#okay enough I got an excitement headache alright I’m finished for now

[grapejuicefilledpools]

I’ve received the perspective of a Childe fiend based off the trailer… honestly he got me a little bit there was a lot goin awn

[in-ky]

An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

[cinnamonrusts]

i’ll see you in the village -- 3

parts: 1 2

Chris closes in on your location and he prays to see that you’re alive and well. However, you’re on the opposite side of the secluded village and come face to face with the big honcho herself, plus some of her troublesome “children”. (chris redfield x f!reader)

                                                    ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

Chris's heart pounded in his chest as the squad’s van got closer and closer to the blip on the laptop’s map. He hoped that you would be okay - maybe staying in a home or met a friendly local... Your smile was all he could picture when he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in to calm down. However, when he opened them, the van veered off away from the main road where the rinky-dink cottages were scattered about and headed into the woods. “Where are you going?” he asked as he leaned into the cab. Night Howl was behind the wheel, “Following the ping, sir.” Chris swallowed hard, if you were alone in these dark woods -- something could’ve went wrong.

The vehicle bounced around on the uneven ground and Chris held on to the back of the seat to keep himself upright. His eyes never moved from the windshield and his keen senses were on alert for any sign of you. Lobo spoke up just as the ping reached its loudest pitch, “Says we’re here.” Chris opened the door with one quick yank and he jumped out of the van. He pulled out his flashlight and his gun from his belt as he observed his surroundings. The area was as quiet as death and there were no signs that you even there. Chris walked around the area for quite sometime as his team watched him from within the vehicle, they exchanged brief words in regard to if they should help or stop him. But decided to let him do this unless he was met with danger.

His desperation reached an all time high and he started to shout your name into the dark. “[Y/N]!” Chris continued to walk and shout until his boot kicked something that was laying on the road. He kneeled down and shined his flashlight at the item that caught his attention. Chris picked it up and realized that the crumbled pile in his palm was once a cell phone. Technology seemed to stay at a standstill in this area and was mostly untouched by the outside world -- so why was there a cellphone here? The only explanation was that it was your phone. His tired faced drained itself of color and his heartbeat quickened to an unmeasurable rate. He was silent but his mind was loud. If anything were to happen to you, he would tear this entire place apart and tear through anyone just to get to you. His fist closed around the broken phone and crushed it more. As he came to a stand, he breathed out through his nostrils loudly and let the plastic crumble from his fingers.

Lobo stepped out from the van to approach Chris with concern, “Everything alright, Alpha?” Redfield’s eyes were fixated on the trees before him and he was silent - not even a twinge in his face, he was blank. “They took her,” he finally spoke after an awkward amount of silence. His head turned toward Lobo, “I’m gonna get her back.” Lobo nodded, “But Alpha, don’t forget about the main objective... with Winters.” Chris grit his teeth before he barked, “YOU DON’T THINK I KNOW THAT?!” He instantly felt regret and apologized for his outburst. His team was completely faithful to the man and followed him to the ends of the Earth. But, he was scared to lose anyone else... he’s lost too much already and if he lost you... he was unsure if he could handle that. Lobo patted his shoulder a couple times, “Don’t worry, Alpha. We got your back and we’ll find [Y/N].”

                                                    ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

The Duke listened to your story intently and when you finished, he erupted in laughter. Your face crinkled in surprise at his reaction, “Did I say something -- funny?” you ask, offended. The Duke continued to chuckle before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “If you’re going to tell me a tale, my lady, at least make it believable.” You scoff and thought briefly about how good you thought your story was but -- it didn’t fool this large man that sat before you. “Now, why don’t we start again, American?” The jig was up and you might as well just tell the truth. “How could you tell?” you ask and he chuckled once more. “Gypsies haven’t been around this area for nearly fifty years! And also, you lack of an accent from the area you claim to be from... it is rather funny, if you ask me!”

Your ego felt somewhat hurt by this stranger but that was besides the point. If he could easily see through your ruse, then maybe so would Miranda... “So...” you start to say before the wagon got slammed into from the side. You tumble around inside the cart as it flipped several times before it landed upside down. The Duke had been separated from you as the back part of the wagon broke free from the front part he was in, and the horse carried him away to safety but left you behind

.

You groan loudly as you roll to your side and try to push yourself up but couldn’t because of an excruciating pain in your leg. It is hard to focus because of the trauma that your head had taken from the crash plus the trip down the hill earlier. Once your vision cleared, you could see a rather large piece of wood protruding from your upper thigh. “Shit!” you curse as your shaky hands hesitated to pull it out. But it was too painful to even touch and your training kicked in, if you took it out, you would more than likely bleed out due to where it was located and you were far from help.

Loud noises shuffled around from outside of the wagon and you began to panic. Your hands shuffled through the broken pieces of wood that were scattered around in an attempt to find your pistol. The curtain at the back of the wagon lifted slowly just as you found your weapon, and you proceeded to shoot a warning shot. The curtain dropped and it was silent for a moment but your aim was still up. Suddenly, a large, black root slinked up under the curtain and yanked you out from your cover. You screamed loudly and desperately tried to aim for something to shoot at but you found yourself being held upside down. Stupidly, you emptied your clip into the air as you hoped it would hit the root. 

✧.*

A woman stepped out from the shadows to slap your pistol out of your hand and you instantly recognized her face once she stepped into the moonlight. Her blonde hair and attractive features... they-they matched Mother Miranda! It was Miranda! Shit. Now you were deep in it... You followed the root that had a tight grip around your ankle up to the hem of her dress. It was apparent that she had abilities similar to that of the mold and BOWs, even better. “There was word of a rat in our nest,” she hissed, her voice feminine and powerful. Miranda’s stare was cold as she walked closer to you; her face closes in on yours and you could feel her warm breath on your sweat stained skin. “And the snakes don’t care much for rats. American agent rats to be exact.”

The root lifted you higher into the air and you were dangled above her head. Miranda looked up to you, “I think I will let the others help me decide what to do with you.” she smiled before the root slammed you down into the ground and your vision faded black.

Miranda lifted you from the ground and held your unconscious body in her arms. Black feathers spread from her back and wrapped around the two of you, then disappeared in a swirl of black.

✧.*

An unknown amount of time passed before you came to. The sound of a few people talking caused you to stir, their loud voices rang in your ear and irritated the horrible headache you had. “I say we strip her down, cover her in honey, and throw her to the rats! A rat for a rat!” a man’s voice boomed with excitement and it was the first sentence you could make out while coming to. “Let me have her! She’ll be turned into the finest of wine!” a woman’s voice that was not Miranda’s yelled over the man’s.

When your eyes opened fully, three faces turned toward you. “Well, well, good morning, sleepy head!” the male grinned and lowered his sunglasses to get a better look at you. A dark haired woman across from him stood from her chair and her insane height towered over you, “She looks healthy and plump enough to craft an excellent bottle.” The man stood from his chair and pushed her a bit, “You always want to turn the women into wine. Boring!” 

The two of them began to bicker back and forth for several minutes until one of Miranda’s roots grabbed hold of your throat and reeled you in. “You two can fight over the child’s father. She - she will be mine to toy with, I’ve made up my mind,” the leader smiled a menacing grin which caused your blood to run cold. Inside you hoped that Chris would punch  through the door and save you from your predicament, but that chance was slim to none. “Begone my children, I have work to do.” They obeyed her wishes and left.

  ✧.*

She wrapped her wings around you once again and kept you restrained while she forced you into her laboratory that was beneath the village’s grounds. “I could kill you but that would be a waste.” she spoke as she strapped you to a table in the middle of the room. You wiggled violently as you tried to free yourself from your imprisonment but cried in pain at the open wound in your leg. “A strong American agent like yourself could be an interesting addition to our family... think of it as an eye for an eye.” she walked away to a shelf and reached for a large glass jar which had a sort of creature inside. “You’ll be the first outsider to receive a Cadou implant. And I am oh so curious to see how you adapt...” She reached into the jar, pulled out the pulsating parasite, and slowly approached you. 

Screams escaped your mouth as you thrashed around in another attempt to break loose but your restraints were so tight that they dug into your flesh. Miranda pushed your head down with force and pressed her palm into your forehead. The “Cadou” writhed around and long tentacles sprouted from within its fleshy mass and grabbed onto either side of your chest . Your last breath was a shriek of terror as it attached itself to your body and burrowed into your torso.

[borkthemork]

Drabble Request: Anne and Marcy after her rescue

You know what, Anon? You get a 2,600 word draft as a treat. Thank you for your patience!

-----

Anne had read books before.

She wasn't the kind of person to read long-winding literature like the typical bookworms back home, but she did read whatever interested her. From magazines to comics to zoo books about bird mating dances, Anne liked stuff that had meat to it.

Give her enemies to lovers, she'd cheer at the makeouts. Give her gut wrenching biographies about surviving the Himalayas, she'd bawl her eyes out. And if one gave her story about being one's true self under the guise and acceptance of a duck instructor then she'd quack it up and never be heard from again.

There needed to be meat, drama, scenes of people kissing in the rain. Stories were all about getting punched in the gut over some random guy, and that would always be the best part!

So she had no idea why Cynthia Coven never stood out to her.

It might be because of the choppy writing style or perhaps fantasy wasn't her thing, but that didn't make sense to her. After all, she'd read anything as long as it was interesting and somehow the Coven books just…didn't stick?

Sure, Cynthia had a pet squirrel. Anne could find a squirrel at the park anytime. Cynthia had spells, curses, people with talking body parts that shouldn't be talking at all. Okay, cool — ugh, why wasn't she interested? Everything about it seemed right up her alley!

She chalked it up to preferences and moved on. 

But somehow, after all these years, the same book fluttered between the pages in her hands. And she found herself narrating, speaking the paragraphs out loud under the green canvas of her tent. 

All because the bedridden girl beside her couldn't sleep. 

It had been forty-six hours since Anne and the girls united. It felt a lot longer than that, if she wanted to be honest, but all the footing, fighting, and planning they did to get out unharmed from Andrias's castle had taken a toll on them. And for Mar-mar even more so, what with the amount of stuff that went down. A lot of explosions. Crying. Frog-on-frog violence.

So in this tent came privacy. Not enough privacy to basically stop Sprig or Sasha from barging in, but the makeshift walls were one of the most protected cliff faces inside the forests. So they were basically between a rock and a hard place.

And since Amphibia's nature became a hazard to not only the typical frog but aggro robot intruders, nothing got through as a threat in the end. Not even the huge mother frobo that she and Sash fought days prior.

Anne flipped a page.

The cold draft had slipped in and raised goosebumps on her umber skin. It almost seemed surreal that Summer started to transition out with the months passing, but the chirp of birds and the lack of cicada song had marked a new season, and now Anne shivered slightly with her narration.

Marcy's wounds needed to heal. From the remains of the stab wound to the headache to the numerous nicks upon her feet, if she didn't start sleeping then the medicine Maddie gave wouldn't come into effect anytime soon.

And if she didn't snore in the next ten minutes, Sash would have to knock her out with some sleepshroom grub saute and Anne wasn't going to let her get drugged anytime soon.

But from what was currently happening, Anne became unsure.

Marcy's eyes fluttered shut a few times. She would start drifting off at some random part in the story and then jolted back to listening intently as if nothing had happened. Nothing in the book could get her to sleep. Not Cynthia's introduction to werebeasts, her dramatic one-liners, or how she got knocked out for a minute straight from drinking a pint of Canadian beer.

Wait, could teens drink beer in Canada? Gah, that wasn't important!

What was important was that Marcy looked dead — terrifyingly dead — and no matter how much Anne tried to keep her eyes on the words, the fear clung to the recesses of her mind, asking if everything was going to be alright despite the girls' current luck streak.

That maybe this would be the last time she'd ever see Marcy alive. All because she fell asleep.

Anne leveled her voice when these thoughts struck her, and hoped Marcy didn't note the hitch in her throat or how she blinked faster to catch herself from crying.

Because Marcy was strong. She was stronger than people gave her credit for.

Anne peered down. Marcy's thumb had pressed to the side of Anne's fingers, their eyes meeting for a second; one harbored bags under her eyes, the other of worry.

"I promise I'll sleep." Her smile reached her gaze, the weariness plain on her worn out dimples and ashen cheeks. Anne might need a washcloth later. "It's been a long time since I've read the Cynthia Coven series, my brain can't help but pay attention."

"I know, Mar-mar." Anne closed her eyes for a second and let out a relaxed sigh. "Seven months can be pretty long."

"Tell me about it." Marcy's eyes lingered at the ceiling, licking her lips. "I've been so busy with everything that's been happening that I've barely caught up with the latest book."

"Yeah." Anne smiled. "You know they've got a new release out?"

She blinked. Almost as if Anne punched her in the face at that moment. "Are you serious? Aw man, I missed so much."

"Hey, it's alright. It'll be waiting for you when we get back." Besides, Anne already wrapped the edition in a lot of Christmas paper, might as well keep the surprise.

But Marcy still looked miserable. She pouted,  letting her sink more into the mattress almost comically, and Anne bit back a laugh when she groaned. "Oh man, I'm so excited, this sucks! At least tell me if Cynthia gets over the Bridge of Quintessence."

"I don't know what that means and besides, you're two books behind, why would you wanna spoil it!"

They shared a laugh and carried on. Anne missed this. She did. In between the page clips and the eagerness flowing in Marcy's voice, it almost seemed like they were back to what they once were: Two girls laughing and making fun of bad jokes, giggling at stuff that didn't make sense in the story. It almost made the worries over Andrias and her parents grow into background noise.

Almost.

Anne perked up. A question had flown past her, and now Marcy stared at her, inquiry clear in her eyes. "Oh, sorry, I zoned out a bit. What'd you say, Marbles?"

"I'm curious, Annarama."

"Curious about what?"

Marcy's eyes traveled over her shoulder for a second. Was it the fatigue? Judging from how she fiddled with her fingers, the question must've been something serious, maybe something about Andrias or what happened back in the castle.

Whatever it was, Anne readied herself as she waited.

And then:

"Is that mine?"

Anne blinked. She ogled her book, then at the bedside table with its medicinal herbs, then the Thai Go logo printed fresh on her shirt. "What's yours?"

She pointed to Anne's waist.

When Anne looked down, the realization struck her like a bat. Under the filtered sunlight, she almost forgot that the yellow jacket around her waist was there to begin with, snug and tight in that hard knot Anne tied everytime she stepped out of the house.

And somehow, it remained clean from countless dimensional hops and Super Saiyan power-ups. And now it was here. Being scrutinized by her and the girl opposite her.

With that, she started to sweat.

Right, that.

A nervous laugh burst out from her mouth, making Marcy stare at her more out of concern.

How was she going to explain that?

"Oh, yeah! I almost forgot!" She rubbed her neck, trying her best to pick out the right reasons in her mind, but nothing stuck out to her. "It's a funny story actually, so funny that you'll probably forget in the morning so why not another time?"

A smile formed. "I don't know, Anne." Her eyes scrunched up too in pleasure, pressing her thumb against Anne's knuckles. "I'm all for sleeping to a comedy. Remember when we watched Borat? I laughed so hard I passed out."

"Oh, Mar-mar, that's not what I mean."

"Then what do you mean?" She then pulled her hand away, frowning. "Unless I'm pushing you, then I'll just—"

"No, no. You're fine!" What wasn't fine was how her heart pounded against her chest. Or, that the more she tried to take a deep breath, Marcy's growing concern made her laughter sound more like an old man wheezing from an asthma attack.

Anne was about to make a dumbass out of herself and that was fine! As long as she stayed calm and explained then maybe she wouldn't feel nervous about this.

Wait, why was she nervous anyway? It was just a jacket!

Oh, she knew why.

"Okay." Anne placed the book down, trying to regain her breath. Might as well go for it. What was the worst that could happen? Don't answer that. "So you remember how I've been trying to find my way back after I got through the portal?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, I didn't want to forget. Not like I would've but I thought you died and I knew taking down Andrias was the only way to avenge you and get Sasha back." Anne sharply inhaled — words speeding past her ears. "So I thought 'Hey, I'll carry your jacket so I don't forget' and I basically wore it around everyday until I finally found a way back. So…"

Marcy's stare didn't help her sweating as she spoke, giving jazz hands to finish it all off. "Here I am. Yeah."

Marcy continued to stare at her. She'd never seen her this gobsmacked before; usually she found a way to ask questions, to let her enthusiasm shine through with eager stride, but now she became a deer in the highlights. All agape. All wide-eyed.

Oh Frog, I broke her.

"Mar-mar, you okay?"

"So you wore my jacket as a reminder to stop Andrias," she asked slowly, "after months of finding a way back?"

Anne puffed out her cheeks. "Maybe?"

"Anne…"

"Okay, okay, yeah." She hung her head, defeat in her voice. "I did."

"Oh." Marcy's eyes widened to the size of saucers, a shaky exhale breaking through. "Oh."

Anne stood up. If she didn't get out in the next fifteen seconds, she was going to explode. "Okay, yep! That's it for the Cynthia Coven series! Goodnight, Mar-mar, I'll check up on you later—!"

"Wait, wait!"

Marcy latched onto her wrist. Her ears pounded on, hard to focus with her sweaty palms and the shallowness of her breath. Because this whole situation was awkward and weird and it made her feel funny things in her heart and darn it Anne should've handled this back on Earth — not while they were stuck in the middle of a Frog darn war!

"Anne, please look at me."

She did. 

When she turned, the sight surprised her. Marcy's cheeks had darkened considerably as they held each other's gazes, the hold on her arm still having them tethered to one another.

Then the touch loosened slightly. It didn't speak of fear nor did it speak of pain. It didn't speak of the desperation Marcy once had when she held her fists in the broken halls of the Newtopian castle. What Anne instead found was reassurance. A reassurance in their interlocked hands, at how they gazed intently under the tent canvas, a heat creeping well onto Anne's cheeks too.

"It's really sweet that you wore my jacket like that." Marcy then bore down at the bedding lines, almost squeaking her words. "And very clever! Yeah! Because a physical reminder is a great alternative to notebooks and to-do list, and since my jacket has emotional connotations to me, of course you'd wear it! It just makes sense."

Marcy coughed into her sleeve, words almost a whisper. "You've always been good at improvising, after all."

"Mar-mar..."

"And thank you."

Anne stopped. She could've honed in on the bustling Wartwoodians outside. Or the rustle of the forest trees. But she focused on the comforting tap of Marcy's fingers, and the gleam in the girl's eyes — almost as if Marcy was about to cry.

"You've always been kind," she murmured. Her fingers trailed circles on Anne's palms, leaving her to shudder slightly under the touch. Especially when Marcy's eyes grew half-lidded. Remorse on her lips. "And to know you worked so hard after everything I did to you and Sash, I don't how I'll ever make it up for it."

"You don't have to do that," she said. Her words drifted between them, remembering what Mrs. Wu said a few months ago: That Marcy was the best out of all of them. Because she always needed to be. "What Andrias did was not your fault, and I'll beat him again if he ever makes you think it is."

"Besides," she said, putting on a smile. "Having you beside me has always been enough. Honest."

But Marcy's grief remained on her face, unspoken as her fingers faltered their dragging on Anne's palms.

Because she wanted to hold her hand instead, both their fingers trembling from the bedridden girl's arm.

"Anne, I hurt you. I did. No matter how much I try to justify myself, I still omitted everything about what I knew." Her eyebrows furrowed, glaring more at their shaky hands. "I was selfish. I wasn't honest."

"Don't say that. You didn't know this would happen, I understand this now."

"But you're still angry." Marcy sighed. "I know you are."

The conifers rustled silently. The faraway bugs whistled, occupying each interval as they held hands, their gazes observing anything but the other. Until Anne couldn't think up a better excuse anymore.

As much as Anne tried to forgive, there was something frightening about the resentment in her skin, underneath all that warmth. It went against every lesson she learned. Every lesson of compassion. Or maybe she was just denying it for what it truly was — a tight angry wound that had reason to exist as much as their handlock. 

Her body sagged at the thought. She'd gotten so far, trying to deny anything about herself would reverse so much.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I'm still mad. I don't want to be, but I am. But that doesn't mean I was gonna leave you guys in the middle of a war." The next words were under her breath. "I never wanted you guys to get hurt in the first place."

Marcy brushed her knuckles. "Take as much time as you need."

"I think a few months is enough."

"Or a year."

A smile. "Maybe more."

And Anne held her hand until the silence heard their heartbeats. Until their smiles returned slowly, surely.

"I talked to Sasha before you came in," Marcy said.

"You did?"

She nodded. "Mhm. And I don't know if she told you this, but we both agreed to a concordance." Marcy faltered. "An agreement I mean."

Anne snorted. "You don't have to dumb yourself down around me."

"Heyy, I'm not, I just don't want this to sound...clinical."

"Right."

The younger girl shuffled closer to her, which was surprising enough with the limited room on the bed itself. But when Anne held her eyes, there came recognition of something new. Was it relief? Worry?

"What we agreed on is that you don't have to forgive us. Maybe you'll be mad at us for a long time—"

"Mar-mar, I'm not—"

"Let me finish," she said softly. Anne hesitated. She resolved to caress Marcy's knuckles instead, and, of course, she didn't seem to mind. "Whatever happens, whatever you decide, we're not going to abandon you. If you want us out of your life, we'll respect it. If you want us to stay, then we'll respect that too."

Marcy inhaled, slow and careful. 

"And when you're ready, I'll make sure to be close by."

There had been times where Anne couldn’t predict what her future held. There had been numerous moments where Anne wanted to quit, to get angry, to question how her life hit upon all these coincidences like pinball and found herself in the most surprising of situations.

But when Marcy finished, stared at her, waiting for her to let her statement sink in, everything seemed to click in place. For just a single moment.

Each word had come out resilient, well thought-out. Anne could imagine the planning so clearly: How Sasha and Marcy sat in the same positions as them, sat with their heads together as they discussed what to say. And the more Anne listened, she could only hope that Sasha was just around the corner, ready to say the same things in her own Sasha-like way.

But for now, they gripped each other's hands, squeezed their fingers until Anne could only think of the heat. The burn in her nose. Then the bit-back sob and her trembling lip as Marcy pressed a thumb carefully to Anne's cheek, rubbing the tear trail away.

Because out of everything Anne predicted to find at the other end of the portal, it wasn’t this. 

"You promise?"

Marcy smiled, the ends of her lips twitching weakly. "I promise this time." Her voice broke. "I do."

With it, came the waterworks.

[undyingskies]

Lets Have a Baby

request: yes;

“Heyy i love your writing and if you are taking requests can you do one with charlie similar to the one you did with owen where him and the reader have a pregnancy scare but unlike owens, Charlie is kinda disappointed by not having a kid so he tells her they should actually try. Thank you so much in advance!”

A/N:  I hope you guys enjoy, this was a lot of fun to write!

Warnings: Talk about pregnancy and a few curse words. 

tagged: @mah-gah-lee , her and her fics are the best! check her blog out!

___________________________

You had been feeling really off for a few weeks now. You couldn’t really seem to put your finger on why. They were normal symptoms, nothing unusual, the only unusual thing was the fact that they were constantly persistent.

Over the last few weeks your normal headaches seemed to turn into migraines that would last for days. No medicine could help them, only warm showers and naps helped. In between migraines it seemed like waves of nausea took up that time.

All while dealing with the off and on migraines and nausea, your body was in constant pain and you were exhausted. You couldn’t tell if the exhaustion was just from the constant strain on your body from the aches or from the running back and forth to the bathroom thinking your stomach would empty itself. Or if the exhaustion was just another part of your new normal.

Today was like any other day you’ve been experiencing recently. You were in your bed, a heating pad placed on your lower back, with all the lights off. The strain from your migraine fading as the minutes pass on, giving you some peace.

You can hear the front door of your shared apartment open, assuming that was Charlie coming back from wherever he ventured off to this morning. In your morning haze of nausea and headache you didn’t really catch what he had said.

“Y/N?” You hear Charlie yell as he makes his way into the apartment.

You turn your head to the side so that your voice wouldn’t be muffled by your pillow.

“In here!” You yell out as loud as you can, not wanting to bring back the pounding in your head.

As you get the words out, you see Charlie peek his head into your bedroom. He walks around the room blindly for a few seconds, since you had all the lights off and your black out curtains pulled together, not letting any light in.

He walks over to the window and pulls the curtains back enough just to let a stream of light in. He comes and sits next to your laying body on your bed. He pushes some of your hair out of your face, smiling down at you.

You return that smile back up at him. “Hi.” You whisper up at him, moving to turn over to sit up and face him.

“Hi! How are you feeling?” He asks you, his concern evident on his face. He had been worried about you these last few weeks, neither of you really knowing what was going on with your health.

“Better today, my migraines gone which is nice! My lower back cramps aren’t too bad anymore, seems like the Tylenol may finally be working!” You say answering his question.

“Well that’s good, I’m glad you’re feeling better!” He says. “What do you think has been causing all this?”

