#just need a tiny small break and then might be a little slower on answering things

[retiredcultistredux]

(Non-story) Don't burn urself out! You dont have to get everything out so quickly! We can wait! - Lollipop anon

((ok that's cool to hear thank you /gen))

[shoegazely]

@hidefire :

it actually works. well, a little. the thing is that the news is still playing and she can still just hear it, along with the rest of the patrons of the cafe, and every thought in her head sounds so loud, but… he’s keeping her focus. which right now, means more than she could ever put into words. knox, which is apparently his name, is doing more than most whenever she has had a moment like this. so she’s nodding along, and forcing herself to take in every single word because it’s better than the rest of the world right now.

“oh. uhm. i like music.” she doesn’t interrupt any of his rambling, because she had asked him to talk, and she was waiting to make sure she wasn’t going to break down sobbing again. this time, she tries talking a little bit slower, and makes sure to breathe a little bit extra too. back when she actually went to therapy regularly, there were breathing exercises she had been taught, but she's forgotten them all by now. it's not like she ever paid attention in the first place.

"guitar. i... uhm. it's. we do open mic? sometimes here. and yeah. i play guitar. uhm. and sing. just a bit. it's not." there's a tiny laugh here, not really because of anything she has said or he has done, but just the absurdity of trying to hold an actual conversation right now. she was the type to try and not talk to strangers if she didn't have to, and now this one might actually be helping her hold herself together.

(if you thought about it, that kind of made him a hero, in a weird way? rain could not stop thinking about the times she had various panic attacks throughout high school that ended in fires. he was stopping that from happening without even realizing. what a guy.)

"do you. uhm. you said. drums? do you. is it just drums? that you play?"

a grin appears on his face when she says she likes music. it certainly fuels his ramblings, because knowing that makes it so much easier to talk about it, but then the words have pooled out of him and he's left run dry, left without much else to say. once he's done, knox continues watching her closely, trying to spot any signs that she might start crying or hyperventilating again. which, like before, she seems more with it. certainly more present than she was when knox first approached her. he's just glad that she's doing a little better, even if it may not be by much.

"guitar, huh? and singing? dig!" dig, basically knox's word for cool. not that anyone else would probably understand that, but it's a word that's remained close to him over the years. it's his word, if you will. "open mic, though? what kind of music do you usually play?" he's genuinely curious, not just asking for the sake of filling in the silence. he always feels more closely bonded with people who are musicians in some way -- and this is no exception. she's kind of already won his heart. though he somehow doubts she's big into his kind of music scene, which is probably for the better anyway.

knox frowns a bit when her words seem to taper off, lingering in the air like she'd been meaning to say something else. there's a small pause, then she's asking about him, and it makes him stop for just a second -- then he realizes he needs to answer and stop silently standing here like an idiot. "oh-- drums, yeah, or any percussion really. sometimes tambourine, maybe maracas depending on the song we're recording... any way i can pitch in i usually try to." and isn't that the story of his life? trying to pitch in and usually failing miserably. "um, but what about you? do you ever dabble in anything besides guitar?" he tilts his head a bit, offering a small smile. he wants to hear more about her, now completely invested. it's not every day you go up to a stranger and see them in such a vulnerable state, so knox feels like they already have a bit of a connection. however strange that may be.

[drabbles-of-writing]

You’ll Be Okay

AO3

fourth owl fight attack! This one’s prompt was “Hunter and Luz being siblings” and I went a whole Direction with it

Summary: The Emperor was defeated. Amongst the ruins of a half-destroyed castle, Luz finds Hunter. While waiting for the others to find them, Hunter's shields finally fall apart. After all, at the end of the day, he was just a kid.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Luz found Hunter in the wreckage of the Emperor’s Castle, using his staff (the one that had Rascal perched atop, not the other, artificial staff. That one had been snapped in two) to support himself, his other hand clutching his side.

“There you are!” She breathed, rushing forward.

Hunter flinched at the noise and whirled around, lifting his staff to aim it before falling over at the lack of support. He hissed and curled up on the ground, eyes squeezed shut.

Luz faltered for a moment before continuing towards him, albeit much slower and cautiously now.

“Hunter?” She called, crouched down low.

He cracked open a wild, unfocused eye. It took a moment till it landed on her, and a few more until she could start to see him process who she was.

“Hey,” He croaked, slowly raising his head. “I was beginning to think I’d gotten rid of you for good.” He chuckled, before he was wracked with coughs and curled back in on himself.

“Oh please, you’ll have to try way harder than that.” Luz huffed, though the forced teasing in her tone didn’t work much. “Are you…okay?”

“Take a wild guess,” Hunter muttered, bracing one hand on the ground as the other stayed wrapped around his side.

And yeah, in hindsight, he really wasn’t. His white cloak was ratty and torn all over, the piece of under armor he often used barely hanging on by one strap. He was covered in gashes, bruises, grime, and who-knows-what. His breathing was ragged and raspy, and she figured that, yeah, when one is used as a living portal-booster they aren’t going to come out of it okay.

“Alright, fair, bad question.” Luz admitted, inching closer and placing a hand on his leg. “You need any help?”

“If I say no,” Hunter wheezed, eyeing her hand for a moment. “You’ll help me anyway.”

“Yeah,” Luz shrugged. “But it’s polite to ask.”

“Never stopped you before,” He rasped with the faintest of smiles, slowly leaning back until he was flat on the ground, staring up at the sky.

“Need a minute?” Luz asked, scooting until she was sitting right beside him.

“Or three,” Hunter agreed, shutting his eyes. “Everything kinda hurts.”

“Then rest, someone will find us eventually.” Luz assured. “I…may have run off to find you when I realized you weren’t with the others.” She admitted sheepishly, rubbing her neck.

“If they accuse me of kidnapping, I’ll break your shins.” Hunter threatened, though his tone never changed, and his eyes stayed shut.

“Understood,” Luz smiled, watching as Rascal transformed back into his usual self, chirping as he settled himself on Hunter’s stomach.

And the two remained silent for what felt like hours, though Luz was willing to bet it had been no more than ten minutes. She just looked out at the rubble around them, aching all over as a light wind breezed by. Had she not seen Hunter’s ear flicking periodically with the wind tickling it, she probably would’ve thought he’d died then. His breathing barely even disturbed Rascal, which she had to wonder if he was doing on purpose or not.

“When are you leaving?”

Luz blinked, turning her head down, finding Hunter had cracked open a single eye and was peering up at her.

“Huh?”

“The portal, you went through all this trouble to go back to the human realm, right?” He said. “So, when are you leaving?”

“Oh, uh,” Luz swallowed, shoving down the memory of standing before blinding car lights, reaching for a hand she phased right through. “I...I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Hunter repeated, giving her an incredulous look. “You went through all this trouble--”

“Okay, in my defense, this goes a little beyond getting the portal back, there were other reasons.” Luz said, waving her arms to the ruins around them.

“Still,” Hunter braced his arms under him, grunting with the effort as he pushed himself upright, disturbing Rascal. “Last I checked, the portal’s fine. How come you’re not making a beeline for it?”

“Uh, because I need to make sure my friends are okay?” Luz said, like this was the most obvious thing in the world, which, really, it should’ve been. “I’m not gonna leave right away. I need a day or two to make sure everyone's alright and figure out what they’re gonna do now.”

“Go back to normal?” Hunter raised a brow.

“An entire government was just dismantled, Hunter.” Luz deadpanned. “My fantasy books never really got to the part of explaining how they fixed a toppled tyrannical way of ruling, but knowing the Boiling Isles, I doubt this is gonna be easy.”

“Let the people good with politics handle that,” Hunter said casually, slumping back down on the ground and throwing an arm over his face. “They’re not gonna listen to a teenage human and her band of misfits for a new government, anyway.”

“Lilith might be good at figuring that out,” Luz hummed, ignoring him. “She has experience. Raine, too, technically.”

“If you put Lilith in charge, every witch and demon in the Isles will riot in the street.” 

“We’re not putting her in charge,” Luz stressed, appalled at the thought. “Just guiding people. See? This is why I need to stay for a little bit, I gotta know what's gonna happen!”

“Do you actually want to go back, or was this all a game of keepsies?” Hunter muttered.

“Of course I--I’m not arguing with you, you’re wounded.” Luz said stubbornly, crossing her arms.

“I'm not in that bad of shape."

“Really now,” Luz said drawled, reaching out a hand towards his chest before Hunter batted it away.

"You trying to hurt me more?" Hunter grumbled, rolling onto his side and wincing with the movement.

"I don't think you could get any more hurt if you tried." Luz deadpanned.

“I’ve had worse than this.” Hunter wheezed out, Rascal fluttering around him anxiously.

“Worse than a living portal puppet...thing?” Luz lifted a brow disbelievingly.

“...alright, fair,” Hunter sighed, a wheezing, noisy one as he shook his head. “This is probably the worst. New record.”

“I don’t want to know what the old record was.” Luz cringed as Hunter rolled onto his back once more, wincing with the movement. “You think the worst of it came from the portal, or being thrown around like a ragdoll by an eldritch abomination?”

“Portal thing,” Hunter said, eyes shut. “I’m used to…” He trailed off, mouth clicking shut as he refused to finish the sentence.

Used to Belos, Luz reasoned, was likely where he was going with that. She gazed at him sadly, his hands clenched into fists over his stomach now, Rascal nudging at his shoulder.

“He didn’t make it, right?” Hunter asked softly, and she didn’t ask him to clarify who.

“I don’t think so, we didn’t find anything.” Luz answered. “We could go check where we last saw him...if you’d like.”

“...later,” Hunter sighed, raising his hands to press the heels of them up against his eyes, fingers gripping his hair. “I don’t wanna think about it much right now.”

“I’m,” Luz started, fiddling with her sleeve. “I’m sorry, about all this.” She said, because she didn’t know what else she could say.

“No, you’re not.” Hunter scoffed bitterly. “You’re glad it’s over.”

“I am,” Luz agreed. “That doesn’t mean I’m still not sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you, I get it.” Hunter said, agonizingly gently. “I don’t need your pity.”

“I’m not--Dios,” Luz muttered as she ran a hand over her face. “Me olvidé de lo reprimido que estabas. You are my friend,” Luz shoved lightly at his shoulder, and he jerked and raised one hand away to give her an offended look. “And as your friend, should the stars align, I am sorry that this terrible situation happened to you, because I care about your well being.” She said, perhaps a few notches more aggressively than intended.

“...I’m your friend?” Hunter blinked, removing his other hand.

“Yes! Yes, you’re my friend! Are we seriously still on that page?” Luz demanded, almost yanking at her hair. She raised a hand when he opened his mouth to speak. “If you start protesting about all the times you were a jerk to me before you switched sides, I’m going to hit you.”

“...you have a very mean way of expressing concern.” Hunter settled on, voice small.

“Because you,” Luz poked at his forehead and got a growl in return. “Can’t get it through your thick head that other people can care about you. Newsflash, buddy. Eda’s already talking to Hooty about making another room for you.”

“She what--”

“So I’m sorry that the castle is destroyed, and I’m sorry that your uncle is gone, because you cared about him.” Luz continued before he could butt-in. “And about that whole...Grimwalker thing, which is a whole other pile of messed up things, but you get the point.” She waved her hands around. “You...you deserved better.” She finally finished, realizing she’d sat up at one point to face him, and now leaned back on her knees.

Hunter stared at her for a moment, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly. Rascal had crawled his way up and onto his shoulder now, looking between the two of them.

Eventually, the tension left his body, and he lay on his side, cheek pressed into the dirty, rocky ground. Rascal jolted, fluttering up onto his head.

“He was awful,” Hunter mumbled, like he was trying to convince someone.

“I know,” Luz sighed, looking down at him. “But you loved him.” She said, and Hunter didn’t dispute it. 

“...m’sorry,” Hunter got out, which sounded like a shuttering gasp, as though his throat was closing up.

“What for?” Luz tilted her head.

“You want the list?” Hunter managed, his snark falling short as he rapidly blinked his eyes. “I’d ask why you care at all, but you’re Luz.” He said, shaking his head slightly. “You’re too nice for your own good.”

“It worked out this time, didn’t it?” Luz said, offering a tiny smile as she held out a hand, just short of touching him.

He eyed her hand for a moment, then his gaze flicked across her face, searching. He must’ve seen something, because the little resolve he had left broke, and he reached for Luz’s hand and gripped onto it far more forcefully than needed.

She hoisted him upright, and barely had a moment to spare until he was grabbing onto her, hands fisted in the back of her shirt as he pressed his face into her shoulder. She froze for just a moment before she returned the hug, forcing herself not to protest against the tight grip along her back, definitely going to form nasty bruises later.

She saw that the white of his cloak was covered in dirt and blood all across his back, from injuries he must’ve sustained, though most of it looked dried now. She wondered if it hurt for him to lay on his back like that, and avoided disturbing those wounds as he trembled in her arms.

He shook with cries that were barely choked back, and she pressed the side of her face against his head. Rascal warbled sadly and nuzzled into his head from where he was perched in his hair.

Luz murmured words she couldn’t remember for the life of her, rubbing small circles across the uninjured parts of his back. He only pressed closer, clinging desperately like she’d vanish if he didn’t, and Luz had to put in effort to not fall back.

It might’ve been a few minutes, it might’ve been longer, but gradually, Hunter ran out of steam. His strained cries became muffled sniffles, slumping against Luz like dead weight.

“Sorry,” Hunter hiccupped again, voice muffled against her shoulder. “I think I got your cloak dirty.”

“It was already pretty messy.” Luz assured. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No,” Hunter muffled, hunching his shoulders. 

“Okay,” Luz said simply. “We’ve got time.”

“And ain’t that a new concept,” Hunter mumbled, raising his head slightly to instead rest his chin on top of Luz’s shoulder, and she could already feel him wiping at his face. “Having time. I didn’t think I’d make it past nineteen, if I was lucky.” He sniffled, voice hoarse and raspy.

“That…” Luz frowned. “Yeah, we’re gonna make you see someone for all of that.”

“Make me?” Hunter repeated, a faint, fading amusement to his tone.

“We have our ways.” Luz said with a hint of pride. “You’d be surprised.”

Hunter remained quiet for a moment, and Luz watched the old, ripped tapestries in the rubble wave when the wind went by them. She wondered if Eda would be stealing any of those as a trophy, and how long it’d take before Lilith took it away from her.

“Are you going to come back?” Hunter asked, quietly, curiously, without any hint of pleading in his tone, which she was quite impressed by. The subtle grip around her sides tightening just an inch gave him away, though.

“Of course,” Luz said, not needing clarification on what he had meant. “I couldn’t leave this place forever, not even if I wanted to.” She said, and prayed she wasn't lying.

“Yeah, you couldn’t.” Hunter snorted, slowly pulling back as he wiped up the last of his face, though it was still pretty damp as he faced Luz. “They’d be insufferable trying to get you back.” He said, frazzled hair hanging into his eyes.

“Oh, so you wouldn’t put in an effort, then?” Luz scoffed good-naturedly. “Can’t wait to get rid of me, huh?”

“Well now how am I supposed to respond to that?” Hunter demanded in a whine. “I say yes, and you start getting melodramatic and bringing up pointless random acts of kindness like I’m a liar. I say no, and you get all starry-eyed and unbearable.” He complained.

Luz laughed, despite it all. Hunter rolled his eyes and sat back, looking up at Rascal on his head like they were in on some joke she was missing. He chuckled along with her and shook his head, ears twitching down.

“You’re impossible,” He huffed, though he bore a smile.

“I know,” Luz grinned. “And what’s it say about you, still caring anyway?”

“Don’t push it.” Hunter warned, shoving her shoulder as he leaned further back, her only giggling in response.

A call sounded off in the distance, and they both snapped their heads in the direction of the sound. Hunter’s ears pricked high, the sudden shift in personality from relaxed to alert being another slightly alarming thing to put on Luz’s list of traits Hunter had. 

The call sounded again, and Luz could recognize the sound of Eda’s voice. She smiled and stood, untangling herself from Hunter as she peered out at the terrain, seeing a figure off in the distance, and if she squinted enough, she could see a few more not too far away.

“Over here!” Luz shouted, hands cupped around her mouth.

“Ow,” Hunter winced, rubbing at his ears.

“Oh, are they sensitive?” Luz worried, lowering her voice.

“Just a bit, I think I had a concussion earlier.” Hunter said, shaking his head to clear it.

“You’re seeing a healer,” Luz said firmly, looking back out to the figures in the distance. “Cover your ears.”

Hunter grumbled something about Luz being dramatic, covering his ears as Luz continued waving her hands and hollering to the others. It took a moment, but she saw one of them break away before the others followed suit, and Eda’s wild nest of hair could be recognizable from anywhere.

“Are you ready to make formal introductions?” Luz grinned down at Hunter, who slowly drew his hands away from his ears.

“Do I have to?” Hunter whined. “I could just live off the land, making a tent isn’t that hard. I know how to steal.”

“Nice try,” Luz lightly pushed at his head. “Unless you’ve got a proper living space, you’re staying in the Owl House.”

“I’m sixteen, no place in Bonesborough will give me an apartment unless I’m rich.” Hunter complained.

“Precisely,” Luz said simply, offering a hand to him. “Wanna try standing up?”

“I guess,” Hunter grumbled, taking her hand and letting her pull him to his feet.

He stumbled for a moment, hissing and favoring his right foot, and would’ve fallen right back over if Luz didn’t stop his fall with her body, hanging onto his arm to steady him.

“Yeah, that’s sprained. Or twisted, don’t really feel like checking.” Hunter gritted out, Rascal cheeping from his head before flying off, transforming into a staff that Hunter was quick to grab and then lean on, taking his weight off Luz.

“Viney can take a look at it, I’m pretty sure she came with us.” Luz said, grabbing Hunter’s hand and slinging it over her shoulder. “C’mon, let’s meet them halfway. You’re lighter than a sack of lumpy potatoes, it’s not hard to carry you.”

“I resent that,” Hunter growled, though he let her do as she wished. “You're just weirdly strong.”

“You live in the Boiling Isles, you're telling me you're not?” Luz scoffed, beginning to walk with Hunter, who used his staff occasionally to push aside heaps of rock or try and limp himself along.

“Well, I don’t exactly have a frame of reference.” Hunter drawled, looking up, his ears pinning back against his head when he could make out who was approaching in the distance. Luz could now see that King was sitting atop Eda’s shoulder, too.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Luz said, noting Hunter’s nerves suddenly spiking. “Are you ready to meet everyone, outside of, you know, portal mishaps?” 

Hunter swallowed, looking down at Luz with something that might’ve been fear swirling in his eyes. He searched her face, closing his eyes and taking in half a breath, anything more causing him to cough, exhaling as he opened his eyes again, facing off towards where the others were gathered, the fear replaced with determination.

“Yeah,” He said, clearing his throat when his voice started to shake. “Yeah, I think so.”

Luz smiled, bumping her body against his, and he looked at her with a smile of his own that might just have been hopeful.

She turned back to call a greeting to her friends as Eda was already scolding her for running off the moment she was in earshot, King wailing something about being worried. Hunter gave them his best crooked smile, despite his earlier claims, insisting she’d only come to drag him out of the rubble.

Yeah, Luz thought as she watched Eda and King pause and look Hunter over, easily slipping into mocking him for how beat up he looked, like nothing had ever gone sideways, and it was any other day in the Isles. They’d be okay.

[mxvladdy]

True Form- Belphegor

*collapses dramatically* Oh Gods its done! Sorry for the break! I hope my edits are good! 

More to come in this series soon :) 

Hope y’all enjoy!

True Form- Belphegor

Keeping a defined for is hard. Too hard for him anyway.

His true form is inconspicuous. He just naturally doesn’t take up much space in the physical realm. He likes it this way though.

An overlooked predator is a dangerous one.

If he is ever seen in this form it looks like a thin film. He drapes over everything, like dust in an unopened room, or the cling of fresh dew in the morning in the rose garden.

He never uses it when awake. His human form is more palatable and functional in all honesty. Don’t get me wrong though, he doesn’t hate it. It used to be really useful when he wanted to nap and Lucifer was on the prowl. But, such good things can only last for so long. Now Lucifer can sniff him out from a mile away incorporeal or no after centuries of practice.

His real form is best implemented in the minds of his slumbering victims. He can cultivate himself there, using his form to feel out the needs and desires of his unsuspecting host.

He is a manipulator, tried and true. His cunning and wile gets him pacts more than a promise of power or wealth.

Belphegor draws them in with promises of grandeur and unexplored inventions. Limitless discoveries all at the very tips of their fingers, if only they take one more step further. One more little slip deeper into the abyss. Then they can stay sleeping forever with him.

Even as an angel he was known as a dreamer. More often then not he could be found in the inner sanctums sleeping with Beel and Lilith during lessons or being carried around by Lucifer. Back then he always had pleasant dreams or innovative ideas that the other angels made use of. The little inventor.

Now that he has fallen, nightmares come to him more often than not, uncontrollable flashes of The War, his sister’s death, and the pain of betrayal. Perhaps that was his punishment, always drowsy with no control over when he sleeps, with nothing but nightmares to accompany him.

When he has control over himself in his slumber he likes to flit around into other’s dreams. Most of the time he goes to Beel’s as they are very pleasant and help distract him from the night terrors he had just escaped from.

Sometimes when bored or pissy he jumps to Lucifer’s dreams. It’s a rare occurrence when they are asleep at the same time, but he takes absolute delight in fucking with his oldest brother’s dreams or looking for secrets to lord over him.

He doesn’t come into your dreams uninvited though. Not after you freed him. You have given him permission to. But he uses it sparingly. When he needs a break from his own head he might control when you are tired. Just so he can have some time out of his head.

He is very controlling in that retrospect. He will form the shape of your dreams at first. But, you ween him out of it. Now he trains you to lucid dream. He lets you shape your reality around you both. You don’t know it, but he is allowing you to shape him as well.  

Mini Fic

He watches you from a distance. The grassy knoll you built was bright and airy. Pink and purple flowers sway in the light breeze you created, winking at him as they move. The large willow draping over you pulls a happy little hum from your chest. The swinging branches tickling your sun kissed cheeks. You lounge sprawled out on the ground staring up at the false sun with the largest grin on your face. The rays of sunshine illuminate your prone form, casting stark shadows in its wake. They travel down the hill searching and coiling for shelter from the strong lighting. They find him, latching on to his bare feet and merge with his own disjointed outline. How apropos.

"You can come up here Belphie. Promise I won't bite." You call out into the sky. Your eyes were still closed, but you tilt your head in his direction none the less. The smile you throw down at him is more blinding than the sun you dreamt up.

“I don’t want to intrude.” He steps out from the tree line blinking owlishly. Being welcomed in a dream had been unheard of before you. The mindscape was an intimate and private space. He was meant to be an invader, a taint. Before this he had been nothing but a rogue clinging to the edges. A whisper of temptation carried on the wind, or the hollow thud of a heel echoing down an empty street. It’s different here, with you. You expected to see him or sense him in whatever form he chooses. It was-nice.

“You're never an intrusion.” Your raw honesty floors him still, even after all this time together. “Had a rough night?” You ask patting the space beside you.

“Something like that.” He murmurs dropping down next to you. He is distracted momentarily by the heat radiating off your body. “You’ve been practicing.” You beam, proud that he noticed so quickly. His lessons on dream walking and lucid dreaming were hard, but looks like they were finally paying off.

It had been difficult at first, keeping a solid detailed form while knowing you were asleep. Then trying to stay asleep while doing it. You had to fight against the instinct to wake up constantly. It was like somewhere deep inside your psyche was trying to protect you, like it knew what happened when a human ventures too far into this place. Almost like it knew that a cunning little demon was lurking somewhere down here.  

“How’d you guess?” You ask rolling onto your side. He answers by reaching out to you and dragging a soft finger down your bare arm. You shiver at the cool touch, little goosebumps awakening under his touch. Your picturesque scene wavers at the corners from his touch. The caress breaking your concentration for a moment. Belphegor smirks. “I’m still working on it!” You blush.

“I don’t mind, as long as I’m the only one that that can shake you so.” He pulls away to summon a large pillow for himself. You watch him try to get comfortable. He punches and rolls around the poof for a moment trying to get comfortable. You could tell something was troubling him. The energy in his gaze was borderline manic. His usually relaxed stature was strung taut, right on the border of snapping. He would murder you again if you said it; but he looked so much like Lucifer right now. Tight, cold, and rigid. A clear signal of distress.

“You want to take the helm?” You wave around the small scene offering him a distraction. He could expand the scene far further than you could, probably ever could. “Or do you want to let your hair down?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. You smile at his little snort, that human saying always got him to laugh.

“Sure you don’t mind?” You shake your head and sit up. Truth be told, you liked his weird demon form. You could never entirely place where he was when he was in it, but you just knew he was there and close. It was reassuring.

He breathes a sigh of relief before flopping backward. He disappears on impact with the soft ground. The grass and flowers coming up to engulf him as he takes over.  He flows around you into every corner of your mind, stretching himself to the furthest corners of your dream. He weaves himself in your fantasy. You get swept up in it for a moment. The raw force of him pulling at your center. It is suffocating for a moment, the oppressive weight of his magic. It brings out a bone-deep weariness in you without meaning to. You feel the growing need to just rest. Just a moment.

“Back with me?” You open your eyes. When had you closed them?

“Ye, sorry.” You lean up onto your elbow and shake your head to clear the fog that still clung to it. It was always a head rush when he did that. Blinking the rest of his magic away you take in your now joint dream. The sun was gone, replaced with twin moons and awash with multicolored stars. His sky bled colors, dripping purples and blues onto the green grass around the edges of your vision. The more you focus the more the field grows and stretches. Off in the distances, tiny tents emerge, sprouting up like shoots from the blackness. “Really?” You eye the tents with a wry smile. If you strained your ear you could hear faint carnival music.

A low rumble bounces around you. “You suddenly have an issue with the circus?”

“Absolutely not!” You raise, calling out into the vastness around you. “You better make a carousel!” You could feel him chuckle around you as you began your trek down the hill.

Belphegor is quiet while you navigate the forest. He’s whole being hyper focused on building the world around your quick steps. His was divided and working overtime in an attempt to distract himself. Part of him was busy building the carnival, another working on making sure you don’t stir from your slumber, and the other awake and aware. He hasn’t done this in a while, splitting his consciousness so thin like this. His human body lumbering along in the physical world while his mind was busy in the subconscious one. Hopefully, none of his brothers were awake and would try to intervene. He wanted to be close to you, in both body and mind tonight. You reach the edge of the woods and he turns his full attention back to you.

He had gone all out for you. Bright lights and the echoing laughter of imaginary guests assault your senses. You could even taste buttered popcorn and caramel on the tip of your tongue. A warm hand takes yours causing you to jump. Belphie gives you an apologetic grin for startling you before dragging you off into the park without a word. Who knows how long the two of you spent. Time, as you understood it, worked differently here. Faster or slower you had no idea. But, right now you didn’t care. He needs you here in the present.

