. It wasn’t blood in general he couldn’t stand the sight of, it was just his blood in particular that was so upsetting.

The market in Sator Square, the wide expanse of cobbles outside the black gates of the University, was in full cry.

It was said that everything in Ankh-Morpork was for sale except for the beer and the women, both of which one merely hired. And most of the merchandise was available in Sator market, which over the years had grown, stall by stall, until the newcomers were up against the ancient stones of the University itself; in fact they made a handy display area for bolts of cloth and racks of charms.

No-one noticed the gates swing back. But a silence rolled out of the University, spreading out across the noisy, crowded square like the first fresh wavelets of the tide trickling over a brackish swamp. In fact it wasn’t true silence at all, but a great roar of anti-noise. Silence isn’t the opposite of sound, it is merely its absence. But this was the sound that lies on the far side of silence, anti-noise, its shadowy decibels throttling the market cries like a fall of velvet.

The crowds stared around wildly, mouthing like goldfish and with about as much effect. All heads turned towards the gates.

Something else was flowing out besides that cacophony of hush. The stalls nearest the empty gateway began to grind across the cobbles, shedding merchandise. Their owners dived out of the way as the stalls hit the row behind them and scraped relentlessly onwards, piling up until a wide avenue of clean, empty stones stretched the whole width of the square.

Ardrothy Longstaff, Purveyor of Pies Full of Personality, peered over the top of the wreckage of his stall in time to see the wizards emerge.

He knew wizards, or up until now he’d always thought he did. They were vague old boys, harmless enough in their way, dressed like ancient sofas, always ready customers for any of his merchandise that happened to be marked down on account of age and rather more personality than a prudent housewife would be prepared to put up with.

But these wizards were something new to Ardrothy. They walked out into Sator Square as if they owned it. Little blue sparks flashed around their feet. They seemed a little taller, somehow.

Or perhaps it was just the way they carried themselves.

Yes, that was it …

Ardrothy had a touch of magic in his genetic makeup, and as he watched the wizards sweep across the square it told him that the very best thing he could do for his health would be to pack his knives, and mincers in his little pack and have it away out of the city at any time in the next ten minutes.

The last wizard in the group lagged behind his colleagues and looked around the square with disdain.

‘There used to be fountains out here,’ he said. ‘You people - be off.’

The traders stared at one another. Wizards normally spoke imperiously, that was to be expected. But there was an edge to the voice that no-one had heard before. It had knuckles in it.

Ardrothy’s eyes swivelled sideways. Arising out of the ruins of his jellied starfish and clam stall like an avenging angel, dislodging various molluscs from his beard and spitting vinegar, was Miskin Koble, who was said to be able to open oysters with one hand. Years of pulling limpets off rocks and wrestling the giant cockles in Ankh Bay had given him the kind of physical development normally associated with tectonic plates. He didn’t so much stand up as unfold.

Then he thudded his way towards the wizard and pointed a trembling finger at the ruins of his stall, from which half a dozen enterprising lobsters were making a determined bid for freedom. Muscles moved around the edges of his mouth like angry eels.