“I don’t really know! These are all things I’ve felt before!” You tell him, racking your brain trying to come up with ideas of why this could be happening. “I was thinking it could be my period, but...”

That’s when it hits you. You haven’t gotten your period yet. Being on birth control kept your period extremely regulated. Every month, you could put money down that you would get your period the second week of the month and on Tuesday morning. It happened like that for the last 2 years.

Not this month though. You hadn’t even realized it, you were so caught up in feeling like crap you hadn’t realized your period week came and passed.

“But what?” Charlie asks you, breaking you out of your now spiraling thoughts.

“I didn’t get my period this month.” You tell him plain and dry. You figured cutting to the point was the best option, especially with Charlie.

“Oh shit.” Is all that came out of Charlie’s mouth at your confession. His facial expression screaming shocked.

“Oh shit is right.” You tell him, laughing slightly at his reaction.

You were nervous and afraid, but something about Charlie and his presence kept you calm. You knew whatever happened, he would be by your side.

The big question here was, were you ready to be a mom? A kid can be a lot and you were still young. You wanted kids but did you want them now? Both yours and Charlie’s careers were just starting to take off.

The big questions overwhelming your mind, you can feel the migraine slowly making its way back.

Charlie’s still sitting next to you, watching you silently. Both of your brains filling with those questions, while you panicked, Charlie got excited.

A little human being, 50% you and 50% him, he couldn’t think of anything better. Whether it be a girl or boy, he just knew it would be the cutest baby.

Before the both of you could spiral into your thoughts anymore, you needed an answer. Both you and Charlie knew that.

“So what are we going to do?” He asks you.

“Well I think the first step is to take a test, get a real answer.” You tell him. Your hands coming up to put pressure on your temples, the new pain not subsiding.

“Good point. How about I go get the test? You go take a shower or something, I can tell your headache is coming back.” He says, his hands moving to grab yours from your face.

He moves to press a kiss to your lips, smiling in the process of it.

“Sound good?” He asks. You nod your head yes.

Before he leaves, he helps you get up out of bed and into the bathroom.

“Alright, I’ll get going. You get in there and relax.” He tells you as he moves to turn the water on.

With another quick kiss, Charlie is on his way out and to the store. Secretly hoping that it would come back positive.

The pain in your lower back starts to get worse, the pounding in your head does as well. You quickly strip and hop into the warm water. Every muscle in your body relaxes as it falls over your body.

Hot showers really are a god send in times like this. You enjoy your time in the shower, allowing the relaxation take over you. If you could keep this feeling forever you would.

But like all things, it has to end and it ends too fast in your opinion. A big cramp makes its way through your stomach, and you knew what that meant.

You hop out quick, shutting the water off. You don’t have time to wrap the towel around you before you go sit on the toilet, you make it right on time before your period finally makes its appearance.

The minute your period starts flowing, your cramps and headache ease and start to disappear. It seems that the pent-up hormones were just making you sick.

The timing of it weird and not normal, it usually doesn’t hit like that, but you guess that nothing about this month has been normal. You’re grateful now though, all your pain leaving.

I guess that was the answer we were looking for you think to yourself. You can hear Charlie open and close the front door. You clean yourself up and start to get dressed in some sweats.

“I’ll be right out Char.” You yell out to him as you finish pulling your shirt over your head.

You make your way out of the bathroom and see a smiling Charlie sitting on the edge of your bed with a white bag next to him.

“I didn’t know what test to get so I bought 3.” He says, opening the bag and showing you the three different tests. You giggle at his antics.

You move to stand in between his legs, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking down at him, smiling.

“I just got my period, so we don’t need the test.” You tell him, running your hands through his hair that has gotten longer thanks to the months of not working.

You watch as him smile falters, his eyes dropping from your eye contact, and his hands stop the circular motion they were making on your hips.

“You okay Char?” You ask him, now concerned due to the expression on his face.

“I don’t know, I guess I was just excited about the thought of a baby.” Your shocked at his confession, not thinking that was what he was thinking this whole time.

You figured that he would have been nervous thinking that a baby wouldn’t be the best idea right now. You thought he was just staying calm so you wouldn’t panic, especially because you were feeling so sick.

A smile did make its way onto your face, you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Charlie was thinking about the two of you having a baby and being excited about it.

“You were?” You ask him, the two of you had talked about kids but not about having them soon. So as happy as you were about his confession, you were still a little shocked.

“Well yeah.” He admits. “I mean think about it, it would be a mini version of us running around.  I don’t know, I just like the sound of that.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?” You say with a smile on your face. A matching smile makes its way onto Charlie’s face. He nods his head yes in agreement.

“You don’t think we’re too young though?”  You ask, concerned for a few reasons. “Or the fact that both of our careers are just now taking off? You don’t think a baby would get in the way of that or maybe ruin it?”

Charlie can hear the concern in your voice and see the worry in your eyes. He has no doubt in his mind that none of that would be an issue, but he understands where you’re coming from.

“We may be young, but I don’t think we’re too young. I love you with my whole heart Y/N, a little version of us is all I could ask for or want!” He tells you. “Plus, while both of our careers are important, we have enough to support us and a baby. Plus we would not let a baby get in the way of our careers. We wouldn’t let it, we would figure out a way to get it to blend together in a way where it all works!”

He ends his confession on his feet and jumping around in truly Charlie fashion. His excitement contagious and so evident.

A big smile makes its way onto your face. Charlie does have a way with words and his excitement, gets you excited.

Charlie watches you as your smile gets bigger, he knows those wheels in your head are turning. He steps forward to bring you in close and wrap his arms around your waist.

“So do you wanna do this? Wanna have a baby with me?” He asks you, the biggest smile on his face.

You bite your bottom lip trying to contain the big smile on your face, while nodding your head yes.

“No, no, nooooo,” Charlie says, exaggerating the “o” on his last no, “If we’re going to do this, I am going to need a verbal confirmation.” A smirk now replaces the smile on his face.

“Yes Charlie, let’s have a baby.”

The two largest smiles covering both of your faces.

“Well let’s get started then.” He says with a laugh.

Next thing you know your feet are off the ground and your thrown onto your bed. Laughs escaping both you and Charlie.

There’s no one else you would rather be stuck with in this world than Charlie and the thought of raising a family with him felt like the world’s best gift.

[missmonsters2]

Between the Lines || XII

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Introducing....David’s king 😏🥰

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII || PART IX || PART X || PART XI

PART XII of XX

Translations:

не против - Don’t mind

ти си моето семејство, во овој и во следниот живот - You’re my family, in this life, and the next.

Count: 5,633

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"Ah..."

The sound made you stop, pulling your mouth away as you stood straighter while licking your lips. 

Wanda stood in front of you, breathless as she leaned against the wall, unable to move too much with the tight space. Her hands drifted from your neck to rest on your biceps. Turning, you look at the mirror before you. 

Eyes red with stained lips, you internally sighed, feeling an uncomfortable pit in your stomach that told you everything felt both right and wrong. 

"I think that's enough..." You say quietly so Wanda can hear, but you don't attract too much attention outside. You turn to grab some paper towels from the dispenser as you wet them under the sink to wipe your mouth. 

Turning to Wanda, you notice you hadn't closed up the wound on her neck and purse your lips. The brunette seems to realize as well as she tilts her head to the side, exposing her neck to you once more before she grabs the edge of your bomber jacket and pulls you back against her roughly.

"Wanda," you call her name in warning. Though you are a seasoned vampire, you weren't looking to dance along the edge with the newly feeding you have to do.

"You should finish me off before you say you're done at least," Wanda says, and you feel yourself biting your tongue at how suggestive she sounds.

You wonder if she's doing it on purpose. 

Nonetheless, you sigh, leaning your head down, careful to not brush yourself more against her than you must. You lick at the bite wounds, tentatively but quickly, watching the wounds close after.

You pull away, Wanda letting her grip go on you. You use the wet towel to wipe her neck clean of the bloodstains before you throw it down the toilet and flush.

Though feeding gives you energy and revitalizes you, you can't help but feel drained from the experience. 

You're about to leave again when Wanda pulls you back.

"Wanda," you say in a more serious warning this time. She's been a little more daring the past couple of days, and you're both intrigued and frightened by it. 

Luckily for you, Wanda seems to know where the line is. 

"Relax," Wanda cocks her brow. "Your eyes are still glowing red. You should wait until it subsides before you go out."

You look back in the mirror, eyes glowing red brightly, and you sighed. Your body was overly excited about feeding again, and it would take time to adjust.

The two of you idly stand in the small space. You could hear people coming back and forth to check if the washroom is empty.

"So, how often is often?" Wanda asks.

You stand stiffly, cursing at how small airplane washrooms are.

"For now, once a week," you answer her. "But let me know if you feel unwell, and I will check to see if it's my venom."

Wanda nods, blinking languidly.

"I'm sorry," you say when you notice she looks tired. "I promise I will find a way to fix this."

Wanda gave you a tiny smirk. 

"No rush."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When you returned to your seat, you sat down with a sigh.

"You alright?" Natasha asked as she grabbed your hand. You turn to look at David. He was clutching his legs in tighter so that Wanda could squeeze past him to her seat. 

"Yeah, sorry for taking so long. The red in my eyes are still adjusting to fresh blood," you apologize to Natasha, pulling her hand to kiss the back of it gently before you settle in your seat.

It was just you and Natasha in the aisle, a small moment of peace that you're thankful for. It's been rather quiet between you and Natasha the last few days. When David had located Leo's descendant, he wanted to book the flight for the next day, but you insisted on taking a couple days to get your things together and rest. 

The days that followed were simply being in your home with Natasha, quiet as it seemed like Natasha was working through her own emotions and things she seemed not ready quite yet to speak to you about. 

And you were okay with that. 

"Have you been to Nashville before?" Natasha asks as she looks out the window, the city getting closer in view as it lowers. 

You nod, rubbing your thumb idly on the back of her hand. "Yes," you say, "In fact, David and I lived there for a few years."

"Oh?" Natasha smiles. "Did you like it?"

You shrug. "It's a little too country for me and not the good parts of Country culture." 

Natasha nods, and you take a moment to put your head on her shoulder, deeply inhaling the scent of vanilla and dry leaves. Natasha leans her head over, pressing her lips to the side of your head, causing your heart to flutter.

"I think I want to be in Bora Bora or maybe the Maldives," Natasha says softly after a moment. 

You turn your head upwards slightly, peering up at Natasha's face.

"I'll take you anywhere you want to go," you say as Natasha smiles, head lowering as she presses her lips against yours.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It seems like autumn is also coming to an end in Nashville, the air smelling a little crisper for winter arrival. 

Pietro has called Wanda again once her plane landed. He was a little upset that he couldn't come along, but Steve said he could use the help with locating Bucky, and speed would definitely be helpful.

At first, Pietro declined, but then Wanda insisted that he go with Steve. If they were going to make up for the things they've done and be a part of the team, this was the time to show it.

And so, they parted ways for the first time since, well, ever. 

"How are we getting there?" Wanda asked as she looked around the airport. Her face held a thinly veiled layer of discomfort that she was trying to hide, though poorly.

"Are you okay?" Natasha asked as she looked at Wanda, seeing through the tough act.

Wanda stared at Natasha, and for a moment, you don't think she's going to answer.

"Yeah," Wanda says finally, licking her lips and swallowing. "I'm just a little tired...and there's a lot of people here. It's...loud."

Natasha looks around and notes that it seems to be prime time for flights. People are bustling around trying to get to their gate on time, and families have gathered to meet people coming off the plane or say goodbye. 

"I can't do anything about the loudness," Natasha says, digging into her pocket. "But, here." Pulling out a hard candy wrapped in transparent paper, she gives it to Wanda.

Wanda holds the candy in her palm, tilting her head slightly before she looks back at Natasha. "Thanks."

"Might help with the tiredness," Natasha shrugs before she tells you she'll go grab the bags and walks off with David following her. 

Wanda is opening the candy from the wrapper, popping the little thing in her mouth as she sighs, eyes fluttering close as she rubs her temple. 

"Headache?" You ask her, garnering her attention.

Wanda nods with a frown. "Yes, more so lately, and it's worse in a crowd. I can hear everything in people's heads, and in a crowd, it's a jumble."

"Turn it off," you tell her with a shrug, and she gives you a look.

"It's not that easy."

"It is," you tell her back. "You're like a radio picking up every station is the available area. It gets easier with time and practice to distinguish the noise, but if you can't handle it in such a large crowd, turn it off."

Wanda merely stares at you as if she doesn't know whether or not to believe you, but she supposes because it's not like you're a stranger to her powers, she sighs.

"How?" She asks.

You come to stand closer to her, blocking her view of anything behind you.

"Focus," you tell her, "You only need to be hearing one voice, and that's your own. Focus on the space within your own mind. Live there."

Wanda gives you a look where it tells you she doesn't quite think it will work but closes her eyes with a sigh and takes a deep breath.

"I...I can't focus," Wanda says frustratingly. 

"Relax," you tell her. "Try again, but this time, focus on my voice."

You go on to talk about miscellaneous things like the color of the walls, the scuff marks on the ground, the man with an obstinately ugly hat. And before you know it, the stress lines on Wanda's face begin to fade.

"Better?" You ask when she opens her eyes.

"Yeah," Wanda says breathlessly with relief, "Thank you."

You don't say anything else as Natasha comes back with David.

"So, how are we getting there?" Wanda repeats.

"We rented a car. I'll go grab it and pull it up front," you walk off before anyone say anything.

The ride is silent, with just a radio playing quietly in the background. It's you and David in the front as David helps you navigate and discuss details with you.

But that leaves Natasha and Wanda in the back. The two girls are on opposite ends, looking out the window. 

You sigh internally as you focus on the road in front of you.

"What's his name again?" 

David pulls up a file. "Robert," he says after a moment. "Devayan. He is Leonard's great-great-grandson. He's the priest for a church in his neighborhood. Well-known and respected in his community. He's got a wife, two kids, and a dog—very American dream with a picket fence and all."

You hum. 

"Does Leonard's descendants know about...?" Natasha asks as you look in the rearview mirror. 

"Us being vampires?" You supply for her helpfully with a smile as she nods. "Yes, they do, but the secret is only passed to the child who has the greatest alchemy affinity, which most kids won't show until they're at least 13."

"That being said," David jumps in, "we haven't really kept in touch because we only go to a descendant when we have another vampire entering a coven because they have to get the searings to be able to go into the sun, amongst other things. And as you can see, we haven't added anyone new since me."

You turn into a bright community. The sound of children's laughter and dogs barking make their way to your ear. It's a lively little suburban neighborhood, and you wonder if this was something you would have ever wanted. 

"Leonard seemed to be really close to you, to be willing to do so much," Wanda comments as she continues to stare at the window at the children playing. 

You pull up to the house, putting the car in park with a sigh.

"He was family."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

"Sorry, the wife and kid's are out shopping right now."

You look at the man before you. He was a young priest, and there were hints of Leo that you recognized in him, like the subtle ginger hair. 

"Didn't want to tag along?" David asks, and Robert laughs.

"Goodness, no. Can't say that's how I like to pass my time." Robert sets down a tea tray for the four of you, and Wanda takes up the task of pouring it. Putting in a splash of milk and two and a half sugar cubes, she gives a cup to you.

"Thanks," you say, scrunching your eyebrows initially. But it was your favorite way of taking simple tea, and you took it with ease. 

"не против," Wanda mutters as she continues on with pouring tea for Natasha and David, but leaves them to put in their own condiments.

"So, what's this about?" Robert asks as he settles into his seat. 

You shift in your seat a little, licking your lip before you clear your throat and bring his attention to you. "Yesterday is gone, tomorrow is a mystery, and today, I have you..."

Robert just stares at you wide-eyed and mouth gaped open. He seems to regain himself and clears his own throat.

"Until the days run out..." he breathes.

"ти си моето семејство, во овој и во следниот живот," you both complete the passage. His Slavic being much rougher than yours, but still, he completes it.

"Huh," Robert grunts in the back of his throat. He slumps in the back of his chair, blinking as he clasps his hands together. "You really exist."

"Did you think I didn't?" You cocked your brow at him. 

Robert gives a short, humorless laugh. "To be fair, no one in my family has seen you for a very, very long time. It's not like we have a family photo of you just lying around. I thought my grandfather was lying to me, and my father was not a believer either."

"Well," you shrug, "It gets hard to keep up with visitations when there's no reason to really."

"Even though the passage literally says we're family?" Robert cocks his brow.

"Leo was my family. By that extension, yes, you are somewhat family, a wonderful legacy Leo left behind that I promised him I'd take care of," you try to delicately tell the man before you that no one could ever be family the way Leo was.

"Kind of hard to take care of us when you're not around," Robert says, but not in an unkind way.

"Being around is not the only way I can fulfill my promise. You truly think your family's trust fund just comes out of nowhere?" You rest your jaw against your hand. 

Robert seems surprised at that like he had no idea his entire family line was sponsored by you. 

"So it seems," Robert smiled softly before clearing his throat. "So what can I do for you?"

You lick your lips.

"I'm looking for you to find a way to break my curse, or at least, find a counterspell to suppress it until I can find another way," you tell him.

Robert stares at you. It takes a long moment, but he gives another small smile, sighing deeply as he grasps his temples. "Hah..." he lets out. "Figures the one time you come to see us for help, and I can't even help you. I was hoping you just needed a place to stay."

"What do you mean?" David asks, frowning. "You haven't even tried."

Robert looks up again, staring at David before he turns to you.

"I don't have the affinity for alchemy."

Silence ensues after Robert reveals his lack of gift. 

"You...don't have the affinity..." David says slowly.

"Guess it decided to skip a generation. My father wasn't much of a practitioner either," Robert pursed his lips together. He gets up, walking over to the kitchen, grabbing something off the refrigerator before coming back and passing the item to you. "This would be the person to go to if you're looking for help on that."

You look at the postcard in your hand with an address from Vermont. 

There wasn't anything else but a name and a short message.

Liam Bai I have settled in. 

"And who is this?" You frown. The idea of having some outsider know your secrets was not ideal. 

Robert sighs.

"He's my adoptive brother."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The annoyance of traveling all the way to Texas just to go to Vermont, an hour away from New York, irks you slightly. 

David pulls up a file on Liam on the way, but not too much is found. 

Chinese descendant. 26. Tattoo Artist. Adopted by Robert's grandfather when Liam was 17. 

He seems to run a small tattoo shop in Vermont, a decent following on his Instagram. Other than that, it seemed Liam prized his privacy and peace. No tickets, no personal social media accounts, a minimal online presence. 

"Jeeze, this guy gives me serial killer vibes. Only weirdoes have such a small digital footprint," David curls his lips. 

"We all have virtually none too, David," you cock your brow at him.

"Case and point," David smirks back at you while Natasha and Wanda chuckle.

Liam's house is a little away from the city where his tattoo shop resides. There are houses but quite spread apart, and it only reaffirms how Liam likes his quiet. 

The trees are bare with autumn colored leaves on the ground. The air crisp and cleaner being away from the city. When the four of you approach Liam's home, it a quaint house, wider than it is taller, and painted a deep burned orange. 

Hopping up the steps, you cross your arms and tap your foot impatiently, turning to look at the open space while Natasha rang the doorbell and knocked on the door with her knuckles.

You hear footsteps within the house, stern steps as they lazily make their way to the door. 

When it opens, you turn, and your eyes widen along with everybody else's.

This man, at least six feet tall, towers over everyone as he casually lifts his arms high to lean against each side of the door with his left leg crossed lazily over his right. 

He wears a muscle shirt, most of the top part of his body exposed. 

Tattoos. 

Everywhere.

A large black ornate religious cross tattooed on his throat, while you could see most of the creations of hands branded across his front chest near his collarbones, fingers just about it meet at his jugular notch. Each arm had a full sleeve tattoo. 

His left arm was designed with a twisted snake going downwards, a bitten apple in its mouth, shrouded with leaves and vines. His right arm were things you didn't quite recognize but could guess it was alchemy spells, fully tattooed elaborate circles and symbols. Even his hands and fingers had symbols and shapes. 

He looks like belongs in a gang rather than the adopted grandson of a long line of priests. 

"Well," his voice is somewhat low but soft. "You must be the visitors my dear brother sent my way." The way he says dear brother has the slightest tone of amusement, and you're not sure what to make of it. 

You stare at him a bit longer because his face is much clearer than the photo David pulled up. His skin is fair with a cool complexion, thick brows, and tousled black hair that seems to be perfectly styled that way with his fringe cascading just above his eyebrows, parting to reveal his forehead. His almond-shaped eyes showed a deep dark brown, like the rich soils of the earth, but yet hold no warmth. 

He looks somewhat familiar, but you're not sure if it's just because you recognize those eyes in yourself once upon a time.

You look over to David, who has his jaw hanging as he stares at the man before them. You nudge him, drawing him out of whatever trance he was in as he coughs to clear his throat.

"Er, yes," David stutters before he rambles off everyone's name quickly. "Can I--can we come in?" David blinks, and Liam turns his head slowly, locking eyes with David. A moment passes, and you're about to speak up again when Liam stands straighter and turns to walk back into his house.

The four of you follow the man inside, looking at the place around you. Antique furniture, just like yourself, but there are shelves upon shelves of books. 

Liam walks into his kitchen, putting on a pot of hot coffee as he pours himself some, but doesn't offer any to anyone else. He then walks into his study room and leans against his desk, half-sitting on the edge.

"What are you looking for help with?" He asks, neither sounding reluctant or eager. 

"Robert mentioned you were adopted into the family because you had an affinity for alchemy," you say. "I'm assuming you know--"

"That you're a vampire?" Liam cuts in. "Yes."

"You don't seem surprised by that," David interjects slowly. "Even Robert was taken aback."

Liam rolled his eyes lightly. "You can spare me the details. Robert and I both went through the spiel with his grandfather. Robert doesn't have the affinity. I do. Belief is different when you are different too."

"His grandfather...?" You raise your brow.

Liam puts his coffee down beside him. "You must realize that though I've been adopted by them, I'm not an actual descendant of Leonard Devayan. It was clear that I was brought in to help fulfill the promise between you and Leonard. I get financial support from them, but I'm not entitled to your trust fund to them, nor can I inherit the church."

"That's kind of fucked up, considering you'll be doing all the work here," you frown. 

Liam shrugs. "No need to feel sorry for me, I have zero interests in their money or inheriting the church, and Robert is annoyingly persistent that I visit them during the holidays. Besides, you can probably tell, I don't quite look like the regular priest."

"Actually," you give Liam a small smile, "Leo was rather similar to you. He liked tattoos as well. Though, just on his hands. He wasn't as adventurous."

Liam gave a small smirk but moved on. "So," he takes a breath, "What exactly are you looking for help with. Robert wasn't clear on the phone. Are you looking to turn more people and need searings for the sun?"

"No," you breathe, "I need you to help figure out how to end my curse."

Liam stares at you for a moment. The curse wasn't discussed in great length to him as not too much information was passed down because Leonard believed you wouldn't try to ask to remove it again. 

Still, he eyes you before he turns and studies Natasha a bit before Liam looks at Wanda.

"You bit her, spreading your curse to her," Liam deduces. 

"How do you know it's Wanda?" Natasha asks with a slight narrow of her eyes.

Liam licks his lip as he stands up, using his fingers to gesture everyone to follow up. He walks up to his bookshelf and pulls a book down like a lever, and the entire bookshelf splits and makes way into a secret room.

Inside the room, there are rows of tables filled with papers and things you would find in a science lab: beakers, stirring rods, mortars and pestles, and chemicals.

"In some ways, alchemy is a derivative from a witch's spells or magic. What do you think alchemy is?" Liam asks. 

"Leonard always said it was a power given to them by God to be able to protect themselves against the supernatural," you recall.

"Kind of, not really," Liam says as he walks over to grab a black chalk and begins to draw circles and symbols on the ground around Wanda, motioning her to stay in place. "There are different types and levels of alchemy. Alchemy, one on hand, can also be a science. It's changing one thing to something else. Anyone could practice it. Even Robert could to a degree."

Liam finishes drawing and drops the chalk to the side as he dusts off his hands. 

"But to have the gift for alchemy," Liam lifts his thumb to his lips, "Means your DNA has an affinity to the sun, the moon, the wind, or the earth." 

Liam bites down on his thumb hard enough to break the skin, blood rushing out, the smell assaulting both you and David instantly before Liam presses his thumb against the line of the circle. 

The air changes. 

A white, hot electric buzz fills the air as the alchemy circle flashes a bright blue for a second before returning to normal. The chalk drawing underneath Wanda disappears.

"What...happened?" Wanda asks slowly as she looks at her hands and the rest of her body, but she doesn't find anything amiss. 

Liam gestures at Wanda to check where her sternum is. Pulling the front of her shirt at the neck, she peers down. 

"What..." Wanda mumbles. 

Both you and Natasha looked at each other before moving forward to check, Wanda holding her shirt open for the two of you. Wanda's bra was blocking part of the view, but her sternum now visibly bore the curse's inscription. The black words on her skin and then dark-colored veins prominently spreading outwards from her sternum.