“So-” You start hesitantly much later in the evening. You lick at some cotton candy that had gotten stuck on your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” Belphegor shoots you a look from where he perched. His feet dangling from a study steel fence. He watches you ride the slow-moving carousel as it goes round and round in lazy circles. He mulls over what to say as you make a rotation.  

“I dreamt of Lilith again.” He admits. He comes to sit on the metal animal beside you, disappearing and reappearing in a puff of smoke at your side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ye. Me too.” He pats the kelpie he sits on. Its listless eyes bore into his. His old nightmares reflecting in their ruby gaze. He wanted to be over this. Why wasn’t he over this? The longer he stares into the horses dead eyes the more his nightmares creep back onto him.The dream shifts around you. The air dropping in temperature drastically. The merry background noises choked off and replace with a buzzing that made your head hurt. The sound of metal striking metal and shouts start to grow at the base of your neck.  

“Belphie-” You reach out for him, cupping his face. He doesn’t notice you anymore. His mind going somewhere you shouldn’t venture. His expression turns stormy, closing off to you completely. Fear begins to build up inside of you. Something uncontrollable riding in on the fast building winds. The night sky he built changes. Stars blinking out one after another like blown bulbs. The moons swelling in size, crashing into each other as your dream begins to crumble. “Shit.” You had to wake up, and fast.

You awake with a start back in your bed. Eyes snapping open while your body lays motionless. An odd sensation of sleep paralysis locking your joints. Something radiates behind you, a lanky body drawn close to yours. Sweet breath tickles the nape of your neck. Fighting the paralysis that held you, you turn to greet your bed guest.

Belphie’s half-lidded eyes seem to look through you. His body was icy, a ghostly vapor wafted over of his pale skin. You tried to wake him but your tongue was stuck. All you could do was stare wide-eyed as he dreamt. He comes back to you slowly. His eyes twitch and roll sporadically until he blinks, drawing in a ragged breath as he comes to. His skin warms with each passing tick of your alarm clock. As your drowsy demon stirs the stiffness in your body begins to ebbs. His chokehold on your mind weakening. After what seemed like an eternity he awakens. He takes you in for a moment and then he’s on you, lurches forward to drag your pliant body to his. “Scared me for a second there Belphie.” You mutter into his soft hair.

He sighs, breathing in your scent and focusing on your strong pulse. It had been a while since he had lost control of himself like that. Building up a world was easy. Tearing it down was even easier. The thread that kept people under was thin, like a single strand of silk. To lose himself to a nightmare in another being’s head? It was unheard of. It terrified him. “Did I hurt you?” He rasps.

“No,” You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow. “I woke up in time.” He goes quiet again trying to keep his breathing steady. “Hey.” You stroke a few strands of hair from his face. “You’re thinking pretty hard there, can I help?”

Could you help? If he was losing control of his dreamscape again… He would have to tell Lucifer. A shudder runs up his spine at the thought of retraining. No, he was still strong enough to keep it under control “Just keep stroking my hair, please?” He yawns widely, lethargy hitting him hard. He drifts off to the feel of your fingers flowing smoothly through his hair. The lingering fears slip further and further from his mind with each soft caress.  

[pseudofaux]

headcanons for comte, dazai, + your choice when they hear their s/o having a spicy dream next to them?

Oooooooh, I like this one a lot, and I liked it even more when I saw this follow up:

THANK YOU! 🥰 Ohohohoho, gonna have a field day with this one. This is a really great request, thanks for including my two favorites in there and letting me choose the third! 😚 Dazai’s gets a little dark/jealous and Mozart’s is... different... so if that’s not to your tastes, may wanna skip them (there are clear breaks between each character). I guess cw on all of these that I took the requester’s (A+) ask to heart. These situations are all in partnered relationships of great care and regard, but explicit consent is not here by the nature of the request. No one is in danger, these characters would never hurt each other, but these scenarios flirt and high-dive into >> dubcon << territory and two are a little dark. Please don’t read if that’s a fiction combo that makes you uncomfortable.

Comte takes her beauty rest seriously and takes great pride (and pleasure) in giving her the good sleep, so if she seems unsettled in her rest in his arms, he’s immediately alert and peering at her. He’ll brush any hair back from her brow and sniff-nuzzle at her temple like he can catch the scent of her dreams. He might be a bit of a fool generally but never in this: his woman is aroused in their bed, that’s not something a gentleman leaves be. Her rest is important, but her pleasure is paramount.

So he takes a middle path. There are things that he can do, as a pure blood, that lesser vampires cannot. And there are some things he, as himself, can do that others cannot, not even other pure bloods. They include whispering suggestions as he touches her (with so much gentleness and care), little scenes for her mind to make bloom in her dreaming. He thumbs one of her nipples through her nightdress and seeds the spring ground of her sleeping mind with erotic fantasies of being loved in front of a coliseum of people, public and shameless and loud. He brushes the lightest kiss imaginable against the top of her ear and whispers what he’d do to her underwater.

He’s very careful not to wake her. But he does continue to touch her as she relaxes into the dreams, and once she’s cum on his fingers, well. If her beautiful lashes and lips both part in blissful confusion, it’s his responsibility to make sure she closes them right up again, on his kiss, as he reminds her body what they can do in the waking world. Especially in the dark when their bodies are close and warm and she smells like bliss and he aches for her.

—|—

Dazai watches her without interacting. He doesn’t have Comte’s sureness of what’s going on inside her head, but he’s slept with more women so he has some sureness all the same. The tiny, unagonized moans in sleep... he knows what those mean. It makes him playfully, very lightly cruel, because petty jealousy simmers up fast. What’s she dreaming about, hmm? He can’t know it’s him, humans can never know each other’s minds so well. No matter what she’s say upon waking, he actually does try to wake her up, or at least test her wakefulness. He does it in soft ways: a whispered “Toshiko-san?”, a gentle drumming of his fingers on her shoulder. But when that makes her posture fall open in the bed next to him, his golden eyes narrow to see it, and his teeth come out. He puts a hand at either side of her head to hold him body over hers, does not bother to move her slip, and scrapes the top of her shoulder with his fangs, and when that has her whimpering and rubbing her thighs together— maybe one of her hands rubs dreamily as well— he puts just a little more pressure behind his teeth, enough to drag trails of heat over her chest. Whimpering becoming gasping makes him press his mouth to hers, firmly... it’s only the give of the pillows and the way they catch all the pressure that keeps her from waking then. He gets moody and kisses her with the intent of waking her up and fucking her, but her sleepy arms going around his back still him.

I was having the nicest dream, she confesses.

He hmphs.

You were nicer in the dream.

That melts him, and when his fingers touch her they’re mollified and apologetic, and he does what she likes best when he finds how wet she is. He gets her wide awake, so wide awake her eyes go wide for him, and his jealousy seems so silly and so small a thing.

But he keeps fucking her and keeps her awake until the sun rises. Just in case.

—|—

Mozart has zero idea what’s going on, he only knows that she’s not sleeping peacefully. Their hearts are intertwined but they don’t cling to one another in sleep, so he actually turns his back on her at first (!) and tries to go back to sleep himself... until she reaches out for him, hand slapping and then stroking his back when she finds him. Her touch is that way of hers, lingering and warm, and moving down the plane of his back and over his hip. It turns his brain to useless noise and he sputters and turns over before she can reach him. He grabs for her wrists with a frown but her sleeping face is so etched with need— he didn’t know, but now that he looks at her there’s no way not to— and her body is gently undulating on their sheets. He touches his forehead to hers and she’s warm, impassioned. He’s about to tut at her unconscious foolishness and figure out how not to hold this against her when his name comes out of her mouth, as though the breath hopes to travel to his own dreams.

“Wake up,” his whispers. She only sighs and her arm goes lax in his grip— she is somehow never doing as she is told! “Wake up,” he says again, now pleading and far from sure what to do with her.

“Bite,” she moans in her sleep. Never, ever does she do what she is told, what she should. “Please, please.”

Her hand surges forward and he is too stunned at the inhuman quickness to stop her. She throws the arm over him senselessly and seeks out his mouth as though it is some key she needs for an escape neither of them can really see. Her leg gets itself over his hip, unslow and fevered the way they only are with each other. His body goes hot like it must match hers degree for degree, and when she rocks against him he groans and grits out one more “Wake. Up.”

She hum-whines instead, ridiculous in her sleep, and he can stand that even less than her core grinding against him though the satin she wears to bed, all that she is arousing him beyond reason. So he puts his mouth on hers to stop her noise but her lips open and he falls into her mouth like always, seeking her as she sleeps and seeks him.

It doesn’t even work to shut her up, now there are whimpers studding their kisses, pinning all the world in place, especially the two of them tangled in one another. She slides her hand down her back and it is not done with the love she shows when she is awake, it is rapid, a wash of heat against the muscle that protects the side of his ribs. Her hand is already on him before he can do anything but choke out a cry that finishes just in time for her “touch me, too” to register in his useless brain.

What else is there to do? He touches her, fingers finding her sopping and trying to calm her as he arouses her. And he enjoys her touch, the precise feel of her hand a joy that he knows, the way it touches him foreign, proof she is not entirely herself.

She pulls him close, pushes herself closer to him, and uses his body as they continue to kiss, their tongues so much slower than their hands. She is sigh so sweetly and peacefully into his mouth as she fits herself around his fingers and uses the head of his cock against the needy—has he ever known such a need? even for sustenance, or for a perfect arrangement of notes?— crown of her sex and rubs him back and forth until they both begin to shudder. He spills in a mess, ground against her skin, one hand half tucked inside her and the other palming her bottom to keep her close. The stretch of his fingers should not be near as pleasant as he finds it.

Her sigh of his name is so satisfied it is as if some magic cast on her has fled the room and given her back to herself. She murmurs his name and shifts against him. He hates the squelch, sticky and unrefined, but something in the back of his brain itches to see it.

“Wake up or go to sleep,” he tells her. She does not answer, already well beyond him in dreams. Or so he must hope.

So he takes his time and looks his fill.

[undercoveravenger]

Warmth

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Male!Reader

Requested: Yes

Original Request: “Iiiii wanna request one of the wolf boys of your choice in Twilight imprinting on Bella’s younger brother and how the Cullens were involved cuz they all baby him so much. Thank you & I love your works a lot btw, hope you have a nice day”

A/N: I went with Paul, bc that gives Emmett reason to go angry brother bear mode lol, hope that’s okay!

__________________________________________________________

“Why am I here again?” You asked, looking over at your sister. The two of you, along with the entire Cullen family, were hanging around in some snow-covered clearing in the woods, waiting for the Quileute wolves to show up so that they could renegotiate the treaty, so that, hopefully, the Cullens could turn Bella without causing a full-on war to break out. “I get that this is important to you and all, but Bells, I’m human, and I don’t really want that to change, so I don’t see how this involves me.”

“Because you’re an honorary Cullen, human or otherwise.” Bella grinned at you, reaching over to shove you playfully, “And Emmett wouldn’t shut up about seeing his future brother-in-law again, so I figured this would be a good time to bring you to visit.” She shrugged, looking back out toward the wall of trees in the direction of the reservation, “Besides, having another normal person here might help convince everyone to keep a level head.”

You snorted, crossing your arms over your chest, “Bells, you’re a lot of things, but normal definitely isn’t one of them.” You waited with your sister for a few more minutes before getting bored and going to go talk to Alice and Jasper.

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

Time seemed to have been passing even slower for Emmett than it had been for you, since you’d barely even greeted the dainty vampire and her mate before the brunet’s arms snaked around your waist and dragged you up against his chest and you barely had enough time to close your eyes before he was suplexing you into a snow drift.

To mess with him, you remained perfectly still once he’d let go of you, even going so far as to hold your breath. There was a lot of shouting, far more than if it had been just the Cullens to witness your little prank, meaning the wolves had undoubtedly arrived just in time to see you get pitched into a snowbank. There was the expected moment of arguing but before you knew it, you’d been hauled up out of the snow by a pair of arms so warm that you had to wonder whether hypothermia had set in upon impact.

“What the hell, leech?!” The chest you were being held against rumbled as it’s owner growled, “Not enough to have to kill things to exist, now you go killing your own sympathizers!”

You could hear Emmett snarling and you knew that you needed to intervene before things got even further out of hand. You jerked against the stranger’s grip, forcing yourself out of their arms and back to your feet. “Don’t get your fur in a bunch, Fido,” you grumbled, stumbling a little as you tried to regain your balance. “I’m fine, just a little colder than I’d like to be.” It was then that you looked up at your ‘rescuer.’

His hands were still extended out toward you to help steady you if you needed it, but now you’d been knocked off balance for an entirely different reason. He was tall, towering over you easily even though you really weren’t all that short yourself, and he was built, with thick arms and a defined chest and abs and the rich russet color of his skin only made his musculature all the more appealing. Suddenly you were a little regretful that your playing-dead act had ended so soon. He had close cropped black hair that nearly matched the pitch-dark eyes that were fixated on you, like the two of you were the only people left in the world. 

His lips twitched up into a tiny grin, like it was meant for you and you only. “Hi,” he said, voice small and breathless like he’d just run a marathon. “I’m Paul.”

You’d opened your mouth to respond when you were cut off by the celebratory whoops and hollers coming from the rest of the wolf pack. Your brows furrowed and you turned away from Paul to see what all the commotion was about.

You could see Edward murmur something quietly to the rest of the family, dark amber eyes flickering warily between the two of you. Emmett bristled, storming over and planting himself between the two of you. “No way in hell,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Any of the other mutts I could’ve learned to live with, but you? Fat fucking chance.”

The werewolf’s shoulders straightened and you could tell he was trying to hold himself back. “It’s not really any of your business anyway.”

“Not my business?” Emmett hissed, tensing at the insinuation. “(M/N)’s my best friend! It’s definitely my business if some mongrel thinks it’s his place to come try and steal him away!”

It was fair to say that you were incredibly confused, but you knew that your first step needed to be defusing the situation. “Emmett,” you said, putting a hand on his shoulder as you spoke, “You wanna tell me what’s got you so pissy?”

Rosalie was the one to answer you, stalking forward to stand beside her husband and glare at Paul. “This pathetic little puppy imprinted on you.”

“Imprinted?” Your brows furrowed and you glanced toward the rest of the pack for an explanation.

Jacob, the only one of the wolves you’d actually met before now, nodded at you, “It’s, uh, kind of like soulmates. When a wolf imprints, it’s like their person is the only thing that matters anymore. Like they’re what’s holding you to the planet, not gravity.”

“Oh.” Well. That hadn’t been what you were expecting. You turned back to look at the vampires blocking you from Paul’s sight, nudging your way past them with a sigh so you could look up at Paul. “Is that true? Did you imprint on me?”

You could see him swallow hard before he forced himself to speak, “Y-yeah.” He was quick to backtrack, “But it doesn’t have to be r-romantic or anything, if that’s not what you want or you aren’t into guys or anything. We could just be friends? Or, uh, whatever you want me to be, really?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little; he was cute when he got flustered. “Tell you what, after this, if negotiations go well, I’ll let you take me out to dinner and we can talk about it, okay?”

Paul brightened, a wide grin taking over his features, “Yeah? Yeah.” He paused, seemingly getting lost in thought for a second, “Yeah-” He pulled a face, “I said that already. Um, sure. Anywhere you want is fine, I’ll just be happy to be there,” he grinned at you sheepishly, ducking his head to hide the faint blush coloring his cheeks.

Carlisle chose that moment to interrupt, “Well, with that excitement settled,” he started, shooting the two of you an amused grin. Esme smiled at the two of you from her place beside him, “I believe we have a treaty to discuss?”

Emmett and Rosalie headed back to the rest of the Cullens with a huff, but the rest didn’t seem all too bothered about your new bodyguard/soulmate. Alice even looked excited, bouncing up and down on her toes and speaking quickly to Jasper, probably already planning your wedding even though you and Paul had just barely met. 

You took a few steps toward the group before a thought struck you. You turned to look over your shoulder at the werewolf, “Hey, Paul? You said you’d be anything I needed you to, right?”

He perked up as you addressed him, grinning back at you. “Absolutely.”

“Well,” you started, smirking mischievously, “I’m still pretty chilly, so I could really use a space heater?”

Paul smiled as he realized what you meant, waiting until you turned back to listen to the negotiations to drape himself over you, slipping his arms around your middle so he could pull you flush against his chest. He pressed a barely-there kiss to your shoulder before setting his chin there so he could still see what was happening. He may not have known what you’d want from him in the future, but right now, with you in his arms, Paul was perfectly content.

[marmosa]

evenings with you.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: none!

A/N: harry potter won’t be the only thing i write about, but for now it might be since a few of my friends are really rekindling my love for the universe (not jkr tho, fuck that bitch).  

***

The common room buzzed with people running about, chatting among themselves and waiting impatiently for their slower friends so they could make their way down to the stand for this week’s Quidditch match. The fireplace crackled nearby, a sharp undercurrent beneath all the busy conversation. 

“You know [y/n],” Evie spoke up, leaning her head back over the armrest of the couch, “red eyeliner really suits you, you should wear it more often.” 

“Thank you darling, I’m not so sure it’ll become a regular part of my attire, but it sure does make spirit wear even more fun to wear,” [y/n] chuckled, glancing at her reflection in the tiny handheld mirror she kept with her at almost all times. 

“Whatever you say. I personally think that that Weasley boy you fancy is going to love it, he does seem like the type to enjoy bold colors,” Evie hummed pretending to ignore the daggers being shot at her form [y/n]’s eyes. 

“Would you quiet down! What if he hears you? We’re all Gryffindor’s you absolute fool,” [y/n] hissed, reaching forward and imitating a strangling motion. 

“I’ll start quieting down once you two go on a proper date, it’s so boring that you’re still taking this long to have finally made a first move,” Evie drawled, pushing herself into a sitting position, “besides-,” she paused and small smirk drawing onto her features, “speak of the red-headed devil.” 

[y/n]’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she quickly composed herself, panicking on not only what she planned to say but why he’d decided to approach them in the first place. 

“Hey Evie,” Fred chimed cheerily, turning to [y/n] with a more reserved gentleness, “hey [y/n]. You two heading down the pitch yet? The game starts soon and we’re gonna need as much support as we can get.” 

“You boys don’t need the flattery, your ego’s already too big from the last two games you absolutely crushed,” Evie scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully at Fred’s request. 

“Hey, you never know how things can turn out. One wrong move and our winning streak could fall apart!” Fred feigned offence at her remark, placing his hand over his chest. 

“If you really need a good luck charm, I heard [y/n]’s kisses are one of the most lucky charms there is,” Evie teased, sticking her tongue out at her now hot-faced friend. 

“I’m not kissing anybody, especially not a quidditch player, it’ll go straight to their head,” [y/n] muttered, tipping her head up in pride to prove her point, “besides, Fred here does just fine without any sort of charm.” 

“Now don’t be that way [y/n], that’s just rude. You know I’ll take any luck I can get though, if the offer still stands,” Fred teased, plopping down on the sofa next to her and tapping his cheek suggestively. 

“Watch it,” [y/n] grit, elbowing him in the side.

“Hey! Careful with the merchandise! I have a match to win,” Fred frowned, holding his hands up to protect himself from any other preemptive attacks. 

“Whatever,” [y/n] muttered, rolling her eyes, “If you so desperately need a good luck charm, here.” She reached behind her and un-clipped her necklace, dangling the golden pendent with the heart charm at the end in front of him. 

“Are you sure,” Fred whispered, eyeing the chain cautiously, “I wouldn’t want to break it.” 

“It’s not fragile, besides, you can repair it with a quick spell can’t you?” She grinned, letting the chain sink into his palm. 

He pressed his lips together to hide his smile, making quick work of putting on the necklace and tucking the pendent under his collar, grinning widely at an amused [y/n], “I have a good feeling about this match.”

“You say that about every match,” [y/n] teased. 

“I mean it this time,” Fred beamed, looking up as Oliver called his name from the portraits entrance, “Well, I must take my leave. Send me your luck from the stands ladies, I bid you adieu,” He nodded before jogging off, scooping his helmet off a nearby table as he ducked out of the common room. 

Before [y/n] could get lost in her thought, Evie squealed loudly and nearly pounced on her, squeezing her arm, “You two were so flirting! That has got to be the cutest thing I have ever seen, I can’t believe you two haven’t made out already!” 

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” [y/n] bit back a smile, leaning her head onto her friends shoulder as she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of their small interaction, “Anyways, we have a match to go watch, up and at it now, yeah?” 

“Hot chocolate and gossip afterwards?” Evie asked, shimmying excitedly. 

“Wouldn’t want to do anything else,” [y/n] grinned.

***

“YOU COULD’VE HIT THAT, FOCUS WEASLEY, FOCUS!” [y/n] screamed from the stands, her cries probably getting drowned out among the other student’s commotion. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have teased him so much, it might’ve rubbed off,” Evie sighed, nudging [y/n] slightly, trying to gain her attention. 

“Probably,” [y/n] muttered, furrowing her brows as she eyes the scoreboard, the players, and the commentators, “should’ve given him that kiss,” [y/n] continued, more to herself than anyone else. 

The game continued on, both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff holding their own as the time ticked by to the end. As soon as it had started it had finished, Gryffindor scoring the victory by less than 15 extra points, relief flooding over the students packing into the stands. 

“I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” [y/n] called out from the stands, as the students jeered and began making their way out of the stands and back into the castle.

Fred caught her eye as he soared around on his broom, beaming wider than she could’ve hoped for, waving at her frantically and nearly falling off his broom in the process. She laughed to herself, muttering a few insults under her breath as Evie dragged her along, insistent on getting their favored spot in the commons before anyone else could. 

The Gryffindor victory did nothing short of energize the entire house, the common room nearly shaking with joy and pride, drinks and snacks alike being shared like the last supper they’d ever have. 

Evie cheered with everyone else, still bounding on the same adrenaline high everyone else was. She plopped back down on the couch, wrapping an arm around [y/n]‘s shoulder, “Have you seen Weasley yet?” she questioned as quiet as she could against the deafening noise of the common room. 

“Nope, not yet, he’s probably off doing something stupid with the boys,” [y/n] shrugged, a little bummed she didn’t get to see him, but still overjoyed with the outcome of the match nonetheless. 

The night passed by in a blur. A few hours packed full of speeches, songs, jokes, stories, and food, everyone eventually falling upon the inevitable crash of exhaustion. Nearly everyone but a few stragglers had retired to their rooms for the night, the common room surprisingly clean for how much chaos had already ensued. 

“I’m heading to bed, you coming?” Evie offered, pushing herself off the couch and onto her feet, sore from the hours of insistent standing. 

“I think I’m going to hang around for a bit, you head up. I’ll make sure I’m as quiet as mouse when I return, won’t wake a soul,” [y/n] promised, waving goodbye to her friend as she snuggled into the couch, the crackling of the fireplace becoming the background to her nightly pondering session. 

She remained engulfed in thought as she recalled the events of today, he face running hot as she remembered Fred’s witty remarks along with the thought that he was indeed wearing her necklace. Her mind reeled enough that she didn’t notice the mop of red hair rapidly approaching her as silent as could be. 

“[y/n]!” Fred whisper-yelled, startling her out of her reverie.

“Shit-! Fred? Don’t scare me like that you moron,” She hissed, shooting her leg out to kick at his defenseless legs. 

He hopped backwards and situated himself on the couch as soon as she’d stopped kicking, “Still got some fight in you huh, the party didn’t wear you out?” 

“Of course it did, I’m just,” She shrugged, unsure of what to answer, “congrats on the win today. You did a,” she paused, pondering her words, “average job. Could’ve been better.” 

Fred’s mouth dropped open as he absorbed her words, shocked and amused that she’d jab at him like that, “You are just being a little spitfire today, aren’t you?” 

“And what’s it to you, Weasley,” She hummed, turning her body to face him, knees still hugged tightly to her chest. 

“I’m starting to think you hate me,” He mumbled, pouting and leaning his head onto the back of the couch. 

“Close but not quite. You can be charming,” She smiled, “sometimes.”  

“You know what,” he sighed, “I’ll take it. Perhaps me keeping your necklace in tact will earn me a few points?” 

He pulled the charm out from under the collar of his hoodie, holding it out like a medal of honor. [y/n] leaned forward and held the pendant in her palm, examining the gold heart for any dents or scratches. Fred held his breath, batting his eyes a few times at how close she was, the smell of cinnamon and sugar heavy coming faintly from her. 

“It seems you did keep it in tact, I’m impressed,” She grinned, letting the pendant swing back onto his chest, tapping it reassuringly with her fingertips. 

“I-uh, thanks,” He stumbled over his words, still recuperating from her closeness, “Do you- do you want it back?” 

“Hm? Oh no, you can keep it. I have a feeling you could use some luck on your side,” She hummed, leaning her chin into the divot between her two knees, looking up at him with inviting eyes. 

“I’ll cherish it until my dying day,” He proclaimed proudly, squaring his shoulder for a moment to enlarge his frame. 

“I have no doubt in my mind that you will,” she giggled, her heart being overtaken by a fuzzy feeling, head lolling to the side. 

Fred glanced down at her sleepy face, her eyes blinking in a slow manner and her body moving sluggishly, “I think you’re ready for bed.” 

“Says who? I’m not even tired,” [y/n] yawned, defeating her entire point. 

“Here, I’ll cut you a deal. I’ll give you my hoodie, just like you gave me your necklace, if you go to sleep right now,” Fred offered, heart hammering in his chest as he realized just how direct he was probably being with such a request. 

Her eyes widened slightly before sinking back down, a lazy smile pulling its way onto her lips, “It’s a deal.” 

Fred grinned widely, yanking his hoodie off by the back of the collar, stretching his arms up and over his head to get it off. 

[y/n] couldn’t help but catch the quick glimpse of his toned abdomen that wormed its way into the open as he forced off his hoodie. She quickly composed herself, trying to not let him see how her eyes were nearly ready to pop out of their sockets. 

“Here, I hope my cologne isn’t too overbearing,” He handed her the hoodie, the locket now on display in the center of divot in his neck. 

She took it graciously and inhaled his scent out of curiosity, her brain going fuzzy at the lovely smell of ceder-wood, evergreen, and mint that filled her nose, “It’s actually really nice, keep buying whatever cologne this is.” 

“Why thank you, that’s actually very kind of you,” Fred smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Of course,” She smiled, “well, a deal’s a deal. Off to bed I go.” 

“Yeah, Of course.”

The two of them stood up, [y/n] pulling on the hoodie and basking in the glow that was Fred. He looked down at her as she fiddled with the sleeves, turning side to side to get a feel for it, the gesture itself making Fred’s face burn red. 

“I think I look ready to take on the world, what’s your take?” She chuckled, being slightly taken aback when she looked back up to see Fred covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, the tips of his ears burning red. 

“It, yeah, it looks great. Grey suits you, you should wear it more often,” he nodded, still refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“Thanks,” [y/n] nodded, suddenly embarrassed to have even agreed to take it in the first place, “Well, goodnight Fred.” 

“Goodnight [y/n],” he passed her a tight-lipped smile as she shuffled off to her dormitory, he mind suddenly clouded with doubt. 