"What did you do to her?!" You whip your head towards Liam, snarling at him.  

He holds his hand up to calm you down.

"Nothing dangerous, relax," he cocks his brow at you. "As I said, Alchemy is about changing one thing to something else. I used the chalk as a medium to bring the curse to the front of Wanda's body so it can be visibly seen."

When you realize Wanda's not in any imminent danger, you pull your snarl back, and the red from your eyes fade away. 

"This will help you tell when the curse is spreading. Wanda's veins will darken and spread as her cells deteriorate. Don't EVER let the dark veins spread past her chest. If you do, the curse is meant to collapse her sternum and pierce her heart. She will die." Liam warns sternly, eyebrows furrowed together, and lips in a straight line. 

"How do you know?" David asks with a slight frown.

"As I said," Liam looked at David, "Alchemy is a derivative from witch's spell or magic. The inscriptions are alchemy transmutation spells. If an alchemist has an affinity for alchemy, they can tell when it's been used on someone." Liam turns to you. "That's how I know it was Wanda that you bit."

You nod curtly. You think about how the veins were just barely protruding from her sternum, so Wanda would be relatively safe for a while since you just fed on her during the plane ride to Texas.

"What did you mean that your DNA has an affinity to the sun, moon, wind, or the earth?" Natasha asks.

You turn your attention back to Wanda, trying to inspect if she was indeed okay. It wasn't that you didn't trust Liam, but you couldn't help but worry.

All of this was your fault.

The fact that Wanda was cursed with potentially no way of getting out of this.

And the complicated mess you know would only hurt everyone in the end, so you needed to get this shit sorted out.

"It means," Liam interrupted your thoughts. "I have an extra DNA strand."

You blink.

"Honestly, I don't blame people in the past, believing alchemy was a gift or power given by God," Liam shrugs. "In a way, I guess they're not wrong. Alchemy's affinity comes from people who have an extra DNA strand from one of the natural elements. The sun, the moon, the wind, the earth." He uses his fingers to count as he speaks. "Having an extra DNA strand is a...mutation. The deformity being able to perform alchemy as a power. As you can guess, depending on what extra DNA strand you have, that's the alchemy you have an affinity to."

Natasha nods thoughtfully as she holds her chin. "I see. So the sun would be fire, the moon would be water, the wind would be air, and the earth is well...earth."

"Exactly," Liam nods.

"Leonard must've been fire," you say pensively to yourself, reminiscing. 

"What are you?" David asks Liam, licking his lips.

Liam tilts his head to the side.

"I have four extra DNA strands."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Something has been putting you on edge since you've arrived in Vermont.

"Are you okay?" Natasha asks softly, catching you look out the window for maybe the millionth time now. 

"Yeah, sorry," you breathe, uncrossing your arms. "It's just...something feels off," you tell her quietly, as to not attract the attention from others.

Liam and Wanda were currently looking over his books and scrolls to see if he could find anything that would help Wanda while David helped them.

"What do you mean?" Natasha asks as she takes a seat on the couch's armrest, pulling you closer, so you were between her legs. She rubs your arms up and down, hoping to comfort you.

"It's just..." you start to say before you turn sharply at the window again. Natasha's brows furrow, but she has no time to ask as you barrel into her while David tackles both Liam and Wanda to the ground. 

The glass of the window shatters as a body breaks through. It happens so fast, you hardly even have time to move, but you do. 

You smell burning flesh because there's still sun out, though it's setting. A snarl rips through the air as the intruder turns and leaps toward Wanda. David gets up, forcing his feet to push off the ground as he launches towards the vampire. The two of them collide into a blurring mess. 

Natasha starts to get up, but you hold her in place.

"What--"

"Don't," you warn her. "If that thing collides into you, your body will tear apart, enhanced, or not."

You get up, running over to David as he's pinned to the ground as you rip off the vampire. 

Even with his fleshed burned, he was strong. 

Liam scrambles to get up as he grabs another chalk nearby and starts drawing another transmutation circle on the ground as fast as he can. 

You're trying with David to get the upper hand on this vampire, one locking him into place while the other tries to rip his head off.

"Wanda," Liam calls, and she turns to him with worry in her eyes as she stands in the corner, unsure of what to do. "I'm creating a prison for him. You need to use your powers to place him in here and keep him down."

"Okay," Wanda says determinedly. 

You look at David, who nods in sync with you. You both let go of the vampire at once, and Wanda lifts her hands, casting her powers over the vampire to lock it in place.

He tries to thrash in place, but it's impossible to move with Wanda's vice-like grip on him. She wobbly moves him until he's in the middle of Liam's transmutation circle. 

Liam bites in the same place of his thumb earlier, breaking the wound once more, letting a single drop of blood fall in. 

The ground starts to shake slightly as the floor where the vampire lies crumbles, giving way. The outline of the circle lights up, and suddenly, vine-like branches with spikes shoot out of the ground. It wraps around the intruding vampire, the spikes piercing his body. He screams out in pain, trying to move, but is unable to due to Liam.

The light fades, leaving the vampire bleeding out as he's trapped in his spot.

"What...was that?" Wanda asked, everyone clearly knowing that he was after her.

You help Natasha off from the ground, checking her for injuries. You find nothing other than a tiny cut on her cheek from a stray glass shard.

"I'm okay," Natasha assures you, more frustrated with herself for being unable to do anything. 

You frown, wiping off some of the blood with your glove before you turn to the offender on the ground. 

"That was so cool," David breathes as he looks at Liam, who is giving him a tiny smile.

With the vampire immobile, you could finally take a good look. 

He was somewhat sickly pale. His eyes were red, a dark red, meaning he wasn't hungry when he lunged for Wanda. 

But the thing that stood out the most to you what the prominent veins underneath his eyes.

And you've seen that before. 

"No," you frown in denial. 

"Where did you come from?" You demand, but the vampire just smirks.

You want to leap in to strangle the thing, but Liam holds your arm to hold you back. 

"Anything that steps into that circle will be roped in just like him," Liam warns.

The vampire continues to bleed out as it laughs.

"Wait--" David says, "he's actually dying. Look!"

Everyone looks to where David is pointing at, and you clench your jaw. As a vampire, the only thing that could kill you was wood from the Methuselah tree. Yet, this vampire was disintegrating, turning to dust at his toes.

The vampire looks at you, and you feel a chill down your spine.

"How cute," he tells you, voice raspy as he's disappearing. "Looks like you have everything you've wanted."

You furrow your brows at him.

"Do I know you?" You say, but the vampire doesn't even seem conscious of the fact that he's speaking. 

"My love," he says, looking at you, and while you revolt, there's something familiar in the way he says it. 

Like you've heard it before.

"It seems you've learned how to want more," he smiles cruelly. "But if it's not more for the right things...then I'll show you what it's like to lose everything you have."

Your heart drops.

"Wait!" You shout, trying to somehow get him to stay, but before you could say anything else, the vampire completely crumbles to dust, leaving nothing behind.

All of you stare at the empty space. The shackles that were holding the vampire in place disappears along with the transmutation circle.

"No," you start to say quietly. "No, no, no, no--"

"Hey!" David grabs you, trying to keep you calm.

"This can't be," you say slowly.

"What? What's wrong?" David shakes you by the shoulder a little. 

You look at him.

"That was her."

Silence.

"What?" David says, not understanding. 

You look at the ground where the vampire used to be.

"I don't know how...but that was her," you say.

"That was Tatyana."

PART XIII

[malfoysbtch]

Different With You

Draco Malfoy x Female Ravenclaw Reader

Request: @dracosathenaeum I have a request! You're playing quidditch when you get hit with a quaffle or something and Draco freaks out/gets over protective? It's been collecting dust in my idea's list so I want to see someone bring it to life! ❤️❤️

A/N: I hope it’s okay that the reader is in Ravenclaw, I wanted to make it a little bit different than my others :) I hope you love it, I’m so happy I could write something for you!❤️

Quickly putting on your blue quidditch robes, you talked excitedly to Cho about the game that was about to begin. You were playing against Slytherin and you were slightly nervous, as they needed this win to make it to the finals against Gryffindor; they were notorious for playing dirty and you were sure their need to win would only cause it to worsen. As your anxiety and excitement increased, your team grabbed your brooms and made your way onto the pitch, a mixture of excited screams and boos greeting you from the stands. Your heart raced with adrenalin as you looked around the stands, a powerful feeling taking over your body; you were a chaser for the team and nothing made you feel more powerful than the wind rushing through your hair as you raced across the pitch to score a goal.

The captains of each of your teams shook hands before Madam Hooch blew her whistle. Mounting your broom, you immediately took off and raced towards the quaffle that soared into the air. You leaned forward on your broom, increasing your speed and catching it before the Slytherin chaser could; you were quickly weaving in and out of players, trying to avoid losing the quaffle or getting hit. Even as Slytherin players bumped harshly against you, you refused to lose speed and continued to focus on your goal that was becoming closer and closer. Throwing the quaffle, it soared past the keeper and through the middle goal, earning Ravenclaw ten points.

The crowd once again was a mixture of cheers and boos, the game continuing on and each team scoring points repeatedly, making it a very close game. You were shocked when, over an hour into the game, your team was 60points ahead of Slytherin. You could see the team becoming angry and frustrated, their players getting increasingly more aggressive as the minutes passed. You struggled to focus on your grip on the quaffle as the Slytherin beaters pressed against you on either side, trying to knock you off your broom or throw you off course. While you could handle the team being physical and aggressive, you soon found yourself being the target of the beaters. Multiple times they ‘accidentally’ hit you with their batsand hit the bludger in your direction, clearly trying to knock you off your broom. The fouls they received for their actions didn’t seem to faze them, as they continued release their aggression on you and it was becoming rather painful.

You knew you were covered in bruises and you were beginning to worry that very soon you wouldn’t be so lucky as to avoid one of their bludgers again. Your captain called a time out and you noticed that even the Slytherin team gathered around, the beaters looking very proud even as Draco Malfoy, their seeker, seemed to be angrily talking to them. Part of you wondered if he was angry about what they were doing, but you quickly shook that thought out of your head; the two of you merely shared smiles in the hallway and a quick ‘hello’ when nobody was around, hardly ever having had a full conversation.

You shook your head and began to focus on what your captain was saying, “We need to end this game quickly, someone’s going to get hurt; they’re close enough to knocking Y/N off her broom.” Everyone on the team agreed and the captain began talking directly to your seeker, Cho, about quickly finding the snitch and ending the game. She looked determined and ready to end the game; to earn Ravenclaw a win. Everyone mounted their brooms once more and the game began with full force.

You weren’t sure what Malfoy had said to his team, though it seemed to only make things worse. They had begun to get more forceful with their swings at you and before you knew it, the bludger was racing towards you with more force than you could honestly say you expected. This time, however, you hadn’t saw it coming in time to avoid it and felt the force collide with your shoulder and roll up to hit the side of your head. The last thing you felt was the crunch of your shoulder and the wind rushing through your hair and sharpening the pain as you fell from your broom, the world going dark.

~

“He got into a fight?” you asked your best friend Luna. Your brows were furrowed as you tried to imagine the encounter. She had just explained how Draco Malfoy got into a fight with his teammate, Bole, and about how he was yelling about you. You weren’t sure you heard her quite right and asked her to say that again. “It was quite strange really, it sounded like he was defending you. Are you friends?” she smiled at you, almost as if she knew the answer already.

Your cheeks tinted as you looked at your hands. Yes, the two of you actually were kind of friends, you supposed. “I don’t really know,” you mumbled, sighing slightly. The conversation ended there, as she went on to discuss Transfiguration class the day before. You couldn’t really focus on what she was saying, as your head began to ache; you couldn’t stop thinking of why Draco would’ve done that for you. Especially in front of everyone.

“I’ll let you rest, I think I’m talking to myself now,” she smiled, seeming not to care that you weren’t listening. After apologizing and saying goodbye, you were left alone with your thoughts and the throbbing pain in your head. You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies in your tummy as you thought about him defending you. Your face flushed and you felt giddy; you’d never felt this way about someone before. You weren’t usually one for little crushes, as you mostly kept to your small friend circle. Your thoughts were interrupted, as Madam Pomfrey came over with a potion for your pain. The potion tasted terrible, but the relief was nearly instant, as your muscles relaxed, and a dreamless sleep took over.

~

You groaned as Snape called you to stay after potions class; it had been nearly a week since the accident, but your headaches were only just subsiding. Madam Pomfrey said it could be up to a month before they went away completely. You knew you had done poorly on the assignment, but you found it difficult to focus once the headache took over.

“Miss Y/L/N, I understand the circumstances, but I cannot continue to excuse your work.”

The words added to the pounding in your head, echoing as you walked slowly up the stairs to the Great Hall, your muscles tense with stress. In a haze, you found yourself sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table, not really wanting to socialize. You were trying to eat as much as you could, as you knew you couldn’t continue to skip meals; you often found yourself sleeping through mealtimes.

“Why all alone?” Your head shot up much too quickly, causing you to grab onto the person to keep from falling. When your head cleared from the dizziness, you confirmed your assumption: the voice belonged to Draco Malfoy. Your heart thumped in your chest, making it difficult to regain what little composure you already had before. “Headache,” you paused for a second, studying him; he was completely serious and didn’t seem to care about the people that were staring. “Did you really defend me?” You spoke quickly, finally asking him the question that had eaten away at you.

Draco’s lips turn up in a small smile, “Yes. Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” Your heart skipped a beat; he actually noticed you were avoiding him. You made eye contact with him, thinking of an appropriate response. “I don’t particularly want to talk about this here,” you crossed your arms, wincing at the pain in your head. You thought maybe he would get up and leave, not caring if you explained yourself or not. You were shocked when, instead of leaving you, he held out his hand to help you out of your seat.

He noticed your confused expression and laughed, “You don’t want to talk about it here, well I have a perfectly private prefect’s dorm.” Your eyebrows raised in shock, a flirty grin taking over your features. “Well alright then,” you let go of his hand once you were on your feet and gestured for him to lead the way. It was a rather interesting walk back to the dungeons, as he seemed rather concerned and asked you questions about your injuries, specifically your head.

You had just finished explaining everything when you reached his dorm. You were more interested than you cared to admit as you followed him inside, looking around at his decorations and random possessions. You enjoyed the green and silver theme and, while his room wasn’t anything crazy, you learned a little bit more about him by seeing it.

Once you were done looking around, you found yourself awkwardly standing in the middle of the room while he stood leaning against his dresser. Oh my god, you thought to yourself, I’ve hardly ever had a full conversation with him, let alone been alone in his bedroom of all places. You felt your face flush a deep shade of red at the thought. You weren’t willing to admit your feelings, but they were undeniable as you made eye contact with the boy standing a few feet away from you. You could tell he was trying to decide what to do or say next, while you tried to figure him out. Why was he being so nice to you?

“You can sit, you know,” he motioned to his bed shyly, “I know your head was bothering you.” You quickly accepted the invitation, getting comfortable sitting with your legs crisscross. “What made you care all of a sudden? We’ve never even had a full conversation,” you narrowed your eyes at him playfully, trying to cover how nervous you really were. Laughing a little, he crosses his arms defensively, “I didn’t see you trying to make conversation either.”

You find yourself giggling at him, knowing you can’t argue. He spoke before you could, a small smile playing on his lips, “It’s not that I didn’t want to talk to you and, really, I’ve always cared. I’m just not good at these things.” Smiling, you found yourself staring at the boy a few feet away from you, enjoying the way he looked at you. He seemed to have a gentle tone when speaking with you and, while you never truly talked to him, you knew it wasn’t his usual tone.

“Yeah, I’m not very good at them either…,” you found your voice drifting off as he came to sit next to you on the bed.

He was very close to you, causing your cheeks to flush. “I’ve been avoiding you because I think I like you and I didn’t wanna face that,” your eyes widened as you blurted this out. Before you could do anything else, he laced his fingers with yours. “Why do you think I fought him? I told him not to mess with you. Even if you’re not mine no one is allowed to mess with you.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you looked at him, taking in his words. Leaning closer, you pressed your lips against his, easing into him and relaxing into the kiss. His hands quickly made their way to your waist, pulling you to straddle him. You were giggling again as you broke apart, “I could be yours, you know. You just never asked.” His lips formed a big smile, pulling you closer by your hips and planting a long kiss on your lips before whispering in your ear, “Well you’re mine now.”

~

Over the following weeks, you and Draco spent all of your free time together, learning more about one another and quickly falling love. You couldn’t be happier to be Draco’s and he felt the same about you.

It was close to a month after the two of you became official and you were currently trying to sneak into his dorm. You were giggling as he pulled you behind him, walking quickly so you wouldn’t be around others long enough to be questioned. Everyone was used to you being around anyway, and they all knew better by that point than to mess with you; you were with Draco.

As soon as he closed his door, you were lifted off the ground and his lips were on yours. His lips moved quickly against yours, his tongue slipping past your lips to move with your own. As he placed you on the bed he pulled away before connecting his lips with your neck. This didn’t last long, as you were soon pulling him to meet your lips again. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he breathes, letting himself plop down beside you.” You pulled him close, cuddling into his chest. Your Draco was sweet, loving, protective. He wasn’t what everyone thought he was, and you felt so lucky that you got to see that side of him. He wasn’t hateful, rude, or careless. He was your Draco and you were happy to stand next to him, to be next to him through everything life threw at the pair of you.

“I could say the same.”

[i-dont-want-your-hysteria]

The Hangover (Def Leppard x Reader)

(Happy birthday to my blog!! To celebrate 3 years of the place where I concentrate my insane Leppard obsession, I thought I’d celebrate by posting the FIRST Def Leppard fanfic I EVER wrote ((which I have NEVER posted anywhere before!)) I began writing this exactly 3 years ago today- the day I made this blog ((February 19th, 2018))- and officially finished it about a year later. This is not intended as a romantic/sexual fic, it’s simply just an x reader in which the reader is basically one of the guys. In other words, it’s on crack.)

((I am aware this is kind of cringe-worthy at times... but I still like a lot of things about it. While I revised it very slightly before queuing it,  I was still 16 when I started writing this, okay... gimme a break...))

(Illustration by @paper-sxn​)

Words: 8,684 Prompt: Dublin, 1984. You’re with the Leppards in their early pre-Hysteria era house. You all wake up with hangovers after a boozed-up night at home, and you each try to put the pieces of the previous night back together. Meanwhile, you’re praying that one particular piece won’t fit in anywhere... (partially inspired by the “Blitzgiving” and “The Pineapple Incident” episodes of How I Met Your Mother)

-----

Gently piercing white light made its way through the windows of the bedroom. It hit your eyelids, and it hit your brain, igniting a brief but killer headache. As your eyes clasped together more, you turned your face into the gloriously soft pillow. For a second you asked yourself why you would have a headache so early in the morning, but then…

You laughed quietly into the bed, recalling without warning some vague happenings from the night before. There wasn’t much you remembered, but you clearly saw the image of the guys flat out drunk at some point (you along with them). There were some blips of you all singing together, Sav hanging from a door frame, you chugging some scotch, Joe chugging some vodka, Steve’s hair being in pigtails, and you think Phil might’ve been giving you a lap dance... or vice versa. It was, all in all, hysterical (at least- that’s what you wanted to think).

 Other than those faint events, unfortunately, the night was gone. Still, you were thrilled that it happened. Crazy times with your boys were always good.

You rubbed your eyes, ready for more sleep to combat the pounding in your head. When you did, they opened a little, and you realized… this wasn't your room you were in. Squinting around, you noticed that you were sleeping in Phil’s room instead of yours.

Oh, it’s not that much of a problem, you mused, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. I’ve woken up to worse in this place.

You let your eyes close again easily, and you found peace as you began to fall under again. That is, until you felt someone move next to you.

When it happened, you became aware of the warmth coming from someone else in the bed. They only shifted in their sleep a little bit before going still again. Your eyes went wide, and you held your breath. You don’t remember getting into bed with someone (in fact, you don’t remember getting into bed at all). Turning your head, you looked to see what sort of stranger was in bed with you currently. Instead of a stranger, scraggly blonde hair over a kind and shy face met your sight, and you were instantly calmed upon realizing that it was just Steve. That was good, that was good, but why were you and Steve sleeping in Phil’s bed? You were sure you didn’t have sex last night- at least, not with Steve. This tiny moment of appeasement and confusion was cut short by the faint sound of guitar chords coming from downstairs. The music echoed to your ears, signaling that it had to be Phil, and that he was playing the opening to Bringin On the Heartbreak. Cautiously taking the covers off you- not wanting to wake Steve- you felt obliged to go to the other guitarist. When you stood up and began walking, you nearly fell forward from the sudden vertigo of your hangover. You had to hold onto the counter of Phil’s dresser for extra support, and that’s when your reflection in his mirror caught your eye. Not only that, but that’s when your outfit also caught your eye. One of the guys’ Union Jack tank tops had been slipped over you somehow, and two hand prints were on either side of your face in dried paint; one was blue, one was green. "What…?“ you whispered, touching your face and feeling the shirt on you. It seemed to fit you alright, which made you wonder whose it really was. You were also in black underwear, and nothing else. While eyeing yourself, you took notice of Steve in the reflection. You now saw a few big red lipstick stains on his face, untouched and unsmudged. It was pretty cute, you had to admit, but another thing that came to your attention was that it wasn’t you who was wearing the lipstick at the moment. So then who kissed Steve all over his face? You treaded carefully down the hallway, putting one foot in front of the other and dragging a hand on the wall for support. The melody of the distant guitar didn’t cease the whole time you trekked through the house to get to Phil. When the chords of the song dragged on to the part where the vocals should have begun, no vocals came. Everything in the house looked remarkably the same (despite everything you remember from last night). There were large, ripped pieces of cardboard in the middle of the hallway;  scattered out as if leaving a trail. Alongside that, there was a piece of paper labeled “pay 2 the orerr of Rick: one fuckin bendee straw” in what may have been Sav’s handwriting on top of the stairs, and blue paint smudged on the railing going downwards (guaranteeing that whoever did that eventually got to your face, too).

Step by step you descended as the scenery of the house teetered around you (a little too reminiscent of Me & My Wine, you would add). When you reached the bottom of the stairs and looked into the living room, sure enough, Phil was there, strumming away.

“But it’s easy come and easy go…” he hummed.

“You’re…” you mumbled, burped a little, and continued, “Awake. How?” He stopped playing and crossed his arms, quietly sassing you, “Ah, she rises again. You regrettin’ anything yet?” You blinked and rubbed your eyes, scratching a little bit of paint off of your face and inquiring in a scratchy, tired tone, “I guess so… but- how? You, how?” Phil took off his guitar and stood up with his hands in his pockets, “Because I barely drank at all last night, and I also sure as hell didn’t shag Steve in someone else’s bed!” “How do you mean- I didn’t- wait- and Steve- what?” you rubbed your head, getting dizzy, causing Phil to guide you to the couch. “I didn’t- I didn’t shag Steve last night,” you insisted. “Mm hmm,” the guitarist hummed disapprovingly, “Alright.” “What the hell are you on about?” Phil smirked evilly and laughed, “He carried you upstairs, we heard the door close, and then some rather happy noises were heard, so we all just assumed-!” “That’s not-” you swallowed and lay your head back on the couch, “-a valid assumption.” “Oh, you poor thing,” came the sarcastic remark, “You really don’t remember, do you?” “Well I figured if I ever fucked any one of you I would- you know- remember it!” you raised your voice at him, then rubbed your temples. “I’m touched, really. But I’ll fill you in a bit,” Phil yanked up his guitar he’d put down, placed himself next to you, and played the into to “Ballroom Blitz”. Then a bit of the night came back to you. “Oh... that’s what started it all, didn’t it?”