“She’s gonna be the death of me,” Fred muttered to himself, watching her disappear around the bend, cursing under his breath and heading off to his own dormitory. 

***

“HE GAVE YOU HIS HOODIE!” Evie shouted, shaking [y/n] awake as their other two roommates chuckled to themselves, running around as they got ready for breakfast. 

“That he did,” [y/n] replied in a groggy voice, stretching out her limbs as Evie paced back and forth next to her bed, going on about “a date not being far behind” or something of the sort. 

“Woah, woah, woah, slow your roll there chief,” [y/n] sat up and rubbed at her sunken eyes, “It doesn’t mean anything.” 

Evie stopped dead in her tracks and turned to look at [y/n] with complete disbelief, “You’re kidding right? That’s the most idiotic thing that has ever come out of your mouth, and you’ve said some pretty dumb shit.” 

“It’s not idiotic! He looked at me weird when I put it on and he probably regret it anyways, it’s not that big of a deal, I’ll just return it to him when we go to breakfast,” [y/n] muttered, sitting up and beginning to work on her morning routine. 

“You’re ridiculous, I hope you know that,” Evie scoffed, returning to whatever she had been doing before she decided to corner [y/n]. 

“Mhm,” [y/n] replied. 

The Great Hall was already bustling with students when the two girls arrived, both of them eyeing where they’d be sitting. They settled on a spot between two second years and a few people from the upper years, plopping down in the seats. 

[y/n] couldn’t help by feel nauseous as she cradled the sweatshirt in her lap, glancing up and down the table for the boy that was most likely obliviously responsible for making her regret every advance she’d ever made on him. 

Evie looked over at her poor friend, reaching over and rubbing her back softly to try and sooth the obvious nervous knot that had tied itself in her stomach, “It’s okay. Things will work out just fine.” 

Evie had her downfalls as a friend, insisting that [y/n] be bolder and more direct with the way she carried herself day to day, but when it came down to it she loved her friends dearly and would put them above anything else. 

“Thanks,” [y/n] muttered, poking the french toast around on her plate. 

The two finished their food quickly, [y/n] not taking much time at all as she had chosen not to eat very much anyway. As they made their way out to go spend some free time before their first class of the day, the same mop of fiery red hair made its appearance. 

“Hey [y/n], Evie, how’re you on this fine morning,” Fred smiled, stopping in his tracks as his brother George and their pal Seamus continued on their way to secure spots at the table.

“Just fine thank you Fred,” Evie smiled softly, “I was actually heading to the library to study before my potions exam, so I’ll leave you and [y/n] to it,” she gave [y/n]’s shoulder one last reassuring squeeze before heading off. 

“Good morning [y/n],” Fred chirped, a nervous edge to his voice as he stared down at [y/n]. 

“Good morning Fred,” [y/n] smiled halfheartedly, rocking back and forth on her heels as she worked up the courage to confirm her supposed rejection. 

“What’cha got there,” Fred quipped, pointing to the object clutched in [y/n]’s hands behind her back, “you’re not hiding things from me now, are ya?” 

“Not at all,” [y/n] chuckled sadly, “It’s, uhm, it’s actually your hoodie,” she held it out in front of her, refusing to make direct eye contact with Fred. 

Fred’s face fell, not even trying to hide his disappointment at this sudden turn of events, “Oh,” he reached forward and took it from her. 

“I figured you’d probably want it back, and I didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea, cause y’know were not, like dating, or anything. And you probably wanted it back anyway, it was stupid of me to take it in the first place,” She started to ramble, heart wrenching at the absolutely broken expression Fred was giving her right then, her mind screaming abort as she wished she could have just taken everything back right then and there. 

“I get it,” Fred muttered, his words clipped short, “Thanks for the hoodie back.” 

Without another word Fred turned on his heel and walked into the Great Hall, leaving behind a cracked [y/n] and blanket of regret. [y/n] started choking up, swiveling around and sprinting to her dormitory, her robes billowing behind her. 

What had she done?

***

The next week had passed by painfully slow. Each day felt like a stab to the gut, the blade being turned deeper and deeper into the wound. [y/n] was miserable, no matter what he friends tries, she was a lost cause, sucked into her own regret. Evie did everything in her power to get [y/n] to warm up again, but she knew it was no particular use. 

Fred had chosen to give [y/n] the silent treatment, even going as far as to avoid her in the halls, common room, quidditch field, you name it. That week had absolutely broken the two of them. [y/n]  had never been so upset over a guy before, that it was exhausting for her to even focus on anything else but the sour taste in her mouth. Fred wasn’t taking it well either, his brother having to practically drag him out of bed for quidditch practice.

This week had a rapidly approaching quidditch match, Gryffindor against Ravenclaw, and the prospects were not looking too well on Gryffindor’s side. Students had taken to relaxing a bit as they slowed down school work to let the quidditch players prep and the other students rest. 

Evie had to go to breakfast herself the morning before the quidditch math as [y/n] had opted to sleep in as she had two free periods that morning. [y/n] wanted to curl up and cry more than anything, the locket she’d lent Fred swinging beneath her shut eyelids almost taunting her. She knew prospects were looking grim for their victory, Oliver Wood would have a breakdown nearly every other day leading up to the match, and she could only wonder how Fred was taking the teams fruitless practices. 

Fred, on the other hand, spent that morning curled up in the common rooms, toying with the locket as he stared out the windows towards the field he’d be playing on later that day. He felt sick to his stomach, his good luck charm feeling less than lucky that day. More than anything, he wondered what he’d done to get her to be so repulsed by his advance, his eyes watering at the notion that she’d done nothing more than respond to him in a friendly manner that he’d just selfishly misinterpreted. 

The quidditch match had finally arrived, the team stalking out of the common room as the other students sat in lackluster enthusiasm, a few of the upper years demanding they show at least a little spirit to hype the team. It was a wasted effort, but the stand still vibrated with anticipation nonetheless. 

The match came and went and it was painful to watch to say the least. Gryffindor did so poorly it was as if you were watching a completely different team. Students left the stands that afternoon, solemn and sad, totally bummed at the outcome. 

[y/n] got caught in the current and ended up at the back of the pack as they filed out of the stands, her hands tucked in her pockets to keep them warm from the cool breeze. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck and felt a pang in her chest as she recalled just how cozy she’d felt in Fred’s hoodie. Cursing under her breath, she descended the steps, lost in her own mind, completely overlooking the quidditch team that appeared behind her. 

She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see a mop of red hair, but quickly calmed down when she realized it was the other twin, “Hey George,” She muttered sympathetically. 

“Hey [y/n],” He smiled weakly, obviously torn down by the loss. 

“Sorry for the loss. We’re proud of you guys either way,” She reassured him, reaching over and squeezing him in a side hug. 

He leaned into her and smiled softly, “Thank you. I appreciate the consolation. But, uh, I think Fred needs it more,” he nodded his head backwards towards the back of the group, Fred hanging his head low with his brows furrowed painfully close.

[y/n] was taken aback, but swallowed her pride nonetheless and nodded understandingly, excusing herself as she carefully pushed through the crowd, until she ended up at the back.

“Hey,” she whispered, clutching her hands in front of her. 

Fred looked up, his face wet with tears, quickly wiping them off with the back of his hand as he realized who he was talking to, “[y/n]? I thought you already went in?” 

“Nope, got caught up in the surge,” she chuckled. 

“Oh,” he muttered. 

“Yeah,” she chewed on her bottom lip, concluding on her choice of words, “can we talk?” 

Fred wanted nothing more than to say no and run away, his heart wrenching at the inevitable conversation they were going to have where she turned him down gently in that smooth voice she always used when she wanted to be empathetic, but he knew it was unavoidable, “Sure.”

The two broke off from the crowd and settled in a small study room, a hall or two away from the boys changing room where he’d deposited his broom and helmet. They sat on one of the couches that was pushed against the wall, [y/n] with her knees facing Fred who’d rigidly sat facing forward. 

“I’m sorry about the-,”  [y/n] began, only to be cut off. 

“I know you’re here to reject me and I’m sorry I if I ever made you uncomfortable with my advances, it was never my intention to make you feel bad, so you don’t have to say anything or pity me because it’s fine, I should have know from the beginning, and quite frankly-,” Fred began to ramble, all his feelings tumbling out at once, his filter failing him. 

“Woah, woah, woah! Slow down darling, that wasn’t even where I was going to start,” she backtracked, reaching forward and taking his hand in hers, “I was going to say sorry for the game. I was going to build up to that, but, what do you mean I’m here to reject you?” 

Fred finally looked up from his lap and over at her, his face starting to flame a bright red, “oh, I’m sorry.” His eyes started to well up and he exhaled deeply, trying to blink the tears back, but ultimately failing. 

“Oh, come here darling,” she cooed, pulling him to her as he cried into her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her and holding her tightly to his chest. 

They sat like that for a while, Fred dumping all his bottled up emotions into [y/n]’s shoulder while she rubbed gentle circles into his back. Her hand traced up and rubbed at the nape of his neck, fluffing up the curls that lay there. When it seemed like he’d finally gained some composure, she pulled back, sliding her hands up to cup his cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry I ignored you for so long,” He whispered, grasping her wrists ever so softly as she thumbed away the lingering tears on his cheek. 

“And I’m sorry I did too,” She muttered, frowning slightly, “I never thought your advances were uncomfortable. I relished them, actually,” she chuckled awkwardly, biting back her own tears now, “I returned the hoodie and said those shitty things because I didn’t know what to do when you looked at me like that. I thought “there was no way he likes me that much” and I convinced myself I was right.” 

She dropped her hands and started rubbing furiously at her eyes, the pent up emotions finally shoving their way out. Fred pulled her close once more, pressing her head into his chest as she cried into his shirt, his hand caressing her hair reassuringly. 

“I ignored you because I didn’t know what to do with myself,” Fred confessed as she calmed down, “I liked you so much that the thought of you not wanting anything more hurt more than anything. I couldn’t fathom how stupid I’d been, because I didn’t want to. And when you said those things it was like the final nail in the coffin, I realized I had to come to terms with your rejection.” 

“You like me?” [y/n] muttered, looking up at him, somehow in awe. 

“Have I not made that clear enough yet?” Fred chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head, “we’re hopeless. Absolutely and completely hopeless.”

She broke into laughter as he grabbed her and pulled her down onto the couch with him, a shrill giggle leaving her lips as she fell along with him, pressed to his chest.

“Evie was right, I am an idiot,” [y/n] sighed, pushing herself up so she was eye level with Fred. 

“The most idiotic, idiot I know,” Fred concurred, giggling when she gave him an offended look, “Okay maybe not the most idiotic.” 

“You’re impossible,” she huffed, glancing away from him. 

“And you’re infuriating,” Fred muttered, grabbing her chin gently and turning her to face him. 

She watched in silence as he thumbed over her lips, still wet from the tears that had fallen down her face moments ago. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

“I though you’d never ask,” she breathed a sigh of relief, leaning down and connecting their lips. 

It was salty and slow, both of them moving in tandem to bandage one another’s bruised hearts. She caressed the sides of his face lovingly, curling her fingers in his mess of fiery red hair while he pressed her as close as he could, flattening his hands against the curve of her back.

They pulled apart for a moment, both smiling softly, reeling in the moment.

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do that,” Fred confessed, breathing a sigh of satisfaction. 

“Guess that makes two of us,” [y/n] grinned. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Fred quipped, excitement getting the best of him. 

“You don’t even have to ask,” [y/n] replied, pressing her lips to his once more. 

[wincestation]

Just Tonight

Prompt: Stanford Era

Pairing: Sam x Dean

Summery: Inspired by the song "Just Tonight" by The Pretty Reckless. Sam drunk-dials Dean in the middle of the night and tells him he needs him, but after a year apart, is one night enough?

Word Count: 2,059

Written For the SPN Trope Round Robin 2021 (@spn-trope-round-robin) - Round 3 (Remix/Inspired By).

A/N: My first SPN writing challenge ever! I really enjoyed this one. Hope you do too! also, @stanfordsweater your brand is in there for a moment ;)

Read on ao3

Sam’s world is narrowed down to the sound of the dial tone. He waits in the cold, his breath forming visible little clouds. Finally, someone picks up on the other end.

“Sam.” he sighs heavily. “It’s 2am. On a Wednesday.”

Good, Sam thinks. He’s in the same time zone as me. “Dean, I need you.”

“What?” Behind Dean’s voice, Sam can hear the engine of the Impala rumbling to a halt in the background and the familiar sound almost makes him cry. “What do you need me for?”

That question has too many answers, and Sam can’t think straight, he just knows he’s cold and alone and tired and he needs his brother. “I need you to take me home,” he says in a pathetic, tiny voice, leaning against a tree to keep his head from spinning.

Dean tries to sound sympathetic, Sam knows this, but his words come out patronizing. “Can’t you get a cab or something? Or... walk?”

“Dean, please.”

“It’ll take me forever. I’m in bed.”

“No, you’re not. You’re in the car.” He feels sick. Dean never lied to him before.

His brother might be thinking the same thing, because he doesn’t reply.

“C’mon, De, please.” Sam is begging but he doesn’t care, he’s the one who left, he’s the one who hurt Dean, and if Dean wants him to beg, he will. He’ll do anything. “Start the car and take me home.”

*

“You’re drunk.” Dean says in disbelief.

Sam slides into the Impala and slouches against the seat. “And a bit high,” he confirms.

“It’s like I don’t even know you anymore,” and Sam knows he meant it as a joke, but he can’t say anything because the lump in his throat threatens to overflow if he does. He gives Dean the directions and leans his head on his brother's shoulder, ignoring the voice of reason that screams at him to stop making a fool of himself.

If Dean minds, he doesn’t show it. He drives slower than usual, as if he doesn’t want this ride to end, and for a few minutes, Sam lets himself feel a little hope.

The car stops too soon. “Looks like we’re here,” Dean says. It’s an unnecessary comment just to break the silence and Sam drags his pounding head away from his brother’s shoulder.

When he doesn’t move, Dean adds, “Need me to walk you inside?”

Sam nods. “Please,” and Dean agrees, because he could never say no to his little brother.

They both blink when Dean turns on the living room light. Sam groans and sinks into the couch while Dean looks around.

“Nice place. How can you afford - “ he stops abruptly and Sam raises his head.

Dean is holding a framed picture of Sam and Jessica, both smiling happily at the camera. She’s wearing his Stanford sweater - the one he has on right now, in fact. Dean looks at him and Sam knows he noticed that. “Didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Sammy.” his voice is bitter and he puts the picture down as if it was burning his fingertips. “So you two live together, huh? Where is she?”

“She’s - not here.”

“Is she out partying on a Wednesday, too? When is she coming back?”

Sam winces. He doesn’t want to talk about Jessica right now. “I don’t know,” he says.

Dean turns to him with a cold smile. It’s the smile that Sam fears most - the one that doesn’t show his teeth, doesn’t reach his eyes. “So you invited me in, for what? So we can wait here for your perfect little girlfriend and - “

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Sam cuts through his words. He stares at Dean angrily. “Not anymore.”

Dean looks genuinely surprised. “What, she… left you?” Sam nods. “Like, for good?”

Sam pauses for a moment. “She’ll come back eventually.” Before the cold smile can return, he clarifies, “To pick up her things, I mean.”

“Oh.” Bitterness gone now, Dean looks a bit lost in the middle of Sam’s Stanford living room, and Sam almost laughs. Dean was always better at dealing with broken bones than with broken hearts - but it’s not like Sam himself was any better. The memory of the last time he saw his brother starts to creep back at him, and although he banishes it away, it kills any chance of laughter.

“So…” Dean starts, looking at Sam, as if he wants him to say something. When he doesn’t, Dean continues, “Unless you want to cry into your pillow while I stroke your hair...”

“No - don’t go.” Sam blurts out.

Dean just stares at him. Eventually, he says, anger underlining his words, “So you want me to stay, and, what? Get you through your hangover, help you get over your breakup with college Barbie? Is this what you meant when you said you needed me?”

Sam’s too hazy to properly respond, can’t even see straight. “Just tonight, Dean, please.” His hands reach out to the edge of Dean’s jacket and he grabs handfuls of the leather, bringing Dean as close to him as possible, trying not to sob his next words, throwing any inhibition away. “Please, De, need you to stay with me.” He knows his eyes are probably leaking. He doesn’t care. He looks up to his brother’s face, trying to memorise it so he can remember it tomorrow, because right now he can’t decipher what that look of his means.

Dean grips Sam’s hands and holds them for a moment. “Just tonight.” He says at last, and lets Sam drag him onto the couch and wrap himself around him. The anxiety that bubbled up in him is settled down, and Sam allows himself to relax into his brother's arms; even if it’s just tonight.

*

The light hits Dean’s eyes and he blinks furiously before finally making out his surroundings. A moment later, last night’s memories come back to him and he sits up, completely awake.

He can hear the shower running. His nose picks up the scent of coffee - and toast, too. His watering mouth is what makes him get up eventually, and when he does he feels his clothes stick to his skin, a reminder that he slept in them last night. Sam did, too. They didn’t even bother with as much as kicking off their shoes before drifting off to sleep - together, legs tangled, arms holding each other close.

Because that’s normal, right? Nothing says “Hey, Sammy, I missed you” like a casual brotherly spooning, Dean thinks grimly and sits at the kitchen table.

He nibbles on a slice of toast while contemplating his next move. Sam is bound to leave the shower soon - it’s taking him forever, what a princess - and Dean has to be ready when he shows up. He let himself slip last night, lost in the face of Sam’s desperation, that genuine need… But he shouldn’t have stayed. He should've tucked Sammy safely into his bed, say goodnight and drive the hell away from this stupid prissy college.

Dean braces himself when he hears the water stop. Any moment now, Sam will enter the room, apologize for calling him up, and send him on his way.

Dean is already thinking of a way to tell his father about this (cuddling excluded, of course) when Sam steps into the room, casually rubbing a towel over his wet hair, completely naked.

“Dude, what the - “

“Oh - shit, Dean, I thought you were still asleep.” Sam flashes an embarrassed, apologetic smile as he wraps the towel around his waist. Dean feels heat creeping up his cheeks and tries his hardest to repress it, seriously, it’s supposed to be Sam who blushes like a girl, while Sam sits in the chair in front of him and grabs a piece of toast.

Trying to keep his eyes away from his almost-naked brother, Dean stares at the clock on the wall, trying not to think of it as counting away his time. Finally he asks, eyes still fixed on the clock, “Don’t you have classes or something?”

Sam shrugs his shoulders. “Professor is sick,” He says with his mouth full. “Want me to show you around campus later?”

“Show me aro - aren't you going to apologize?” Dean snaps, moving his gaze back to his brother. He lets more anger into his words than he intended and he curses himself for it, but it’s too late to back out from this conversation now.

Sam swallows his food, troubled, and sets the rest of the toast aside. His hands drop to his lap, where he plays with the towel, until finally he says, “I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have done this.”

Disappointment starts to bloom in Dean’s chest like blood stains through a t-shirt and he pushes it away violently. This is exactly what he was getting ready for, so how come he still has any glimpse of hope? “Yeah, you shouldn’t have.”

“I was just so - “ Sam won’t look into his eyes, and traces of last night’s desperation start creeping into his voice. “When you told me all those things, I, I panicked. I was already pretty unhappy for a while - you know me and dad, always butting heads - and that was kinda like a final push or something.”

Dean has a weird feeling in his stomach. “Sam, what are you talking about?”

“I’m trying to apologize, Dean. Please, just let me finish.”

“For drunk dialing me last night and dragging my ass out here in the middle of the night,” Dean says, not asking, trying to convince himself that this is all the conversation is about.

“What?” Sam looks at him. Dean notices tiny tears hanging from his lashes, like fish caught in a net. “No. For leaving you.”

The silence thickens while they look at each other. The clock keeps ticking away in the background.

“I told you to forget everything I said,” Dean says eventually. His voice is hoarse even to his own ears.

“But that’s the thing, Dean,” Sam speaks quietly, “I just couldn’t. Even here, all those miles away from you, I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I tried to put it all behind me, find a girl, build myself a normal life… But I couldn’t.” His eyes are focused on the towel and Dean’s head is working overtime to make sense of this.

Sam sniffs. “I know I hurt you.” He says in a small voice. Dean sees right through him - sees his teary-eyed baby brother, who simply did something he isn’t proud of and now aches for his forgiveness. “I said things I regret.”

“Called me sick,” Dean reminds him, mercilessly. “Said I needed to go see someone to fix everything that’s wrong with me.” Many other things were said, too, but those are the only ones he can bring himself to repeat.

“But that’s the thing, Dean,” Sam lifts his head at last and meets Dean’s eyes. His eyes tell Dean he’s right - this is his best, desperate attempt to fix this. “I don’t think you’re sick anymore. I think I know how you feel.”

What is he saying?

“I tried not to, tried to run away from it. But nothing else was enough, no one else was.” He’s visibly crying now but he continues, and Dean realises Sam needs to say those things, not just to him but out loud, to make them true, to make sure there’s no turning back. “De, you’re my big brother. And I love you. I don’t care if people think we’re sick, okay? I want to be with you - “

Dean doesn’t know how he got there - he doesn’t remember getting up - but he’s kneeling next to Sam, reaching up to brush away the tears, and it’s hard to reach his face because when did his baby brother get so freakishly tall? “It’s okay, Sammy. Don’t cry.”

“Mean it, Dean. I need you. I can’t - not without you.”

Dean stands and hugs Sam’s teary face to his chest. “Not going anywhere, Sammy. I’m right here with you.” Sam wraps his hands around his big brother and they melt into each other, bright morning sunshine and the smell of burnt, forgotten coffee, and little drops of water and tears mixing together and they don’t know where Dean ends and Sam begins but that's exactly what they're craving, wouldn’t have it any other way.

[agerefandom]

Bedtime Tears

Fandom: Hetalia

Characters: Regressor!Italy/Feliciano, cgs Germany/Ludwig and Japan/Kiku

Words: 1,650

Summary: Feliciano has been having trouble with bedtime lately. Ludwig and Kiku are concerned.

Warnings: tantrums, tears/shouting, some little smooches (hand, forehead, cheek), mild physical intervention (Feliciano is using his hitting hands, Ludwig holds them, Feliciano is unhappy)

“But I don’t want to go to bed! No!”

Ludwig glanced up from his computer screen, hearing Feliciano’s voice echo from downstairs. This was becoming an unfortunately common occurrence, Feliciano having tantrums before bedtime. Ludwig could hear the faint murmur of Kiku’s voice, and hoped he’d be able to reason with the regressor.

His hopes were shattered by the next shout.

“I won’t go! You can’t make me! I want to draw and play with Alto and stay up! Please Kiku, please don’t make me go…” Ludwig could hear the tears beginning to fill Feliciano’s voice, and he pushed himself to his feet with a heavy sigh. Kiku panicked around tears, which meant it was time for intervention. Ludwig double-checked that his work was saved, closed his email, and headed downstairs.

“Ludwig!!” As soon as he stepped off the last stair, Feliciano crashed into Ludwig’s chest. He was in full tantrum mode, tears streaming down his face. “Please, please, please, don’t make me go to bed! You know I’ll be good, don’t you? You wouldn’t make me leave?”

“What is all this trouble?” Ludwig said, putting a hand on Feliciano’s head. Such a small man, their Feliciano. How so much energy fit into that tiny body, Ludwig would never understand. “Why are you giving Kiku backtalk about bedtime?”

“I don’t want to sleep!” Feliciano sobbed. “I don’t want to stop playing.”

“You will be able to play more in the morning,” Kiku murmured, appearing behind Feliciano with no warning. Ludwig managed not to jump, having lived with the other man’s soundless movements for years. “Bed is important for little ones.”

“No!!” Feliciano slammed his fists against Ludwig’s chest. “No bedtime!”

“Feliciano, we don’t hit each other in this house,” Ludwig said severely, catching Feliciano’s hands before he could draw them back for another strike. “Even if you are upset, we do not hurt others.”

“But it didn’t hurt you,” Feliciano accused, tugging against Ludwig’s grip ineffectually. “You’re strong and I’m weak and… please don’t make me go.”

“We have rules for a reason. We don’t hit, and bedtime is ten pm. Those are the rules we agreed on.” Ludwig squinted down at Feliciano’s wriggling form, tugging uselessly against Ludwig’s grip. He wasn’t really holding him that tightly, but he kept his grasp. “You know that.”

“Let me go!” Feliciano finally huffed, and Ludwig immediately released his hands. Feliciano spun on his heel and ran off out of the room, fast enough that Ludwig could imagine a dust cloud spinning in his wake.

“Mien Gott.” Ludwig sat down on the stairs, staring at the doorway Feliciano had disappeared through. “This is the third night he’s fought us about bedtime. What’s gotten into him?”

“I don’t know.” Kiku frowned slightly. “He seemed happy before bed came up. He had no problems with his nap earlier. Do you think he had a nightmare?”

“And didn’t wake us? I doubt it.” Ludwig was well used to Feliciano’s nightmares, and he always woke them up crying, desperate for cuddles (and often for a midnight snack). “I’m going to find him.”

“Good luck.” Kiku sighed, and pushed back his bangs for a moment. “Tell him I’m not angry, if he worries.”

“I will.”

Ludwig pressed a kiss to Kiku’s forehead and headed out the door after their upset regressor. He hesitated in the hallway: Feliciano loved playing hide-and-seek, and he was notoriously good at it. Ludwig would never have guessed how many places Feliciano could curl his body up to fit inside. Once he’d found Feliciano in the cabinet over the fridge, with no idea how he’d gotten up there.

Now there was a house stretching ahead of Ludwig, with any number of tiny corners that could be hiding the little boy he was looking for.

“Feliciano!” Ludwig called, and regretted the military tone he automatically slipped into. Wincing, he made a conscious effort to soften his voice. “Feliciano, please come talk to me.”

There was no answer. Behind him, he could hear Kiku beginning to neaten the living room, putting away some of Feliciano’s toys.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Ludwig said, beginning to walk towards the kitchen. “We won’t make you go to bed, I promise. We’re ready to listen.”

“Pinky promise?” asked Feliciano’s tearful voice from somewhere behind Ludwig.

“Yes, Liebling, I pinky promise.” Ludwig turned, holding out his pinky. Feliciano cautiously emerged from the basement door, a cobweb caught in his hair.

“I- I’m sorry.” Feliciano ducked his head and came forwards to hook his pinky into Ludwig’s, avoiding the other man’s eyes. “Am I in trouble?”

“You’re not in trouble,” Ludwig said. “Will you come and sit with us?”

“Okay, bene,” Feliciano said meekly. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Ludwig turned on his heel and led the way back to the living room, Feliciano trailing behind him. He hated seeing Feliciano like this, so quiet and withdrawn, eyes still shiny with tears. But he had broken the rules, and it was clear there was a problem. Ludwig should not give in and fall back on tickles, on chocolate milk, or on big warm hugs to save the day. They needed to talk.

Kiku looked up from his tidying and straightened when he saw Feliciano behind Ludwig. Wordlessly, he held out his arms. Feliciano choked on a sob and ran straight into the embrace, clinging to Kiku.