~The night before~ Rick began banging out a tune on his drum kit in the house with you, Sav, and Steve sitting close by, them being at the ready with their guitars. “You ready, Steve?” you mimicked the original lyrics. “Uh-huh,” he replied exactly like Steve Priest in the original song. “Savy?” you said next. “Yeah,” Sav bopped his head to the beat. “Rick?” “Okay.” “Alright, fellas,” you called out, “Let’s go!” The two guitarists let their instruments ring out around the house, playing the all-too-familar tune. As soon as they started this, the front door opened, and none other than Phil and Joe walked in. Joe was holding a bag that was weighed down by the mass inside it (a painfully obvious sign that there were a few bottles of booze). Although the two of them weren’t talking, they were physically hushed upon hearing the situation you and the others had created. “Oh life’s been getting so hard, living with the things you do to me…” you sang lowly and quietly along with the music being made, just to make sure the musicians knew their places. You noticed Phil run out of the room in excitement, and into the one where he keeps his guitars. Joe, on the other hand, stayed put and watched the rest of you from afar, fighting a smile. “My dreams are getting so strange, I’d like to tell you everything I see…” You stood up, and Joe began walking towards you when you called out the next line of the song, “Oh- I see a man in the back, as a matter of fact, his eyes are as red as a sun!” Joe chimed in without warning at the next line, putting an arm on your shoulder and pointing at you, “And the girl in the corner, let no one ignore her, ‘cos she thinks she’s the passionate one!” *** “It’s, it’s a ballroom blitz, it's, it's a ballroom blitz,” Phil sang the ending teasingly to you when he put his guitar back. It felt like he was rubbing his energy in your face (since you lacked it). Before Phil could continue, Joe suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Yeah! It’s a ballroom blitz!” he announced, throwing his arms into the air and taking a bow. He sounded a bit tipsy still. Joe was wearing his Union Jack shorts, but no shirt. Instead of a shirt, though, he had the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” sloppily painted across his chest in blue and green paint. Right over his nipples there were also two handprints, almost exactly matching the ones on your face. Joe stumbled in the doorway, falling to his knees and groaning in discomfort, “Ohh... probably should’ve stayed in bed.” Phil sluggishly trekked over to the singer and pulled him partially to his feet, yanking him towards the couch, “Oh yeah? And by ‘bed’, you mean-?” “Definitely not the bathtub.” Joe assured him, but winked at you. “No matter where you slept, it’s still not as bad as where she slept,” Phil pointed at you, “And what she did there.” “Why? What’d you do?” Joe’s tipsiness wore away in his sentence, making him sound genuinely concerned and curious. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what Phil was going to say, “Phil, I-” “It’s not what she did, it’s who she did- she shagged Steve in my bed!” the guitarist accused you again while pointing a finger. Immediately Joe exclaimed, “Nice!” and held up a hand to high-five you. “Joe!” you scolded him, surprised that he took this as good news. “Oh-uh, not… nice?” he took away the offer of a high-five and scratched the back of his head awkwardly instead, “Also, is that my shirt?” You took a look down at the Union Jack tank top you were wearing and back at Joe’s torso. Then something clicked in your head. “Ohh…” you continued staring at Joe’s chest, feeling yourself blush as old memories unraveled in your head, “I think... I think I remember something else that happened last night.” *** You were all drunk; it was no lie. After your quick jam session, there was a booze-filled music fest going on in the house. Joe had even put on his Union Jack outfit, pretending he was getting ready for a show. At one particular point of this “festival” you'd all created, records were being played, and you ended up dancing in front of Joe to REO Speedwagon’s “Take It On the Run”. “You’re bringing up your white lines, you’re pullin’ on a bedroom eyes, you say you’re going home, but I won’t say when,” you sang the wrong lyrics as you swayed and drunkingly made flirty faces at Joe on the couch. Sav, meanwhile, was playing with some old craft paint off in the corner. The blue and green substances were all over his hands (but somehow, one color managed to stay on each hand). “Yeah, you dance for him, Y/N!” Rick cheered you on from the kitchen as Steve and Phil sat on the couch. Phil was perfectly sober, and Steve was giggling and laying with his head on Phil’s lap. You, on the other hand, were now moving closer to the singer, almost like you were giving him a lap dance. “You take it on the run, baby,” you sang along, slowly taking Joe’s Union Jack tank top off of him (with no objections from below), “If that’s the way you wanna, baby...” In return to Joe being shirtless, you slowly took off your own shirt (triggering wolf-whistles and cheers from the guys) to replace it with Joe’s tank. “Sav, mark him up!” you ordered the painted bassist in the corner as you tried to dress yourself. He happily made his way over to you and questioned, “What should I mark him with?” A single hazy idea came to you, and you eagerly whispered it into Sav’s ear. He giggled in response, and proceeded to move over to Joe, drawing something on his chest in the paint. To keep Joe from looking at what it was, you went behind the chair and covered his eyes, ordering coyly, “No peeking!” “All done!” Sav announced and retreated back to whatever he was doing in the corner. “Now, wait, Sav!” you sped over to him, lifted his hands up, and double high-fived him, getting the paint on your hands as well. To finish off what Sav had started, you ran back over to Joe on the chair, and slapped your hands on his chest, right over his nipples. Laughter erupted from everyone in the room (including Joe) and you repeated Sav’s words. “All done!” Joe gazed down at the words “PROPERTY OF DEF LEPPARD” on his chest as you continued to dance to the song playing. “You’re mine, now! You take it on the run, baby... if that’s the way you want it, baby...” Joe tried to tell you in a sexy voice, “Am I your baby now?” “If that’s the way you want it baby,” you repeated the words from the song to him, “Now I’m done dancing for you! Somebody dance for me!” Steve began pointing at everyone individually, childishly suggesting, “It should be, eenie, meenie, miney, Phil!” “Why me?” Phil laughed in objection as you took a seat across the room. “Because you’re not wasted,” his terror twin argued, poking him on the nose. The sober guitarist looked over at you with happy anticipation, awaiting a comment, while all you did was wiggle your fingers at him with a goofy grin. After that, you returned the gesture to the man on his lap, giving Steve a sexy wink. *** “Oh my god...” you put your head in your hands shamefully as Phil and Joe giggled at the memory of the previous night, “I can’t believe I did all that...” “That was a treat!” Phil laughed, hugging you from the side and pulling you closer to him in consolation, “It was funny! We never get to see that side of you!” “There’s a certain reason why you don’t...” you moaned with embarrassment, then asked out of guilty curiosity, “How many times did I grab your ass during that lap dance...?" Phil thought for a bit before telling you, “Four. Well- four and a half...” You gave a loud groan of protest as Joe laughed and slumped back into the couch. “Oh, you only did those things because you weren’t thinking!” Phil consoled you, swayed back and forth with you in his arms. Joe chimed in, “Yeah, and see what happens when you don’t think? You do! Most importantly, you do Steve!” “I didn't do Steve!” you shot your head up and yelled at Joe. You received only laughs and snorts from both men in reply. Suddenly, Sav appeared on the staircase and began singing “Squeeze Box” by The Who with a tired yet cheeky smirk, “Mama’s got a squeeze box she wears on her chest, and when Stephen comes home, he never gets no rest-” Joe and Phil joined into his song with, “Cos' she’s playin’ all night, and the music’s alright! Mama’s got a squeeze box, Stephen never sleeps at night!” You just put your head back in your hands, trying not to accept your fate of being teased. You didn’t want to think that you possibly shagged Steve. He always seemed so innocent to you in a way, and you feared that this would kill your friendship. If everything the boys said was true, you would never hear the end of it, and you don’t even know what Steve would think of you from now on. Was it possible that he remembered anything about the night before? “It didn’t happen, it didn’t happen...” you repeated to yourself in a whisper as Phil unwrapped his arms from you. Sav came all the way down the stairs; his body language making him look grumpy with the world, but his tired grin signaling that he was pleased with seeing you. “Oh, it happened, sunshine!” the frizzy-haired bassist laughed, but quickly regretted it and rubbed his head with his still-painted hands, “Ah- yep, it happened. You could probably hear you two up the whole damn street.” As Sav wearily joined you all on the couch, Joe complained, “Sounds like that was a treat; I wish I remembered it!” Phil was caught off guard at the comment. His head turned to Joe in the blink of an eye and gasped, “Wait, you don’t remember hearing them?!” “I wish I could say I do, but there’s nothing there,” Joe stood up after he spoke, and quickly held onto the wall nearby. His hand went over his stomach as he whined, “Oh... fuck, Y/N, why did you make me race you last night?" “'Race me'?” you squinted as you inquired, “Race you with what?” Joe didn’t answer, but slowly took steps into the kitchen, using the wall as his guide. His answer came when you, Sav, and Phil all heard him throw up into the sink. You sighed, resting your hands over your eyes, trying to remember the cause of Joe’s sickness, “Oh no, was that really my idea?” *** “Look what I found!” you trotted into the room tipsily, holding two bottles; one of scotch, one of vodka, “Only half full! Who wants em?” While you weren’t full-on drunk, it was no secret that the title wasn’t that far away. After your little Ballroom Blitz, it was one beer after the next, then it was digging into the fancy liquors that Phil and Joe had just brought home. Your judgment was impaired, no doubt about it, and so was the judgment of all the guys. Joe even changed into his normal live-show-only Union Jack tank top, claiming that he was gonna "put on a show." The only one who was still sane and sober was Phil, who seemed to be staying away from your poison. Upon registering your sacred offer of alcohol, Rick ran forward, chanting, “Me! Me!” You lifted the bottles away from him, commanding, “Uh-uh! I get the scotch.” “Oh, bollocks, then you can keep the vodka,” the young drummer grumbled and turned away from you. Just as Rick rejected your offering, Joe sprung up and eagerly trotted over while shouting happily, “I’ll take it!” “Sold!” you handed the bottle over to him, “Betcha can’t finish before me!” “Betcha I can!” he sneered back before taking the cap off his bottle. There was no official “ready, set, go” for the race; you both just kind of went for it without any saying. While your throat and stomach were already protesting your actions (and you could almost sense that Joe’s were doing the same), you didn’t stop once; neither of you did. You held up your bottle and announced, “Done!” Looking over, you saw Joe was also finished. “I finished first!” “Nuh-uh!” you insisted, “It had to be me! Tell him, guys!” The four others hadn’t been paying attention to you and Joe’s little competition; they were instead focused on a box that Sav had pulled out from a cupboard. From the box they pulled out bottles of paint and various types of used makeup.

Joe scolded them all in a more sober manner, “Oh come on, you lot weren’t even watching!” “Yeah, yeah, it was probably a tie, anyways,” Rick chuckled, pulling out more items from the box. “This box is much more interesting, too," Phil protested, holding up a stick of lipstick as Sav held up two bottles of paint, "This is a box of makeup that I had for me and the lads in Girl! Just look at it all! Think we can have some fun with this?" "Oh, piss off," you threw the empty bottle onto the couch, "We need some music." Joe had slumped down onto a chair, and you stumbled your way over to the shelf with all the records on it, flipping through and eyeing them all as carefully as your body would let you. After only a few seconds of searching, your eyes lit up at a discovery. "Here's a good one!" you exclaimed as you pulled out a copy of Hi Infidelityby REO Speedwagon, "Let's give it a spin!" ***

Joe wandered back into the room and fell onto the empty couch with a grumble. “Sorry, Joe...” you muttered over to him, realizing that you pressured him into more consumption of the booze. “It was probably gonna happen anyway...” he admitted, wiping his hands over his face, “It’s was my stupid choice to go through with it.” “Woah,” Phil pointed out out of nowhere, looking at you with great surprise, “What’s that on your neck?” You felt your heart drop into your stomach. “What!?” you shot up from where you sat (bringing on more dizziness), and rushed over to a mirror. Once your dizziness subsided, and you could finally see your reflection, the pink shape of a hickey on the side of your neck was now clearly conspicuous. You wondered how you hadn't noticed it before. Joe exclaimed with a smug and proud grin, “Is that from Steve!?” You groaned angrily, feeling yourself become more and more defeated. “I can’t believe it,” you gasped, slapping a hand over the mark, “Something did happen between us-!” “Y/N,” Phil pointed out again, “There’s lipstick on your thigh...” Looking down at your legs, you saw that he was right. There was a single red symbol on your right thigh that marked a kiss from the night before. Upon seeing this, what you saw when you woke up popped into your head. “Looks like Steve went to town down there,” Sav smirked at you, only wanting to rub it in more. “Guys,” you softly noted, “That wasn’t Steve... he has lipstick marks all over his face from someone else...” The three men all exchanged confused looks with each other. There was a dead end to the story of the previous night. None of them knew how to solve the mystery of the lipstick. Not even Phil, who was as good as sober 12 hours ago, didn’t have any input. Sav suddenly blurted out, “Wait a minute, I know what happened- I think...” No one said anything, but eagerly leaned forward, ready to hear the tale the bassist had to tell. “You lot remember how we found that box of old makeup last night?” he began, “Well, I walked into the bathroom with you afterwards, Y/N...” *** Rick looked at himself in the mirror in the bathroom, carefully applying the makeup to his lips, and being extra careful to not get it on the blazer he was wearing. The drummer put on his best suit just to see how it would look with the makeup he was putting on. He thought he was doing a good job for the most part; he didn’t look half bad at all! It was far easier than he expected it to be, and wondered if he was good enough to help you with your makeup at times. Thinking of you seemed to have made you appear in the doorway next to him. Both of your hands were still covered in paint. “Sink,” was all you commanded of the drummer. He moved without a word and you began to wash your hands. At the same instant, Sav appeared nearby. He grabbed the doorframe and began to swing from it, leaving conspicuous handprints afterwards. “Aren’t you gonna wash up, too?” Rick crossed his arms to sass him. “Nah, I want the colors, they’re makin’ me feel- colorful...” Sav grinned, walking over to you at the sink, requesting, “C’mere.” You looked up, only to have your face taken in Sav’s paint-covered hands. He softly giggled as you squared your vision in on him with a sneer. “Rude,” you teased, then went back to washing your hands; paint now all over your face. “What’s really rude,” Rick pulled back the shower curtain and taking a step into the tub, “Is you two interrupting my makeup time! Good night!” He sat himself down in the tub and laid himself down as if he was going to sleep.

Before he had the chance to catch some shut-eye, you marched over to the tub and objected, “Rick, if you’re gonna sleep, I want a goodnight kiss first.” Without another word, Rick sat up and planted a kiss on your thigh (since it was closest to him). There was now a bright red imprint of his lips on your leg. “Thank you.” you smiled down at him, “Now goodnight.” “Don’t leave the water on, you hear?” Sav nagged him, pointing a colored finger, “You’ll drown." Rick chuckled with his eyes closed, “I’ll drink myself out. I'm in a drinkin mood, anyways." “Oh yeah? You haven’t got a straw or anything,” the intoxicated bassist continued to argue with him. “Then don’t let me drown! Get one!" “I’ll get you one later. I’ll just-“ Sav burped, and continued, “I’ll write a note or something.” “Sounds good, mate,” Rick slumped further into the tub and pulled the curtain closed, “Now you gonna stay here all night?” “Actually,” you noted out loud to yourself, different alcoholic emotions boiling up inside you, “I wanna go downstairs- I just need to see Steve- like right now...!" You turned on your heels, speeding past Sav and flying back down the stairs. *** “So that explains the paint on my face, and the paper in the hallway, and the lipstick, but what happened after that?” you asked Sav, as you were now slumped on top of Phil’s arm again. “Beats me,” Sav ran his still-painted hands through his hair, “That’s all I’ve got.” “But wait, if you said that Rick fell asleep in the bathtub...” Phil began his sentence, only for you and the other two men to exchange knowing looks with each other. All four of you immediately sprung up and rushed (as much as you could) up the stairs and into the bathroom. Upon getting there, Phil flung back the shower curtain to reveal a partially awake Rick, dressed in a suit, and still wearing the lipstick from the night before. “Mornin’,” he groaned as he stretched, then winced, “Ah, fuck- sleeping in here wasn’t the best idea for me neck.” Sav looked back at the paint on the doorframe and asked the drummer, “So then why did you sleep in here?” “Oh,” Rick looked around the tub, stating as-a-matter-of-factly, “The porcelain keeps the suit from wrinkling. I guess drunk me was very careful last night.” “I’ll say,” Joe complemented, “The lipstick’s still holding up pretty well.” Phil halted the conversation, “Wait, so you were in here when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the night?” Rick chuckled, “Yeah, and let me tell you, for a smaller guy, you’ve got a big bladder.” “Wait,” you slowly turned and pointed at Joe, “I thought you said you slept in the bathtub-?” He gave you a cocky smirk in return, “I told you, ‘definitely not the bathtub’...” Rick sleepily laughed and pointed at you, “Ha- Y/N, you look like Joe!” “Why, just because of the shirt?” you inquired, pointing at Joe’s tank top on you. “And the paint!” Rick corrected you, “I can’t believe you guys didn’t wash it off yet!” In a second, you felt a rush of worry upon realizing that Rick hadn’t said anything about you and Steve yet. It made you suddenly come to the possible conclusion that he may not know about it all. “Wait,” Phil snapped his fingers, “So you do remember some stuff from last night?” “Yeah, a bit, I think. Why?” “Philip Kenneth Collen, don’t you fucking dare....” you growled at him in an almost pleading manner, rubbing your temples and grinding your teeth. “What do you remember?” Phil asked him, not giving any sort of reaction to your begging. Rick thought for a few seconds, clearly as hungover as the rest of you. It didn’t take him long to list off some brief happenings he recalled. “Well, I remember us singing Sweet, there was a lap dance, I remember- uh, being denied a bottle of scotch, there was, uh... there was lipstick... and did I try to ice-skate on pieces of cardboard down the hall...?” “Is that why there’s cardboard all down the hallway?” you motioned towards the door. Rick gave you a big proud smile and a nod in response. “So...” Joe looked around, definitely looking eager, “What’s the last thing you remember before falling asleep?” Rick rested his head back on the tub again, thinking as hard as his hungover mind would let him. You hoped to every god there was that he didn’t say anything about Steve. “Just Phil comin’ in here and having a long piss, that’s all.” came the verdict. “You sure you didn’t hear-“ Phil anxiously began to ask him, but got a hand slapped over his mouth by you. “No!” you yelled on impulse, sending more daggers through your burned-out head. All eyes were now on you, and silence fell. For a few tense seconds, you stared into Phil’s eyes, sending him visual messages of both threats and desperate requests. “...what the hell happened last night?” Rick broke the silence in a tone of utter confusion, knowing that something more serious than what he remembered had taken place. You pulled your hand back from Phil’s face, “Yuck, Phil, come on!” “You licked her hand, didn’t you?” asked Sav. “Yes,” Phil confirmed, and continued without missing a beat, “And I’m glad you asked that, Rick, cos' I know what happened after Y/N and Sav paid you a visit last night.” “Phil, if you love me in any way, shape, or form, you will not tell Rick what happened,” you begged to him as you began to walk out the bathroom door, heading back downstairs to wallow in more of your shameful hangover, “I refuse to believe it happened until there’s hard proof.” “Well what more proof do you want? A positive pregnancy test?” Phil shrugged, but suddenly slapped his own hand over his mouth, realizing what he’d just said. You shot him an angry look. You were too tired to have it out with him, so you stumbled away. Right about now, you were ready to give up and accept the fact that you probably did shag Steve. Phil turned to Rick, gaping, and slowly began to speak again, "Right... so last night, after those two were in here, I think that’s when they came back downstairs..." *** "So why are you tying up my hair again?" a drunk Steve asked Phil, who was happily putting his hair into pigtails. "Because I knew you’d look pretty, and I knew you wouldn't object, either," the other guitarist laughed evilly as he finished tying the second bundle of golden locks together, "There, you're all done now." "Cool... I think," Steve tilted his head, staring at himself in the mirror on the wall as footsteps began pounding their way down the stairs. "I think you look pretty, Steve. Pretty, pretty, pretty," Joe giggled as he was flipped off by the pig-tailed guitarist. As this happened, you trampled the stairs in your descent, calling out, “Steve- Steve! Come here!” More than happy to be ripped away from Phil’s pigtailed plans, he let you run up to him as you belted out, “I’ve got an idea...!” He didn’t say anything, but he did let you whisper something in his ear. The second he heard your idea, his eyes lit up and an evil smirk crossed his face. Steve was always in the mood for causing terror. You pulled back and exchanged the same look of understanding with the guitarist. He stared at you with a sort of appreciation, and without another word, swept you off your feet, carrying you bridal style now. With a quick smooch to your lips, he began carrying you up the stairs as you giggled with some sort of glee. Phil’s jaw dropped, looking at Joe with astonishment in the process. The singer’s face mirrored the exact same expression. “I should’ve bloody known...” Phil gasped in astonishment, “She’s been eyeing him up real funny all night... I can’t fucking believe it!” Sav came down the stairs slowly, his life depending on the railing as he dragged his hand on it. He left a long streak of blue paint as he did so. “What’s gotten into their pants?” “Each other, apparently,” Joe scoffed, taking a sip of a beer he found, “Lord knows how the hell that happened.” *** You were all sitting back on the couches in the living room, all seemingly regretting the night before (you knew you most certainly were). Everyone knew that the end of Phil’s story was the true ending of the night. Now there was really a dead end to the whole tale. “I can’t believe it,” you whispered with sorrowful acceptance, “Me and Steve...? What happened next?” Joe scoffed, “Well that’s kind of a stupid question.” “That’s where it ends, Y/N. I went up to bed afterwards, only to hear-“ Phil cleared his throat to impersonate you and Steve, “‘Oh, Steve! Yes!’ coming from my room! So after an immense helping of disapproval, I slept in Rick’s room.” “No, no, that can’t be it!” you insisted, “Guys, what really happened next?” “Can’t say,” Joe mumbled, holding his head. “Sorry, mate,” Rick apologized. Sav remained silent, but looked apologetic. “That can’t be where it ends...!” you persisted, “Sav? Tell me I’m right!” Sav rolled in his lips, and darted his eyes away from you. You continued to stare at him suspiciously, but no one else thought anything of it. Phil tried to finalize your fate sympathetically, “Give it up, Y/N, at least it’s all over now.” “But it still happened! What am I gonna say to Steve when he wakes up? You know what- no. It didn’t happen, I refuse to believe that it did.” “How much more proof do you want?” Rick shrugged, pointing at Phil and Sav, trying to make you face the terrible truth, “They both heard ya, and Steve even gave you a hickey.” You hung your head, thinking you might just decide to cry out of shame. Yes, you loved Steve, just as you loved anyone else in the band, but you never had (or planned to have) any sort of sexual relationship with them. Even if you ever did, you were afraid it would ruin everything your friendship had stood for. “Sav, what’s wrong, mate?” Joe asked out of the blue. The bassist in question was still avoiding the conversation, staying eerily silent and weaving his hands together. At this point, you noticed that he was also blushing. “That wasn’t Steve.” he stated bluntly, still not looking at you. “What wasn’t Steve?” you asked as you stared at him dead on, your heart now pounding. “That hickey... that wasn’t Steve,” he paused, “That was me.” Immediately you gasped and slapped a hand over the mark on your neck. “What?!” the other three exclaimed. Joe and Rick immediately hissed at the searing pain their outbursts caused. “Sav, what the hell?!” you scolded him, finally happy that you weren’t the only one being called out for their mistakes. “Now before you say anything else,” he finally looked at you and held up a hand, “It was your idea.” Your face fell, softly asking him, “What do you mean?” “Well, after you and Steve-you know- and only Joe and I were downstairs, you actually came back down, too- wipe that smug look off your face, Joe. You’re not entirely innocent here, either.” *** You stumbled down the stairs, giggling to yourself. Your mission was now accomplished, and Steve was asleep upstairs. In a word, you were pleased. In two words, you were still drunk. Records were still being played when you returned to the living room, and Joe currently had his copy of Sheer Heart Attack on the turntable. “She Makes Me (Stormtrooper In Stilettos)”flowed softly from its speakers. “There’s our killer queen!” Joe cooed to you happily. He was now sprawled out on the couch, two empty beer bottles on the floor beside him. Sav wasn’t too far off. The paints on his hands were now dry, and he was reclined in a chair across the room, twiddling a bottle in his hand. They both looked ready for bed, and it made you wonder how they held out for this long. The singer slurred on with an interested smirk, “You two have fun?" Sav spoke up with a scoff-like laugh, “Sure sounded like it!" “Oh, you know it,” you gave them a wink, setting yourself down on the couch next to Joe, “Guess Phil finally ditched, huh?” “Yeah, the wanker went to bed- but you’ve lost your pants!” he gestured to your black underwear, made room for you to lay down with him, and took you in his arms like a teddy bear with a sigh of appeasement. You reached back and playfully poked at Joe’s dimple, “Steve's fault." “Well, that’s no good,” Sav objected, pushing the footrest of the chair in and returning to a sitting position. “What isn’t?” Joe asked him, "Steve gettin' into it with her?" “No, that cuddlin' you're doing- it’s boring. You stay like that, you’ll fall asleep on me!” He was certainly right about this. With you in Joe’s arms and his face nuzzling into your hair like some sort of animal, he was already falling asleep. “What do you want us to do?” you chuckled, thinking that Sav was only jealous of his friend. Joe mumbled happily into your hair, “How 'bout you just do me like Steve, and we’ll be good.” At this point, you noticed the feeling of something pressing lightly against the bottom of your back; a certain weight where Joe’s hips were, and a weight that wasn’t there at first. “Joe,” you whined at him, “You’re fucking gross.” He chuckled, then slowly moved his hips to lightly rub himself against you, a low quiet moan rising in his throat from the temporary pleasure it provided. “Ah- Joe!” you protested again, reaching back and hitting him as best as you could. You wiggled out of his embrace as he burst into giggles like he had just accomplished something. Sav, on the other hand, cringed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re even hornier than when you’re sober!” you grabbed a pillow and whacked Joe with it. “You’re one to talk! You just shagged Steve!” he smirked evilly, "Why not me?" “Ha! The only way I’ll do you is by some miracle, or at least a dare,” you threw yourself onto the other couch, picking up a nearly empty beer bottle and pouring whatever was left into your mouth. Sav’s eyes finally lit up, “That’s what we oughta do- truth or dare!” “Ooh, sounds like terrible fun,” you turned yourself so you were sitting upside-down on the couch, “Sav, truth or dare?” “How come he gets to go first?” asked Joe, “I wanna get down to business!” “Dare,” Sav declared, ignoring the singer’s objections. Immediately, your intoxicated mind thought of a scheme. Despite the plan you and Steve had executed ever so perfectly, you were still a child seeking more terror. You knew Joe wanted you, and it was no secret either, so how exactly would you use Sav to reign terror over him? You wanted something to rub in Joe’s face- something that would leave a mark on him. ��I dare you to-" you clumsily pointed to your neck, "Gimme a hickey.” Joe's jaw dropped with offense and jealousy; exactly as you had expected. Sav began to laugh rather loudly at the request, and stood up, now understanding your true intention of making Joe jealous. “C’mere,” he motioned with his hand. More than happy to obey the command, you strutted over to him and paused, waiting for him to make the first move. He took a step so your bodies were practically pressing together, moved your hair out of the way on your neck, and dove right in. You smiled with glee, taking in the feeling of Sav’s mouth and tongue moving over your skin (as well as Joe’s groans of protest coming from a few feet away). As the bassist sucked on your neck without hesitation, it only made you think of one thing: “Wow, there’s definitely gonna be a mark after this.” *** Rick and Phil were staring at Sav with their mouths open in shock. You kept a hand over the mark he left on your neck to prevent everyone from looking any more than they already had. “So, wait, if it was you who gave me this, why didn’t you say anything before when we said it was Steve?” you asked Sav, more suspicious than outraged now. “I- ah, didn’t... wanna say anything...” he looked away, beginning to blush again, “I guess I was too embarrassed." “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is you, Joe,” Rick turned his attention back to the singer, “You fuckin dry humped her!” Joe exclaimed in his own defense, “Yeah, and I don’t even remember it! It’s not my fault- I was drunk and horny!” “See! Just like me and Steve! I don’t remember shagging him, either! So I guess we’re even.” “Even Stephen,” Phil scoffed. You slumped into the couch more, staring blankly ahead and realizing, “So I pretty much got to second base with all of you last night...?” “I think you made it all the way home with Steve,” Rick pointed out. “Thanks, Rick,” you kept your head hung, “I feel like a slut.” “You mean you’re not?” Phil joked, only to be hit in the arm by Sav.

Just then, you all heard the sound of movement upstairs. Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold; Steve was awake now. Everyone's jaws hit the floor, and for a second, you thought they were all afraid of what you were fearing. "He's awake..." Rick announced in a sing-song voice, teasing you. “Oh no...” you gasped quietly, “Oh no, oh no! Oh god, what am I gonna do? What am I gonna say to him?!” “Hate to break it to ya, but this isn’t necessarily our problem!” Joe shrugged in a panic, hearing Steve’s footsteps get closer. “But guys! You’ve gotta help me! You’re his best friends! What should I say to him?!” “Just act like it didn’t happen! Maybe he doesn’t remember-?” Sav proposed. Rick suggested, “Just straight up ask him if he remembers anything!” “Just get out of here!” Phil made a swatting motion towards the other room. “None of those are gonna do me any good! It still happened!” you yelled at them in a whisper, “I have to live that with that fact, even if neither of us have any memory of it to live with!” It was too late for any salvation; Steve was already at the top of the stairs. The band members held their breath, and- without words or warning- all scrambled out of the living room. “No!” you whispered, “Guys- wait!” You caught Rick by the wrist when he stood up. “Rick, c’mon, please don’t leave me here!” you begged. He yanked out of your grip and apologetically condemned you, “Sorry, Y/N, but this is your business.” As the four of them retreated, you tried to bolt after them. As soon as you hit the doorway, however, Phil turned around and pushed you back on the couch nearby as slowly as he could. It was so sudden that you were on your back before you knew it, and they were all gone. “Hey!” you called out after them, “Assholes!” Steve’s voice suddenly came to your ears (rather closely, too), “What’s their problem?” You jumped, “Ah- Steve!” He had a silent step, and made it down the stairs and across the room without making a sound. He also looked just as he did a little while ago when you first woke up; scraggly hair, lipstick stains all over his face, but no visible evidence of a hangover. “Hey, wow,” you forced an awkward chuckle at him, “Nice- uh, nice- lipstick...” Steve slumped down onto a chair and grumbled, “Thanks. Who even did this to me? Doesn’t look like it was you.” “That was, that was Rick- I’m assuming... I don’t remember that happening and I don’t think he does, either. He’s still got the lipstick on, too.” He played off the remark with a tired smile, “Oh, nice... last night really was something, wasn’t it?” Heat rushed to your face, and you tried to look away without being conspicuous. “Ha ha... yeah... really something!” you faked your amusement for him, now wondering if he was implying anything about the previous night. Steve leaned forward and asked, “Do you remember Sav and the paint? That was pretty funny, wasn’t it?” Still blushing, you darted your eyes around the room and nodded in agreement, “Mm hmm, yeah... he was like a toddler or something.” He sunk back into the chair again and closed his eyes, reminiscing about the events of the previous night. For a second you thought you were in the clear, and that maybe he didn’t remember the specific event that Phil and Sav did.

That illusion was shattered when his eyes snapped open, whispering “Wait a minute”, and sitting back up. Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach.

“How did our plan go?” he questioned quietly, figuring that the others were still somewhere nearby and listening. “P-plan?” you stuttered, partially afraid of what he meant, but partially caught off guard, “What plan?” “You know-” he whispered again, thinking you remembered, “It was your idea. Did they believe it? We were convincing enough?" You darted your eyes down to the floor, confused, but also embarrassed. 'Convincing'? What did that mean? "Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t remember!” he smiled playfully. As you stared at him with fearful confusion in your eyes and redness on your cheeks, his smile was suddenly wiped away. He muttered under his breath as his face fell, "Oh... you don't remember... bloody hell, okay, this is gonna be hard to explain..." "Then explain it, because I'm really fucking confused..." your voice wavered with a sarcastic chuckle. Steve sighed and leaned forward, slowly weaving his hands together. He didn't know where to begin. "This is one of the few things I remember from last night..." he started off, "And there's no way to make this sound... good... in any way, but you came up with the idea of us pretending to shag- like making noises and shit like that- to trick the others into thinking we really did. For some reason I thought it was a great idea, and I'm pretty sure I carried you upstairs, too.” Instantly, a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. It wasn't real; you didn't shag Steve, and he could even tell the guys himself! You blew out a big sigh of relief, and slumped back into the couch, closing your eyes. "Oh, god," you slowly panted, "What a huge relief- I suppose we were really convincing, then." "Why d'you say that?" You laughed tiredly, now feeling rather thankful for your raging hangover, "The guys are all convinced that we fucked last night. Only Phil and Sav seem to remember it, though. They've been hounding me about it all morning. I kept telling them it couldn't be true- and I was right!" "What, would it be so bad if we actually did?" he teased you in a hushed voice. "Well, I've had to live my day so far under the impression it did happen. I was teased, ridiculed, embarrassed, and felt guilty about it. I was afraid it'd ruin our friendship if it was true... I was kinda hoping you didn't remember so we could just forget..." The red in your face returned all over again. Steve, however, didn't seem bothered. "If you really want to, we can keep pretending it happened and steer into the act; give em' what they want." "What? No!" you laughed out loud, standing up, "You're crazy, Clark! I think I better go tell the others the bad news. They'll be disappointed-ha!" You walked across the room to go find the others and disclose unto them the "bad news", giving Steve a pat on the shoulder when you passed him. Once you were gone and out of sight, Steve also blew out a big sigh of relief. "She didn't remember anything," he thought to himself, "That was a close one." While he knew you two didn't go all the way the previous night, he figured if you didn't remember it, then it was for the best you didn't find out. It was nothing serious; just a bit of fooling around, really. Just a bit of drunked-up teasing, and nothing more. The guys had no proof that anything actually happened between you two, and you were about to tell them the partial truth anyway, so why say something to reignite the suspicion? After all, they were all hungover to begin with, so there wasn't much memory of the whole affair, either. "Thank god for these hangovers,"Steve thought, "Thank god. I couldnt've asked for anything more." ~Epilogue~ When you got to the top of the stairs, Steve put you on your feet and spun you around. "You ready?" he whispered, childish excitement in his voice. You nodded with equal excitement, "Take me away, Clark." The two of you began eagerly walking hand-in-hand to whatever room you pleased, but before either of you had the chance to pick one, the bathroom door opened, Rick popped his head out and commanded, "Stop right there!" Both you and Steve froze and looked at him. He still had his lipstick and his suit on, and a kind of serious look overtaking his face. A finger was kept in a pointing position at you, a few large pieces of cardboard were underneath his other arm, and he slowly took steps down the hall to meet you. Neither of you moved, but both of you waited. When Rick got to you, he didn't say a word, but did take Steve's face in his hands (dropping the cardboard in the process), and proceeded to the kiss the man all over his face.

Steve remained silent, and let Rick have his way until he decided to stop. When he did, there were several lipstick stains on various parts of the blonde's face.

"Thanks, mate," Steve muttered sarcastically as Rick kicked some of the cardboard pieces in different directions. He then stepped on two of them, trying to slide down the hall on them as if they were ice skates. When he got back to the bathroom, he went back inside and shut the door again.

Without another word, you turned Steve's face toward you, gave him a peck on the cheek as Rick had done, and kicked open the door behind you (which just so happened to be Phil's bedroom). You both fell back into the room, giggling with makeshift lust in your eyes.

After all, you had to make this authentic, right?

[reidswritings]

the three times that it was obvious

word count; 1.9k

warnings; nothing i think-- just fluff (and a lame ending and also probably some spelling errors haha)

authors note; this is like part 2.5 of times they were just too cute so read those is you want, but you dont have to cause it’ll make sense on its own,, anyways, as always, i hope you enjoy! [ part one and part two ]

bonus— times Spencer was just a little too in love with his girl

There was no one he loved more. That was a fact. Another fact was that everyone knew that. No one questioned his love for the Pretty Girl— well, no one except aforementioned Pretty Girl. That was usually on her bad days though, but on all of the other days, she knew it better than he did. There was many times that he proved it to himself— though, not that it was a competition or anything. 

It had just been so long since he was able to openly love someone as much as he loved His Girl. Growing up in the closet, he was never able to be open about who he loved— in fear of getting beat up, not that that saved him from any beatings. Then, when he was older, he fell in love with the beauty that was JJ. But she got pregnant and then fell in love with his best friend— Emily Prentiss. Not that he was questioning her taste in women— because Emily was probably the hottest one of the whole BAU Team. There was no competition on that one. 

And once he finally got over her, it was on to the beautiful Doctor Maeve Donavan— but that was over before it even began. Damn stalkers, damn unsubs, damn everything that came with the horrible situation. 

That one crushed him. Took away his spirit along with his belief in love. Took away his belief in anything that wasn’t himself. Well, maybe even took himself with it too. That was the one that left him with more trauma than he cared to admit. 

That was the one that he was afraid that he’d never heal from.

But then there was her. Then, he met the love of his life. Then was the moment he felt his heart begin to stitch itself back together. 

The moment the beauty walked through the huge glass doors was the moment he felt like he could breathe again. He was beyond grateful for the Pretty Girl. And he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to her, even if she was never actually his. 

Luckily though, the universe owed him one and she was head over heals for the scrawny agent. It didn’t take long for them to find each other, actually it only took a week of knowing each other (and Spencer following her around like a lost puppy), until he asked her out to coffee. He had learned from his mistakes before. He had learned not to wait— he had learned that nothing was guaranteed. Not even the next breath. 

He learned to go for what he wanted— even with his fear of rejection, it was better to know. 

Spencer Reid was not the best with words— ironic, considering he knew all of the words, even ones in different languages. The one thing he was good at, though, was showing her (and everyone) just how much he loved his Pretty Girl. He wasn’t aware of it at first— he just did the things. It was second nature to him. It was as easy as breathing for him.

The only reason he was fully aware now was because of his lovely friend, Derek Morgan. It was a normal day at the work place— bad guys doing bad things and innocent people dying because of it. 

His girl was being sent out to get said bad guys while he was forced to stay back and work on the geological profile (not that he was complaining, he loved doing it). The only down side of loving someone on The Team was watching them run into danger rather than from it. 

He never underestimated his girl— he knew she was a badass who could handle her own, but it was still nerve-racking, not knowing if he’d see her again (he was as dramatic as he was genius).  

So, with his heart thumping with anxiety, he had kissed her, like it would be their last time, just before she ran from the police station, and said, “We kiss before and we kiss again after, okay?”

She had agreed to this like it was nothing— because it made sense to her. She wanted that last kiss, just in case. 

Just in case. 

The dark-skinned hunk had witnessed the whole thing. The older man had snorted and muttered under his breath, “Smooth, Reid. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”

Derek never let him live it down. And Spencer let his friend poke fun, because that meant that he got another day with his Pretty Girl— he knew the day that Derek stopped teasing was the day that he no longer got to love Y/N. And that was a day he wasn’t willing to have. 

Another time he noticed it was again because of a BAU Team Member. It was yet another long night at the office— paperwork calling their names and sleep calling them even harder, stress headaches creeping into their skulls and necks aching from leaning over desks for so long. 

The Genius had watched his Pretty Girl yawn for the umpteenth time and he sighed, leaning back in his uncomfortable chair. It was routine, she’d groan in frustration, yawn, flex her shoulders and then get back to burning the midnight oil. He assumed that she was growing frustrated with the seemingly growing pile of folders on her desk— Spencer had made his way through his stack and was now finishing up his last. Not everyone had his special power of memorization and speed reading.

The young agent stood, cracking a few bones as he did so. Grabbing his now empty coffee mug, he stalked over to his girl’s desk. Upon reaching, he leaned against the large table, cup balancing on his folded leg. Y/N looked up at him, eyes tired and longing to be taken home. Though, she smiled at him and it warmed the boy’s heart. 

“Hey,” it was soft, only meant for her. He was smiling too, he was smiling the smile reserved only for Y/N. Emily, who still sat at her desk, looked over and welcomed the break from the gruesome paperwork on top her cluttered desk. 

“Hi,” it was no louder than Spencer’s words, but loud enough for Emily to hear. 

“You doin’ alright?” Spencer’s head was ducked down towards his girl. One of his large hands was still wrapped around his mug while the other one had found its way to the shoulder of one very tired Y/N. Her head was leaning on his hand, leaving a small kiss. She smiled at him like he was the only person in the world that mattered— and in her small world, he was. “You want me to take some off your plate?”

She sighed, leaning back in her chair now. Emily watched still, smiling. She was happy that the two had finally found happiness away from the horrible world they all had created for themselves. “No, it’s okay. Thank you though, Spence.”

He smiled. She continued, hands holding another empty mug. “You know what you could do, though?”

“Hmm?” The boy raised his eyebrows, mouth shrinking into the smirk that make Y/N weak in the knees. 

“Get me more?” She smiled, lips parting to show her teeth. Spencer blushed, ducking his head again. His hand moved to take the mug from her, standing. They had been dating for awhile now, but she still managed to make him breathless. Their fingers brushed and he felt his stomach erupt in excitement— he hoped that feeling never went away. He would give up forever with her just to keep feeling the way he did in that moment. 

“Anything for you, my love.” He bent down to her level, a kiss leaving itself behind on her forehead. Their eyes closed, savoring the moment— that is until the loud voice of Emily Prentiss rang out. 

“I could use some more, too!” The lovebirds looked over at their mutual friend. She was cheekily smiling, arm hanging in the air, fingers closed around her own empty mug. The Genius Boy straightened up, frown present on his once smiling lips. 

“What?” She laughed, red lips still stretched into her characteristic smile that she more often than not wore, “You’re going that way anyways!”

Spencer’s mouth opened to protest—probably— but Emily spoke again. “You’ll get Y/N some, but not me? After all I’ve done for you? My heart hurts.”

The boy snorted, “Yeah? Well, I’m in love with her, not you, Em.” 

The last time that proved that Spencer loved his girl more than anything was something that everyone in the office knew of. The lovebirds liked to pretend that it was their little secret, but in reality they both knew it was one shared with most everyone. 

It wasn’t a secret that Spencer and Y/N were hopelessly in love with each other— in fact it was very clear to anyone who walked through the BAU doors. Though in love, they were not the biggest fans of PDA. However, Spencer and his Pretty Girl were still very, very, lovey with one another at the workplace. 

Of course, that doesn’t mean they were making out against Spencer’s desk or having secret sex in the BAU bathroom— no, it means that they often shared glances from across the bullpen and small touches when the other is getting just a bit too frustrated and knowing smiles every other hour. 

It was the little things they did that kept them on their toes— kept them head over heals. It was special to them that they kept up the romance, no matter what was going on in their very hectic lives. 

For example, the two very often left small little notes for each other around the BAU. Nothing inappropriate or out of line, it was usually just something that would be sure to make the other smile. And it wasn’t anywhere that was obvious either, it was almost always in a spot that would only be discovered by Y/N or Spencer. 

And sometimes, just sometimes, another member of The Team would stumble across the colorful sticky notes stuck to the back of a chair or to the side of one of Spencer’s many, many, books or to the tip of a pen or even on a coffee mug in the cabinet— unfound by The Lovebirds yet. The Aforementioned Team Member would just smile like they were in on some little secret—because they were—and place the note back so it could be found by a Lovesick Agent later. 

They were sentimental people, keeping each and every note— which The Team so desperately wanted to poke fun at, but they let them have this. They let them stay in their little bubble just for a little while longer— as long as it made The lovebirds happy, it made The Team happy too. 

In fact, once JJ and Emily had stumbled across the small box that held each and every sticky note. They didn’t pry— well, they tried not to, but curiosity got the best of the two girls. They ended up reading each one, and they were so goddamn adorable, they just about cried. 

If there was one thing The Team could agree on, it would be that Spencer and Y/N were perfect for each other and that they all would rather die than let anything happen to the two. 

[engagemachine]

For the emoji head cannons. Any or all - you know I’m asking about J and Tay 🥰

💜🧺👀🚪

Alright, kids. BUCKLE UP. There's some seriously good stuff in here, including some headcanons written by a good friend and reader, and you don't want to miss it!

💜— How do they say goodnight?

J doesn't—at least not unless Taylor comes and says it first. Usually, he's not even home at night, and she's resigned herself on those nights to having to go to bed without him. She used to try and wait up for him, but she always ended up falling into a fitful sleep, usually on the couch or sometimes slumped over on the barstool at the kitchen counter, her head pillowed on her forearms, a little spot of drool on the counter. She'd wake sometime later, usually with an awful crick in her neck, or with the knowledge that school's in a couple of hours and Mr. J still hasn't come back yet....

It's hard to sleep when he isn't there, and her nightmares are always worse on those nights. Sometimes she gets herself really worked up, convinces herself he's not coming back, that he's abandoned her, that he's bored, he's moved on. It's embarrassing, how quickly she's capable of working her entire body into a full-blown panic attack. She hugs his pillow to her tummy and curls around it in the fetal position, closing her eyes, smelling him, the scent he left behind. Gasoline. Smoke. Sweat. Smells that should affront her, but she finds comforting instead. It's all she's ever known.

A couple of times she's woken after falling asleep at the counter, her homework all spread out around her in a half-moon circle, with a pair of strong arms picking her up. She's usually so sleepy by then that she just does what's natural—wraps her legs around his waist and winds her arms around his neck. He puts her in her bed, as he always does—and without fail, usually twenty minutes later, or maybe an hour—she's creeping into his bedroom and slipping under the covers, scooting across the expanse of the bed until she's curled up against his back. Finally she can whisper "good night", barely audible in the darkness. She traces a tiny heart on his spine with her finger, and then she drifts to sleep.

🧺— Random domestic headcanon

Taylor manages to finagle Netflix from Mr. J--and boy, she had to work for it--but now that she has it, she's obsessed. She can finally watch all these shows that everyone on Instagram and Youtube are always talking about. There's a little community of people on this Youtube channel she likes to watch, this girl who does her make-up and reviews TV shows at the same time. It's so fun, and it always puts her in a good mood. Sometimes she leaves comments on the videos, and one time a couple people commented back! It was so exciting, and she likes chatting with these strangers, especially because she has no one else to talk to, and sometimes she thinks Mr. J gets bored listening to her prattling about stuff he doesn't care about.

Anyway, she's started watching this one show. She asks Mr. J if he wants to watch it with her, but he always says no... and then proceeds to stand next to the couch for half an hour squinting at the TV, as if the events unfolding before him deeply confuse him.

"Mr. J, just sit down!" she says, laughing. But he always says he has to finish working... and then stands there for another thirty minutes until the episode is over.

It's kind of their thing, now, and she thinks he's starting to get really into the show, which is exciting. Maybe she can finally talk about it with him?

But then... but then. She had to know that this episode would come, they've only been hinting at the sexual tension with all the grace of a sledgehammer for the past five episodes, and now, episode six, they're finally doing it, and Taylor. Is. Mortified.

Mr. J is, of course, perched right next to the couch throughout the entire event, standing, hovering way too close, now that she thinks about it, and she reaches for a nearby pillow and holds it up to her face in a poor attempt to shield her blush from him. The characters are moaning so loud, oh my god, she might as well be watching porn--and Mr. J's standing right there! She peeks up to glance at him, once, twice, and the third time she does it, she catches him staring at her, smirking, and she flushes so hard that she gives herself a headache from the intensity of her bloodrush.

Oh, my god. This is the worst.

"Something the matter, sweet pea?"

Oh, he knows. She knows that he does.

But she plays innocent. She's not gonna tell him how embarrassing this is. No way.

"Nope," she squeaks. "I'm fine."

She leaves halfway through the scene, abandoning the couch with some mumbled excuse about having to go to the bathroom--and she hides out there and peeks between the crack in the door until the scene's done.

When she returns, Mr. J looks at her and frowns, picking up the remote.

"Shame you missed the good part," he says, completely straight-faced. She looks at him, blinking.

"Oh," she says, "Well, I--"

"Don't worry," he says, smirking in a way she knows can't be good. "I'll rewind it for you."

👀— What’s their favorite body part on themselves? On their partner?

Okay, so my good friend @darkobsessions1989 was kind enough to provide an answer for this prompt before I had even been prompted with it, and she wrote a gorgeous scenario for both J and Taylor, so with her permission, I'll share both of those here:

She's been sketching his hands a lot lately. Trying to convey their rugged elegance, the sinewy length of his fingers and sharp knobs of his knuckles. She wants to capture their strength and duality. The way those hands have the capacity to be as soft and gentle as they can be harsh and rough. How sometimes, they can even be both at once.

She isn't really sure that's something she's even capable of conveying through lead and paper, but she's been trying anyways. Her sketchbook is a filled with countless renderings of his hands. Various versions of his fingers, knuckles, and palms. Close ups that detail all the little lines and scars across his skin, and more distant takes that sometimes travel a little ways up his forearms. Most are in pencil, but a few have been executed in pen or fine tipped markers--whatever she had closest on hand at the time, really.

She often thinks about the time he'd caught her watching him while she scribbled away on that sort of project. How he'd asked to see what she was drawing, and chased her through the house to pin her to the bed when she was too embarrassed to show him.

She remembers the thrill that rolled through her when he made that suggestive, "If I'd only known..." comment, and how that thrill had doubled as he advanced on her. She remembers just exactly how his weight had felt atop her, how her heart had hammered away in her chest, her tummy jumping with anticipation as he slid her arms up over her head and pinned them against the mattress under a big hand.

She'd been half convinced he was going to escalate things as he'd slid his free hand down the front of her body, and she'd been all too eager to tip her hips up to accommodate. Much to her dismay, he'd backed off. But she thinks--now that she's had more experience with him in this regard--that he might not have if she'd told him what he'd wanted to hear.

She knows now that there are certain things he really likes hearing. The mere thought of most of those things makes her flush crimson. But sometimes... sometimes it makes her do more than just flush.

Which is why she hasn't really been bothering with trying to hide any of what she sketches. She does it right in front of him, even though it kind of makes her antsy when he pays too much attention or stares right back. She tells herself that if he ever sees her drawing his hands again and calls her on it, she's gonna tell him.

She's gonna tell him that she likes his hands, likes everything about them. Their size, their texture. The length of his fingers and the wide width of his palms. The way they look. Their impossible heat, and how they feel pressed against her skin. On her tongue. Inside her.

It occurs to her that maybe that's a part of why she's been drawing them so much. Maybe she's just been looking for another excuse. An opportunity to show him that she does know how to use her words.

Maybe she won't manage to say it all without clamming up, but she thinks she'd like to try. She thinks he'd like that.

--

His favorite body part of hers? Honestly, there really isn't any part of her that doesn't peak his interest in one way or another. He's got damn near every inch of her mapped out in his head, her visage cast and carved out across the meaty ridges of his brain like some grisly work of art. He knows her. Inside and out, both corporeally and otherwise.