“I’m sorry!” Feliciano bawled. “I’m sorry I yelled, and I was such a brat, and I won’t do it ever again! I wouldn’t blame you if you left forever and didn’t want to see me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Hush, little one.” Kiku patted Feliciano’s head. “It is alright. We will talk about what you need.”

“O-okay.” Feliciano drew back from the hug, wiping his nose and eyes. Ludwig sighed and grabbed several Kleenexes from the box on the side table, approaching the weeping boy.

“Blow,” he instructed, holding one of the tissues to Feliciano’s nose. Feliciano obediently blew his nose with a sad honking noise. “Good. Again.” Once Feliciano’s nose was clean, Ludwig used the other tissues to wipe his cheeks and clean the fingers Feliciano had been using to wipe his snot. “There. All done.”

Ludwig straightened and went into the kitchen to throw the used Kleenexes in the garbage, and by the time he got back, Feliciano and Kiku were both sitting on the couch. Ludwig sat on Feliciano’s left side, so that he was between his two caregivers.

“Okay, let’s talk. Why are you so upset about bedtime, Liebling? You know you need sleep.”

“I know.” Feliciano teared up again, his eyes cast down to his hands. “I’m sorry. It’s silly.” Ludwig couldn’t tell if Feliciano was still regressed or not, but he waited patiently.

“It’s just-” Feliciano broke off, sniffling. Ludwig passed him the box of Kleenexes, which got him a small watery smile. “Well, Ludwig, you’re so busy. I hate going to sleep because I know you’re staying up.”

“Feliciano…” Ludwig stared at him, at a loss for words. “I don’t have free time at night to play, honestly. I go to bed as soon as I finish working.”

“I know that.” Feliciano curled up, hiding his face with a tissue. “I guess I just hope? That you might have time? And when I go to bed, that hope is over. And I can’t. I can’t let go of the hope.”

“Schatz, I’m sorry.” Ludwig tugs Feliciano into his arms, cradles him close. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy and I didn’t realize you were missing me.”

“I know your work is important,” Feliciano sniffled. “I shouldn’t… be so upset.”

“No, no!” Ludwig held him closer. “My work isn’t as important as you are. I could be delegating more of it. You know me, I… I like to keep a close eye on things. But I have a good team. They can handle some of the work.”

“Really?” Feliciano’s big eyes peeked up at Ludwig from behind his Kleenex.

“Absolutely.” Ludwig nodded, determined. “In fact, I would like to call in sick tomorrow and spend the day with you.”

“REALLY?” Feliciano’s mouth dropped open.

“Yes, really.”

“It will be good to see you more,” Kiku put in, placing a hand on Ludwig’s arm where it curled around Feliciano. “I have also been missing you.”

“I missed you both as well,” Ludwig admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks. I think a break with my favourite people will be… good.” The anxiety was already twisting in his stomach at the thought of taking a full day off work, but he pushed it back. This was his family. They deserved his time. Things at the company wouldn’t fall apart just because he stepped away for one day.

“I love you,” Feliciano whispered, pressing his face against Ludwig’s chest.

“I love you too,” Ludwig said, cradling Feliciano’s head carefully. “Now, why don’t we go brush your teeth and cuddle in bed?”

“That sounds nice.”

Feliciano looked halfway to falling asleep in Ludwig’s arms already, his eyelashes brushing his cheeks as he blinked longer and slower, his eyes clearly resisting being open.

“I’ll see you in bed,” Ludwig said to Kiku, and was met with a quiet smile and nod. Kiku reached out and smoothed Feliciano’s hair back from his face, then sat back.

“I look forward to it.”

“Love you!!” Feliciano said, reaching towards Kiku.

“I love you too.” Kiku caught Feliciano’s hand, pressed a small kiss to his palm, and stood. “Be nice for Ludwig, and I’ll see you soon.”

“You guys really are the best,” Feliciano said, sleepily returning to Ludwig’s embrace. “I want to be with you forever.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Ludwig promised, and he meant it.

[stories-by-rie]

Chapter 7 - Heart of Silver

Back at home, the curse starts to spread faster and faster. Meanwhile, Ariel seems to know more than they claim, but the time is running out.

words: 3697 || masterlist

The first thing Evelyn did was to put her phone on the charger. Her shaking hands and the endless sneezes made it hard to plug it in, causing her to drop it when she heard Ariel move through her tiny apartment.

    “The kitchen is really dirty, please-” she hastily called toward where Ariel was sneezing.

    “It’s fine! Tea is more important! Oops.” Something clattered to the ground and when Evelyn went to look, some forks had fallen to the ground.

    She sneezed. “In the cupboard on the top right.”

    Ariel fetched the nettle tea and started to boil water while Evelyn cleaned out two teacups. She wanted to excuse the state of her place, but words failed her, so she kept working in silence, throwing trash away where she saw it, trying to stack the dishes in a way that looked a little less messy while she let the tea brew. Finally, they both sat at the small table and tried to drink the tea as quickly as possible without burning their mouths. It took four more cups for their sneezes to slowly fade.

    The clock at the microwave blinked half past three in green numbers.

    “I am sorry, Ariel,” Evelyn said into the silence. Only the fridge was groaning in the corner, the heating pipes glugged.

    “What for?”

    “For-” She didn’t even know herself what she wanted to say. So when she finally spoke, the words came unasked and unfiltered. “For ditching you. I- It’s not what I did, really, from my point of view. I know it’s what it looked like. I just couldn’t. Meet and talk and stuff. I have no explanation or excuse. It just happens sometimes. I never have one. An excuse, I mean.”

    “I thought I had annoyed you,” Ariel replied after a break in which Evelyn sneezed. “I know I can be a bit much. I am sometimes a bit much to myself as well.”

    “No! I mean, you weren’t annoying me, and you aren’t too much to me. It was my fault, it had nothing to do with you. It’s just. Sometimes this happens and then it becomes increasingly harder to type a message if I can’t even manage to get up and take a shower, or… do the dishes,” she admitted and gestured at the kitchen as a whole, her shame tangible in every misplaced object.

    “You look a lot on your phone for being unable to message.”

    As if programmed, Evelyn turned to look into the direction of her room where her phone was being charged.

    “It’s my sister. I messaged her once my veins turned black. She read the message. But she hasn’t answered yet.” To speak it out loud truly set down all the walls that held her up. With a shudder she rested her head into her hands, pressed on her eyes as if she could keep her tears in. “She’s still in the USA, so it’s only evening there, right? I don’t understand why she isn’t answering. I know I shouldn’t complain about other people’s replying habits. But she read the message. She knows I got cursed and might die and she doesn’t even answer.” She spoke through her cracked voice, grabbed a napkin to blow her snotty nose and tried for deeper breaths. “I could hardly deal with her leaving me behind, physically, but now it really seems like she left me behind in all ways possible. Which is fine, I am not her responsibility, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.”

    “If people know each other, they’re each other’s responsibility as well,” Ariel said and drank the last bit of their tea.

    “Thank you for helping me with this curse, Ariel.” 

    “Of course. I need to be the best curse-broker there is, after all.” 

Evelyn had been afraid that her words would sit awkwardly between them, so she was thankful for the light-hearted answer. The tension she had felt in her shoulders let go of her, and she found herself grinning back as she said, “You already are.”

    “Flatterer. Now give me your hand and let me have a look.”

    Evelyn put her hand in theirs and watched as they examined the silver.

    “It spreads slower now. Look? You can hardly see it moving anymore.”

    “What does it mean that I am the curse medium, Ariel?”

    The other looked up, thinned their lips, and then sighed deeply. “It means that this curse took root in you. The goal for me is to coax the curse out of you and hand you a new curse, right? But in order to do that, I have to give it a new vessel. A new medium. With most curses, this step doesn’t even matter as much. But if I want the curse, I need its medium and I can hardly put you in a box. Of course, I could just rip it out. But that will damage both the curse and you, so it’s really not an option. People always talk about breaking curses, but there is no actual breaking them. They can wither, but for that you need to know what feeds them first. And if we don’t even know how the medium works, then understanding the whole curse is just doomed to be complicated. But knowing the medium is you already helps. At least we know where it is.”

    Evelyn watched as Ariel examined her hand. She knew how they worked, knew how curse-brokers dealt with curses. But the thought of what would come after she got rid of the Heart of Silver still made her uneasy. 

    “Do you already know? About the next curse, I mean.”

    Ariel gave a weak smile at that and shook their head. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.” 

    Evelyn nodded, stayed still as long as Ariel looked and probed at her hand, took notes until sneezes turned into yawns.

    “I can drive you home if you’re tired,” she offered but Ariel just shook their head.

    “Better I don’t drive until this is solved. I can walk.”

    “Nonsense. It’s pitch black outside. Don’t walk out alone, you can stay here then. I don’t have a sofa, but we could share my bed if you don’t mind.”

    Ariel nodded and Evelyn got up to walk to her bedroom, pulled out a second blanket out of her closet. It took some fumbling to make the fresh sheets, but eventually she handed them some light pyjamas as well and they both got settled. Completely exhausted, they both went to bed. Before Evelyn could fret about waking up as a silver statue, sleep put her under.

    It felt as if she hadn’t slept at all, but when she opened her eyes and looked at the clock on her bedside table, it showed eleven am. Her arm was silver all up to her shoulder.

    “Ariel?” she choked out at the sight. Next to her, Ariel stirred in the bed, waking up slowly. With a grunt they opened their eyes to the bright sunlight flooding the bedroom, and it took a while for them to really look at Evelyn’s arm. There was no emotion on their face for Evelyn to pick on. No shock, no annoyance, no pity. Nothing that would have given her an understanding of whether this was a dooming sign, or just a bad one.

    A tug pulled her forward and then she found herself in Ariel’s arms. A soft hug, grounding in a way where Evelyn had felt like falling and now was caught. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, wild and frightened as she felt.

    “Let’s go back to mine. I will get rid of this curse, I promised you. Remember?”

    Evelyn looked into their brown eyes and found herself nodding. There was no usual joke following, no grin on their lips. They just grabbed Evelyn’s wrist to pull her out of bed and then threw random clothes at her while they got dressed in their ghost-print onesie once more.

    They grabbed the last few nettle tea bags on their way out and walked back to the car. When the motor jumped on and the house shrunk in their rearview mirror, Evelyn couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the last time she’d be there. While Ariel drove them through the busy early midday streets, she looked down on her arm. She had not yet dared touch the silver where once skin had been, but now she traced the faint lines where skin met silver, let her finger wander farther down until she could get the feel of her arm. There wasn’t much to it. It really felt just like silver, as if she were wearing armour of sorts, the sensation one-sided. Still, the sickness spread in her and the touch from skin to silver made her feel more and more nauseated. There was no pulse to be felt where the skin at her wrist used to be thin, only the silver, colder the further it was from her still living body. When she focused on it quietly, she believed to feel the heavy liquid in her veins, believed to feel how it wormed its way through her heart. Surely, it must be harder to pump silver instead of blood. To spread it inside of her, through her insides until she was completely grey and black from within.

    The car came to a slow halt in front of Ariel’s place, neatly parked in a line with the other cars. They let out a deep breath.

    “On we go,” they mumbled, sneezed, and got out and up to their apartment. Even during the day, it did not lose any of its dark shadows. As soon as the door closed behind them, Ariel lit a flame next to the door and walked straight to the kitchen. The books about the curse were still all across the table and after a moment of short deliberation, Ariel pushed them all to the floor with a move of their arm.

    “What are you doing?” Evelyn asked with no little horror at the sight of the chaos.

    “Helping you of course, and these books do not help. Let’s think about what we know about this curse so far,” Ariel explained and put their notebook down. “So far, people have talked about this curse in a sense of a love curse. Solidly built up on the rumour that the curse transfers in a way somehow from one victim of a jealous person to the next.” They filled up the coffee machine. “But we know that you got it through the fork of a dead granny that you didn’t even know previously, so I am strongly inclined to think that jealousy did not play a part in how the curse transmits.” The machine beeped shortly. Ariel sneezed. “What I think is that the curse’s medium is a silver object, like that fork, and once someone touches it, the curse completely takes root in that person. But until it takes over completely, it needs to find a new medium. A new silver object. The only thing I can think of is that it’s the last silver object that you touch while carrying the curse within you.”

    “And if I don’t touch anything silver?” Evelyn asked while Ariel fetched two cups from their cupboard.

    “Usually that either causes the curse to transform or to wither. In our case, I suggest it would be a transformation. Maybe it would be called the heart of wood then, or whatever.” The coffee machine made brooding noises and for a moment those were the only ones in the small kitchen.

    “And how does that help?” Evelyn asked then, a bit more quietly. Out of seemingly nowhere, Ariel’s cat jumped onto the table and laid down – somehow – all over it.

    “You know what I do for a living, Evelyn,” Ariel said and their voice seemed a bit more stern. “I am a curse-broker. A damn good one. I harbour curses and arrange new clients for them. To say it drastically, I work for the curses. Not for you.”

    “I am aware.”

    “So I need to know those curses I take. From the inside out. I need to lure them from you to contain them, and I cannot do that if I don’t understand them profoundly.”

    “Okay.” The coffee machine beeped again and Ariel filled up two cups. “What do you need to know about the curse? To get it out of me?”

    “Absolutely everything. From how it came to be, to how it transfers, to what it does and how it spreads, to what nurtures it and what lets it wither -- just everything.”

    The words let a cold run down Evelyn’s spine. “But how will you get to know all those things for me?”

    “Treating your Heart of Silver might turn out to be a bit experimental. All I said about it, including you being a temporary medium, is entirely speculative. But that doesn’t mean that it is entirely unscientific. There just really isn’t much that we can do at this stage but watch.” They took a sip of their coffee and opened their notebook so that Evelyn could look. “I have written down how much it spread, how fast, at which times and during which activities. Now it is currently spreading so slowly, I can hardly make it out with my eyes. But during the night it took over from your wrist nearly up to your shoulder. When you noticed it the first time, it spread much quicker as well.”

    “And what does that mean?” Evelyn felt stupid for asking it over and over again. Her hand, the one out of flesh, crept into the cat’s fur and the petting calmed her down a bit.

    “Honestly? If we’re lucky, it means that if we figure out when it grows faster and when it grows slower, we could slow it down, bring it to a near-stop, even.”

    Hope fluttered in Evelyn’s chest. “So I could technically just keep it? And live with it?”

    Ariel breathed in sharply and looked down onto their notes. The cat meowed and stretched towards them, so Ariel started to pet it absent-mindedly.

    “Not really. I mean. A curse usually wants its victims to live. It just wants it to live in the worst possible way. And if it would achieve that by trapping your mortal body and yeeting your ghost out of it, then it would do that! That’s why there are so many curses that turn people into animals or objects. Or make them overly forgetful or tie them to places. So many curses that make them fall in love or make them never fall in love. That’s why curses are basically living things. They don’t take root in just any host. It has to match. If the curse did not affect you badly, it would not take you over as a host. So, yeah. You could keep this curse, but it is very likely that you would live with it the worst life imaginable.”

    Evelyn flinched internally at the prospect, only to feel like not much would change. It was a mean thought, and it frightened her a bit. Though, objectively, that’s just what it was. Not a great change, no matter what would be asked of her.

    “What are you thinking?” Ariel asked, having come much closer all of the sudden. There was a spark in their eyes that made a shiver run down Evelyn’s spine and, a little confused, she put some distance between them.

    “It’s just. My life already sucks, so what damage is some curse really going to do?”

    To speak it out loud made it sound much more pathetic, but it didn’t seem to bother Ariel in the slightest. Instead they looked at her with intention and right when Evelyn wanted to ask about it, they pointed down to her shoulder.

    The silver grew with a terrific acceleration. Evelyn could only splutter. She tried to put her hands on the remaining skin, but it turned from soft to solid.

    “Make it stop! Ariel! Please, make it stop!” Her voice was high, her eyes wide. Some part of her registered how tears collected in the corner of her eyes. When she blinked, everything was black.

    She was certain that she cried out. She must have cried out. A warm touch on her cheek.

    “It’s only silver tears. It stopped already by itself, don’t worry.”

    Evelyn blinked a few times, wiped her eyes as well as she could until light found back to her. Ariel wrote hastily on their notes, silver smears on their thumb. Meanwhile, the silver had slowed down considerably again. Had now grown downward. As she traced her body through the shirt, she could feel how it covered some of her upper body until her hip. Also upwards, all of the right side of her throat. Still, her chest moved with her flat and urgent breaths. With shaking hands, she reached for the cup of coffee, pretending that there was some kind of normalcy.

    “I don’t think it’s tied to your emotional state. But it must be something close to it,” Ariel mumbled as if Evelyn wasn’t currently going through a breakdown. New tears ran down, and her vision faded in and out of black. “I will have to do some research. There just has to be something, somewhere.” They got up and walked out of the kitchen while Evelyn counted the seconds. Breathing in for four, holding for seven, breathing out for eight. It felt as if she would burst. A loud thud and she opened her eyes, her vision smeared grey. Ariel set their old laptop down on the kitchen table and started to boot it up. For many minutes they worked in silence. Their typing mixed with the background noises, with the purring of their cat. Evelyn started to calm herself down to a point where she noticed that the sun had disappeared behind the clouds. It would rain again soon.

    Ariel looked up from their laptop. “I’m starting to think…” they said and stood up to refill their coffee cup, “that maybe this whole curse might be taken literally.”

    “Yeah. Because my heart will be silver in like five minutes,” Evelyn pressed out through her trembling.

    “No. I mean, maybe, you would have never gotten cursed if you had expected to get paid. A heart of silver is a good heart, no? Of someone who is kind. You can’t argue that you are generally speaking a pretty decent person.”

    “Thanks.”

    “No, I mean it.”

    “I try to.”

    “That counts.”

    Evelyn scoffed lightly and drank some more coffee. The taste burnt in her throat. What did it even matter to know why she got cursed? What’s done was done. She could not go back in time.

    “So what?” she asked and looked up at Ariel who focused on their laptop again. “I just have to murder someone to get rid of this curse?”

    “That might just as well work,” they answered and frowned at the display, typing furiously. “Can you imagine? My last client rated me with one star, commenting ‘I can’t give zero stars, so take at least one for the coffee I was offered! This was the worst deal in history!!! Do not go there!!’.” They typed and typed and then grumbled something under their breath.

    “Are you seriously checking your google reviews now?” Evelyn exclaimed and got up to look at the screen. Ariel had replied with an essay to a review of their shop.

    “No one can hold tardiness against me,” they replied and closed the laptop down.

    “Please. Ariel. I am dying.”

    “Nonsense,” they said and got up to make more coffee. Evelyn shut her eyes in an attempt to calm her nerves, but it only made her see black once more when she opened them again. After blinking the heavy tears away, she saw Ariel still working in the kitchen. It looked as if they were starting to cook, boiling water and adding salt, but the idea of eating alone made Evelyn’s stomach turn.

    “I think,” Ariel then announced, “we’re really close to finding the key. I simply need a little more time.”

    Somehow, those words made her snap. Deep inside her. A string she hadn’t been aware of before. Pulled taught and words that were intended to be kind still ripped it apart.

    “Then why aren’t you working on it?” Her voice sounded a bit strange to her own ears, but the blood thumping through them covered it up well.

    Ariel turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “I am,” they replied and stirred the warming water. “You said you’d trust me. I need you to.”

    Evelyn swallowed down her anger, let it be taken over by guilt. It hurt. To suppress her fears was irritating, but a tiny voice reminded her that she did want to trust Ariel more. It was not their fault that she got cursed. They tried their best. They dumped a generous amount of pasta in the pot, stirred without haste. Evelyn wanted to wipe at her eyes before the silver could blacken her sight. Her arm did not move with her. She could not move her arm.

    “No. No, no, no, no, no! Ariel!”

    Ariel whipped around to her, their eyes widening at the sight. The silver spread, ran up her torso, down her spine. She could feel it numbing her right leg first, then her left. As if it just lost its patience.

    “Oh shit,” they mumbled and looked at the pot. But there was no time. The silver grew only faster the calmer Evelyn tried to be. Maybe it was tied to her emotional state after all.

    “I don’t want to die,” she sobbed.

    “You won’t.”

    “You promised!” Evelyn choked on her own words, felt the guilt filling her up to the brim at the sight of confusion in Ariel’s eyes.

    “And you won’t! I just need time.”

    “I don’t have time! It’s too late, Ariel!” They were her last words before her phone buzzed once, twice, taking her attention completely.

    And then it all faded to black.

_____

previous chapter || WIP intro || masterlist || next chapter

[flowerwrites06]

jeweled sea I — kth

Plot: A princess without a kingdom ends up in a pirate ship 

Pairing(s): Pirate!Taehyung x Princess!OC (Name: Angel) 

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 5k+

Genre: Pirates/Fantasy | Fluff/Angst/Smut 

Tags & Warnings: drinking, mentions of trading people, explicit smut (in the next part), tiny bit of angst. 

Authors Note: another requested repost and one of my personal favourites! 

Endless horizons across the blue sea where all Taehyung could notice were the tiny islands perched in the midst of endless water and all he could taste were the salty winds. A whole year passed and every memory involved being on his favourite ship going who knows where. Their bellies full, pockets thick with gold but their bodies grew tired of the constant journeys. Which is why every year, pirate crews travelled to a remote island open to only them. Lawless, dirty, loud and full of scoundrels. But it was as home as it could be for the likes of them.

Taehyung stood at the quarter deck, eyes squinting a little in the sunny light beaming down on them, hot but a refreshing mixture with the coolness from the ocean. “How long till we reach the Severed Tail?” He asked his first mate, Namjoon who was manning the steer for the time being.

“We’ll be passing some secure waters.” Namjoon stared up at the sky for a moment. “It’ll take about a couple more days until we can reach there without any fights.”

The captain let out a deep sigh, looking over at his crew. It took no expert to realize that each member moved slower than before. Travelling for so long even for active souls like theirs took a toll on their energy and health at some point. “Alright. They’re strong. They can take a couple more days.” He patted Namjoons’ shoulder.

Walking over the deck side, he rested on his palms against the rough wood. A few cracks around the corners and he spotted a few barnacles growing on the sides but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. As the ship passed a small island, Taehyung could notice a grey cloud smoke exuding from a land hours from them.

“Must’ve been a terrible fire.” Namjoon spoke also noticing the thick smoke.

“I didn’t know fires could be seen from this far away.” Taehyungs’ brows furrowed, attempting to make out any kind of familiarity of the place but he never explored any corners past the Mermaids’ passage. Like Namjoon said, the waters were always full of security. Except this passage strictly belonged to the Pirate Guild so they kept their distance when they needed to. “Looks like a whole city burned down.”

His first mate hummed in response, focusing back in front of him again before smoothly turning right to keep following the passage. Pirates a couple of decades prior to them taking their own sails, created markers in the water made from the crushed scales of already deceased mermaids. It shimmered green in the daylight and glowed pink in the night. The trick was that only pirates with the Ocean Engraving on their hand could see it to ensure maximum security for their island sanctuary.

At the thought, Taehyung absentmindedly brushed over his. A simple mark of a fin given to only trusted captains and first mates.

“Captain!” One of the crew members, Jimin, called out to jolt his attention back. “There’s a person in the water!”

Taehyung glanced at Jimin for a second before his eyes caught something just near his ship. A figure adorned in white clothing stuck to their wet skin, floating away on a piece of dark wood. “Stop the ship.” He waved the order to Namjoon before rushing down to the main deck.

Holding onto one of the ropes, the captain climbed down the ladder off the side of the ship. Carefully he placed a foot on the piece of wood trying to pull it towards him. The sea decided to be calm today which made the ordeal a whole lot easier. Taehyung grabbed onto the figures’ arm noticing her long hair matted to her face. He picked the form up so he could at least wrap his arm tightly around her waist.

Throbbing ache on his arm, he gripped onto the handles of the ladder tightly attempting to climb with the extra while the crew members tried to pull them from the rope. Once at the top Taehyung pushed the figure up before him and Jimin immediately grabbed onto her so the weight could be lifted.

Once the figure was in the ship, Taehyung easily jumped in himself. The entire crew seemed to crowd around the unconscious figure while Jimin had his ear on her chest.

“She’s still breathing.” The corner of his lips curled up before he placed one hand over the other in the middle of the womans’ chest.

After a few pumps, the figure convulsed in a fit of coughs, water sputtering out of the mouth before heaving in a breath. Body inflating and deflating from her breathing, reddened eyes flickered up. At the very sight of the crew, she jumped back almost hitting her head against the deck.

“It’s alright, it’s okay.” Jimin raised his hands. “You’re safe now.”

“Sa—” The woman hardly looked convinced as the crew members continued closing in on her. Her arms immediately wrapped around her shivering body. “Where—where am I?”

“You’re on board the Serpent.” Taehyung answered, hands placed on his hips as he examined the form. “And it seems we caught ourselves a little mermaid.” A few of the crew members chortled except Jimin nor the woman didn’t look impressed. Noticing their reactions, Taehyung immediately faced the other men. “Alright, all of you back to work!” He growled and almost instantly everyone moved back to their positions.

Jimin glanced at the captain apprehensively before helping the woman get up. “What’s your name?” He muttered.

“Angel.” The woman breathed out.

“Well, Angel—welcome board.” Taehyung smiled giving her a little bow. “You can be in the captains’ cabin so none of these idiots try something funny.” He gestured to the closed door just under the quarter deck behind him.

Angel stared at the pirate before nodding until Jimin led her towards the door so she could fully regain herself.

“You know, I heard somewhere it’s incredibly lucky to find a woman lost at sea!” Namjoon spoke up, leaning against the railing of the quarter deck.

Taehyung looked over his shoulder to his first mate. “Is it now?”

“Apparently it means you’re going to be offered something by royalty.”

“I’ve been offered a lot of things by royalty. Haven’t been good things.” The captain chuckled, glancing over at the closed door of his cabin. “Let’s move out!

-

Stomach swayed along with the back and forth of the large ship. It didn’t help that Angel opted to sit near the windows, watching how the majestic waves engulfed the bottom for a moment almost mimicking memories of her drowning. Then it flowed back to show her the horizon again. The sky still stood clear and bright as ever. Clothes began to dry uncomfortably against her parched skin, hair clumped together while a thick blanket wrapped around her chilled body.

The pirate Jimin expressed the utmost kindness by giving her some warmth while he rushed off to look for some new clothes for her to wear. Angel should have been grateful for being rescued but her chest still cramped. Constant explosions still booming in her ears, children screaming for their mothers, her own parents telling her to run as fast as she could to save herself.

Everything she ever knew. Gone.

Angel pulled out of her thoughts when the door of the cabin creaked open. Getting away from the window, she stood in the center expecting Jimin. Instead she saw a tanned male padded into the room with something in his hand.

Taehyung slowed his actions down as he saw the woman watching him. Door closed, he turned to face her, plump lips pursed. “Bit tricky to find clean clothes but Jimin managed to grab some of his from his trunk.” He handed the pile to Angel. “It might be a little big.”