That said, if he had to choose just one part of her, he supposes he does have a rather particular fondness for the nape of that long, skinny neck. The faintly raised notch of bone that protrudes there between where the back of her neck and shoulders meet. The way that stretch of tissue, skin and bone seems tailored just for him. For his cupping of the fragile curve of her spine in his palm of his hand, just below the base of her skull.

Sometimes he likes to spread his fingers there, slide them up into her hair against her scalp, or squeeze just a little too tightly at the sides of her neck. He likes the way her breath catches, how she often tries to ease the pressure of his grip by getting closer. He likes the little baby hairs that dust along her hairline there too. How they they get a little frizzy and stuck to the dampness of her skin whenever she works up a sweat.

Truthfully, for how often and closely he's studied her, he could compose an entire anthology dedicated solely to the intricacies of her body--not that he ever would.

🚪— What would kill their trust in their partner/close them off? Could this ever be amended?

Ugh, this is a great question. Taylor's seen (and found out about) a loooot of stuff that the Joker has done that she doesn't approve of/doesn't like. She knows he blew up Gotham University, and she knows about the camera he planted in her room, and the fact that he's been drugging her (which she has been blissfully willing to ignore after their little couch encounter at the end of chapter seven) and obviously a bunch of other horrible stuff he's done. So that being said, if J were to do something to close Taylor off/kill her trust in him, it'd have to be something pretty big. She's tolerated a lot so far in the story, but she isn't unbreakable. It's hard to answer this question without spoiling anything, but suffice to say, you'll have this question answered at some point in Burn.

As for J, I think even if Taylor were to go to the police/were to do something behind his back, these behaviors would certainly be grounds for him losing trust in her--but I also think he'd be of the mind that these little "infractions" could be amended. He'd just have to work extra hard to get her back on his side again--but he wouldn't give up on her. No way.

[thedeathdeelers]

Word prompt for fic: headphones

ok first of all i am so sorry for how long it’s taken me to get back to you with this but. yes

here’s a little juke fluff based on the word headphones (i apologise in advance for how basic this is)

without any further ado

—

study break (AO3)

“Hey Jules, what’s up?”

Julie was sat on the couch in the living room, trying to get through the massive pile of homework her teachers had decided to throw at them throughout the last week. She had spent the whole morning trying hard to focus on the task at hand, and ignore the very strong pull that led straight to the studio.

“Hey, Luke.” She looks up at her band mate as she pulls out one of her old wire earphones from her ear. She foregoes pausing the music, hoping that by doing so, it might help keep this interruption brief. She can’t get distracted, and unfortunately, she is very aware of the fact that just by having Luke in the same room as her, she was already fighting a losing battle.

“I’m just trying to get through this,” she gestures vaguely to the scattered mess of books and notes and pens and highlighters littering the overpopulated coffee table. “Teachers are throwing work at us faster than we can keep up.” Julie hunches forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she rubs her face with the palms of her hands, hoping to wipe away the headache she can feel coming on.

She feels the sofa dip to her right, suddenly very aware of the teenage boy (ghost) sitting next to her.

“You don’t look too good Jules. Maybe you should take a small break? Doesn’t matter how much work you try to get through in this state - if you burn yourself out too quickly, you won’t be able to finish.”

With her head still resting in the palms of her hands, Julie turns her head, her eyes peeking through the strands of curls falling between them. He’s looking at her in earnest, and she’s finding it exceedingly hard to say no (even though she knows she really, really should).

As she continues debating with herself internally, Luke reaches over with his hand, something purple and glittering in it, pushes her curls out of her face, and pins them back.

“Where did you get that?”

Luke looks at her sheepishly even as his hand lingers on hers cradling her face for a second before he pulls away.

“I- uh, I found one lying around the studio the other day. I guess I kept it in my pocket in case of emergencies.” He shrugs, trying to brush it off with a quiet, albeit awkward, chuckle.

“Emergencies?” Julie was finding it hard to control the smile quickly taking over her face at Luke’s reddening cheeks.

“Ya, you know,” He clears his throat, scratching at his hair as he tries to look nonchalant. “In case you hair got in the way and I suddenly couldn’t see your face anymore.” Wink.

Even as she felt her own cheeks start to redden in turn, Julie stood her ground.

“Really?” She deadpanned.

“Cross my heart and hope to die!”

She smacks his shoulder, trying hard not to giggle. “Not funny!”

He nudges her with his shoulder, an easy grin on his face.

“Come on, you know it was.”

She shakes her head at him, as her attention is brought back to the music still playing in her ear. She pulls her phone to her with the earphones wire, and starts scrolling through her playlist, trying to find a song that might motivate her to focus back on the work at hand.

“What’re you listening to?” Luke leans over her shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the song names passing by on her large screen.

“Uh, I’m just trying to find something to listen to on my study playlist. These songs usually help me focus...although I’m definitely finding it hard to do that right now.” She shoots him a pointed stare, as he curls a strand of her hair around his digit.

“Whatever do you mean?” He asks, a picture of perfect innocence.

She just stares back at him, unimpressed.

“Come on Jules! I told you, you need to take a break. You’ve been cooped up in here for like 4 and a half hours now.”

“You’ve been keeping track?”

“Of course. What else do you think I do when you’re not around?”

“Uh, not count the hours spent apart? Write music? Do ghost things?” She shakes her head at him, not really sure whether to laugh or cry. “You know, normal stuff?”

“Where’s the fun in that.” He moves in a little closer, eyes fixed on her playlist. “There’s not much ghost stuff to do that’s super exciting, plus I write better when we’re working together. You know that.”

She’s not sure what to say to that, so she turns her head and continues scrolling.

“I’ll make you a deal. You take a half hour break - we can literally just sit here and listen to some music - of your choosing of course - and then I swear I’ll leave you alone.”

Julie moves her head slightly to her right, trying to get a better look at her band mate.

“Half an hour? And then I can go back to work? No interruptions, no distractions?”

Luke’s chin dips slightly as he nods, his eyes trained on hers. He then grins at her, tacking on a last minute term. “For another 4 hours.”

Julie rolls her eyes at him, a small smile playing on her lips. Alright then, she can do that. And it’s not like she hasn’t been counting down the hours until she could finally spend some time with her boys (read: Luke). So she nods, her eyes already moving back to her phone screen.

“Alright, fine. But only half hour.” She reached over and grabs the left earphone, passing it on to Luke.

“I hear better with my right ear.”

She looks at him for a second, confused. He stares at her, then looks pointedly at the L earbud in her hand.

“....Luke, you’re a ghost.”

“So?”

“You don’t- never mind. Fine then..Move, we’ll need to switch sides.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary. This is perfectly fine.”

“You’re on my right, yet you want the right earpiece. I hate using the wrong earphone for the wrong ear, so no. Switch.”

“We don’t have to use the wrong ones, just pass me the right one.”

“These are wired earphones..They’re not long enough for this.”

“Sure they are.” He reaches over as he snatches the Right earphone from her fingers, pops it in his ear and waits for her to do the same. Julie purses her lips at the ridiculousness of this situation, but grabs the dangling Left earbud and puts it in.

They’re now much closer to each other, his head nearly resting on her shoulder, his cheek brushing against hers. And Julie is starting to think that this was Luke’s plan all along.

“Hm, actually you’re right. This isn’t working.”

She’s about to retort, the words ‘I told you so’ on the tip of her tongue, when she suddenly feels hands grabbing her waist and hoisting her up. She squeals, arms flailing a little until she’s settled back down. Onto Luke’s lap.

His arms snake their way around her, coming to rest on her stomach.

“Okay- this works.”

He rests his head on her shoulder, pressing his cheek against hers more firmly. She can even feel the tips of his hair tickling her temple.

“Was this your plan all along?”

“Ah, but a magician never reveals his secrets.”

“Wh- Luke what are you talking about? There was absolutely no magic trick involved in any of this.”

“But it’s always magic when I’m with you.”

“...No.”

“Come on, that was cute.”

“No.”

But neither one could miss the large smile taking over Julie’s face as she leaned back against Luke’s chest, eyes glued on her phone screen, ready to enjoy her well deserved half hour break.

FIN

[winterscaptain]

joint chiefs.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: aunt tali is back for the third night in a row (whoops). this can be a stand-alone, but the original intention was to follow up in the dark, a few years later. it’s totally not necessary to read that one beforehand, but it might be fun! as always, tell me if i’ve screwed up somewhere and i’ll fix it right away :) words: 3853 warnings: swearing, some good kissing, snark, a couple of references that you get bonus points for recognizing some vocab, just in case: CARD: child abduction rapid deployment team, SAIC: special agent in charge, taking six/on your six: covering your partner’s back

ao3 | masterlist | requests closed

+++

You rolled over when your phone rang, answering it right away. “Hotchner.” You checked your watch on its charger. Just after 6am.

Can’t kidnappers wait until the sun’s up?

“We need you in the field today. CARD presence has been requested in Chicago for an all-hands, time-sensitive joint case. Details are incoming, but may be slow to reach you - I have very few myself. When can you be in the office?” The voice of your section chief came at you rapid-fire, and you sat up, rubbing your eyes.

“Yes ma’am. I can be there as soon as my sister-in-law gets here for Jack. I’ll call her now and give you an ETA when I have one. I can’t imagine it will be more than an hour.”

“Thank you. I know it’s a lot to ask with Aaron out on a case as well.”

“It’s alright, ma’am. I’ll be in touch.” You hung up and dressed quickly, calling Jess.

“Got a case?” She sounded terribly chipper for this hour.

“Yeah, I do. I’m so sorry to wake you,” you added lamely.

She chuckled. “You didn’t, and I should thank you. You just saved me from my 7am yoga class.”

“Well, put it on my tab. How quick can you get here?”

“I’ll be there in 20.”

You thanked her again and padded down the hallway to Jack’s room. Kneeling beside him, you brushed some hair off his forehead. It was enough to wake him. He blinked sleepily up at you and reached for you. You wrapped him in your arms, stroking the back of his head. 

“Hey bud. I’ve got a case I gotta go on, but Aunt Jess will be with you until Dad or I get home, okay?”

He nodded, closing his eyes again.

You kissed his forehead. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he mumbled.

You shot a text to your section chief. Be there in 35 mins.

You made yourself a quick breakfast and a pot of coffee. You pulled a travel mug for yourself and a mug from the cabinet for Jess (It said Someone from San Antonio Loves Me!, but that was neither here nor there). 

Your go bag was already in the car – BAU habits die hard.

Jess arrived in record time, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek and taking her cup of coffee out of your hand. You’d grown close in the last few years, and considered her as much of a sister as Aaron did at this point. 

You slipped out the door as quietly as possible, jumping into the car and driving straight to the Quantico airstrip.

The plane was waiting for you, and you greeted the CARD B-Team as you sat down.

+++

The flight to Chicago wasn’t too long, but you managed to get some sleep on the way.

When you were on your final descent, you checked your email, finding no further information from your section chief, other than a case file for a series of missing children and address for the precinct. You didn’t have any information about the other factions of the joint case. Hopefully it wasn’t those jokers at the State Department. They meant well, but they never played nicely with the bureau.

You almost laughed out loud when you arrived at the local precinct, finding the backsides of both Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan in front of an evidence board.

“Hey, Chief?” One of your SSA’s – Agent Esme Salinger, stepped up beside you. “Aren’t those guys from your old unit?”

“They sure are.”

She snorted. “This’ll be fun.”

The back door opened, and Aaron, Emily, and Dave barreled in, heading straight for the conference room.

“You may be right about that,” you said distractedly. 

Aaron was barking about something in his Unit Chief Voice™, but you couldn’t make out the details as he kept moving. They pinned new evidence on the board right away, not taking any time to clock your presence.

That didn’t last long. Your newest agent, Knowles, jogged up to you with his go bag slung over his shoulder. “Hey, Hotch,” he said, way too loudly, “where should we park the cars?”

You whirled to face him, directing him to park by the other federal vehicles around the side of the building. You stifled your smile as you felt eyes turn to your back.

When you turned, you found the entire BAU grinning at you. You crossed to the conference room, wordlessly asking your team to hold where they were as you left them behind.

“SSA Hotchner. Good to see you again.” you said, approaching Aaron, your hand extended and tone extremely formal. 

He bit back a smile and he shook your hand with an unreasonable firmness. He matched you note for note. “SSA Hotchner. Glad to have you with us.”

You winked at him.

With a wave of your hand, your team trailed across the room and fell into a line at your back like a pack of well-trained ducklings. With a certain degree of pride, you introduced them to the BAU one by one.

“...And this is SSA Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief.” You looked at your husband with a small, fond smile before sobering and redirecting your attention to your team. “For the sake of clarity, we’ll switch back to my SAIC callsign – Ace – while we’re working with the BAU. Understood?”

They nodded, and got to work, pairing off with your former teammates to determine their plan of action.

Aaron stood beside you at the board. Staring straight ahead, his arms crossed, he asked, “Ace?”

“Yeah – I used all your poker tricks and cleaned them out my first week back at CARD as SAIC.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Excellent.”

+++

Aaron let himself into your hotel room just as you finished hanging the rest of your clothes in the minuscule closet. He came up behind you, dropping his hands to the waistband of your pajama pants and kissing your neck with a kind of desperate gentleness.

You smiled and tilted your head, bringing a hand up and carding your fingers through the hair at his temples. “Miss me?”

“You have no idea,” he said against your skin.

You turned in his arms and kissed him, pouring all your love and pride into it. He opened his mouth to you, and the way his tongue ran against yours stole your breath. He emitted a low groan when you scraped your teeth along his lower lip and he backed you up toward the bed.

“Planning on gettin’ some tonight, Agent Hotchner?”

He huffed a laugh, his mouth falling to the underside of your jaw and around to the sensitive skin over your carotid artery. You fell back on the bed, and he followed. 

There was a knock at the door. You both froze, his body hovering over yours. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, nearly throwing him off you.

He pressed his back to the wall by the bed, out of sight from the door. There was a shit-eating grin on his face. You rolled your eyes and straightened your shirt, hoping things weren’t too out of place.

Agent Salinger was on the other side of the door. “Hey, Ace. Do you have a minute?”

You leaned against the doorframe, trying to imitate something that looked casual. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Did you happen to bring any Advil with you? I’ve got a splitting headache and I’m out.”

“Sure, give me just a second.”

You left the door cracked and dug your med kit out of your go bag. Aaron tugged on the back of your shirt as you passed, and you swatted at him out of habit. Retrieving a small handful of tablets, you poured them into a little ziploc, sealed it, and returned to the door.

“Here, Salinger. This should hold you over if it continues through the end of the case. If you’re still hurting after we land back at Quantico, go ahead and visit the infirmary to see if they can do anything for you. That concussion’s still healing.” You smiled at her. “We need you sharp, alright?”

She took them gratefully, and gave you a mock salute. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” you joked. “Anything else you needed?”

She shook her head. “Have a good night, Ace.” She paused, hiding a smile and raising her voice a little, rising up on her toes. “You too, Hotch!”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Goodnight, Salinger. Sleep well.”

“Feel better!” Aaron’s voice came from around the corner, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Sleep well, you two.” Then, with a suggestive, curling smile, “Need a wake-up call in the morning?”

You shut the door in her face with a laugh and another farewell. As it closed, you leaned against it heavily. “Oh, I am never going to hear the end of that.”

Aaron turned the corner, loosening his tie. “Now, we’re even.”

You looped your arms around his neck as you remembered that day, years ago.

“You know, for a pair of profilers you guys really suck at sneaking around.” JJ’s voice echoed in your head. 

“I guess so,” you laughed. “This marriage is about give and take, after all.”

He kissed you languidly and you could feel the tension as he did his best to hide his smile. 

+++

“Hey, Hotch, how come you don’t have a cool nickname?” Derek said, grinning behind his sunglasses as they all piled into the car.

“I’d have one if you gave me one,” he quipped. You drove the car in front of him, the window rolled down and your elbow visible where it rested in the frail Chicago sunshine. 

He was excited to see you back in action. With your position as deputy unit chief, your role in the field was limited to emergency situations only. And with the CARD A-Team up in Pennsylvania for the week, you were stuck wrangling the younger agents on your own. 

That said, it was exciting for you to take point, and even more so to work alongside Aaron again.

The difference this time? You were peers. You had the same title, the same posture, the same authority. 

And perhaps most importantly, very little scrutiny regarding possibly-shared hotel rooms.

+++

He knocked on your door in the little pattern he picked up from you, and you opened it with a faux-serious expression. 

“Agent Hotchner, we can't keep meeting like this.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. 

He has a motive. 

You opened the door further and draped yourself against him where he stood in the hallway, continuing dramatically, “What will the people think?”

With surprising, but still gentle, force, he pushed you back into the room and pressed you against the wall. There was a click behind him as the door swung shut. 

You gasped, and your hands were suddenly over your head, locked between his fingers. 

“I think,” he said, wet, breathy kisses trailing down your neck and behind your ear, “the people will be appalled,” his lips closed around your skin as he painted marks over your collarbones, “by the unprofessional,” he released your hands, dropped to his knees and raised your shirt, “shocking,” he laved kisses across your stomach, “and unbecoming conduct of two senior agents.” His final words were delivered against your left hip.

You wound your hands in his hair and inhaled shakily. He pressed kisses and swept sweet bruises into your skin until you couldn’t feel anything but him.

When his mouth ghosted over you through your pajama pants, you knew exactly where the night was going. 

Your knees gave out, and you dropped into his lap, straddling him. You traced a hand down the side of his face, over his jaw. He leaned into it, and you roughened, taking his chin between your fingers With a firm, controlled jerk, you brought his lips to yours. His hips twitched, and you bit his lower lip in retaliation. 

He let out a low moan in his chest and his hands rucked up your shirt. They splayed across your back and shoulders, calloused and familiar. 

Allegedly, you made it to the bed at some point. If your exhaustion the next morning wasn’t enough evidence, the duvet on the floor and the pillows on the wrong side of the bed would happily testify to the lack of sleeping you did once you got there. 

+++

The next day at the evidence board found you and Aaron with identical, massive cups of coffee. 

Agents Salinger and Knowles sat at the table the next room over, reviewing interviews with JJ. 

“Do you think they ever, you know,” Knowles made a vaguely obscene gesture with his hand, and Salinger covered her mouth to hide her laugh. 

JJ didn’t look up from her notes, but replied, deadpan, “You have no idea.”

The younger agents snickered and watched you two work. 

It was easy. Even considering the stressful, time-sensitive nature of the unsub’s escalation over the previous four hours, you both moved around each other with a grace that only came with time. 

+++

A critical error. 

That’s the only thing you thought when you busted into the unsub’s house, minutes after your agents. The unsub was nowhere in sight, and Salinger was on the floor with her partner, putting pressure on a mild wound on his forehead and temple. 

Your jaw tightened and you shot them a look. 

I’ll deal with you later. 

Later came faster than even you could have imagined. You rounded the corner of the precinct to find Aaron laying into your agents for their screw-up back at the house. 

You stepped up to them with purpose and put a firm hand on Aaron’s arm. 

“Hotch, can I speak with you for a moment?” you looked at your agents and then back at him. “Privately.” 

It took everything in you to resist slamming the interrogation room door behind you. 

“What on this God-given green Earth made you think it was appropriate to discipline my agents?” 

He took a deep breath before replying and dropped into what you, usually fondly, referred to as Lawyer Mode. It was far less endearing in that moment, and only served to further piss you off. “Their mistakes cost us an arrest today. With this level of escalation, we could have two more missing kids by sundown. They needed to be made aware of their critical failure.”

You pressed your hands to the cool table, realizing you two were facing off over the surface like two cowboys in an old Western.

This town ain’t big enough for the both of us…

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“No, I think it’s time sensitive and needed to be addressed immediately.” He crossed his arms. 

Damn it. 

You changed tactics, opening your shoulders as you braced yourself on the table. “I’m acutely aware of the time-sensitive nature of this case, which is why I was waiting to reprimand them until they had the time to actually process it. They’re young. They get caught up in it, and Salinger is particularly prone to amplifying rejection, so she’ll be unwilling to take risks until we fly home for fear of inspiring your ire and my disappointment. They fucked up, I know. But I know my team, I know how they need to be handled so we can continue working on this case. You don’t.”

The frustration had drained out of him during your tirade and was replaced with contrition. You were right, and he knew it. You softened your tone, but only a little.

“Aaron, I need you to trust me to handle my team effectively. I don’t need you to step in on my behalf.” Your frustration crawled up into your throat, and you begged your tears not to betray you. Swallowing, you collected yourself and stared him right in the eye. “You undermined my authority today. Please don’t do it again.”

His mouth pressed into a thin, remorseful line. He looked down at the table and took a deep breath. Meeting your eyes again, he said, “I respect and value your leadership and your position. You are, and always will be, the best person to lead your team. I got caught up in my frustration and failed to consider the optics and the specific needs of your agents. I’m sorry.” He rounded the table, crossing to you. “It won’t happen again.” 

There was silence for a moment. Then, Aaron crossed the chasm between colleagues and spouses and reached for your hands, running his thumb over your wedding ring. It was a silent reminder, for both of you. 

Fight nice.

“Thank you.” Sighing, you brought one of your hands to the lapel of his suit jacket, fiddling with it just for something to do as you spoke. “You need to apologize to my agents for overstepping and emphasize that you defer to me on all aspects regarding CARD involvement in the case.” 

“I can do that.” His lips quirked up into the smile you loved, the smile that only you saw. “Forgive me?” 

You heaved a sigh. “I guess so.” He met your eyes and you broke, a little smile threatening at the corners of your mouth. “Let’s get out there and save some kids today, yeah?”

He released your hand and crossed the room, opening the door for you - a wordless agreement, as well as a reiteration of support you so deeply cherished. 

+++

It only took you another hour to locate the unsub - even though he used forensic countermeasures, he wasn’t all that bright. One swipe of his credit card, and Garcia had him in her clutches. 

You raced to his location. Aaron drove the lead car with Derek behind him, and you brought up the rear with the rest of the team. It was more than a little thrilling to drive impossibly fast, sirens wailing, headed to end this man’s reign of terror on Chicago families. 

Throwing the car into park strategically perpendicular to Derek’s SUV, you jumped out of the car and drew your weapon. You took Aaron’s six through the front of the house, a calm settling over you as the pair of you fell right into line. 

Aaron found the unsub in the back bedroom, with a knife held to the most recently kidnapped child. You squared up just off Aaron’s left shoulder for a clear line of sight, avoiding his right side. If you had to fire a shot, the last thing you wanted to do was aggravate his bad ear. 

Out of the corner of your eye, Derek lined up a clean shot through the window. He knew to wait for Hotch, who had started to talk the unsub down, before taking any action. 

Your heart swelled with both pride and affection as Aaron successfully and handily de-escalated the situation and made the arrest himself. He passed the unsub off to the local officers, and you both continued searching the house for the missing children. 

JJ found them first, unharmed and terrified, in a hidden shed out back. She deferred to you, and you called your team over to perform a quick trauma eval on each of the children. 

Knowles and Salinger, still twitchy from their earlier run-in with Aaron, settled down once they were able to perform their designated duties with their colleagues. 

When they were finished, Aaron pulled them aside and spoke quietly with them for a moment. Salinger’s mouth twisted into a little smile, and Knowles took a deep breath. Every once in a while, one of them looked over at you as Aaron spoke. 

After a final set of smiles and nods, they exchanged handshakes. Aaron looked significantly lighter as he approached you as you leaned on the SUV. With your sunglasses on, you looked decidedly and federally important. 

Aaron settled in beside you, slipping his sunglasses over his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. You bumped his shoulder, and kept your voice low. “It was nice to work together, again.”

A ghost of a smile crossed his face, but it was one only you (and maybe Dave) would notice. You could carry on entire conversations without physically acknowledging each other just as well as you could communicate without words at all. Aaron stayed focused on something in the middle distance as he replied. “It was.”

“It’s nice to know you’re still good at your job without me.” You bit back a smile as your eyes tracked your team, wrapping everything up. 

You could almost hear his eye roll. “Glad to hear my performance is consistent and up to your standards.” 

“Your performance is always consistent and up to my standards.” 

The double meaning was not lost on him, according to the dimple that pressed into his left cheek. 

After a moment of silence, the humor dropped from your tone. “Sorry I got mad at you.” 

He huffed a laugh through his nose, his face unchanged. “I deserved it.” 

“You did,” you agreed, “but I forgot how much I dislike getting upset with you in the field.” 

“As opposed to getting upset with me at home?” 

“Exactly.” 

+++

Knowles and Salinger placed a bet on something while you were all in the car, but you weren’t sure what it was. You shook your head at their antics, feeling very much like a parent all of a sudden. 

When you all landed in the hotel lobby, BAU and CARD combined, Hotch checked his watch and said, “We’re all taking the jet back together. Adjust accordingly. Wheels up in thirty.” 