“It’s okay.” Angel muttered, accepting the neatly organized pile with everything she needed from a soft shirt to some comfortable pants. “Thank you.”

“It wouldn’t be nice of me to let you drown.” Taehyung stated like it was obvious. “Is there a place I can drop you off? A house?”

Her heart sank at the mention of a house as she hugged the clothes to her chest. “My house was attacked.” Voice resorted to a meek tone.

“Oh.” He remembered the thick smoke radiating from the island. “How did it happen?”

As the woman took a breath to speak, she quickly stopped to mull over her words. They did help her from getting lost away at sea but pirates were never pegged as the most trustworthy of groups. “I lived in a small kingdom. There was an army marching in while I was sleeping so my—my parents told me to run away to save myself.” Her heart pounded a little but it technically wasn’t a complete lie.

Taehyung nodded, the severity of the smoke making a whole lot more sense. If it weren’t for their break, broken kingdoms were the first place to go. Vulnerable and ripe for the taking while the politicians argued for their power and the citizens were too worried about a revolution. “Do you have any relatives?”

Angel shook her head. None of her relatives would take her in after the territories was divided into separate kingdoms. She would be an unnecessary hassle probably married off the second she stepped foot into the palace. “I don’t know.”

“Right.” Taehyung averted his gaze in thought. “Well no reason to strand you back into sea. You can be a part of the crew.” He could already imagine the wandering gazes of his loyal but wild crew at the new member but it wouldn’t be too hard to put them in their place.

“Are you sure?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s no trouble. Besides my first mate says finding a woman at sea is good luck.” Taehyung smirked.

Angel couldn’t help but smile in return. She shrugged off the thick blanket, feeling a rush of chilly air cloud around her already shivering body.

Taehyung flicked off the naughty piece of hair flying over his red bandana. From the corner of his eye, he noticed how wonderfully transparent the white fabric was especially after being ruined in the sea. If he focused a little, the oil lamp light from the cabin could illuminate her curves. He watched her shrug off the thin robe leaving her a short sleeved dress. But then she stopped forcing his breath to catch in his throat.

Gaze flickered up to Taehyung who still had a close eye on her almost without blinking. “Uhm—I need to—change.” Angel murmured purposely unable to meet his curious orbs.

Taehyung quizzically looked over at the woman, glancing at the pile of clothes and her. Eventually his expression softened into one of realization, lips parting. “Oh—right…” He chuckled nervously. “I’ll leave you to it.” Backing away to the door, he curled the knob and created enough gap for him to slither through. “And uh—you can sleep here.” He gestured to the bed.

Truth be told, the woman was a little taken aback by the hospitality. Though she reminded herself to stay vigilant for her own protection, she still adorned a smile. “Thank you…captain.”

Taehyung hummed with a smile before closing the door and leaving her to her privacy.

-

Outside of the cabin, the moonlight cast down a silvery hue meshed with deep black blue creating a ghostly atmosphere to his beloved ship. As Taehyung turned around he immediately saw Jimin with a concerned expression. “She’s fine.” He reassured. “Go get some rest.”

Still the other male stood, plump lips parted and twitching as if desperate to ask more questions. “Where is she going to sleep?”

“In the cabin.”

“Where are you going to sleep?”

“Apparently not in the cabin with the way you’re staring at me.” Taehyung tilted his head.

Jimin pressed his lips together, trying to avert his gaze even though it was mostly forced. He knew the captain was a good man with strong principles. Subtle but they were present if one looked hard enough through the mischievious exterior. That didn’t mean he still didn’t worry for the womans’ safety.

The captain then sighed noticing Jimins’ apprehension. “You can keep an eye on the door if you’d like.”

Eyes immediately lit up at Taehyung’s words, forcing down a wider grin and breath of relief. “Thank you, captain.”

“Yeah, yeah…” He waved it off walking to the side to the stairs leading to the quarter deck. “Been doing everyone favors today.”

-

Finally her lungs could expand and take in the wide fresh air without having to gasp for water after hours of constant thirst. It was hot. New clothes stuck to Angels’ dampened skin except it was lot more pleasant than yesterday. Hat on her head made the sun less harsh on her eyes while she scrubbed away at the deck railings. Admittedly, the woman didn’t get flustered often. She was always trained not to be, in fact as it never looked elegant.

Though the burning gaze of each of the crew members almost piercing through her backside created a slight hint of discomfort.

For a while, Angel was able to ignore it and continue doing the tiny chore Taehyung set out during the morning. Except then the gazes turned to interactions. Or if one could call it that.

One of the members with an eye-patch and missing front teeth padded towards her, pretending that they were fixing ropes before awkwardly leaning on the deck. “Hats look nice on you.” He chuckled.

Angel gave a polite smile continuing on with the scrubbing. “Thank you.”

“I like hats. You know, my mum makes hats.” He breathed out.

“That’s very nice.” She grinned down at her working hand.

“I like your pants too.” His eye widened staring down at the womans’ bottoms.

Angel nodded in acknowledgement. “They belong to Jimin.”

“They look better on you.” He let out a small laugh. “It brings out the…” Hands raised make a gesture down her back. “…globe shape.”

“Man, I don’t pay you to let your one eye wander.” Taehyung announced a loud enough voice for the entire ship to momentarily stop what they were doing. “Get back to work.”

Angel couldn’t control the grin stretching out her lips watching how wide eyed the crew member had gotten from being called out. She watched him bow quickly and walk away to his original post. Though she could still feel a body padding closer to her until something brushed against her shoulder.

“Maybe you should come to the quarter deck.” The captains’ voice rung in her ears a lot closer than she expected.

Turning to meet his gaze, Angel nodded following up the stairs towards the quarter deck. A gust of cold wind flowed against her clothes and skin bringing the most refreshing wave of alertness. One of the advantages of being at sea is that no matter how hot the day is, the water bodes cool breeze. As opposed to standing on still land and almost dying in her corset due to lack of blood circulation.

“Have you been at sea before?” Taehyung broke through her calm silence. Though he absentmindedly watched the way her lips curled up at the feeling of the breeze.

“Few times.” Angel spoke in an almost dream-like tone. “My father owned a couple of ships and used to sail them out to look at whales.”

“Just look at them?” His brows furrowed.

“Mhm—he never liked hunting. Especially water creatures because my mother was always against it.” She had the strongest urge to hold her hands out and truly feel the wind brush across her entire body but she kept control.

“Ocean creatures are not one to harm without care.” Taehyung spoke almost in a solemn tone. So many pirates grew too confident, pretending they ruled the seas because they sailed a top it. They were always brutally reminded that the true Kings and Queens lay deep beneath the recesses of the ocean ready to teach anyone who had the gall to disrespect them.

Angel hummed in amusement. “That’s what my mother used to say.” Her mothers’ voice replayed in her head as she spoke, coaxing a small twinge in her chest. How she smiled through her tears before sending her off. How she saw her usually lively and bright body laying limp in a pool of blood.

“Hey…” Taehyung murmured under his breath, seeing the way her body deflated and eyes twitched. He reached out to touch her arm gently. It was difficult to realize from the way the woman held herself that she just came out of a traumatic experience. Losing one’s home forcefully and having nowhere to go. “Have you ever driven a ship?”

She looked over at the captain with a puzzled expression before shaking her head. “Why do you ask?”

Taehyung glanced behind him at Jimin who had been manning the wheel for the morning. “Come here.” He softly wrapped his fingers around her forearm, leading her towards the other male. “Take a break, Park.” He patted Jimins’ shoulder.

Jimin hummed in response giving a friendly smile to Angel before walking over to the deck to keep himself busy.

Angel eyed the captain curiously as he carefully pulled to stand in front of the wheel. “Are you sure about this?” She chuckled lightly.

“It’s not that hard.” He smiled, standing behind her. Taehyung could still smell tiny remnants of salt in the womans’ hair. “Our destination is only straight ahead.”

“You mean that trail?” She gestured in front of the ship. Two shimmery green lines to create a path in the ocean and disappearing a little into the horizon.

His stomach jumped hearing her mention the passage, turning his head to face her but the womans’ expression was casual. “You can see the trail?”

Angel looked back at him, a little confused. “Yeah—it’s the green path, isn’t it?”

“Yeah—yeah it is.” Taehyung didn’t know whether to smile in joy or peer further into her expression in suspicion. How would she see it? There was no mark at the back of her hands. Maybe it was somewhere else. Shaking himself out of a momentary daze, he focused back in front of him. “Yes, just follow the trail.”

Wrapping her hands around the wheel, Angel felt a heaviness to move against the smooth waves of the ocean. Thankfully the green passage was quite straight without any intense turns otherwise this would have been embarrassing encounter. A few moments passed before she saw his tanned hand rest over hers when a bend in the path came about.

“Try to move along with the waves while you steer.” Taehyung instructed in a soft voice with their lack of distance.

She could feel his hot breath cascade down her hair making it utterly difficult to concentrate on his instructions. But Angel heard enough to smoothly steer to the right following the bend of the shimmery green trail, looking magical under the shining sun. The ship almost peacefully moved like it was meant to welcome a straighter path as a stronger cold wind brushed her hair across her face.

Before Angel could fix it, Taehyung reached out and gently brushed the tresses away from her vision before lining it behind her again. The length went right down flowing to her lower back. He undid a small red cloth wrapped around his wrist before placing it behind her hair and tying a gentle knot to keep most of her hair pulled back.

Angel hummed, smiling while keeping her gaze on the passage. “Thank you.”

Taehyung smirked in response. He glanced over at the trail again to check if everything was in order before his eyes trailed down her long hair, unintentionally pausing just below the ends. “The pants do suit you.” He muttered before padding over to the side of the quarter deck.

Angel couldn’t help but let out the soft chuckle under her breath. Not the kind of pirate captain she expected. Though she’d happily tolerate this one over the others.

-

Another night fell and the Serpents’ crew finally saw the flickering lights of land civilization closing in on them. Angel stood at the deck, already hearing the loud laughter and cheering along with glass shattering mixed with the amazingly strong stench of rum. Even the crew members murmured amongst each other in excitement.

The ship docked with ease and a board immediately dropped for the crew to almost run out and greet still land again. She watched them already mingling in with the women dressed in frills, laughing in excited shrieks as they were grabbed by the hips. Eyes flickered over to the men singing in slurred voice near the docks, some sneaking under womens’ skirts but they only giggled before chugging from a bottle.

Every moment Angel caught, her feet planted harder onto the surface of the ship. Stomach twisting a little as she saw a few of the drunkards look her way and whisper to each other like mischievous bullies.

“We don’t have to go.” Jimins’ comforting voice rung in her ears. “I’ll stay with you here.”

Angel looked over at the male, grateful that he would sacrifice his time to rest on land for her. Except before she could protest Taehyung chipped in.

“Nonsense. You’re both going to enjoy the finest atmosphere of the Severed Tail.” Taehyung slapped Jimins’ shoulder playfully before flickering his gaze to Angel. “You’ll be by my side the whole time, little mermaid.” He held out his arm for her. “Come on.” He tilted his head towards the noisy dock.

Apprehension crawled down her spine, giving another glance towards the group of men who were murmuring but they seemed to disappear somewhere else. Angel let out a sigh and hooked her arm with his.

“That’s a good girl.” Taehyung muttered. “You’ll have a good time, I promise.”

The two had very different definitions of a good time. Considering hers did not involve this much noise and alcohol. Arm in arm, they walked through the thief infested streets of the Severed Tail, buildings ragged with obscene drawings, people exuding the most putrid of scents and eyes progressively fixating on her. It’s as if they could smell an outsider entering their place of lawless paradise.

She gripped onto Taehyungs’ shirt tightly, worried that someone might pull her away from him and the man would be too excited to notice. Angel saw the way he watched this place. Eyes lighting up in glee, a faint smile gracing his lips only getting wider as they approached an establishment. A tavern.

“Crown Jewel.” Taehyung muttered more to himself than anyone else as the most of the crew seemed to squeeze through the door. “Best rum known to man.”

Angel merely hummed in response unable to focus on anything with all the distractions creating havoc around them. Although at this point, it didn’t seem like they were creating havoc more so relishing in it like a walk in the neighborhood.

Walking into the tavern was no different. Except this time she heard more glass clinking and shattering, women dressed in just a thin cloth as a makeshift dress pulling a few men to an area behind the bar. Taehyung led her followed by the rest of the crew towards the private corner, as if emptied just for them.

The pair sat next to each other while the entire crew slumped on a few of the vacant chairs. In only minutes, a few girls came up and served them their goblets filled to the brim with a strong smelling liquid. The table kept shaking causing the liquid to fall over the cup. Angel rested her hands on her lap.

Almost immediately everyone went to drinking except for her. Taehyung chugged down his first glass like it was water and he had been suffering from thirst for days.

Looking around the crew, Namjoon took more careful but generous sips while Jimin took one sip and placed it back on the table.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, staring down at her hands. Now more than ever Angel wished she was just curled up in a bed and reading a book in peace rather than here. Perhaps it was a pretentious side of her. The people in the establishment looked happy, cheering and laughing along despite their antics looking utterly despicable.

Though the Serpents’ crew weren’t completely that way. Most of them were drinking and chatting along normally at the tables, Jimin was just as quiet as she was. Taehyung accepted another drink. She noticed around two empty goblets already with one full at the brim still.

“Drink something, mermaid.” Taehyung spoke, a slight slur developing in his tone. He pushed a goblet full of bronze liquid toward her side.

Angel gently pushed it away before shaking her head. “I’d like to be clear headed. Thank you.”

“This is not the place for clear heads.” He joked but left the goblet where it stood without bothering her further.

“Not the place for decency either.” Her eyes darted over to the men whistling her way, making inappropriate gestures. Angel shifted uncomfortably where she sat.

“Pay no mind to them, love.” He did not spare a glance at the scoundrels at the table a few feet in front of them. “They do those things from afar because they’re afraid.”

“Would you prefer them to come closer?”

Taehyung eyed the woman, only now noticing how she played with her shaking fingers and unsure of where to look. Severed Tail was not a place for delicate hearts and soft stomachs. It may be a safe haven for pirates but that meant not having laws in the first place to ensure that safety. Which meant who live within the law could not be granted that same safety.

“I’m going back to the ship.” Angel murmured, standing up from the chair and walking away from the group.

“Angel—” He saw Jimin from the corner of his eye trying to get up but not wanting to disrupt the relaxing atmosphere around them.

She tried to rush out of the tavern and to the safety of the ship as quickly as she could. But before even reaching the door, someone bumped against her shoulder causing her to stumble back. “Careful.” Angel murmured under her breath. No intention of the person hearing them but apparently she bumped into some kind of bloodhound.

The figure turned to meet her gaze. His clothed chest still glimmering with badges of all kinds but his face reddened and eyes bloodshot from the excessive alcohol. “You—”

“Sorry?” Angels’ brow furrowed as the male raised his pointer finger at her.

“I know you.” He padded closer to the woman until all her nostrils could catch was his rum infused breath. “You’re…your face.” He hiccupped. Then his eyes widened. “Your Highness.”

Her heart dropped to a pit, attempting to take a step but the man kept towering over her.

“You’re alive.”

“Leave me alone.” Angel turned on her heel to walk off but her arm was grabbed roughly to pull her back. Just as she looked back to protest, his grip clipped off her. Her line of vision now blocked with another figures’ back.

“The lady told you something, mate.” The captains’ deep voice vibrated through the rowdy air. In seconds, the tavern faded into a silence almost matching that for a royal banquet with a couple of people muttering to one another.

Now all eyes were on them and Angel wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and hope she magically transported back to the ship. “Taehyung, it’s fine. Don’t cause trouble.”

“I’m not the one who caused trouble.” Taehyung eyes’ pieced into the other male.

Angel held onto his arm gently, walking closer to him until her nose almost touched his shoulder. “Please don’t.” She whispered. “They’re staring, I just want to go back to the ship.”

Taehyung kept his deathly gaze on the officer who tried to his make believe pride while being unable to stand straight. “You’re lucky she’s nice.”

The officer scoffed.

Reluctantly the captain backed away and let the drunkard stumble to the side. He turned on his heel to face her now. Their distance had been closed off so much that Taehyung had to lower his head significantly to meet her eyes again. “I’ll come with you. I think it’s we take our supply to the ship.” He looked behind him and the crew members excitedly got up to walk to the bartender.

“I thought you liked it here.” Angel attempted to take a step back but something seemed to stop her from moving a muscle.

“I like what they sell.” Taehyung shrugged, glancing over at the bar. “We could take it anywhere.”

“Oh captain!” One of the barely dressed girls squealed their way, standing near the bars. “Are you taking us with you too?! Like old times?!” The entire group surrounding her giggled so loud it could surpass the chortles of the men in the corner behind her.

Angel raised a brow gazing over at Taehyung who stammered a little. “You like what they sell.”

“Not tonight, girls.” He chuckled nervously, clearing his throat. Taehyung leaned in closer to mutter near her ear. “They’re for the crew.”

“Right.” Angel rolled her eyes. She turned on her heel to finally walk out of the tavern while Taehyungs’ men carried heavy barrels of that poison on their backs.

-

Despite not drinking a single drop of rum, Angel felt a headache slowly pounding through her skull. When she reached the captains’ cabin the woman opted to grab one of the books on the right shelves. Mostly history but it was enough. Sitting down on the bed with the wall rested on her back, her legs hung over the side a little before she curled them in.

It was difficult with men whistling, laughing and singing consistently but at some point the girl had been able to tune them out. Fully focused on the books’ contents as she read about the daring adventures of a pirate queen. Aside from the constant drinking and playing around with prostitutes, the life of a pirate was an accelerating one. The travels, the action, the adventure and the freedom beyond the horizon. It was everything a princess barely had.

She trained to defend herself but always living inside the walls of the palace. She went to sailing trips with her father but only in their territory. They were always left to observe the horizon rather than go beyond it. Here, on this ship, the world seemed to be endless. Vast with so many islands no one had even explored yet.

The burst of the door opening broke Angel out of her daze, head shooting up to see Taehyung laughing like an idiot. Adorable but still an idiot. As soon as the male caught eyes with her however he stopped quickly looking behind him with a pointer finger pressed to his lips, shushing the crew loudly.

Door closed gently, Taehyung padded closer and stumbled to sit next to her. “What’re you reading?” He rasped.

Rum infested her personal space causing her to wince lightly. “It’s a history book about a pirate queen…couple decades before.”

“Ah—Meifeng. One of the first members of the Pirate Guild.” He slurred through all his words but at least they were intelligible. “Lucky enough to meet her—week before she passed away.”

“What was she like?” The book obviously spoke of one side of the queen. Meeting her in person must have a different effect.

“Withered.” Taehyung chuckled. “Rum and crime for twenty years takes a toll on you.”

“I can imagine.” Angels’ eyes flicked up and down his form.

“Excuse me but I’ll have you know—” He hiccupped before raising a pointer finger at the woman. “I’m known to–the most handsome pirateinthesevenseas…”

Angel hummed, smirking down at the book despite losing where she was. While she focused back on the writing, Taehyung quietened down significantly. Though the girl expected with all that alcohol he must have passed out. After a few minutes, she felt something tickle against her temple. Glancing to the side she saw Taehyung brushing the hair away from her face. Despite the pleased tingle in her belly at his touch, she still had no intention of getting pulled in when his mind was literally drowning in poison. “Stop it.” She murmured shifting away from him a little.

Lips parted, Taehyung noticed how she immediately closed herself at his sudden touch. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “Are you scared of me?”

“Am I concerned being next to a drunken man who can physically overpower me?” She met his gaze. “What do you think?”

The captain nodded in acknowledgement. A ship full of drunken men didn’t exactly scream safety for women. Relaxing back against the wall, he let out a deep sigh. “If it’s worth anything, I’d prefer to see you like and enjoy what I do to you.”

Angel scoffed in amusement. “You say that like it’s actually going to happen.”

“Is it not?” Taehyung raised a brow, leaning in closer. “Two young people sitting alone…no one to bother us…one bed…sitting so close together.” His nose nudged against her shoulder.

Angel let out a huff, trying to push herself off the bed as Taehyung chuckled.

“I’m joking, love. You are beautiful though.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Beautiful and intelligent.” He tapped on the book. “Almost like a princess.”

It was a vague statement but it still caused a jolt in Angels’ heart. She couldn’t hold off the information for too long. Especially since it didn’t seem like she was going to leave the ship anytime soon. “Taehyung, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Taehyung hummed, signaling for her to go on as he laid on his side. “What is it?”

“My home…is a kingdom—it’s called Owuhan.”

The captain laughed lazily shifting on the bed. “So you are a princess.”

“Yes—” Angel closed the book. “My father was betrayed and someone tried to take over the throne. They asked me to run to the docks where a canoe was while they took care of the problem but—” She absentmindedly scratched at the surface of the book, a burning behind her eyes. “I sailed out alone and the canoe caught a storm—and then you—” When she turned to face the male, his eyes were completely closed.

Light snored vibrated through his nose and his lips parted, a part of bandana covering one of his eyes.

The woman sighed, standing up and placing the book on the table. She turned to the male and reached out to pull off his boots from his feet causing a whine to pass Taehyungs’ lips. Placing them on the side, Angel moved to gently take off the bandana so his head wasn’t restricted. Grabbing the thin blanket from the end of the bed, she pulled it over his body and tucked it just over his shoulders. “Stupid, drunken pirate.” Angel spoke with a grin tugging at her lips.

NEXT CHAPTER >>

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Though winds of change are blowing wild and free - Part 3

Final part of this one. Don't panic, there's another instalment to the series coming soon where it'll all hopefully be sorted out.

I'm playing very fast and loose with the law here so basically nothing is true to life...just go with it.

(AO3 link)

Day 253

It’s a boiling hot day when they think their luck has run out. Aaron’s bent over a car, swearing under his breath and Robert’s filling in some paperwork for one he’s just finished as well as admiring his husband hard at work when he sees it.

“Aaron.” He’s whispering although there’s no one else around except the boss who’s in the office upstairs. Aaron looks up straight away, probably because he called him by his actual name. They use the names on the passports they’ve got here, but in his fright he’d slipped up.

“What?” He nods to the two policeman up the road who are heading their way. “Shit.”

“What do we do?” He knows the odds are tiny that they’re here for him but he can’t take the chance. He wants to laugh hysterically. It’s been so long they’d almost forgotten and now the reminder is right in front of them.

“You go out the back, just as if you were on a break.” He’s making a show of handing him a car part as if they’re just chatting even though his eyes haven’t left them. “Don’t go home, just in case. Go down to the rock, where we went last week, near the river. I’ll come find you.”

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t want to leave him here on his own, feels a bit cowardly to just go, but then Aaron’s nudging him.

“Yeah. Go on. It’s probably nothing but…Go.”

He thinks he makes it look casual enough, slipping out of the back door checking around before he breaks into a run towards the river.

He doesn’t stop until he reaches the little crop of rocks they’d discovered on a walk the week before. It was a good place to sit and they’d enjoyed the peace, as well as the shade from the unrelenting sun. Now he couldn’t relax, eyes darting everywhere.

Ever since his wobble a few months before they’ve been doing so much better, trying to act less like fugitives by hiding out in the cottage all the time, trying to get out and explore the area without drawing too much attention to themselves. Maybe they hadn’t been successful enough and someone had recognised him. He’d grown his hair a little, it was more like when he’d returned to Emmerdale now, although Aaron insisted it was styled a lot better than it had been back then. As Robert had told him it couldn’t have been that bad if he’d fancied him could it. He’d even considered growing a beard but the peals of laughter Aaron had gone into had put him off that idea. Maybe the hair wasn’t enough, maybe one of the tourists that seemed to fill the pretty little village had recognised him.

He’s worked himself up into a proper panic when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

It feels like an absolute age before he turns, slumping back on himself seeing it's Aaron. Still he checks for police, can't quite get his heart to stop thumping. It feels as though it's louder than the river rushing by.

"It's ok. They were looking for stolen cars," He shakes his head, sure he heard wrong. "It's ok, you're fine." Aaron's rubbing his back, holding him close and finally he's breathing slower, doesn't feel like he's about to pass out any longer.

"Stolen cars?"

"Yeah. That's all."

It starts all of a sudden, he doesn't know why but he's laughing, he's laughing so hard he falls back on the rock he's sat on, pulling Aaron with him kissing him like there's no tomorrow.

"I thought...thought that was it.”

"Me too." He sits up looking down at him. "I called Cain when they'd gone, thought I'd see if anything had happened."

"And?" They'd stayed out of contact since Aaron had got no reply from his Mum at Christmas, partly on purpose, partly because they didn't miss home so much if they kept out of touch.

"He didn't say much, but he reckons something is up, some copper hanging round Harriet. I don't think it's about us, he would've said, but it was weird."

"Cain is weird."

"Shut up!"

"So, what now? Back to work?"

"Got the rest of the day off. Told Paul you were ill. So we can do what we want."

"Just stay here a minute." Aaron settles back down in his arms. "You were so calm. I would've...no I did panic. If one day we as have to run I don't know if I'll be any use at all.”

"Yes you will. Ever wonder where your sweater is. The red one? Or your old jeans."

"Uh....Yeah."

"There's a bag n the car. With some of our stuff. Just in case…Just in case our luck ever runs out."

“You think it will?'

"Sometimes. But then I just remember that we've already had more time than we would've had if we'd stayed."

"Yeah."

"We've made it this far...no reason we won't keep making it."

"When did you become so calm?"

“Honestly? Getting out of the village feels like there’s a weight off me. I realise now I spent too much time worrying about other people, what they think or trying to be there for everyone. I miss them, but the obvious aside I’m really enjoying it just being us.”

“It’s not just me then? We seemed to spend so much time fighting over really stupid stuff, or getting dragged into Dingle family meetings over something that had nothing to do with us. Here it’s just you and me. The only thing I’d change is Seb being here.” He feels Aaron’s nod more than sees it. He’s been on the verge of calling Rebecca a few times since they’ve been here just to ask how he is or speak to him, but he’s always stopped himself. It’s too risky. However much it hurts they can’t see him. Really it’s the only thing he regrets about leaving. Once upon a time he would’ve hated himself for dragging Aaron from his family, and maybe he does a little, but their actions and the change in Aaron now they’re out from under the gaze makes it all worth it.

Day 365

Aaron’s on his way back from his daily run when he sees a strange car pull into the small drive at the front of the cottage. He couldn’t make out the driver from the distance and he speeds up the last few metres to see who it could be. They don’t know anyone here except the next door neighbours who welcomed them when they first moved in and since have kept to the odd wave here and there, and their boss and he knows it’s not him because he just passed the garage.

They’d made it a year. Some days he couldn’t quite believe they’d done it. Not just that, they’d made a life for themselves here. Oh they might keep themselves to themselves still but they had made the most of their time together and he could honestly say it had been the best year of their life together. Now he couldn’t help but wonder if it was about to end.

He just stands there as they start getting out of the car, hand on his phone in his pocket ready to call Robert or do something if he needs to, but with a sigh of relief he recognises the first person out of the car. Cain. Followed by Victoria. The third person is someone he doesn’t recognise but he knows Cain wouldn’t lead them into trouble.

He watches for a minute, as they stare at the cottage. He guesses Robert’s not indoors else he’d be outside already. He usually watches for him to come back from his run, old habits dying hard even here.

“Not today thank you.” He speaks when he’s not far from them, enjoying the way Vic jumps in surprise. She looks great though, she’s grown out her hair again and it’s back to being blonde. He’s still curious as to why they’re here and who this stranger is but he just enjoys the hug she’s giving him. He realises he’s missed her more than he’d thought. “What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Is it Mum?”

“Fancied a little break, nothing’s wrong, and your Mother doesn’t know we’re here.” Cain answers for her. “We need to talk."

“Right, and who’s this?”

“This is Ethan. He’s a friend. Is Robert here?”

“Somewhere.” He’s still a little on edge, he’s not planning on letting them near Robert until he’s warned him though. “I’ll find him. You lot stay out here until I call ya.”

“Aaron, come on.” He hasn’t missed that little whine Vic gets in her voice when she’s not getting her own way. Robert has the same one but it’s a lot more endearing in him.

“No. I’m not ambushing him like this, so you can just wait five damn minutes Vic.”

“There’s someone else you should see before you do.” Cain’s leaning in the car as he speaks and when he backs out Aaron feels as if he’s been punched in the gut, because in his arms is Seb. Older and a lot bigger but it’s his cheeky little monkey, and he’s here, in front of him. “Like I said, we need to talk.”

“Right, in that case you definitely need to stay here until I’ve spoken to Robert.” He glares at them all as he passes, only stopping to brush a hand through a sleeping Seb’s hair.

He lets himself in the door, turning to check they’re staying where he’s told them before going looking for Robert. He’s nowhere to be found until he looks out of the kitchen window and he sees him out in the back garden. He rolls his eyes fondly. One of the first things he’d done when the house had been decorated was set about a veg patch. It hadn’t really come to much this first year but he’d lovingly tended it and if the only edible thing they’d managed to grow was carrots he didn’t care.

“You do know it’s freezing out here don’t you?”

“Just tidying, that’s all. Were you talking to someone?” He straightens up, wiping the dirt off his hands.

“Er, yeah. There are some people here.” He sees the panic and kicks himself, “No it’s fine. It’s Cain, and Vic as well as an Ethan who I don’t know but clearly they do.”

“Where are they?”

“Told ‘em to stay outside until I’d spoken to you.” He shrugs and Robert just grins at him.

“Well that’s kind of rude.”

He shrugs again, he wasn’t thinking of them when he’d said it. “I wasn’t letting them in until I checked with you. There’s one other thing…they’ve got Seb with them.”

“What?” That stops Robert in his tracks and he looks a mix of excited and apprehensive. “Bring them in. I’m fine…really.”

He needs a shower from his run but it’ll have to wait. Whatever they have to say is obviously big, otherwise Cain wouldn’t have come all this way. He was the only one other than his Mum that had a way to contact them.

After they’re inside he can’t help giving them all a warning look, because he might be on edge but he can tell that Robert’s on the verge of panic, the unknown reason for the visit and why they’ve brought Seb making it all worse.

Robert doesn’t even speak, he just lifts a now awake Seb out of his sister’s arms, holding him close, whispering something the rest of them can’t hear. Suddenly all he wants is to be just the three of them.

“Cain, kitchen’s through there, how about you make a cuppa.” He stares his uncle down until he moves, ushering Vic and Ethan out of the room. Nothing is going to be explained while Robert’s still enraptured with Seb and they don’t need them for that.

“He called me Dada, Aaron.” He’s in awe and Aaron wants to cry because he shouldn’t be, he shouldn’t have to be happy that his son remembers him. “He remembers.”

“Course he does. Hey mate, what about me, remember me?” He gets a sleepy nod and arms reaching out for a cuddle and he takes him, holding him close like Robert had. He weighs so much more in his arms now, but it’s a reassuring weight and he doesn’t want to let him go. “There we are. So, first trip to France bug, how was it hmm? Did you give Uncle Cain hell? I hope so.”

“What do you think they want?” He shrugs, part of him doesn’t want to find out. It feels like their well constructed bubble has just been burst and he’s afraid of what’s next.

“Only one way to find out. Here, take him back, I’m all sweaty.”

“Go shower.” He raises his eyebrows at him. “What? I’m not above making them wait. Besides I’ve got a year of cuddles to make up for.”

“Fine. I won’t be long.”

He takes the quickest shower possible, feeling much better after and then they’re all sat around their kitchen table. It’s a bit of a squeeze but he’s sat right next to Robert, one as a united front, the other so he’s close to Seb.

“Right, what’s all this about? You’ve come here with no warning, with a perfect stranger, so it better be for a damn good reason.”

“Can’t we just want to see you?” Vic asks, looking put out at his bluntness.

“You, yeah. But Cain knows better.”

“There’ve been some things happening that…” This Ethan starts speaking but Aaron just holds his hand up.

“I don’t even know you are.”

“Do you always have to be so rude Aaron? We’re here to help you if you’d just listen.”

“Vic, pack it in. We’ve spent the last year looking at every stranger twice just in case so you just turning up with someone we don’t know is a good enough reason to be a little rude.” Robert shifts Seb on his lap so he can grab Aaron’s hand, holding on tight, grounding the both of them.

“He’s a solicitor. He’s been working on your case.” Cain takes over, and Aaron can see he’s fed up with all the drama and it makes him want to laugh. “There’ve been some…developments in your case.”

“What kind of developments? He died. That’s pretty hard to change.”

“Just tell us what’s changed, get to the point, the details can come later.”

“Right. Well, Harriet’s been involved with this DI, and he’s turned out to be corrupt.”

“And?”

“Seems like he knows he’s in trouble and he’s taking everyone else down with him, including DS Wise.” Aaron just sits there stunned. As much as he’d come to blame him for Robert’s predicament, he wouldn’t for one minute have thought he’d be corrupt. “Which is in turn putting various convictions in doubt.”

“Including yours Rob.” Vic’s sitting forward all eager, expression changing when Robert doesn’t immediately appear happy. “You can come home.”

[seijohsfairy]

you’ve been in love with kuroo tetsuro for years, silently supporting from the sidelines. it’s where you feel comfortable, felt- comfortable. so now that kuroo finds out you’re his most loyal fan?

.wordc. 9.5k tw manipulation, degradation!, corruption, bullying, dubcon/noncon, coercion, yandere kuroo, fingering, oral, Kuroo is on the world’s biggest ego trip

.author’s note. I finally finished this monster after struggling for so long ( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥) inspired by fanatic by @/jackrrabbit​. if you want to read an amazing bullying smut, it’s seriously perfection

+

An obsession. If someone asked, you’d never call it that. An appreciation of the sport maybe, or of the hard work and dedication of the players. But an obsession might’ve been more accurate, as you have been a fan for years now. At least you can admit it to yourself. Not a day goes by where you forget to think about volleyball, and more in particular, him. It’s not your fault it makes you so happy… It’s not at all, and yet—

You’re able to watch the young men through the open doors of the gym, the resounding bangs of spikes flattening against the polished floor filling the building. You huff out in the afternoon sun and hide under the sun-bleached, red parasol as best you can, before wiping a bead of sweat from your temple. Soon everyone will be pouring out of the classrooms, which brings a smile to your face. But for now, you spare another look inside the bright hall, following the red jerseys as they move swiftly around the court. The speed at which the balls connect with the floor have always impressed you, but your eyes are instead on the middle of the group, tracing the number one mindlessly.

“Senpai, are you alright?” your junior squeaks out. You flinch in surprise at her question, almost dropping the drink you’re holding in the process. Her short brown hair sticks to her face where a wide-eyed expression marks it, though a small, unsure smile stays in place. You quickly bring out a laugh though, waving off her concern.

“Oh, yeah! Sorry,” you put down the glass can and press your cool fingers to your forehead, smiling, “the heat just makes it hard to actually pay attention. Could you repeat that, please?”

“I’m just so glad you suggested this, s’all!” she beams, putting the last of the lemonade out on the table, each can in between ice packs. They’re already dripping, coming summertime close to unbearable. “My big brother always talks about the fanclub at home and that other teams don’t have a fanclub near as good as ours!” You smile at her while you pour chunks of ice into the white wine, putting it out too. The entire table is decorated with the team colors, flyers to one side, donation jar and cash register on the other, with all the drinks, ice pops and watermelon slices in the middle.

You even made all of the small, red cat charms that hang from the parasol yourself. A bit overkill perhaps, but no effort really feels big enough when you’re as dedicated to a team as you are, even if it’s embarrassing to say. But well… you’d do just about anything to support Nekoma and the man you’ve been crushing on for years now. While you peer up at the windows of the classrooms, mentally keeping track of just how much longer you’d have to wait for the rest of the fanclub to join you, you miss the proud look the younger girl sends your way. Yui, the libero’s younger sister, pulls her hair up in a tiny ponytail. “You must be so proud since you started it all by yourself.”

You look back down at her, flushing. “Of course I am proud of the fanclub, but I’m even more proud of our team. Y’know, I’ve been watching some of them since middle school and they all seem to enjoy it so much. It makes me want to support them in any way I can.” You’ve taken the requests of the team to heart to the best of your ability. Hopefully you can sell a lot, they’d really need new cleaning equipment and some of the shorts and jerseys could definitely be replaced with new ones.

“Of course Nekoma’s angel would say that,” a voice giggles, the black haired girl strolling up behind you. All the others walk close behind, right when the bell indicating the last class rings. The rest of the fanclub waves politely, many of the girls with their own healthy flush. “Make some space, Mrs. Kuroo, everyone will be getting out in a minute or so.” You give the other third-year a little poke in her side, looking down at the menu as you pick at the corner of the laminated sheet. It’s so silly, but the nickname makes you all warm inside. How nice it would be to actually be… well. You shouldn’t think so far ahead, or not ahead at all, since Kuroo Tetsuro has absolutely zero interest in you. The overflowing amount of love you have for him isn’t making up for anything.

“Don’t call me Mrs. Kuroo. It’s embarrassing,” you tell the raven-haired girl, glancing back inside the hall for just a moment to watch as said man gulps down his water, sweat drenching his hairline and dripping down his chin. “Even if I like it, he doesn’t know I exist.” Some of the girls coo at your admission, all of them at least aware that you’ve looked up to the Captain for years. Your friend sends you a knowing look, before cracking her fingers and getting to work on the cash register. She’s been trying to get you to say something for months, and with the last few weeks of high school growing closer and closer, you can’t even blame her.

But what would you even say to the guy you’ve crushed on for so long? After all, you’ve been in his class for three years now and he never once spoke to you directly either. He’d probably be creeped out by your dedication to him. Before you can think of any more, bunches of students start pouring out of the buildings, looking tired out by the day. When they see your stand, many of them light up, already taking out their wallets to get some cool lemonade. You clap your hands and look at the girls surrounding you, before nodding. “Alright, let’s do this! We’re going to sell everything out today. Yui, you get that side?” You turn to the first few customers and put on your best smile, handing them a menu. “Welcome to the Neko Outdoor Café! Would you like a drink?”

///

“Captain!” Yamamoto calls, pout more pronounced with each passing second. “Please let us take a break. Please.” He’s about to get on his knees and beg. “Come on, man. I need this.”

The raven haired man just lifts a brow in his direction, before turning his attention back to the bench so he can tie his shoelaces properly. “Shut up, you’re being noisy.” He doesn’t care to ask what the guy is on about, already more than annoyed at having to practice in this sweltering heat. Every movement feels slower than usual, it’s pissing him off.

“They’re going to sell out and leave, Captain!” the other tries again, tugging at the edge of Kuroo’s jersey like a child. In fact, he looks like he might burst into tears. The Captain ignores him.

“I’m sure they’re keeping some extras for us,” Yaku tries, smacking Lev’s hand away from his water bottle and downing the last of it.

Kenma hums. “You know they wouldn’t leave us with nothing, they’re all so thoughtful.” The setter is already trying to soothe a teary-eyed Yamamoto, while Kuroo straightens out to wipe himself down with a towel. “They probably have a whole pack of ice lollies stored away for after practice. Our cheer squad leader wouldn’t be caught dead forgetting about anyone.” At the mention of your name, the Captain frowns, the sound unfamiliar. “She even remembered to bring some mango for me last time, and I don’t even remember telling her I don’t like watermelon that much.”

“Who now?” Kuroo frowns. He pokes out his tongue to wet his lips, following his team’s gazes to outside the gym, where rows of students are lining up. He can just see the edge of a red table, curiosity peaked.

Kenma’s face blanks when he looks over at his long time friend. “The leader of the fanclub? She’s been to every one of our matches since like… eighth grade or something. How have you never noticed her?” Some of the boys turn to him in confusion too. Kuroo crosses his arms over his chest, before chewing on his answer. It’s not that he ignores anyone on purpose. But your name doesn’t ring a bell, neither does the description.

“Pretty sure she really likes you, too,” Lev suddenly says, getting up from his spot on the floor to bound closer to the door to watch past it. “She always wears clothes with the number 1 and your name on it. She’s very nice, she bought me chocolate milk after our last game.” He stares out the door for a moment longer, before perking up and waving for his older teammates’ attention. “Ooh ooh, she has ice creams for us, she’s calling. Can we please take a break, Captain?”

Everyone turns to the third year. Even Kenma is giving him an unspoken question with his expression. “Fine, whatever,” Kuroo just sighs, giving into their antics. “But after that we’re getting back to spike training and you better all jump higher than I’ve ever seen you jump.”

While waiting in line, he asks to point you out. You’re busy smiling at every single student that comes by, colored shadow falling over you because of the sun shade that is just as red as the rest of the table. Just as red as your flushed face, and as red as the shirt that you’re wearing with his name on it. You look kind, with a childlike joy on your face, innocent in the way you beam out warmth. And after staring at you for a while, you do start to look a bit familiar. Huh. So this is what his biggest fan looks like. He’s not let down, not exactly, though he does wish that you’d focus less on the lemonade and more on him as he waits in line with the rest of the team. But it’s understandable, you’re just trying your best. Even he can see that.

Suddenly, you look up from the cash register, having been shoved in the side with an elbow by your friend and in the split second he catches your eyes, he can see several emotions flash in them. The last one before you look away is definitely wide-eyed mortification though. You look away from him and turn to your friend, whispering something in her ear as your cheeks grow red-hot. You blank at her answer, before biting your lip. It’s strange, but something in the things you do are cute to him. How you nervously toy with the edge of your shirt. How you try to keep your eyes on the ground but glance back every so often anyway. How you put on a smile. You must really, truly like him. And he can’t say he doesn’t like at least that. That innocent expression on your face is to die for. Really.

After a minute or so, you seem to gather your wits and look up to walk from behind the stall. “Guys, you don’t have to wait in line. Come up here,” you wave them over, not looking at him at all. Somehow, this only makes him giddier, wanting to see you flush even harder. Maybe you’d pass out if he talked to you. Maybe you’d cry. Would you even be able to handle it if he got any closer? The smirk that clings to his lips is one of ego-filled happiness, he can’t help himself. Something about you makes him feel like he’d be able to break you with the slightest of pressure, and though he’s never quite wanted to control someone like that, he can’t say it doesn’t feel exhilarating.

Everyone moves out of the one line to skip to the front, as you busy yourself by glancing under the tables to pull out an extra cooler, opening it swiftly. That way your skirt pulls up insanely high, though you try to keep it down with one hand. Oblivious to what you’re doing, surely. His cute, little fan. He’ll have to give you a lesson on proper manners, but not now. All in due time. When everyone starts thanking you, you just rub your neck, straightening back up.

“How much are they?” Kenma asks, “I’ll pay. Is it alright if I get the money to you after practice though?”

“No, no!” you beam, “they’re free for you guys! I could hardly let our own team pay for some stupid ice pops and lemonade.” You don’t hesitate to smile at Kenma. Kuroo holds his tongue from breaking into your conversation for now, instead taking one of the watermelon slices and biting into it. You seem to sink into yourself a bit when he turns back in your direction, almost as if you’re trying to disappear into the background entirely. Would be hard though, with that bright a shirt. “We also have wine if the adults want any,” you continue, shooting Kai and Yaku a guilty glance then and trailing off. “Though that might not be a good idea if you’re still practicing.”

You still have yet to look back at him, creating a void of something in the pit of his stomach. Why don’t you want to look at him as much as he wants to look at you? “Are there any strawberry pops?” Lev asks, probably aimed at you but Kuroo’s already taking a step towards you before you can answer.

This way you’re not able to ignore him any longer. Your eyes are so big and stunned when you glance up at him, tilting your head back just so you can look him in the face. There you are, he thinks. You pull a lip into your mouth, cheeks burning with color. Your chest heaving up and down, heart clearly pounding so hard he swears he can hear it. And Kuroo is living for it, the thrill of making you so affected by his presence undeniable. He wants to be the one to make you so flustered, wants to be the one to taint it too. He does know that’s probably not normal, but it’s so tempting. He smiles down at you, watching when your lips tremble softly. Cute. He softly calls out your name, grinning wider when you seem to mellow for a moment at the sound. “Did you do all this yourself?” he asks, enjoying the starstruck expression on your face.

You have to take a moment to get yourself back on track, clearly. Understandable. “Mhm,” you manage though, looking anywhere but him again when you realize you’re staring. “W-Well, everyone helped plan it, of course. I just made everything they planned out.”

“Yeah?” His smirk has yet to leave his face, but if it could grow any wider, now would be the time. You give a shy nod, looking back up at him for a moment. “The lemonade looks good. The watermelon’s good too.”

You’re practically glowing at his compliment, taking a step back to roll yourself back and forth on the balls of your feet. He wants to place his hands on your shoulders to keep you still, but really, you might just faint if he does so he holds himself back. “T-thank you s-so much! I’m glad you like it. I hope you’ll be able to use the funds well, but if you ever need anything else, you can always ask me,” you lift your shoulder and smile at him for just a moment, blush still raging on your face. You blank then, quickly adding, “or any of the other girls! We’re all here to support you, so… p-please keep working hard and doing your best a bit longer!” You’re stuttering like crazy too. He’ll have to work that out of you.

Before he can say anything else, someone calls for your name, so you quickly bow and rush back to your spot behind the stall. The girls giggle and poke at you, some of them hardly subtle in their whispering and cooing. And Kuroo smiles, because he might have just found something new to peak his interest.

///

You couldn’t have known. Not really. You couldn’t have known the full extent of his anger and definitely not how it would turn on you. So why does it feel like you made a horrible mistake? As you are sweeping the last of the hall, you hear the familiar, resounding echo of volleyballs smacking against the smooth surface. It’s a sound that’s long grown near and dear to your heart. Still, you put the brush to the side to make your way to the gym door where it stands swung open. It’s a Friday. The Nekoma team doesn’t play volleyball after school hours on Fridays. You frown as you peek around the cold, metal door into the otherwise vacant hall. As the class representative this term, you’re basically expected to be the last one here.

The man causing the constant butterflies in your stomach is facing away from you, frustration seeming to radiate off him in angry, black swirls as he throws balls against the wall, making continuous tosses to himself. You wait for a moment longer, glancing back into the school building as you debate your options. Though you were unable to watch the end of practice, you saw the beginning. Kuroo was anything but the collected player he normally is, the sight of it making your heart ache. Very hesitantly, you knock your knuckles against the metal. You rather wouldn’t be putting yourself in his proximity by choice, last time enough to make you so flushed and flustered you were stumbling all over your words.

Still though, you just want to help him. Maybe you could make him feel just a bit better. “Kuroo-san?” you try softly when he doesn’t react. He catches the ball at your call, pausing for a second. Then he turns to you. A shadow on his face, tall shape seeming to loom over you even from afar. You dig your nails into your own palms at the sharp glare that’s sent your way, his eyes flicking over your entire body, coming to rest back on your face. He doesn’t say anything, so you try to gather your courage and clear your voice, taking a step into the gym. “I- Sorry, I heard you still practicing. Are you- I mean- I don’t want to assume or anything, b-but- you don’t normally practice on Friday.”

The brief flicker of courage you had soon sinks deep within the pit of your chest as the silence continues. He bounces the ball on the floor once before catching it again, lifting one of his brows. Still with that gleam in his eyes, the one set off by the darkness cast around him. Then he sighs, and in a second his smile is plastered back on. The smile you’ve grown so used to seeing from afar, but it doesn’t feel quite right. It certainly doesn’t reach his eyes. It looks a bit off too, lopsided like he’s trying to convince himself to keep it up. “You— Ah, you’re the… fan club girl,” he nods. He tosses the ball up a few times, seemingly thinking, before he clicks his tongue. His deep voice resonates through the empty hall. “Yeah, sorry if I’m bothering you. I wanted to get some more practice in.”

You wring your hands into the front of your shirt, mindlessly bunching it up in between your fingers. When his eyes are back on you, you have to fight yourself from taking a step back. “No, you’re not bothering me at all, I don’t expect any less from our team Captain.” You swallow. Then, barely louder than the thumping of your heartbeat against your ribs, a thought tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. “Would you like me to help you practice for a bit?” It’s a little thing, so small, and you’ve done it for Lev and Kenma plenty of times. But your hands shake when you ask.

Kuroo’s eyebrows pull tightly together, his expression looking so off-putting even when you normally think everything about him is beautiful. You think he’s perfect, even drenched entirely in sweat and with grooves dug deep under his eyes, exhausted to the bone, so why? Why does he glare at you this way, and how can you make your heart stop wavering in your chest? You briefly stand there to think about what you just said, trying to figure out exactly what you did wrong to make him feel even more shitty, but come up blank. He must have misread your tone of voice, or maybe you had a dumb expression on your face. Just some stupid mistake you made. That’s the only explanation you have why amazing, gorgeous, perfect star player Kuroo is acting the way he is.

“Do you even know anything about volleyball? You don’t look like you do.” The sharp comment feels like a slap to the face, and you take in a little breath as you attempt to rid the unsettling tension between you two. Maybe soothing him isn’t the way to go, but you know Kuroo makes himself feel better with practice and that is something you can do. For him, you could for hours.

“I— I can… serve alright,” you hesitate, looking from his face to his shoes instead. “I know a l-lot about volleyball and though I- I might not be the best, I’d still help, right?” His sharp eyes are still on you like an accusation, and no, no, no, this is all wrong but you don’t know how to fix it.

“Aah,” Kuroo coos then, chuckling to himself as he passes the ball your way, “you want to help me.” You barely catch it, clutching it close to your chest as he motions you closer with his hand. “O‘course you do.” With sheepish steps you make your way toward him because he asked, staying an arm’s length away for your own poor heart. Last time you were this close to Kuroo, all you could do was give some mindless encouragement, even though you were trying. You just couldn’t help get flustered back then. A cold shiver makes its way up your spine though, and you fight the pressing feeling to run. This is your favorite person in the world you’re looking at, and you’d do anything for him. You would, really. “Because you’re my fan, aren’t you?” he echoes your thoughts, and you bob your head in reply.

Your voice is barely above a whisper now, throat closing up when he leans in as if to inspect you more thoroughly. “Yes, of course, Kuroo-san. I’ve been a fan since I first saw you play a match back in middle school.” You wince at your honesty. Don’t tell him that, your mind screams, but it’s too late. All you can do is bite your lip to keep more from tumbling out.

“Yeah, yeah, so I heard.” He gleams, petting your hair and you try to keep your elation to a minimum, because his eyes are still just as sharp as they were when you first walked in, but butterflies flutter in your stomach. His fingers linger for a moment, the weight of his hand making your heart jump. It’s gone soon enough. “You in my class?” You nod eagerly, but while you do he’s already speaking again. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? You’re my biggest fan, huh?” He’s leaning closer again, closer, too close, almost like he’s going to kiss you and you might sink through the floor if he gets any closer.

You try not to let the faint smell of his cologne overwhelm you, his face flushed at the edges of his cheeks because of the exertion. You open your mouth to figure out a response again, but Kuroo is faster. “You come to each match, hoping I’d notice you, right? Begging for my attention like a little kid, wearing my name on your body like that. Don’t you feel embarrassed?”

It takes your brain a while to unfilter the words, playing and replaying them now that you take a step back. “Aren’t you embarrassed to be so obsessed with me? Such a cute, little fangirl, just begging for a look your way?” No. It’s not like that, you are not like that. You’re not obsessed, you just care a lot about him. About the entire team. “Pretending to be into volleyball so you can talk to me, right? Do you talk to Yaku’s sister so you can get to me? Do you talk to Kenma so you can get to me too?” You want him to stop talking, why is he still talking? Why is he acting this way at all?

“N-No, it’s not like that,” you bring out, flushing when his hand wraps around your one shoulder to keep you from backing away from him. He straightens out to his full height, towering above you and as you follow his tall body up to his expression, you hate how he is smiling. A loathing, off-centered smile that gleams on his handsome face. The feeling to run grows so strong in your mind that for a moment you can barely ignore it. There’s something wrong. But of course you remain, you just want to make him feel better. “It’s not like that at all. They are my friends. I love volleyball.”

“You love me, Y/N-chan?” he asks then, dark eyes glazing over.

“I— I’m your biggest fan,” you settle on responding. Wouldn’t it be too much to admit you love him, even if you do? He doesn’t seem to take it, looking down at you with thinly veiled irritation now. The fingers on your shoulder tighten, though you’re too distracted to notice. “I mean- Of course I… love… you, but not in an obsessed way! I just have a lot of respect for how hard you work,” you drawl out, throat closing up when the gleam on Kuroo’s face seems to drop in favor of something softer. Something like admiration. You used to love how he would wear his emotions on his face, but now it’s too much. He’s still not satisfied, you can see it. “And I’d do anything to make you feel better so-”

“Hah. Aren’t you just incredibly sweet,” he sighs, finally letting go of your shoulder. You can feel the weight of it long after it’s gone, warmth trailing down your limbs tentatively. You’re so glad you let out a trembling puff of relief. He takes a deep breath, before he smiles again. Softer, familiar, and your heart slowly comes back to life. This is how it’s meant to go, this is how you always imagined it as Kuroo leans down to brush a strand of hair away from your face back behind your ear, sweet and tender. Hair that you keep longer than you’d want because you know Kuroo likes it that way. You’re sure your stress of earlier was showing on your face, cheeks burning for attention. “You’re so pretty like this, my little fangirl. Mine.”

You don’t miss the drop in his voice, a possessive tone that seems misplaced. As he brushes a knuckle past your cheekbone, tingles pool in your belly. “I’ve had a really tough day today, you have no idea. But I’m glad you’re here now. I think I do know how to fix my shitty mood, actually!” He takes your hands in his then, enveloping them with soft traces of his fingers. He pulls you toward the side of the gym, dragging you behind him. Kuroo Tetsuro is holding your hands. It feels too quick, sprung on you so suddenly it makes your head spin, but they are just so warm around yours like you hoped they’d be. The dark-haired man looks back over his shoulder. “You said you will help me, right?”