With a smug grin, Salinger collected her cash from Knowles. 

You exchanged a glance with Hotch, one full of long-suffering understanding, and shook your head. 

+++

To save on space, it only seemed reasonable to cozy up to Hotch on the flight home. The three extra bodies meant that almost every seat was full, and sleeping in a ball was the only option. 

Your head rested in Hotch’s lap, pillowed on his suit jacket, while the rest of you curled up on the seat beside him. A case file rested lightly on the side of your head as Aaron reviewed it, flipping pages every once and awhile.

Your phone rang, and Hotch pulled it out of your pocket before you could reach around for it. 

“Hotchner….Hey buddy...Yeah we’ll be home really soon. We’re on the plane right now…” He checked his watch. “It’ll be past your bedtime when we get home, so we’ll come in and say goodnight to you really quick, okay?...Alright. See you soon. I love you.” 

He hung up and tossed the phone on the seat, reclining and stretching his long legs out in front of him. You tapped his knee. “How’s the kid?”

He chuckled. “Good. Apparently there’s mac ‘n cheese for dinner. It’s very exciting.” 

You hummed contentedly, bringing your arm up to rest on his knee as you endeavored to get a little more comfortable. 

Aaron’s hand landed on your shoulder, and he squeezed once. “Missed you.”

You covered his hand with yours. “Missed you, too.”

+++

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[knifefather]

➼ Title: Tutor Me, Chapter 4 ➼ Pairing: Diego Brando/Reader, Johnny Joestar/Reader ➼ Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure ➼ Word Count: 3.8k ➼ Rating: Explicit, 18+ ➼ Contains: Chubby AFAB!Reader, college AU, angst, and sexy fantasies! This is the fourth chapter of this work!

ミ★ View this on ao3! ★彡

ミ★ Twitter | Ko-Fi | Commissions Info ★彡

Preview

After finishing giving Johnny an explanation of the question he was working on, the blond took a minute to gaze at you. “I didn’t know that you were this studious. Maybe you should start tutoring me instead of Diego. Lord knows that I need the help more than him,” Johnny joked with an edge of seriousness in his voice, motioning to the red pen on his page where you marked questions wrong.

His comment hit you like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, your mind was swarmed with ideas of you and Johnny having the same kind of study sessions that you and Diego did.

Before the lewd thoughts could escalate any further, you blinked them away, closing your gaping mouth. You had to get it together before he began to suspect anything. Johnny was grinning at his words, and you stuttered your way through a response. “I-I don’t know, I’ll have to see what I have going on…” you replied, trying to brush it off as best as you could.

He laughed at you playfully. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Monday couldn’t come fast enough. You were elated to take Diego up on his promise that you both would study after school. Though it was unlikely that you would have sex again, part of you hoped that he would make another move on you during your session. Even if it wasn’t a sexual advance, you wanted some sort of hint that perhaps he was having the same feelings you were. The blooming feelings in your bosom were hard to place, but you knew that at this point, you viewed him as more than your classmate. More than just a friend, even. Diego was special to you and you were excited to see him again.

The flow of your thoughts was interrupted at the sound of Dr. Kujo clearing his throat and addressing the class.” Everyone, take your seats now. Class is beginning.” Most of the students were aware that Dr. Kujo ran a tight ship, and everyone promptly quieted and settled down. After a few minutes of the class being in session, your brows came together in worry as you realized that Diego wasn’t in the room. That’s okay. He’s late. He’s always late, but he shows up eventually… you thought to yourself, nervously tapping your pencil against the desk. That much was true. And when he did show up, he always made a scene and was incredibly loud about entering the class. Usually, Dr. Kujo didn’t take his buffoonery kindly and sternly told him to shut up and take a seat.

But that didn’t take place. Your professor instructed the class to take out their textbooks and flip to a specific page, but you weren’t paying attention to which page. A pit of worry formed in your stomach as you realized that Diego wouldn’t be coming to class today. You had mixed thoughts about this: you were worried that he was going to fall even further behind in class, but you were also disappointed that the chance of you studying with him after school was slim. You thought about shooting him a text when you got out of class, and you pondered it for the rest of the lesson. Knowing that you would more than likely be tutoring Diego on this information, too, you made sure to pay extra close attention and take more detailed notes than usual. Even without Diego, the world continued to spin, and your day proceeded as normal.

★・・・・・・★

It’s time for lunch and still no sign of your classmate. You took your usual seat at a lunch table by yourself, sitting your tray on the table. The pit in your stomach earlier scared away your appetite, so instead, you opted to crack open the book that you had been reading. Pulling it from your bag, a sigh escaped you before you began to read once more.

In the novel, the blond hunter is fighting the dark prince for his life while the protagonist is frozen in fear. She snaps out of it when the hunter takes a hard blow to the face. Using her quick thinking, she attacks the dark prince and allows the blond hunter to get a good shot in. However, the prince is meaner, more quick and fierce, and throws off the protagonist before promising her a dark punishment. He badly injures the hunter, who has no choice but to retreat, leaving the protagonist alone. The villain leans down close to her and whispers in her ear the promise of all the ways he will destroy her.

Normally, you would find this much more captivating, especially the suggestive bits, but it did little to arouse you. The book’s contents just made your sour mood grow sourer. As you sat and read, you found yourself feeling disappointed yet again. You weren’t interrupted by Diego like you had become accustomed to. You missed having him around. To keep your mind off of it, you read the book until your next class. By the time you arrived in the classroom, you had a massive headache.

★・・・・・・★

Four o’clock had rolled around and all of your classes were out for the day. Though you knew that it was improbable that Diego wouldn’t show up to the library, you went anyway. You walked into the building, several students still working inside. It was more lively than you were used to, that was for sure. The past few times that you had visited the library, it had been desolate sans you and Diego. You tried to shake those thoughts from your head. Quietly, you sat at a table off in the corner, alone, and waited.

Removing your textbook from your bag, you huffed and opened it up to the first few chapters that you had tried in vain to cover with Diego. This time, you printed out the textbook pages for him, so you wouldn’t be tempted if he read over your shoulder. While you waited, you decided to read more of your book since you had nothing better to do. With an air of sadness, you brought your book from your bag and continued from where you left off during lunch.

The plot of the book only grew darker as you read on. The protagonist has been thrown into a pit of despair, hopelessness grasping her. The dark prince kept her locked away in the cellar, the only light illuminating the space was the light of the moon through the bars of the window. Despite her depression, the protagonist still holds out hope that the hunter would come to save her. Countless times, the dark prince made his way down the cellar, promising her freedom if she would agree to be his queen. She declined every time, knowing that she was strong enough to resist the temptation. There is still no sign of the hunter anywhere. At this point in the story, it seems as though all hope has been lost.

A sharp ping! sound distracted you from the plot of the novel. With a jolt, you looked over at your phone, the screen lit up. First, you scolded yourself for leaving your ringer on while you were in the library and quickly switched your phone to silent. Next, you checked who the offending message was from.

Diego.

Your heart skipped several beats, making you feel as though you got the wind knocked out of you. Greedily, you opened the message and read what he had to say.

Diego 4:29 pm Hey. Just wanted to let you know I’m not gonna be there tonight.

The thundering of your heartbeat stuttered to a halt. The warm, giddy feeling that filled you before fell away to coldness. The disappointment formed an icy ball in your stomach. You could feel your frame drooping involuntarily. Though, you were curious as to if he was okay, and decided to ask him just that.

You 4:29 pm Hi. That’s okay. Where were you today? Are you doing alright?

Diego 4:31 pm You’re really good at asking too many questions

Diego 4:33 pm But if you must know, I’m training for the tournament. Losing is not an option.

Diego told you that you asked too many questions when you were in the car with him on Saturday. It was when you tried to ask him about his family. Perhaps you struck a nerve? You tried to steer the conversation away from something that was going to make him uncomfortable.

You 4:34 pm Sorry about that.

You 4:36 pm Your grade is going to drop if you don’t study :/

Diego 4:37 pm I don’t care. Winning is more important than a study session

Ouch. That really hurt, not going to lie. You wanted to take what Diego said at surface level and not read into it more than needed and hurt your own feelings. However, the thoughts came anyhow. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe his grades weren’t the only thing that wasn’t important besides winning. Unable to think of what to say in response, you left his message on ‘read’ and stowed your phone. The small device burned a hole in your pocket, your fingers itching to ask him more, but you leave it be. You don’t want to push him further away.

At that moment, you realized that you didn’t have much business in the library if you’re not going to be tutoring Diego. You paid attention in class and took all of the notes, and Dr. Kujo was merciful and decided not to assign homework, so you didn’t have to worry much about Marine Biology. Most of your homework was caught up in your other classes, too. With a heavy sigh, you began to pack up your books and leave.

Defeat settled over you as you walked out onto the sidewalk. You were intent on returning to the dorms until you saw two familiar faces that were about to enter the library. They saw you too, and both of the young men called out to you. Johnny and Gyro were both carrying books, looking like they were getting ready for an intense study sesh. “Hey, y/n! Good to see you here,” Johnny greeted, giving you a large, blue smile. His smile was crooked, but it was endearing and made you smile as well. His face fell a bit when he noticed the expression on your face. Gyro noticed as well, but he stayed quiet. “You don’t look so good. Are you okay?” Johnny asked, giving you a concerned look. They didn’t know about what was going on between you and Diego, and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you needed was to lose your friendship with Johnny and Gyro.

“Yeah, I’m okay! What are you guys doing here?” you asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Studying for an upcoming anthropology exam. It’s supposed to be our hardest test yet,” Gyro said, motioning to the stack of books on Johnny’s lap.

Johnny gave an “mhm” and nodded along. “You know, you should come study with us! Or are you on your way out?” Johnny questioned, reaching out to touch your arm gently. You had to fight the blush that was rising to your cheeks as your classmate made contact with you. Gyro stiffened at his gesture, giving you an apprehensive look as you decided on whether or not to join them. Despite the weird look from Gyro, you figured that maybe you could find something to work on in the library after all. The Intro to Humanities notes you took earlier in the day wasn’t very legible because your teacher was talking a million miles a minute. Maybe you’ll rewrite those notes and sit with your friends.

“Actually… I can stay. There’s some stuff that I still need to work on,” you said, much to Johnny’s pleasure.

“Then what are we waiting for? Gyro, can you get the door?” Johnny asked, looking expectantly at his tall friend. Quietly, Gyro opened the door for the both of you, and you all entered the library.

It turns out that you remembered a bit of anthropology from high school. You were able to help Gyro and Johnny study, forgetting about rewriting your notes in favor of helping them. They were both progressing very well through the material, but Gyro moreso than Johnny. It seemed like the man had more of a knack for it, you supposed. After finishing giving Johnny an explanation of the question he was working on, the blond took a minute to gaze at you. “I didn’t know that you were this studious. Maybe you should start tutoring me instead of Diego. Lord knows that I need the help more than him,” Johnny joked with an edge of seriousness in his voice, motioning to the red pen on his page where you marked questions wrong.

His comment hit you like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, your mind was swarmed with ideas of you and Johnny having the same kind of study sessions that you and Diego did.

You envisioned yourself in the library with Johnny instead, alone, the lights dim. You were bouncing on his lap, your dress hiked up while he guided your hips back down to his waist, his callused hands gripping you tight. His blond hair was a mess on his shoulders, his beanie askew while he grabbed you. Blue eyes moved over your form greedily, looking at you as though you were good enough to eat. His cock was piercing you in the most delicious way, angling right into your favorite spot. In your mind's eye, you grabbed his shoulders tighter as he thrust into you.

Johnny’s mouth was open, moaning salacious things to you, that Kentucky twang prominent in his voice. “Come on darlin’, that’s it, move against me,” he moaned in your fantasy, breathing heavily while he rutted into you. “That’s my good girl, take my cock…”

Before the lewd thoughts could escalate any further, you blinked the them, closing your gaping mouth. You had to get it together before he began to suspect anything. Johnny was grinning at his words, and you stuttered your way through a response. “I-I don’t know, I’ll have to see what I have going on…” you replied, trying to brush it off as best as you could.

He laughed at you playfully. “I’ll hold you to that.”

You didn’t miss the way that Gyro’s lips pressed into a thin line. The Italian man played it cool, though, and laughed along half-heartedly with Johnny.

The rest of the study session was nice, and you left with Johnny and Gyro after about an hour or so. The two of them had to practice for the upcoming tournament after studying, so you parted ways with them and headed back to your dorm. While you were walking, you couldn’t shake a certain feeling that was blossoming in your chest. What if you took Johnny up on his invitation to tutoring him? Could you possibly have the same relationship with him that you do with Diego? Or maybe you’re reading his signals wrong? All of the possibilities were present in your mind, and you weren’t sure what to think. On one hand, Johnny was interested in you and would pay you more mind than Diego. However, Diego was the man that you lost your virginity to. And for some reason, you felt a bond with him that you can’t quite shake. You knew in your heart that the events that took place over the weekend changed everything between you and Diego, and that is an unchangeable fact.

The subject weighed heavily on your mind until you reached your dorm room. Hot Pants was there, getting ready to head down to the track. In the middle of putting on her equestrian helmet, she turned and greeted you politely. Chatting with her made your complex thoughts dissipate. Bantering with her was simple, easy. Even though you haven’t known her for very long, you were grateful for her and her ability to keep you from overthinking. She went to practice afterward and you were sad to see her go, now left alone with your deafening thoughts.

★・・・・・・★

It’s almost here, and that thought filled you with dread. It’s Friday, and the tournament is tomorrow. The school week had been rough on your mentality, and you barely saw Diego at all. You caught brief glimpses of him in the halls at school, but he never spared you a glance and always looked straight ahead. It fucked with your emotions, making your already challenging school experience even more difficult to get through. Even though you saw him in the halls, you never saw him in class, and part of you was convinced that he dropped the course. He hadn’t reached out to you since Monday. You thought about texting him first, but you didn’t want to be met with the same cold detachment that he exuded last time. Weirdly, that would have felt worse than being ignored.

Hot Pants, Johnny, and Gyro helped nurse your heartbreak without even realizing how much they were helping. You were beyond grateful for them. In between classes and practicing for the tournament, the four of you hung out almost every opportunity that you could get. The pleasant, budding feelings that you had blooming for Johnny were also a nice distraction from Diego’s absence. Even then, you shouldn’t shake the feeling of loss that tainted your every happy interaction. It felt as if you were going crazy and being with your friends was the only thing that reminded you of saner times.

Hot Pants sat on the edge of your bed in your dorm room, watching one of the newest Netflix dramas that released just that night. The two of you hung out and watched the show while scrolling through your phones periodically, sitting in comfortable silence for the most part. It was nice, relaxing, and definitely what you needed to shake your anxiety.

She knew about everything that happened between you and Diego. The fact that you were quieter when the boys weren’t around tipped her off. One night after class, the pink-haired woman cornered you in the room and asked you about what the hell was going on with you. You spilled everything to her, nearly crying while you went into the details. The crying wasn’t only out of the emotional pain, but also at how embarrassing it was to confess something like that to her. Surprisingly, Hot Pants accepted you and was supportive after you shared your story. While she didn’t have much advice to give, over the following days she was more gentle with you than usual. She would never know how much you appreciated her no matter how many times you told her.

While sitting on the bed, your phone buzzed beside you. Cocking your brow, you picked up the device and saw the message was from Johnny. This was a normal occurrence, but still, it brought a smile to your face when you opened it up.

Johnny 8:21 pm Hey you! <3 I wanted to shoot you a text and see if you’d be coming to the race this weekend?

Johnny 8:23 pm I would love to see you there!

Johnny 8:24 pm You can finally see what all of this practicing has been about ;)

A chuckle rippled through you before beginning to shoot back a reply. However, you hesitated, your fingers slowing. If you accepted the invitation, it is almost certain that you would see Diego at the race. Knowing him, he’d be swarmed by paparazzi and adoring fans, and that was not something that you could handle seeing right now. Though, the question that lingered in your mind was this: What was more important? Supporting the friends that had supported you, or keeping your distance from Diego? After a brief moment of consideration, the answer was clear to you. You texted Johnny back with a look of determination on your face.

You 8:27 pm Hi!! I would love to see you perform at the tournament! I know it’ll be a ton of fun :)

Johnny 8:28 pm Absolutely! I was wondering if you wanted to get dinner with me after the race.

Johnny 8:29 pm Without HP and Gyro, I mean. Just the two of us.

The bulbs of your cheeks were ablaze at the message you just received. Your eyes darted back and forth between the words several times, unable to believe what you read. Hot Pants gave you the side-eye and paused the show. “What’s up with you?” she asked, cocking a pink eyebrow.

You fumbled on your words for a minute before you were able to tell her about what Johnny just asked you. “I think that you should say yes,” Hot Pants said, giving you a steady look. You met her gaze. She understood the reasons why you were thinking about saying no, and yet she encouraged you.

“I think you’re right.”

You 8:32 pm I’m not sure if I can! I have some homework I need to get done before the weekend is up. Maybe if I can finish it I’ll come with you.

Johnny 8:33 pm No problem. Just let me know.

Johnny 8:34 pm Can’t wait to see you there, y/n

You 8:35 pm You too!! <3

A thundering sound was filling your ears as you finished your conversation with Johnny. It was hard to believe that Johnny had asked you out, but here you were, being properly asked out. Now more than ever, you were unsure about your feelings. You had to get some kind of closure for whatever has been going on between you and Diego. Given the time of night, he was probably out of practice and able to use his phone. Already having your messenger app open, you try to reach out to him.

You 8:39 pm Hi there. I just wanted to shoot you a message and say good luck at the tournament tomorrow! I was wondering if I’d be able to talk to you after the race?

For a few minutes, you waited. A response didn’t come. It read “Delivered” so you know a technical error wasn’t the case. Perhaps he’s busy? I’ll probably hear from him tomorrow, you thought to yourself, shrugging. But then you noticed that the “Delivered” line changed to something else.

“Read at 8:52 pm”

By then, Hot Pants had unpaused the program, the episode continuing. Tuning back into the show, you forgot about the message for quite some time. The both of you watched three more episodes, intending to binge the series in one go. The show seemed like it was going to be a typical cliché original, but it was turning out to be pretty entertaining. At some point,  Hot Pants left to go use the restroom, and you took the opportunity to see if Diego texted you back.

Nothing.

The only thing that you were met with was the same “Read at 8:52 pm” that you had seen an hour ago.

He left you on read just as you had done to him on Monday. Honestly, you were upset, but you realized that it was fair. Brows furrowed, you locked your phone before sighing deeply. Something had to give, the situation had to change. With that in mind, you formulated a plan.

After the race, you were going to approach Diego when he was alone and ask him about what was going on. You wanted to keep it as private as possible. If he told you to leave him alone, you would drop it and move on with your life. But you couldn’t give up without trying at least once. With this in mind, you were granted some relief. Hot Pants came back into the room and you continued to binge the show, but the plot was the furthest thing from your mind.

[peterpan-ouat-imagines]

I love you, I hate you- Part 2

Felix telling me that Pan is seeing another girl puts a million thoughts in my head. Does he like her? Why does he feel the need to see and be with her when I’m here? Am I not pretty enough? Or good enough in general? I get worried not knowing what this means. But I don’t get why this is being shared with me either.

“Why are you telling me this? Pan trusts you, he would be livid if he knew you were telling me that kind of information,” I ask not thinking his head is clear.

“I am telling you this because I care about what happens,” he answers. Why does he have to be so freaking vague about everything? ‘What happens’ could mean anything! Ugh.

I try to pry him for more information but he doesn’t budge anymore. Breakfast comes to an end and we all clean up. I go to the medical hut to change my bandages. When I unwrap it, mine now looks terrible. It’s red and goopy and there’s some black cracks up my arm too which is abnormal unless it’s poisoned but we don’t use dreamshade to hunt so it isn’t that concerning. I go to find rubbing alcohol to try and disinfect it but there’s none. I wipe it up some so it’s less messy and put on fresh bandages this time wrapping it tighter than before because I’m still distracted by who this Wendy is and the amount of pressure I use shows that. It pinched my skin so much it hurts.

After it’s taped down I go outside and Felix tells us that we are going to practice sparring and tells us to partner up. I grab a stick and go to my friend Joe and we start doing it. We start fighting just as we normally would. He takes things up a level by going for my legs which obviously I jump for. I do the same and swing my stick at some of his weak spots and he reacts falling a couple times but good overall.

“Joe, go to Lee, I would like to practice with y/n,” Pan says in a business like tone. He nods and goes to the end.

“Pan!” I beam, “I missed you so much!” I exclaim and hug him. I then have the after thought of how he was with someone else and let go and step back quicker than I normally would.

“I missed you too,” he kisses me, “I’m sorry I left without saying anything,” he tells me.

“It’s fine,” I tell him not asking where he went. After a small awkward silence I talk again, “How was it?” I ask wanting to know if being with that other girl was horrible or not.

“It went fantastic. Who I saw was very interesting and I definitely will be going on a trip to see them again soon,” my heart drops when he says that. He likes her, I’m no longer the only girl in his life. Where will I go now? Neverland is for those who are lost and unloved but I feel incredibly more lost and unloved right now than I ever did back home.

We start to spar but I’m too distracted by what he told me to focus on fighting. Within the first 10 seconds he knocks the stick out of my hands.

He looks at me weird, “What’s gotten into you? You were fighting just fine moments ago,” he asks me.

“Just the excitement of having you back,” I lie with a fake half smile. I don’t care if I’m overreacting I feel like I belong on that floor for not being good enough for him.

I fight with him the rest of the time trying to keep my mind focused but it works less than I would hope for it to.

After the morning session he leans in and whispers, “now how about we spend the day doing some stuff to help you relax. You look as if you need it,” as he trails his fingers up and down my back.

I step away uncomfortable doing anything of the sort with my current knowledge, “That’s a nice offer but I’m okay. I had some plans today,” I tell him, “With Lee,” I add on wondering if some jealousy will get him back to wanting me and forgetting about that slut.

He looks confused but not jealous of any sort, “Alright then,” he tells me and then goes his own way.

I stand there lost wondering if he’s being a stupid boy not taking a hint or if he really doesn’t care. Either way I might as well give him attention and maybe flirt a little in front of Pan with him to try to get what I want.

I sit with him at camp all day being real close having Pan glance over at us occasionally unphased even when I try to flirt. He doesn’t flirt back which I didn’t expect because I thought I’ve seen enough signs for him to be into this. After a good couple hours of it I give up and go for a walk alone. I stumble upon Felix again and we get to talking.

“Pan had the best time with her, he plans on going back! I flirted with Lee all day and he didn’t say or do anything!” I tell him.

“Why do you think I care? Isn’t that what your mermaid friends are for? Anyway if you want my advice, do it with someone intimidating not Lee,” he shares.

“My relationship is over,” I state even though Pan hasn’t said it I know inside.

As the day comes to an end people are playing dumb stuff around a fire. I join in and drink. They seem to be playing truth or dare. I just want to forget about Wendy and how Pan left for the night again and get really drunk knowing something bad will happen.

“Y/n, truth or dare?” I’m asked.

“Truth,” I answer.

“Tell everyone what you think of Pan keeping on leaving for the girl in London,” the guy asks.

“Everyone knows about that?” I ask embarrassed. They nod saying they are surprised I found out. Having the alcohol hit me and soon to be regretful words, I pour out everything, “Well I’m pissed as fuck! I’m his girlfriend he should only want me! If he does whatever he wants what’s stopping me from sleeping with one of you? He wouldn’t care!” I see I sparked some of the lost boys interest when I said that as they lean in, “I just want him to want only me not that slut that is in a different realm!” I huff mad.

We play more rounds and I finally choose dare, “I dare you to makeout with me,” Sam sitting next to me says scooting closer, definitely thinking of the slutty comment I said earlier. Feeling so vulnerable and unloved I get ready to lean in to do it. Before I can move my head Felix comes and takes me away to Pan’s cave.

“What was that for? I was going to!-“ I begin lazy.

“I don’t care what you were going to do! I have a job and that’s to keep you safe while Pan is away! And that includes not fucking any lost boys out of anger!”

I turn away from him angry once he goes I feel my injured arm have this horrible pain that’s unlike anything but I’m too drunk and tired to check on it and I fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning with a raging headache and do the regular routine. I hunt with a group of people that’s not Lee for a change. They start talking about what happened last night as we climb in a tree.

“I can’t believe I said all that. Did Sam really try to kiss me?” I ask and they nod and I’m humiliated. I try to spear a boar distracted by something new and miss, it runs off. Rich does it correctly to another one and we carry it back.

I sit next to Felix, “Thanks for having my back last night,” I tell him.

“Just doing my job,” he tells me and sips water.

I sit with him in silence as we both eat.

Felix tells us we will not have a morning practice session and I go back to sleep this hangover off some more.

When I walk in the cheating Peter Pan is standing there.

“Hey,” I tell him holding my head.

“Hey darling how are you?” He asks.

“Exhausted. I got a raging hangover because I was stupid and let the guys rope me into drinking way beyond my normal limits,” I groan.