“Mhm,” you smile, watching him, how his shoulders move under the red volley jersey and his hair waves softly with each step. And he’s still holding your hand. This must be a dream. You’re on a mindless path until he walks you past the lockers and the damp feeling of the shower air hit your face. That’s when you slow your feet and pull against him a little, blinking out of your daze to glance to the side. Kuroo turns to face you. “Hey, this is the boys’ room.” Your obvious statement makes him chuckle, one hand coming up to cup your cheeks and though it’s insanely overwhelming, you don’t have the heart to pull back. He squishes your cheeks together until your lips turn into a cute, little pout.

“You’ve never been in a boys’ locker room, sweet thing? You’re just that good, huh?” Kuroo stares you down with his pretty, golden eyes while you fail to answer. Isn’t being good supposed to be a positive thing? But he says it like it’s something dirty, like you’re not quite right and you can’t help the sinking feeling that fills you to the brim. He pushes the door to your side into lock, the loud clang making your heart race. When he turns back to you, the darkness in his face is what scares you most.

Cats don’t eat cats, do they—

He doesn’t hesitate to grab you by the shoulder and shoves you up against the lockers, your back connecting with the cold metal sharply. You wince, his hand still around your cheeks. It’s so much bigger than you, you realize, he’s so much bigger than you. That never scared you before, but now you’re painfully aware of the looming shape and the way he’s able to look down at you like this. You swallow and keep his golden gaze. But he releases his hold on your face to hold the back of your neck, long fingers splayed across the soft skin, before leaning down so far into you, you can feel the tremble of his breath on your face. “Would you like me to kiss you?”

Your eyes are wide, unbelieving. Of course you do, but… You wait for what feels like a lifetime, his warmth too close to you. You can’t say no, can you? So you nod and drop your shoulders, eyes fluttering closed. If he were to kiss you all those uncomfortable feelings swirling inside would surely vanish. Kuroo hovers his lips over yours, you can feel them so close, but no more than that. And he chuckles, tilting your head to the side with two fingers instead. “No. You don’t deserve it yet. Don’t you think you have to work a bit harder for it? I know you’re good at that.”

He walks toward you until you’re fully pinned to the cold locker in between his legs, as he connects his lips with your neck. His lips are so hot, like steaming coals on you, and you can’t help but grab onto his bicep for support. It flexes under your touch. He kisses down your throat and jaw, lips dragging trails of kisses and tongue carving paths down to your collarbones and to the edge of your shirt.

And you’re so overwhelmed that the person you’ve loved for so long is actually touching you, that you don’t notice how tight his grip is wrapped around your neck, fingertips pressing ovals into the expanse. “You just wanted this the whole time, huh,” he coos, voice sickly sweet. But when he looks up at you from under those lashes, the gold in his eyes has the sharpness of a blade, daring you to reply. You shudder when his hand drops down to drag your shirt up. “Bet you’ve had so many guys hoping that one of them would feel and taste like me.” He unceremoniously shoves it up from your body, over your shoulders. You look to the side where it drops to the floor, your school uniform a crumpled mess.

“Kuroo-san,” you bring out, self consciously wrapping your arms around yourself to cover up. You don’t like this. You don’t like him telling you that you’ve had people just to prepare for him, don’t like him eating up the sight of you like you’re a piece of meat and you definitely don’t like how he presses his thigh in between your legs to pin you up to the locker. “W-what are you doing?”

He huffs in amusement, tangling his fingers into the hair at the top of your neck to tug back your gaze towards his. “You can drop the politeness, silly girl,” he says again, letting go to brush softer circles into your skull. His lips brush over yours as you stand there, trembling, unsure what to do. How can you say no to him if he’s here, so close, with you for the first time in ever? He taps his fingers on your hands to make you release your hold on yourself, which you do with a bit more coaching. Maybe you just think this is going way too fast because it is him. The boy that offers his friends water before drinking himself, the one with the loud laugh that rings through the halls and makes your heart thump. The guy you’ve been head over heels with. That one.

This is okay, you say to yourself, calm down. His other hand traces along the bottom of your bra as soon as you drop your arms to the side, slipping a finger under just enough to lift it from your skin and you shiver. “You gonna take this off for me?” he asks, rubbing his thigh in between yours more. You can’t answer because you’re dropping your head back against the locker, overwhelmed and unsure still, with the lack of oxygen getting to you all you can do is let out a little whimper. You don’t know a lot about this, you’re sure he does. The hand around your neck drops so he can flip your skirt up, chuckling at your cute panties. You look down in embarrassment and attempt to shove the plaid fabric back down over your thighs but then he lets out a growl, holding it in place. “You wear my name on your body like my personal whore. Don’t play too shy to follow through.”

His long fingers trace over the edges of the panties, where you take deep breaths to calm down. You can’t help but push your waist down on his muscular leg for some friction, looking to the side when he chuckles. “You really are a little slut.” This time you shake your head though, pouting at him.

“I’m not, Kuroo.”

“Liar,” he breathes, pressing his nose to the crook of your neck. “You act like a well-mannered princess but we both know you want to be put in your place.” Not waiting up for a response, he lifts you by your thighs up higher, so he can bury his face into your covered chest, dragging his tongue over the one cup. You can feel the wetness of his tongue seep through the lacy fabric onto your skin. It’s warm and uncomfortable, his breath cooling your skin down instantly. “If you’re not going to take it off, I will,” he gleams, looking up to check your expression again. Ever so slowly he starts pushing the fabric up, not bothering to unhook the piece of clothing. Instead he toys with brushing over your pointed nipples, kissing up your sternum. His eyes flick to yours continuously, like he’s making a show of undressing you. He licks his lips, leaning towards you again.

“Kuroo,” you manage to mumble, resting your one hand on his shoulder to push him away from you. You stumble when you land back on your feet, looking down at the floor. Burning heat covers your entire face, from your cheeks up to your ears. It’s physically painful to be so near him, and the tight grip on your thighs isn’t helping. Your heart is pitter pattering so hard it might break through your ribcage. Despite how much you dreamed about falling in love with him, it wasn’t like this. “I don’t think this is a good idea. I have to lock up the halls and go home.” Your friend’s voice rings through your head then, something about bad guys and the way they prey on kind girls like you, creating cold goosebumps along your arms again. Kuroo Tetsuro can’t be one of those guys, you’ve looked up to him for so long. If he is, what would you even do? “I want to—”

“Don’t lie,” he interrupts, glaring up at your disapproval, “don’t ruin this for me.” Without hesitation he locks his mouth onto your exposed skin, rubbing his knee against your covered center, hard. It sends a spike of heat down your body. You breathe out at the rough laving of his tongue, only soothing after he sucked and bit the tender skin. His one hand reaches up to pull down your panties from under your skirt as soon as you’re closing your eyes, and though you open your mouth to stop him he shuts you up by pinching your thigh sharply between his long fingers. “I told you to stop lying to me. Whatever comes out of that pretty mouth next best be the truth.” He trails his digits up and down a few times, the slightest soothing to your anxiety.

“I… I just don’t—” you swallow, looking away from his eyes to focus on the shine of the lights. They make your eyes burn, but at least you don’t have to undergo his vicious glare this way. It really feels like he despises you for even breathing in his direction, though then why would he be kneeled in front of you. The conflict makes you nauseous, more insecure than you’ve ever been around him and your throat closes up a bit. When his stroking stills, you push through the words anyway. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

He laughs. A warm, bubbly sound against your thigh. “No one’s ever stuffed you with their fingers before?” He looks gleeful, nuzzling your hip in a too-intimate gesture. You’re his fan, but he barely knows anything about you. You slowly shake your head, cheeks warming. His hands start moving again as he shuffles closer between your thighs so his mouth is level with your chest. As he eyes you up and down, he giggles to himself. “Did my slutty fan get herself off on the thought of me? D’you beg for me when coming around your useless, little fingers?” You bite your lip, eyes flicking down at him when he calls your name. “I’m waiting for an answer~”

“I don’t—,” you bite out, flustered and feeling small. He must hear the edge in your voice. With a quick flick of his wrist, he brings his down on your thigh, pinching you hard for good measure. You yelp and grab hold of his head to steady yourself, before quickly pulling your hand away again. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Wanna try again?” he mumbles though, trailing two fingers up and down the crotch of your panties. It feels warm, and really good, but you’re still cold to the touch. Is this really okay? You doubt it. When he starts licking at the edge of your panties you shudder, letting your weight fall into the sturdy locker for support. “Hm, d’you get off to me?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth. You might have touched yourself down there once or twice, but in your imagination that was always long after he’d gotten to know you. In your imagination he was gentle, caring. Nothing like the impatient trailing of his fingers, like he can’t wait to play a game you never agreed to. At his golden gaze, you let the truth spill. “Sometimes,” you breathe, immediately hiding your face in your own shoulder from embarrassment.

“That’s what I thought, dumb girl.” He pushes your panties unceremoniously to the side to collect the slick there, grinning. You didn’t even notice you were getting wet while trying not to anger him. He doesn’t waste time taking advantage of this fact though. He spreads your bottom lips open with his fingers, looking up at you easily. His deep voice feels loud in the pressing silence of the abandoned gym, and you can’t help but wonder how much trouble you’d get in if anyone found you here. “Listen, brat,” he calls, pushing his lips to the top of your thigh to bite the plush skin. You jerk away from him with a cry, but he doesn’t let up.

“I’m gonna push my fingers inside that filthy cunny of yours, stretch out your little hole so you can actually fit something in there. ‘Cause I know you’re a good girl, so you’re probably gonna go braindead if I fuck you like this.” He chuckles at your hitched breathing. You can’t even begin to understand. The person you love more than life itself wants to fuck you? Well, his fingers are still playing down there, slowly pushing into you and they are thick, much thicker than yours. You can’t believe it. Kuroo Tetsuro wants to fuck you, in the boys locker room of the school gym while you should be long on your way out by now. No, you can’t. But you don’t find the words to speak up under his gaze, not wanting to disappoint him. If he notices your mental struggle, he doesn’t show it. “Then you’re gonna help me out like you promised by sucking my cock, right?”

You freeze up. You did say you’d help him, you said that didn’t you… But you didn’t know it would be like this, if you did you would’ve said ‘no’. You curse yourself for saying anything at all, trying to calm your heart as best as you can. You’re feeling so overwhelmed. By his touch, his presence, the situation, the stress put on your poor, frazzled brain. When two of his digits are halfway inside you, you let out a whimper. That’s at least three of your own, you already feel spread so thin. Your fingers find purchase in his soft, raven hair, needing anything to cling to. “Say, ‘Yes, Tetsuro’,” he coos, pressing a row of kisses over the front of your panties, chuckling at the little bow. But the sweet tone is taken away as soon as it comes. “Say it.”

“Y-Yes… Tetsuro.” He hums happily, shoving his fingers inside you in one swift move until his palm is against your center. Your legs almost give out at the feeling. “Ah- ah! S’too much, Kuroo.”

The raven haired man grins at that, curling his digits inside you and pulling them out just as quickly. Like striking a match. You reach up your hand to bite into it, hoping to contain your sounds. Your slick sounds ring through the empty locker room as Kuroo slides them back in and out at a punishing pace. “My dumb, pretty baby really is clueless, huh,” he sighs, long fingers sliding under your knee to place it instead on his shoulder.  It only debases you even more, struggling to stay upright as he brings his face in between your legs. When you whimper in embarrassment, calling his name, he scoffs. “You should let me play this how I want to, since you clearly don’t know anything.”

The curl of his long fingers brushing up against the soft, spongy part of your walls makes your brain numb. His words hurt. You don’t want them to, you wish they didn’t. “My dumb slut,” he hisses, before the harsh lines of his mouth are buried between your thighs. His tongue sweeps out to deliver a long swipe from his pumping fingers to the top of your slit, before swirling around the nub making you tremble. Your belly tenses, coil in the pit of your stomach growing irritatingly tight as he grinds his face against your pussy, obscenely slurping at the wetness. Your fingers twitch in his fluffy hair, attempting to comb through it best you can as your eyes flutter closed.

“Kuroo, ‘m close. Really close.” You can barely raise your voice enough to make it be heard over his motions, though he looks up at the call of his name. “I want to cum,” you say, “please.” He doesn’t still his fingers, but the twitch in his brows seems to indicate disaster, and you quickly bite your lip to think. “C-Can I?”

“D’you think this is about you, Y/N-chan?” He grins at your blown out expression, relishing in the wide eyes and bobbing lip. He uses his thumb to continue putting pressure on your clit, as he tuts his lips. “I’ll decide if or when you cum, because you’re mine. And when I decide to stuff this cunt you best consider yourself lucky, baby, that my cock is breaking open your perfect, little body.”

“Y-yes, but—” you bring out, ignoring the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You can’t hold it if his fingers only speed up their devouring of your body, mouth wrapping around you to suck hard.

“Don’t cum yet,” he mumbles, going so hard it’s making your vision sway. His tongue and mouth go harder, despite his order. And with mindless pleas you come around his fingers, shutting your eyes tight at the white splotches. Legs flexing and fingers tightening in his hair. You let your head drop as he works you through the feeling, until you’re pushing him off from overstimulation. Your cheeks feel akin to a forest fire when you open your eyes to his huff, tracing the lines of the hardwood floor under your feet. When he pulls his fingers out of you, you can feel some of the slick drip down your thighs and you instantly burn brighter.

But you don’t get to think about it, because Kuroo is straightening up before you, back to his overwhelming posture above you. He stares at you for a moment, before he leans in. Out of instinct, you lean back, away from his face when he wipes it. The glint in his eyes is a scorch mark on your sanity, his face so close to yours. “Can’t you listen to what I say, or are you just that cockhungry and stupid?” Your head is shaking side to side before you can stop it, hoping that you’ll be released soon. But you said you’d help him and if you don’t, Kuroo might hate you. You don’t think you could handle that. Rejection would’ve been better, after all. “Get on your knees and make it up to me.”

You choke back a sob at the order, looking up at him with big eyes again. You don’t want to, you don’t want to sit on the cold floor of the locker room where teenage boys drag their sweaty bodies— Kuroo seems to soften slightly at your expression, lowering his palm to your crown to pat your head, gently brushing over your temple. “You’re my biggest fan, aren’t you?” The low rumble of his voice right next to your face, his warm body so close and the curl of his pretty lips, everything makes you so docile. Dreamlike. “You’re really helping me so much,” he coos, and before you know it his mouth is on yours. His mouth… is on yours. And he tastes like you, and he’s kissing you. You freeze, not stopping him as he grabs your hands and loops them around his neck, his own picking you up to melt into an embrace.

Like two lovers in a painting, he claims your mouth with his tongue and curls your feeble body into him. So strong, with hard lines of his body that make your heart swell under your ribs. His hand on your thigh, the other on your neck, he kisses you and you think the stars might be exploding around you. He pulls back for a moment enough to breathe, before peppering another few kisses on your agape lips until you could turn black and blue from the bruising weight of your adoration. Kuroo brushes your hair away as you look at him, chest heaving against his each swell of your lungs. He starts peeling his lanky body away from you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought that you were my biggest fan, but if you don’t—”

“No, I am!” you squeak, grabbing onto his jersey to keep his warmth close.

The noirette gives a faint smile, shaking his head. You don’t stop to question him acting so different from before, since your greedy brain clings to every word. “It’s okay,” he mumbles, “I’m used to being taken advantage of by girls.” His eyes shift to the side, lips dropping into a downturn. “They tell me how much they care about me so that I’ll have them, then leave me. I know my teammates are always the favorites anyway. So I understand that you don’t want to do anything more, it’s okay.”

“No Tetsuro, I want to, I swear!” you blurt out, grabbing his large hand despite the jitters in your system. He gives you a slight raise of his eyebrow. “I want to— s-suck you off.”

He chuckles, gaining back some of the brightness to his eyes. “You can’t even say it without stuttering.” The hand on your neck slides to your shoulder, slowly pushing you toward the ground. You hesitate for another moment, before dropping to your knees when the pressure becomes too heavy. When you’re eye level with his shorts, you swallow, bringing up your hands. The fabric is pulled taunt, showing off your effect on him. Ever so slowly, you pull the elastic of the red shorts down, taking his boxers with them in the process. You push them down until his hard cock is freed, curving up towards his belly and twitching with anticipation. Kuroo just bites his lip when you look up at him. “Give it your best shot, baby.”

He’s hot and heavy in your hand, tip glistening with precum. You slowly start moving your hand down his length, but you’re clearly not going fast enough because his hand is back in your hair, yanking you closer to his dick this time. He presses the tip to your lips, and you whimper out as you open your mouth. He’s quick to grab hold of himself to push inside, too quick and stretching you painfully. He’s big and wide and you immediately know you’ll ache once this is done. But as he starts working himself deeper, your eyes fluttering at the feeling and focusing on not choking, he makes pretty grunts that you tell yourself make this worth it. He reaches the back of your throat with plenty to spare, and you bring your hand up to hold yourself on his thigh. It stings.

But he doesn’t stop, even when you whimper around him and push at his leg. “Take it all the way,” he grunts, cocking his head back. The noises you make only make him more vocal, but you’re fighting through the feeling of panic in your chest. Each time he pulls back more saliva messes up your face, keeping Kuroo’s attention on the pretty way you take him. “You think you deserve my attention? My dumb, useless little bitch wants my approval?” He grunts when he hits the back of your throat again. “Because if you can’t even take my cock in your mouth without drooling all over yourself, I don’t think you do deserve it.” He slows his hips when you make a throaty sound, fingers tangled tight in your hair as he pushes in until your nose is pressed to his skin, before letting you back. You gasp for air when you’re finally let up, holding a sob that threatens to crawl out of your throat.

“Kuroo, I can’t,” you bring out, wiping your fingers under your eyes to get rid of any tears, but he doesn’t let go. Your voice is already raspy, grating against your tender throat.

“Yes you can, you’re doing well.” He pushes his cock back to your lips and though you’re more prepared for it this time you’re still shocked by how big he feels. Spit seeps out along the edges of your mouth, tongue being pushed down and your lungs struggling. He moves your head up and down his cock over and over, barely leaving you enough time to take a couple deep breaths. He slowly starts fucking your face when the tears spill over your cheeks and clump your lashes, hissing when you gag on him. “That’s how you suck a cock, idiot. Can’t do anything right without my help, can you?” His words just make you cry more. He bruises your throat until you can’t take any more, pulling out of his grip despite the pain and falling back onto your butt.

“Kuroo,” you cry out, losing control over your own tears. Your voice sounds double, like it’s been split in two. “I don’t like this.” A little squeak falls from your lips, airways painful and ragged. “I want—,” this time you can’t hold back the sob, “I want you to be nice to me.” You sound so pitiful, even to your own ears. You’re crying. But the man you’ve looked up to for so long is calling you all these names, making you feel so dumb. Are you really that dumb for liking him, supporting him, being his fan? “I don’t wanna do any more.” Tears are flowing, wet and warm down your cheeks and neck. Stop, stop crying. You reach a hand up to smear them away, but in their place new ones still come. “Please, I wanna go home.”

“Shh, shhhh,” he hushes, petting the top of your head like you’re a well-behaving pup, and you hate how you lean into it. The idea of yourself makes you sick to your stomach. Why are you even letting him walk all over you like this? Is this really the amount of self respect you have? Kuroo peers down at you between his legs. “You’re doing so well for me. You’re the best fan I could ask for. I’m sure you can take a bit more.”

“No,” you squeak when he reaches for your face again, “it hurts and I don’t like it.”

Kuroo stills. Regards you with a long, drawn-out breath, before humming in what you pray is understanding. “Alright,” he helps you up from the floor, steadying you in his arms and moving you both to one of the benches instead. “I wouldn’t want to hurt my number one fan, would I?” He sits down on the bench first, pulling you to sit on his thighs facing him. You wipe the mess of tears and saliva away as best you can, watching as Kuroo slides you closer to him without a care in the world. And you want to be mad, you want to push off him and do anything other than sit here and take it, but you can’t. You can’t, because you’re weak. You can’t, because you’re an idiot fangirl, and he’s been everything you’ve wanted since you were thirteen.

“Push your legs together,” he orders, squishing your thighs and reaching down to slip his cock in between them. He fucks your legs with the last of his restraint, pace from fast to punishing, kneading the doughy expanse between his fingers and pressing his forehead to your shoulder. You can feel the warmth of his breath, the shudder down his spine and the tensing of his legs below you, but you don’t process it. Everything feels far away. And then he calls out your name, and cums on your thighs, spilling white all over your panties and skin. He kisses your neck, and your lips after that. And you just stare at the tiles of the boys room showers before he slides you off of him.

Your legs tremble. He quickly uses a towel to clean himself up before tucking himself back in, and smiles down at you. “Thank you so much, baby, that was perfect.” He leans down to press a kiss to your temple as he hands you the towel. “Clean up?” The fluffy towel with the red cat embroidered on it is stained with the cum you clean off yourself, as tears roll down your face. You loved him so much, but now you just hate him. Embarrassed, hurt, useless. Kuroo’s bright face as he talks is another slap in yours. “Lighten up, I’ll lock up the gym for you, okay?” He smiles when you lift your eyes to his figure in the doorway, your crumpled skirt bunched in your hand. “And don’t even worry about it, I’ll walk you home. It’s the least I could do for my fan.”

It is the least he could do.

You nod and put up your most convincing smile.

///

thank you so so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed. did this have to be so long? probably not. did i make it that long anyway? yes. mean kuroo will live rent free in my brain for the coming six months.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Baby Fever: Part 5

*Credit to gif owner* 

Word Count: 2.1k 

Warnings: self-doubt, depression, Sam, Sam being there for Y/n, a bit of angst and of course some fluff. 

Pov: Y/n’s 

Masterlist (Masterlist for series) 

2 months it’s taken Y/n to come up with a decision. She starts to retreat into her room. She worries that because she’s taken so long, Sam might not want to be with her anymore. Might not want to try. 

Recap: 

“I know that this is early and that you’re still hurting, but I want to be with you. I want this to work for you. We can go slow, we can go fast. Anything you are comfortable with I just want to be in your corner Y/n.” Sam said” 

Sam's words bounce in my head like ping-pong every day. I can’t figure out what I want. I sat for a month going back and forth. Going through the pros and cons of every situation.  

The good things that could come from this relationship would be endless. Sam being there and supporting of me. Sam being there for me no matter what is going on. Everything would be prefect, of course we’d have our fights and arguments.  

There was of course the cons list of this, this list be short but there were still things that could go wrong. I could end up breaking your heart, Sam could end up breaking my heart. I could bring all my past relationship issues into our relationships. I could damage you even more then you already are. I could break everything we have.  

Y/n stop!  

Make up your mind.  

So instead of stopping I laid held up in my room. Laid in my bed for a few days and then would venture out grab a cup of coffee and eat some food. As I made my way around the bunker, I sat down in the library. Thinking about it know it probably wasn’t the best idea.  

Because no later than ten minutes after I sat down Sam came walking into the library. He had a book under his arm, a cup of coffee in hand. When he finally pulled his chair up, he looked up straight at me.  

“Hey, Y/n.” Sam said sitting down at the table directly in front of me. It took me a minute to respond. Being so scared to answer him. “Hi, Sam.” I said taking a long sip of my coffee.  

“So, get this, I think I’ve found a hunt. Dean says it a go. I haven’t seen you in a few days figured you might have a cold. But now that I see you’re good. Right, you’re good? I was wondering if you had your stuff packed and ready for a hunt?” Sam asked.  

In a very rushed way. I stared at him and then shook my head. Got up and left him alone in the library. “Y/N!” I could barely hear his voice as I ran towards my room slamming my door.  

Falling atop my bed a let a small shiver run down my spine. I could barely hear the heavy footsteps of boots echo in the hall. A soft knock was the next sound I heard, and then the door clicking and Sam's voice.  

“Y/n what’s wrong?” He asked worry was starting to seep into his voice.

My face muffled by the sheets, pillow, and of course the bed. It was silent for a moment and then I felt the bed shift. The weight of Sam sitting on my bed brought my head up from the bed. I shifted and moved to lay on my back instead. Sam wasn't up in space; he was actually just sitting at the end of my bed where my feet lay.  

“Y/n... I know that things can be hard, but talking can make a few things better. So, what I am offering you is someone to talk too.” he said his hands laying palm down on his knees. I took a deep breathe in and then release it. Sam continued to talk. “I know that I asked you a while ago about being together.” Sam said looking up at me, and then back down at his feet. Trying to find the words to say to me I’d like to think.  

“Like I said we can take everything so slow, or we can go fast. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with everything we do together.” Sam said shifting so more of his body was on my bed. I shifted up giving him more room to operate with.  

Theres that word again “Comfortable”. Comfortable with what? Comfortable with being with you Sam? Of course, I’m comfortable with you, I just don’t want to be the one that ruins everything that we could possibly have together. There’s another word I hate “Together” But you know what’s funny I only hate it when I say not it, but you Sam.  

“Y/n, you've got to breathe for me.” Sam's voice said bring me back to reality. I guess I was thinking a little too hard because I was having a hard time breathe and it felt like... it felt like... “Y/n can you breathe slower for me, you’re having a panic attack.” Sam says.  

I took a deep breathe in and a shallow breathe out. God, I feel so drained. “Y/n. I know that you aren’t okay. And that’s okay. I know that I gave you a huge burden to give me an answer, but you don’t have to. You’ll never have to answer to me, Y/n. That’s not how a relationship works, when you’re comfortable we can work things out. Do you understand me, Y/n?” Sam said, holding me a little bit closer in his arms, brushing my hair down and rubbing tiny circles into my back.  

“Okay, Sam. Can you grab my bag it’s in the chair over there, Let’s go for that hunt?” I asked. Sam hugged me tighter, and eventually had to let me go. “We can go for this hunt. That’s fine Y/n.” Sam said grabbing my go bag and taking the time to shut my bedroom door.  

I waited for the sound of heavy boots to leave the hall way. I got up and got dressed in jeans and boots with my stolen flannels from Sam and Dean. I grabbed my phone and my headphones. I walked out and shut my bedroom door.  

I rode the entire way in the back seat of baby with my headphones plugged in and playing my music. Once in a blue moon I’d see Dean, or Sam look over the mirror and look into the back seat. I stayed at the motel room and did research as the two Winchester boys went out to interview people. They’d come back and ask me what I found. I told Sam and Dean and then went back to being quiet.  

The night before we went out to kill this monster. The boys thought that I was out, but I really wasn’t. I could hear them talking, they were talking about me.  

Dean said “Is it just me, or is there something wrong with Y/n?” Then Sam answered, “Well... I guess I should tell you, but I asked her to be with me. And that was a month ago. Honestly I think she’s having a hard time making a choice.” Sam said.  

I heard the shuffle of papers and Dean's chair make a horrible sound on the floor. “I’m sorry what!” He yelled. “Be quiet Y/n’s asleep. And yes, I asked her to be together with me. Now before we left for this hunt, she had a panic attack. I think a lot of things are going on with Y/n. Don’t be a jerk and say anything to her tomorrow okay Dean.” Sam said in a hushed tone.  

“Fine” I heard Dean say before I saw his shadow pass by the window and he walked into the bathroom.  

When we finally killed the monster, I was still quiet. Sam pulled me to the side and asked me if I was hurt. I just shook my head and slipped away from his grasp and got into the back seat. “I think you outta wait this one out Sammy.” I heard Dean say before I put my headphones in.  

I just saw Sam roll his eyes and walk away from his older brother. We rode to the motel in silence, the only thing the two brothers could here was my music. I pretty much stayed that quiet as we packed out things and Dean went to give our keys back to the pretty blonde desk lady.  

Sam caught my arm as I went to leave the room. My bag slipping from my grasp. I pulled my headphones off and let Sam say whatever he was going to say to me. “Y/n please say something. I don’t like the quiet you and to be honest neither does Dean. What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?” Sam asked me. I shrugged my shoulders and I left Sam's grasp grabbing my bag and walking away from him.  

I passed Dean on my way to the impala. He gave me a small smile, and I shrugged my shoulders to him as well. I was in no mood for anything. This lasted for another month before I was able to get out of my head.  

One day I just woke up and everything seemed better, I won’t say that it was prefect but it wasn’t worse. I made coffee that morning pulling three mugs for all of us. Making a huge breakfast. One by one Dean was the first to make his way into the kitchen I bet by the smell of coffee and bacon.  

“Your coffee is sitting at your normal spot; I’ll bring your plate over with me.” I said as I saw Dean walked in. I gave Dean his plate, and sat down in front of him. “What’s been going on with you lately?” Dean asked stuffing his face with pancakes and bacon. That was odd that he asked me that but I followed along.  

“I guess I’d have to start from the beginning, but that’s a long story. So, I tell you the short one. Yeah.” I said to Dean. He just shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. “So, I like Sam, and Sam likes me, but my past relationship end miserably and usually are my fault. So, when Sam asked me to be with him, I felt like I was going to ruin everything. I stayed quiet and was alone for so long, because I was trying to weight it all out in my brain. I want to be with Sam. I know that now, I just didn’t and don’t want to ruin what we already have now.” I said, catching my breathe and taking a sip of my coffee.  

Dean smiled, and looked over my shoulder. There was Sam smiling much brighter than Dean. “I’m guessing you heard everything I just said?” I asked. Sam came walking to the room and looked over at Dean. Dean got up and took his plate with him. “Thanks for the bacon, Y/n!” He yelled as he walked away. Sam down in front of me “Yeah I heard you. You know I don’t think that this will end miserable. I don’t you have anything to worry about. I don’t think you’ll ruin this” Sam said pointing at the two of us.  

“And I’m glad you want to be together with me, because I want to be with you more then you could ever know. Now come over here and let me kiss my girlfriend, right?” Sam said shyly. I got up and rushed over to the other side of the table and was carefully with jumping into Sam's lap. Our lips met with such a great force, but it wasn’t one that was strong and over-powered by the need to have each other. It was a kiss that was forced by true love and admiration for the other person.  

This was something that was going to be prefect. I really can’t wait for this to get even better. “Do you want breakfast? I made your vegan bacon and an omelet for you, Sam?” I asked him. He shook his head and I got off his lap, as I walked away, he lightly slapped my ass.  

I just giggled and grabbed his plate, along with coffee. “There you go baby.” I said laying his plate in front of him and sitting across from him. “DEAN? Do you want more bacon?” I yelled. Not even a second later Dean was in the kitchen with his plate in hand and vigorously shaking his head for more bacon.  

Sam talked as I loaded Dean’s plate up with more bacon than any average person would ever eat. “What do you say we move little by little your stuff into my room, or we can do it the other way?” Sam said. I gave Dean his plate back and he kiss my cheek and said “Thank you” in to my ear.  

I sat back down and thought about it. There was no longer need to doubt everything that was going on. Sam was safe with me, and I was safe with Sam. “I kind of like your bed a lot more then my own. So, we can move my things into you...... our room!” I said a smile plastered on my face.

Completed on: 04/06/2021   

[3pirouette]

Fic: The Honey Trap (3/?)

Title: The Honey Trap

By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette

Disclaimer: They're not mine.

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :) 

Story Summary: Peggy’d lost count. She wasn’t sure if she was a double or triple agent at this point, and in the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of this alive.

A/N: While I'd hoped to keep up the updates every week, RL is not cooperating. I'm still going to update as often as I can, and the story's not abandoned. Just going to be a little slower than expected. This chapter is a direct continuation from the last.

~*~

Peggy was aghast.

She’d made a loop around the commissary, stopped at the supply tent, chatted with a nurse, all the while very carefully being very, very obvious that she’d been following Steve as he moved about camp. And she was absolutely not careful when she slipped into his tent in full view of half a platoon ten minutes ago.

Peggy sat next to him on his cot, quiet. Steve couldn’t help but fidget, turning the compass over and over in his hands. “I guess it’ll…”

“They’re morons, all of them.” Peggy said loudly and suddenly. She turned to Steve, eyes bright. “I never would have pegged them for that, but goodness. The lot of them!”

“What do you mean?” Steve pocketed the compass, turning to her.

“Well, had I known how easy it would be to slip into your tent without anyone raising the alarm I certainly would have done it before this.” She laughed and turned to him, playing with the collar of his shirt. “And I certainly would have done it quite often.”

A blush crept up his cheeks as his hands fluttered around her hips. “Peg, we shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what?” She refused to be chastised and leaned forward to kiss him quickly. “In a matter of days, I’ll be back in London and you’ll be god knows where and we’re going to have to pretend this is all real. Who knows when we’re likely to see one another again?” She kissed him again, softer this time, and his hands wrapped firm around her. “Besides, if those lunks out there are stupid enough to miss me walking in here with you—”

“Maybe they’re smart enough to keep their mouths shut,” Steve rebutted as he gave in and kissed down her neck.

“In either event,” she lifted his face to look in his eyes again, “we should be smart enough to take advantage.”

~*~

It was Bucky, surprisingly, that was waiting for her when she emerged from Steve’s tent. He stepped out from the space between the canvas two tents down and fell into step with her, eyes dark and hands in his pockets.

She and Steve hadn’t actually talked about what he might tell his best friend, because in theory he couldn’t tell anyone anything. Neither of them could. She kept moving, Barnes keeping pace with her, until she’d managed a loop of almost the entire base without shaking her silent shadow. Finally, she walked out past the mess, stopping only when they were afforded at least some privacy.

“Well?” She finally asked, eyeing him and crossing her arms smartly.

Bucky shuffled his feet then looked up at her, face tight. “What kinda game are you playing?”

“Game?” she asked, incredulous. If anyone should have known just how real their feeling were, it should have been Bucky.

He shook his head and looked away. “The idiot’s head over heels for ya. You have to know that.” He looked at the ground and huffed a heavy sigh. He was caught between anger and disappointment when he looked back up at her. “You start breaking regs, he’s gonna follow right behind and one of you is gonna get hurt. Or worse: court martialed.”

Peggy started to reply, but he held his hand up. “Nah- I don’t… I don’t want to hear it. I’m happy for him. For you. And if this was any other place or time, I’d be shoving the two of you together like ya wouldn’t believe.” He shook his head sadly. “We’ll cover for you two as long as we can, but you know just as well as I do that Phillips and the rest of those higher ups can only turn a blind eye for so long.”

Bucky leaned down, as he started to move away. “Please don’t mess with him, Peg. You might be strong enough for it, but he’s still that 98-pound dumb struck kid inside that shell.”

All the bravado she’d felt at sneaking into Steve’s tent left her as Bucky walked away. Her stomach sank, heavy with the thought that Steve had the very real potential to be hurt in all this. Being undercover was never easy, especially when it meant faking relationships or allegiances, but Steve would be very aware of her playing house with another man, of her pledging her loyalty to the very organization he was laying his life on the line to fight.

She knew, when this was all over, she was going to have to mend some fences with some friends she would have to deceive, the Howlies high on that list. She just hadn’t considered, until this moment, that she might have to fight to regain Steve’s trust, as well.

She’d never even thought until now that she might lose it.

~*~

The idea that she’d be hurting Steve kept her up all night, tossing and turning in her bed. She thought about getting up, slipping out and sliding into his tent under the cover of darkness, but Bucky’s words, his face, were caught on a loop in her brain.

Being caught would fuel the fire. But up until now they’d been very careful about their relationship, about finding very private moments to share a kiss or an embrace. Steve had fairly romantic, if somewhat conservative, views about how she should be treated before they could be even publicly dating, and she’d done her best to respect that.

She’d never wanted to hurt him.

Steve seemed so strong. So confident. Even when she first met him, there was a strength to him that transcended his small body.

Somehow, she always imagined he’d end up hurting her. She dreamt of him walking away, one of the showgirls from the USO on his arm, or leaving because she wanted a career and not to be home taking care of kids. She had nightmares of him laughing at the end of the war, walking away with gaggles of fans under each arm once he realized he could have his pick of the bunch as Captain America. Peggy heard the words of other men come out of his mouth in her darkest moments, men from her past that called her names she didn’t like to repeat in polite company.

Somehow, she always imagined she’d be the one left behind when he realized all the doors his transformation would open up to him.

Peggy waited until sun up and slipped out to the mess, eating but not tasting her ration before she went to find him. She caught him just as he was leaving his tent, and with the tip of her head, he followed her.

“Morning…” he started cautiously, seeing how wound up she was. “Newsreel guys will be here any minute, so—"

She cut him off. “I didn’t sleep at all last night and it was Barnes’ fault.”

Steve watched the nervous energy pour from her in the way her fingers kept fidgeting at her sides, the way her breath came just a little faster. He shook his head and huffed a frustrated sigh. “What did he say?”

She thought about lying, turning right around, and not having this conversation. She shook her head, stepping just a little closer to whisper. “He made me realize how hard this is going to be on you.”

“Peg—”

“No,” she stopped his interruption, taking his hand. “You’re going to have to see me lie, you’re going to see me pretend to love another man and pretend to fight for an ideology that would have the world burn around us.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she held his hand tight. “I know it won’t be easy for me,” she finally looked up at him, “but until yesterday I hadn’t thought about how it might be for you.”

She stepped closer, taking both hands and framing his face gently, looking deep into his eyes. He held her gaze, never wavering, as she spoke. “I need you to know I love you. I love you, my darling, and no matter what I say, or what I have to do out there, or how long we’re apart, that will not change.” She took a slow, deep breath. “I don’t expect it should be easy when it’s all said and done, but…”

He smiled as she stuttered and wrapped his hands around her cheeks, eyes bright. “I love you, too, Peg.” He smirked when the anxiety left her and relief flooded her body at his words. “I know it’s going to be hard, being apart, but that won’t change for me, either. We’re going to make it through all of this, somehow. And I’ll see you soon. As soon as I can, first chance they’ll let me, ok?”

He leaned down, kissing her gently, and though Peggy felt a lot better, she still felt the tiny stirrings of fear and guilt. “Somehow,” she whispered.

~*~

He held her hand tight as they stepped through the low brush, moving to the tiny outcropping of trees they’d claimed as their own since they’d been at this base as the sun set low.

It was ridiculously easy to get the compass in front of the cameras. The newsreel team, knowing they had a great piece of gossip on their hands, made an effort to keep Phillips as preoccupied as possible when that little bit of footage came up, making it easy for Phillips to “miss” it as he approved the footage.

Meanwhile, Steve and Peggy snuck in as many moments alone together as they could in the last few days, knowing indulging would help their case in the long run. Peggy never mentioned to Steve that it helped soothe her fear that when all of this was over, she’ll have lost him.

Steve leaned back against a large pine, pulling her into his arms. “How long do you think we have?”

“Sixteen minutes before the next patrol,” Peggy answered as she kissed him, fingers running through his hair, “give or take.”

“I meant,” he lifted her from her feet with a smile and let her wrap her legs around his hips as he turned, pressing her back up against the tree, “how long do you think we have before they transfer you?”

Peggy hummed as he started kissing across her collar bone. “A day, maybe two at the most. I think they start showing it tonight in London.”

“I still don’t like this,” he muttered, pausing his kisses and nuzzling into her neck. “The idea of you out there, with Hydra…”

Peggy pressed him back. “I’ll have you know I was fighting Hydra long before you came along—”

“I know.”

“—and I can take care of myself.”

He was chastised, but looked at her earnestly. “You’re right. I’m being—”

“Chauvinistic?” She quirked her eyebrow at him and shook her head. “Overprotective? Pigheaded?” She shook her head, sighing as her temper softened. “It’s all dangerous, Steve.”

He moved a hand to cup her cheek, drawing his thumb up over her cheek. “I still have a way with words, huh?”

She smiled at that. “You still talk to me about as well as you did that day in the car.” She pecked a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Lucky you, I find that endearing.”

He returned the gesture. “Lucky me, indeed.”

“Come along, then,” Peggy gave a gentle tug to his head, angling him back to her neck. “We’ve got to make the most of what we have left, and I estimate we’re down to fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

~*~

“This is it.” Phillips was calm, just the way he always was before he sent his troops into battle. Peggy found it reassuring and frightening at the same time. “If you have any doubts, I need to hear them right now.”

Peggy looked at Steve, his blue eyes pleading for her to call it, for her to stop this whole thing. But she knew he understood, just as she did, that despite the risks, there could be a greater reward.

“No doubts.” She stood tall, shoulders back. She knew this was going to hurt, no matter how fake it was.

“Son?” Phillips looked at Steve, eyes just as steeled.

“None, sir.” Steve shook his head and handed over his compass.

The speed with which Phillips changed gears and started yelling startled them both. They all knew it had to be a show, and had to be believable, but Steve was unprepared for the way Phillips let fly, and for how loud he was.

The Colonel, as ever, had known what he was doing. Within seconds, Steve could see little eyes and ears at the edges of the tent where the flaps didn’t quite close, hoping to get just a snippet or two of what the man was saying.

Peggy bit her lip, listening as Phillips let loose words and accusations he’d never used with her, but had always been quick to the lips of other men around female officers.

Neither was ready for the way Phillips took the compass and threw it like a fast ball out of the tent and into the mud.

“What, Carter?” he asked harshly, his voice still booming. “You gonna cry now?”

Her lip quivered. She wanted to. And she could see standing as close to him as she was, that in his eyes, Phillips regretted everything he was saying. “No.”

“No, what?” He let loose.

“No, sir!” She fairly yelled back, a tear slipping from her eye.

At that he winced. He stepped back, took a deep breath, and pressed on. “And you, Rogers.”

Steve said nothing, just swallowed heavily.

“I never expected anything out of you in the first place. How nice of you to not disappoint.” Steve hung his head, the words cutting deep. “Latrines. Now. You’re digging and cleaning them until you hear otherwise from me, got that?”

“Yes, sir.” Steve parroted back, his voice loud but broken.

“Just because you look good in tights doesn’t mean you’re worth more than shit around here.” Phillips shook his head, lips pressed tight. “And you.”

“Latrines as well, sir?” Peggy asked, trying to sure up her voice the best she could.

“You think I’m a damn fool who was born yesterday?” He shook his head, hands on his hips, the steam rolling out of him. “Go pack your things. You’re on a transport in one hour. Because you’re a lady you get a nice, cushy, office job back in London. I’m sure the typing pool will benefit greatly.”

Phillips’ head fell, he couldn’t look at either of them. “Well, what are you waiting for?” He bellowed. “Go!”

Steve pretended not to see the men scurry away from the tent as he exited. He couldn’t help but look at Peggy as she followed him out. Her eyes were full of tears he knew she would try desperately to keep from falling.

Peggy stopped, crouching in the mud to pick up his compass. She pulled out a handkerchief from her back pocket, cleaning it the best she could before she handed it to him, avoiding his eyes and using the cleaning an excuse to get her emotions back under control.

Steve stuttered, unsure of what to say. Phillips had cut them both to the quick, even if it was for show. “You, uh… you want help with your trunks?”

“I can manage,” she whispered, eyes still on the handkerchief in her hands.

Steve shoved the compass in his pocket, looking around. The men who had been listening at the tent had scattered and they were, by all appearances, alone. Not that it mattered anymore. For better or worse, for real or for cover story, they were no longer a secret. “Peg,” he pleaded, taking her hands in his, “look at me.”

She huffed out a breath and looked up. “Harder than I thought.” She nodded quickly. “I’ve... I have to…” She tilted her head towards her tent. “Soon,” she whispered, leaning into him. “Somehow.”

“Somehow,” he parroted back. He wanted to kiss her, but knew he couldn’t. There was just one piece left of the puzzle. He took a deep breath. “Hard as you can, ok?” His whisper was as quiet as he could make it. “Don’t hold back.”

Peggy steeled herself, taking short deep breaths. She pushed away, hurt that was real for the both of them written plainly across her face. “This is all your fault, Steve Rogers!” With a cry she wound up and slapped him, hard, across the jaw.

Steve cradled his cheek as she turned, stomping away.

He hated that this was going to be his last memory of her for a long time. He just kept telling himself that he’d see her soon. Soon.

Bucky stepped up next to him, slinging his arm around his shoulder. “What the hell happened, Steve?”

Steve just shook his head. “Hell if I know.”

“Come on,” Bucky turned him around. “We can go get some wax or something to stick in your nose so that super soldier sniffer of yours doesn’t lay you out in the latrines while you tell me all about it.”

[arkt-nehrim-archive]

                            A Story in Spring: Renewal {2/3}

A chill, gentle breeze rustled pleasant ambience out of the surrounding evergreens, peace nestling the hearts of those who occupied one of many small glens hiding away between the rough, rocky terrain of the Northrealm's Darlan County. 

Arkt remained still, relaxed with his eyes veiled as he peered across the surface of a still frozen lake- only a stubborn, thin layer of ice where the cold winds could touch the surface. He released a tiny ball of golden light to float over the little lake, joining many others to dance with twinned reflections on the ice, all to satisfy his idleness.

While watching them bob and sway of their own accord, his thoughts could not help but meander to his own twinned shadow; the woman settled behind him in a manner most of Nehrim would consider rather intimate, her legs tucked under his arms so her form was near flush to his back, granting close and easy access. She of course, remained well occupied with what had commanded her attention for some weeks now, the fruits of her labors showing clear as what was once scorched bone was now a beautiful set of feathered wings painted in clashing tones of iridescent black and silver; yet small, not serviceable for flight, but she had steady growth well in hand.

Wisps of gold and silver intertwined between pulsing circles of light as Lithirill remained focused, but her strain clearly showed. Much as she had been vigilant in knowing the signs of Arkt reaching his limits when this arduous process had begun, he too had grown wise to her tells. While fully revitalizing bone, and reconstructing flesh had been far more taxing than the simple act of regrowing feathers, she had still been weaving her magics for a pair of hours. She hid it quite well, but she needed a break.

He'd turn his head to watch her, a small unbidden smile crossing his features as he admired all he could see; the intensity of her focus, the fascination that never faded, the relief that she had made it well past the riskiest parts. His eyes fell to her fingers stroking the soft plumage at his shoulder, speaking gently.

"Hanging in there?" 

Peridot hues shifted slower than usual to meet circles of warm gold. Cradling a wing in her hand, she tilted her head, letting her gaze drift back to the figurative sea of silver she'd not expected when she first saw them emerge from otherwise dark feathers. "Well enough."  she replied, sounding more out of breath than she would've liked, "A little sore, given our arrangement, but I'll manage. I've only another row before-" He watched her sway a bit in place, the effort to speak and cast clearly a bit too much. He'd only shake his head, supposing he should be flattered she continued to be willing to push her limits- but he'd not let her do it when bereft of sound reason. A singular act of will fettered her spells, the myriad pulses of light fading. Before she could say anything in retort, he squeezed her calf, seeing the entirety of her leg shift up as she drew in a breath. "Too much longer of that and we would be trading places on who was tending who.~" he continued, the expression of entertainment growing on his face.

Overcoming the sensation of her spellwork coming to a halt so quickly, she settled his wing upon the grass and fumbled with her flask, taking a swig of ambrosia, eye twitching in brief disgust at a taste she'd never fully get used to no matter how hard she pretended to stomach it. To save Arkt the misfortune of smelling her breath, she rummaged into a pocket pouch and plucked free a bit of candied sugarmint, pressing one to her tongue and offering another to him. He only raised a brow, seeing her hum with a chuckle as she rolled the candy over her tongue a few times.

"And here I thought I was the mender, well within my scope of knowing precisely when to halt my machinations." she answered, loose fingers idly playing with feathers now mingling with the short, early growths of a Spring clawing its way from Winter.

Ignoring her overstaying gestures and teasing, Arkt decided to insist. Test a different sort of limit, more his own than her's.

"One of many things you've proven to be, yet all you'll be if these scales do not balance out between us is spent and miserable. -That- won't do. Come, take your deserved respite...Perhaps by the water's edge? Wandering deeper into the forest?" he carried on, pondering as he idly plucked at the laces of her boots before raising a finger in the air, adopting a playful expression. "-Ah-. I could carry you all the way back to the castle, where I'm sure a warm fire is waiting."

The entire offer was beginning to sound too good to be true. Arkt was a cordial creature, generous and open with her since the first, in his own mysterious way. Even so, there had been a boundary anyone with sense could read- and that was before considering all the legends implied, pushing Arkt closer to the threshold of a nameless entity than a man of flesh and blood.

Of course...He would not, and did not push that expectation upon her. Even standing before the very champion of Fate itself, did he only refer to himself as "a free man".  

Swallowing, Lith wetted her tongue, wavering curiosity in her eyes.

"If you think the notion of -any- of that will do anything beneficial for me..." she hovered over the words, off put that he wasn't only engaging with a warmer flavor of conversation, but -instigating- it rather fervently; so unlike him, "...you'd be right to a degree, but the tone of the evening would shift rather drastically."

"Yes, that was something of the point in saying all I did~." he returned, tilting his head just so, wavy raven locks shifting to dangle over his face, breaking off the subtle glow around his irises.

The fingers at his shoulder faltered a touch as Lithirill leaned back a little, so obviously flabbergasted and growing stymied by thoughts of what could follow that Arkt could -barely- contain the laughter.

"...You -are- flirting." she stated the obvious in baffled amazement, daring to dance as she tucked her ankle closer to his thigh, curling fingers round his arm as she leaned precariously close to resting her chin on his shoulder, "...I'll risk the embarrassment in asking you to pinch me. Whatever brought this on?"

"You're quite lucid, I assure you." he returned, shrugging gently as he abided her closeness,  resting his arm over her knee,  "Gratitude? Inspiration? Perhaps it's even -delirium-. Much as you puzzle over me, my mind still balks at knowing without a shadow of a doubt that my -wings- are resting between you and I. That evokes much..."

Lithirill's lips were caught between that confident smirk and the rarer nervous simper as he trailed off, cheeks growing warmer. She looked akin to a hare about to get pounced on by a hawk.

These games of idle coyness had become commonplace from his companion, at least since the conclusion of events that had named her Tel'lmaltath, but she knew them to be just that, a simple expression of her nature that receded the moment it ever hinted at offending him.

They had grown closer over the weeks of her tending, but never once had it played out like this when they did dance their short little twists and turns around one another.

She had strode atop the corpses of "Gods". Clutching the forces of Life and Death in her hands as if she alone were the scale to balance them.  Yet in humbler times, she had also been the withdrawn scholar, who took solace in pining over tales of fallen champions turned embodiment of untamable wrath. Twas a nostalgic feeling to be more the latter, quite too stricken to speak as she stared at the individual who had been such an entrenched inspiration to her. It would take another gentle pat atop her knee to pull her back to reality as Arkt actually half-barked a laugh.

"I expected some manner of stuttering your step Lithirill, yet as ever you exceed my expectations.~"  he admitted, eyeing her up and down as best he could at their odd angle,  "Are you quite all right? I feel as if your legs might give if you tried to stand at the moment." The flare of embarrassment had finally caught up with her as she blinked, scoffing out a laugh at her own expense. Reaching up to rub at her eyes, she showed teeth in an lopsided half-grin, the fatigue of the evening's work settling in.

"I won't pretend as if your accusation isn't dead on." she sighed in plain defeat,  "To one such as you, I'm sure I'm -quite- predictable, toying with you as I have been. You'll forgive me if I continue to be confounded by you in the meantime?"

"Hmmn. I like the predictability. Knowing all you've achieved that I could do no more than gamble on or hope for, the certainty of moments such as these are a comfort." he confessed, "Though, I can do nothing for your rattled humors~."

"Ahah...Don't be so sure..."  she hums  along, continuing to play gently with his feathers, very much tempted to pull herself flush to his back as she droned on in a playful tone, "Well then, I suppose I should find some courage, lest I bore you with my -quite- uncharacteristic, girlish stammering? It's unbecoming, truly, I can all be feel the whole of Qyra groaning in disappointment."

"I happen to be thoroughly enjoying myself, if it's any comfort. Though, you could stand to get under a wing at this point, you're starting to shiver." he murmured, leaning that little bit closer as to let his hair tickle her nose, "Or is that the nerves?"    

She scoffed, her eyes veiled as she turned her head up, resting brow to brow with him, "...Well now you're just -teasing-."

The seraph could only chuckle gently, nodding along, not missing the look in her eye.

"Oh absolutely." he near whispered, a lurching chill settling in his chest.

"...and what do you intend to -do- about that?"

He barely heard her, though the shift in her tone was still perfectly clear, a certain expectation slipping past her jitters. Finding the edge of how far he could dare to wander, he hovered over her lips a moment before swallowing, sighing through his nose and resolving to press a kiss to her hair instead of anything more tempting.

An apologetic smile met her fluttering lashes and tilted head as the air of their saccharine courtship turned to numbing concern.

"Nothing. Yet." he admitted gently, "In the similar vein that I am not ready to fly, I can guess neither of us are -truly- ready to do anything about this in a way we might not later regret. Curiosity plays us as one might a lute, to be sure, but..." 

Just like that, Arkt was at a loss for words.

Understanding what he likely meant, Lithirill's thoughts drifted momentarily to how the seraph regarded the grave site of the woman who had changed his life for all time. That estranging familiarity washed over her yet again, Zelara's image overwhelming her mind's eye for just a moment before she exhaled away the sensation.

As much for his comfort as her own, she brushed the back of her fingers along the spot where his feathers were there smallest, near transluscent plumes decorating the edges of his shoulder blades. She willed the roused appetite in her to settle, offering an understanding smile, lopsided though it was in the touch of disappointment she let slip.

"No need to explain, Arkt. As you told me when we set off on this little task of our's, we've nothing but time; that goes for more than just your wings." she spoke, turning her gaze north toward the off-the-beat path they'd meandered onto to find their surroundings, "For the moment, we may as well return to the castle. It is a touch chilly, and I won't lie. I'll need a bath after -that- particular bout of testing the waters."

An empty spot of last-minute insinuations and the signal their dance was over, placing them confidently back where they had begun;  Lithirill testing his boundaries and Arkt waiting patiently behind them, watchful. He'd join her again when he was ready.  If she knew one thing now, -she- certainly wasn't going to be when he did. 

                                                       ~Fin~