He comes over and helps me lay down, “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do for you?” He asks being genuine.

“Just some water is fine,” I say. He goes to get some and I look at my arm and even though it’s oozing some I don’t want to get anyone involved and I put on a jacket to hide it.

He comes back with what I asked telling me to get some rest and to call if I need anything that he will be in the tent he does business in.

I nod and sip the water and watch him as he goes. I lay down for several hours left with all my thought in my head I’ve had the past 24 hours. I can’t lose him though. I have to try to win him so I’m the only one he wants.

I go to his tent and see him standing there looking at pieces of parchment, “What are you looking at?” I ask poking my head behind him.

“I’m making a deal with Hook so he continues doing my dirty work,” he tells me.

“What if we do some dirty work?” I whisper and move my hand down to his crotch area and kiss his neck.

I can tell he’s smirking from the corner of my eye and he turns to me, “I’d love to do some dirty work with you,” he whispers back, “but I must finish this. I will later I promise. I do want to,” he kisses my cheek.

“You aren’t going to London? I mean away again tonight?” I correct myself because he does not know I know everything.

“No. I have more important things here. Like you,” he smiles which makes me smile feeling better about my place.

I leave his tent and go to see the mermaids and tell them everything that’s been happening and ask for there incite.

“You’re reading into it Pan loves you he would never cheat,” Serena tries to assure me.

“I don’t know. Two nights in a row on his “business trip” and if Felix of all people say that it’s true it probably is. He doesn’t bullshit stuff,” Alice tells me sounding sceptic.

They go back and forth defending there reasons leaving me confused.

“I still think Lee likes you. Grabbing you by the waist? And not moving his hands once your in a safe spot? That sounds so sexy!” Alice tells me.

“But that doesn’t explain why he didn’t flirt with me,” I tell them.

“He probably knew Pan was there and got nervous. Isn’t he shy? You might have to get him alone,” Serena suggests.

I think about it realizing that actually could be really true, “Thanks girls this has helped a lot,” I head out and find Lee.

He’s sitting around the camp. Right by the tent Pan is in lucky for me. I go to change my nasty bandages for my horrific arm and come back out, “Hey Lee,” I say right by the nylon outside of Pan, “Do you want to get out of here? For a walk in the woods or beach maybe?” I ask. I put my hand on his arm hoping Pan is looking at our shadows.

“Yeah. He smiles. That sounds nice,” he stands up and we walk into the trees. I look back briefly and see Pan staring at us starting to hide in some bushes not far away with a jealous look and I smirk.

[nick-thecreator]

“Finally, A Break” A RE8 Human!au Moreviento Fanfic

I had no fucking clue where I was taking this after a while, so here’s some fic vomit...

I might make more human!au RE8 stuff tho...

_________________________________________________________

“Sal?”

   “Yes?”

   “When do you think you’ll be home?” Donna asked, having been home alone for the past week and a half.

   “I don’t know. it’s been really backed up here, so I’m needed much more than before. I’ll see if I can get Adrian to get here faster, but he’s not one to give up a vacation,” Salvatore replied, rubbing one of his temples, trying to soothe a headache. Donna sighed, placing a hand on her head.

   “You sure?”

   “Unfortunately, yes.”

   “Sir, you’re needed again,” One of the nurses popped into his office. He sighed, looking from the nurse to the phone.

   “Sorry Donna, I need to go.”

   “Okay, I’m going to be at the library tonight again. I have a show.”

   “Great, good luck. Make sure you have everything, okay?”

   “Of course.”

   “Okay, have a good show, bye.”

_________________________________________________________

   “Thank you, good luck, bye.” He hung up before rising from his seat, walking over to the nurse.

   “Who this time?”

   “Alina’s son, Daniel, has had a hard cough and a loss of smell for the past 2 days,” The nurse explained as she led him to their room.

   Everything else through the day was the same, just more tiring every time. Half of the cases were of people that either were sick with Covid, while the other half were either sick with something else or with just small ailments from either the lack of water or sleep. With the latter, he’d be almost jealous of the people who got to go home and get some rest. The naps he had been able to get during his breaks weren’t enough at this point. His back ached, along with a lack of sleep, it gave him a bad headache and aching joints. Even though he just wanted to collapse in his office, preferably on his chair, for some needed rest, he just gritted his teeth and kept working. He had patients to take care of, so he could only hope that Adrian would show up for once.

   At around 5:30, he was in his office, trying to get some sleep, when someone knocked on the door. He groaned, hoping and praying that it was just an update and not being called to work on another patient.

   “It’s unlocked.” The door opened, and Adrian stuck his head in. Salvatore shot up from his seat. “Adrian!?” His face twisted into anger. “You were supposed to be here a week ago!” Adrian smiled sheepishly.

   “Well, listen man, the wife’s been a bitch about that-”

   “Just- nevermind, just get ready for work. Luca should be here in three days to help you-”

   “Three days!? You expect ME to man this place for three-”

   “I ran this place for over a fucking week! Shut the FUCK UP!” Salvatore gritted his teeth, almost hissing his words. The lack of sleep was really messing with him. “Just man the place till then. When he gets here, you’ll switch off every other day. The schedule is in the break room, alright?” Adrian just nodded, his face in a form of shame. Salvatore just sighed, waving him off as Adrian left the room. He got all of his stuff in his briefcase before quickly making a beeline out of the clinic. The nurses wished him a good break, him quickly thanking them while walking out.

   The hit of fresh sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, taking in a deep breath. A small smile on his face, he almost sprinted over to his car, planning to go straight home. He hopped into his car, starting it up and pulling out of the parking space. When he was about to drive out of the parking lot, he thought for a second. He’s spent over a week with people who have Covid. His face went from excitement to worry. He didn’t want to bring Covid home. He remembered his extra set of clothes, cleaning stuff, for both people and surfaces, and the towels he keeps in his trunk for emergencies, like if someone threw up on him. However, there was the threat of himself. He had been cleaning himself with wipes and dry shampoo, so, even though he was “clean”, he wasn’t completely clean.

He thought for a while as he drove down the road, he saw the gym. Surprisingly, it was still open, even through the pandemic. Most likely because it was privately owned, and some people don’t know when to stop. However, it was an opportunity for an answer. He turned around and drove to the gym, parking his car in a parking space. Before getting out of his car, he checked his wallet, just to make sure he had his membership card. He didn’t go to the gym much, besides using it to swim during the winter, so it wasn’t like him to remember it. Maybe that’s why he left it in his wallet. He stepped out of his car, walking over to the trunk after he closed the driver door. He pulled out the bag with clothes in it, putting a towel, a hairbrush, knowing he’d need it, and a bottle of shampoo into the bag before throwing it over his shoulder, closing the trunk and locking the car. He walked over to the gym, putting on his mask before stepping in. Luckily, at the very least, the gym had made masks mandatory, and had signs everywhere about it.

He checked into the front desk before walking into the full part of the gym. He walked along the side of the gym, keeping his eyes down to not cause anything awkward. He finally got to the back, where the locker rooms were located. He walked into the men’s locker room, walking to the back to get to the bathrooms. Inside was a line of urinals against the wall, with a stall right across from them. In the back of the room, there were showers lined up against the wall, enclosed behind a curtain. He walked to the back, placing the bag on the bench next to the showers against the wall, taking his towel, a hairbrush, and a bottle of shampoo with him into the shower, keeping it out enough so it wouldn’t get wet. He then stripped his clothes off, undoing his hair out of its hair tie before turning the shower on, getting hit with the cold water. He jumped back, sticking his hand in every now and then to see if it had warmed up. Eventually, it warmed up, him getting back underneath the shower. He quickly lathered himself in soap, waiting a bit, then rinsing it off before turning off the shower.

He grabbed the towel, drying his body off before trying to dry his hair. While he was drying his hair, it tangled under the towel, so when he pulled the towel off, it resembled a large fluffball on his head. He sighed before peaking out of the shower curtain before quickly stepping out, making sure he was alone in there. There was only one person in one of the stalls. He must have not heard them coming in from the loudness of the water hitting the floor. He dashed over to his bag, pulling out a pair of pants. He didn’t pack any underwear, never really needing to replace them during work hours, and he didn’t mind going commando, even just once. He grabbed the shirt in there after he got his pants on, pulling it over his head and his fluffed hair, straightening it out with his hands. He sat down on the bench, drying off his feet before putting on his socks and shoes. He then grabbed his shampoo and the clothes from work, using the bag so he wouldn’t touch the clothes. He made sure he had taken the hairbrush out first, placing it on the bench. He placed the bag on the bench before picking up the hairbrush. He tried to brush his hair regularly, but it pulled at knots, causing him pain. So, whenever he ran into a knot, he had to pry it apart with his own hands. After what felt like forever, he finally got his hair straightened out, putting the brush on the bench again, not wanting to contaminate the brush too. He placed the towel into the bag before putting his mask on.

He stood up, picking up the bag and the brush, walking out of the bathroom. He walked alongside the wall of the locker room, doing the same in the main gym, before ending up in the lobby again. He checked out, walking out to his car. He unlocked the car, putting the bag in the back before getting into the front seat. He placed the brush in the back before starting the car. Before he pulled out of the parking space, he got an idea. He looked up the schedule to the local library, seeing that a puppet show was scheduled for 6:30pm. He checked the time. 6:22pm. Just enough time. He pulled out of the parking spot, then the parking lot onto the road. After a ten minute drive, he pulled into the library parking lot, parking in one of its spaces. He put on his mask, getting out of his car before locking it. He walked to the entrance of the library, holding the door for a mother and her daughter. He walked in after them, looking around the place. Even though Donna worked there, he hadn’t been there much, so whenever he went there, he would always spend a moment confused on where everything was.

After a while of looking around, he heard some voices having a conversation near the children’s corner. He walked over to it, seeing a group of kids sitting around a puppet show stand. They socially distanced from each other as their parents stood behind them, talking quietly to each other about the performance. He just leaned on one of the bookshelves, watching the show. Donna would usually base her puppet shows off of children’s books and children’s lessons, mainly so it would guarantee that the story was appropriate and enjoyable for the kids. The story today was about a little girl who gets a sickness called “The Spots” from not washing her hands. It gives her rainbow spots all over her body and Covid-like symptoms, and turns everything she touches into candy, which infects the rest of her class. In the end, the teacher tells the kids that if they always wash their hands and make sure they live healthy, they will stay healthy and happy. The kids seemed to enjoy it, as they clapped and smiled at the end, and the adults didn’t complain.

After she had finished, she made the puppets bow as the kids clapped. The adults then collected their kids to go, since the puppet show had lasted till 7:00pm, and they probably had to get home for dinner. Once the majority of them were gone, Donna stood up, finally being able to look over the set up, seeing who was left. Salvatore was still against the wall, smiling at Donna, slowly walking over until she noticed him. Donna, in her see through veil, turned around to put her puppets away before turning around again. He had gotten up to the stand, looking down at her as she was putting the puppets away. She smiled as he smiled back at her, getting down to her level.

“Hey Donna.”

“Adrian finally showed up?” She asked.

“Yeah, finally…” He grumbled. She got all of her puppets put away neatly in her case, before turning to him and giving him a light hug.

“Good, I missed you.”

“I was only gone for a week.”

“Still. It wasn’t planned or anything.” He chuckled, hugging him back. After a bit more time hugging, she pulled away, grabbing her case and standing up. He stood up after her, walking behind her as she stepped out from behind the stand. Another worker walked into the stand behind them, nodding to Donna as she nodded back. The worker started to disassemble the stand as Sal took Donna’s hand in hers as they walked to the front desk.

“Were you able to-”

“Yes, it wasn’t as stressful as before.”

“Even without Angie?” She shuddered.

“Yeah…” She just refocused her attention onto the lady at the front desk.

“Hello Donna, good performance?” The lady asked.

“Yes, definitely,” Donna replied. She held onto Sal’s as they continued their conversation until the lady paid her for her time and energy. Donna thanked the lady and wished her well before gesturing to Salvatore that she wanted to leave. He smiled at the lady as he followed her out of the library.

Once outside, Donna let out a long sigh of relief, looking up at Salvatore. He looked back down at her.

“You couldn’t get a taxi, huh?” He asked. She turned away and nodded. “It’s okay Donna, come on.” He walked with her in the direction of his car. When they got to it, he unlocked the car as she noticed the bag and brush in the backseat.

“What’s that?” She pointed to the bag.

“Covid clothes-” She giggled. “Don’t touch it.” She went silent. Once the car was unlocked, they got into the car. As Salvatore started the car, Donna took her veil off and looked up at him.

“Hey Sal?” She asked.

“Yeah?” He replied, pulling the car out of the parking space.

“How much sleep have you gotten?” He went silent for a second, trying to think of the right answer.

“Over the whole week and a half?”

“Yeah.” He went silent again.

“Well… about…” He scratched his chin. “30-ish hours?” She wasn’t that shocked, considering how tired he looked, with the bags under his eyes.

“You sure you can drive?” He rolled his eyes.

“I’ll make it Donna.” She was going to question him more, but she thought that turning on the radio was a better idea. He was going to complain about it, but she put it on a classical music station, so he just asked if she could turn it down. They eventually got back to their house, getting out of their car once they got into the driveway. He locked the car and went to walk to the door before Donna stopped him.

“What about the bag?” She asked.

“Your bag?” He looked down at her hand, it holding her case of puppets.

“No, your bag? Of clothes?”

“I’ll get it tomorrow,” He answered, unlocking the front door to their small house, opening the door. He held the door open for her, who, after looking back to the car, walked into the house. The house was what you’d expect. The living room and kitchen were both open, with a dining room right in between. A small hallway in the back led to the bathroom and office on the left, and a large bedroom on the right. The rooms had what you’d expect in them. A couch and TV in the living room, a table and a three chairs in the dining room, stuff like a microwave and a pot/knife hanger in the kitchen, regular toiletries in the bathroom, a fax machine and a work desk in the office, and a bed, a TV, a bunch of games with a few consoles on a shelf, and a small desk with Angie on its cahir and stuff like sewing supplies on the desk in the bedroom. The walls in most of the rooms were mostly plain, except in the bedroom and office. The walls in the office had posters on almost every wall, from game posters to movie posters. Most of them were from old collections from when he was a teen, but some were new. The bedroom had mainly framed photos, mostly near the small desk. They contained pictures of Donna’s family and a few friends down at the library. There were only 2 pictures of her and Salvatore in the whole house, one was on the wall next to the desk, and the other was a small photo right above the office desk.

Once Salvatore locked the door behind them once they were both inside, she placed her case down on the couch. Salvatore yawned, stretching for a second, looking over to Donna. Donna looked back at him.

“Feels good to be home,” He stated, looking around.

“Yeah, I stayed in the bedroom for the most part, so the rest of the house should be clean,” She replied. “I did have to order out though…”

“When?” He asked. He knew that he couldn’t get much money home during the days he was gone, but he assumed that there was enough for the time he was gone. However, when he thought about it a bit more, he could see how it could’ve gone in that time. Thank god they had savings...

“Yesterday.”

“Oh, it sounded like it was a few days ago.”

“No, just recently.” She smiled before looking at him most closely. “Did… did you shower recently?”

“Yeah, at the gym. I didn’t want to risk anything.”

“Oh, ok, your hair is still a bit damp.” He chuckled, feeling his hair with one hand, still feeling damp from the shower. They continued their conversation for a minute, until Salvatore yawned again. “Tired?”

“Yeah…”

“You can go to bed if you want. I’ll just order something for dinner.”

“Okay, from where?” She shrugged.

“Yesterday I just got something from mcdonald’s, so if you want something from there?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. You have the code-”

“Of course.”

“Just making sure.” He stretched again. “Sounds like a plan.” She nodded.

“Yep, now you should head to bed before you pass out.”

“You sure you don’t need anything?”

“I’m positive, now bed.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You need it.” She felt so proud of herself for a second, considering that it’s usually Salvatore telling her to sleep. He just rolled his eyes, chuckling.

“Alright, alright, I’ll see if I can,” He replied as Donna guided him in the direction of the bedroom. He walked off into the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed on his stomach. The bed was made for the most part, besides a pillow that had been removed from Donna’s side, but he saw it on her seat next to the small desk. He flipped over, but was met with a shock of pain up his back. He gritted his teeth as he sat up, pulling his phone, keys, and wallet out of his pocket, placing them on the side table. He then placed a hand on his back, trying to soothe the pain as he laid back down. He kicked off his shoes, turning his body to be fully on the bed. He didn’t bother getting under the blanket, considering the time of year, it would just make him more uncomfortable. His back kept hurting, so he just sighed, rolling over and adjusting himself to be on his stomach. He grabbed his pillow, hugging it under his head as he tried to let his tiredness overwhelm the pain in his back.

“Hey Sal, what do you want from McDonald’s?” He looked up from the pillow to look at Donna, who had peeked her head into the room, phone in her hand with someone on the line.

“Just something simple.” He muttered, placing a hand on his back.

“Alright.” She turned back to the phone, resuming the order she was placing. After a bit more talking, mainly about price, payment, and location, she hung up the phone before turning back to Sal. “I just got some side stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Mostly fries, but I did get some ice cream too.”

“Really?” He chuckled. “Fries?”

“Should I have gotten something else?” She asked, slightly worried. “I didn’t-”

“It’s fine Donna, really, I just thought it was funny,” He tried to console her, sitting up slightly before going right back to laying down, gritting his teeth. She noticed, getting a bit closer to them, getting to his level.

“Your back okay?” She tilted her head. He nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” She placed her hand on top of his.

“You sure? You don’t seem to be?” She pressed a bit on his back, making him groan. She quickly pulled her hand back, looking down. “Sorry sorry sorry sorry-”

“It’s okay Donna, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He took his hand off of his back, holding onto her hand. She looked back up at him and smiled slightly, Salvatore smiling back. “You gonna put your puppets away tonight?”

“Maybe, I’m not sure. I probably will,” Donna replied. “The food’s gonna be here in 30 minutes by the way.”

“Great, what do you wanna do until then?” He asked. She thought for a second before letting go of his hand, walking around the bed and sitting down on her side.

“We could watch something?” She held up the remote controller as he turned his head to see her on the other side.

“Like what?”

“Maybe… Little Women?” He thought for a second.

“Sure, the English or Romanian dub?”

“It’s the 1994 one.”

“Oh, English then.” He slowly went to get up again, before falling back down onto the bed, gritting his teeth again in pain.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asked again, a bit more serious this time.

“Yes, I am.”

“You don’t sound like you are.” She slipped her shoes off before getting closer to him. “You look like a dying walrus.” She giggled.

“I’m not that fat,” He joked. “And my teeth aren’t that big.” They both laughed as Donna got a bit closer.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant that you’re just… flopping every time you get up, and I think I know why.” She placed her hand on his upper back, feeling his scars under his shirt. He looked up at her.

“I really am fi-”

“You’re really hard here.” She pushed a bit on his back, it being very hard under her hand. “From working?” He looked down, nodding.

“Work’s been hard…”

“You sure you don’t want any help? I could try.” She placed her other hand on his back, lightly rubbing his upper back. Salvatore had rubbed her back plenty of times, whenever she would get stressed, but she hadn’t returned it as much, considering that she didn’t really know how to. There was also the fact that he had never bothered to ask. He usually just took a bath or could just fall asleep to relieve his pain, but the extra work had taken its toll. He thought for a second.

“Alright, fine. If you want to try, I can help.” She smiled, him smiling back.

“Okay, um… how should I do this?”

“Depends, you want me to sit up or will it be easier for you to do this with me laying down?”

“You can stay down, it’s fine.”

“Okay, you can get on my lower waist, if you want. You’ll be at a better angle.” She hesitated for a second, looking at his lower waist then back to him.

“Really?”

“I can always sit up instead-”

“No! Um… no, I can.”

“You sure? I don’t mind-”

“I can, don’t worry.” She slowly pulled herself up and over his waist, sitting down, straddling his waist under her. Donna tried not to think about it, placing her hands onto his back. “So… now what do I do?”

“Okay, you see where your hands are placed now?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, move your hands up a bit.” She did so till her hands were halfway over the hard places on his back. “Alright, you feel where it’s hard?”

“Uh huh.”

“Take your thumbs and push down and forward, guiding your hands with it. Okay?” She nodded, doing so on his back. He put his face back into the pillow for a second, letting out a light groan of relief.

“Like that?” She asked. He nodded, taking his head out of the pillow for a second.

“Yeah, just like that,” He replied. He put his face back into the pillow as she did it again. He slowly relaxed as she picked up a tempo, moving a bit once a while when he asked. It was silent for the most part, but it was also oddly peaceful in that silence. Both of their jobs usually had a lot of noise, even for Donna’s job in a library, but when they were home, the silence that came with that tended to be more comforting than uncomfortable, even if it did before they came together.

After a while, once they were done, the doorbell rang. Donna, who was getting off of Salvatore at this point, quickly got off and went to the door. Salvatore got up after her, his back feeling better than before. She got to the door first, opening it to nobody at the door, a bag and a drink holder left on the steps. She picked them up, bringing them in and closing the door.

“Hungry?” She asked, holding up the bag, smiling, walking into the dining room. He followed her there, her placing the bag and holder onto the table. He walked up to her, sticking his hand out a bit in front of her, before getting a nod so he could place a hand on her shoulder. She opened the bag, looking back up at him. “Well?”

“Yes, I am now,” He replied, slowly putting his arms around her. She started to take things out of the bag before Salvatore quickly kissed her head. She looked up again.

“What was that for?”

“My thanks.”

“For what?” He chuckled.

“You fully know what.” He kissed her head again. She smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

Ima just put this here and go now-

[ruzek-halstead]

this thing

pairing: luke patterson x julie molina

julie's new assignment in her music program is to write a duet with a partner. her partner? nick.

a simple fic all about a jealous luke patterson.

“is it terrible that i want you all to myself?”

masterlist || ao3

When Caleb’s curse was broken, and Luke could finally touch Julie, he thought that everything would change.

It was no secret to anyone that they had a connection; it was evident in everything they did. And after their emotional embrace when they thought it was the end, he thought nothing else could go wrong. This was where he was meant to be, with Julie and his best friends by his side.

He was wrong.

Things slowly went back to normal. They continued playing local gigs, and Luke and Julie continued writing songs together. It was different now. They could touch each other, but they weren’t sure how to go about it. They mostly stuck to light touches; shoulders pressing on the piano bench, fingers brushing against each other or Luke throwing an arm around her shoulders when he got super excited about something.

It was a slow going process, but he was working on it.

Well, he was trying. But every time he made some progress, a roadblock would always come up.

Julie’s new assignment in her music program included writing a song; she had to write a duet with a partner.

“A duet?” Luke snorted. “Perfect. We can write one right now.”

Julie shot him an awkward smile, patting his arm so he halted on the piano keys. “No,” she explained. “I have to write a duet with a partner from my class.”

“Oh,” Alex exclaimed, wondering why she looked so nervous. “Are we finally going to hear a Double Trouble original?”

She laughed nervously. “No,” she repeated again.

“I can’t be the only confused one right now,” Reggie replied, “how is this conversation taking so long?”

Luke looked up at her from his position on the piano bench. “Yeah Jules, what’s going on?”

“My partner is Nick!” She exclaimed in one large breath.

Alex dropped one of his drumsticks, Reggie tripped over his amp cord and Luke pressed down harshly on the piano keys, resulting in a cringe from the whole band.

It was something out of a movie, honestly.

“Oh,” Luke murmured. ‘Oh’ is something you say when you are gifted socks, but he honestly couldn’t think of anything else to say. “That sounds uh — like fun. Sounds like fun.”

Alex was sharing a look with Reggie, as Julie avoided Luke’s eye contact.

“Uh — when are you guys doing that?” Alex asked, trying to keep the conversation alive. It was too late; it was already way past the point of awkward.

Julie busied herself with grabbing her songbook. “He should be here soon, actually. Do you think you guys could — uh, disappear?”

Luke wasn’t expecting that to hurt as much as it did.

“Uh, yeah, we can do that,” he replied in a clipped tone. He moved away from the piano, grabbed his acoustic and shot a pointed look to Alex and Reggie. “Come on boys, let’s disappear.”

He didn’t wait for a reply from Julie to poof away.

Alex shot her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. We’ll catch you later.”

Reggie wished her the best with the song and they both poofed away.

x

Julie wasn’t completely clueless. She could tell that Luke was a little bit put off by her news, and while she wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, she knew that wasn’t normal Luke behaviour. Unfortunately, her mind was a little too preoccupied with Nick and the current song they had to write.

She was honest with Nick. She told him she had feelings for someone else, and he understood that. And now she had to write a duet with him? Most likely a love song? That just made things weird. And confusing.

But to her surprise, things actually went much better than expected.

She was used to writing songs with Luke, and only Luke; so, this was a completely new experience, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Nick was fun and understanding, and didn’t push her. Now that their feelings were out of the way, she could really see herself becoming great friends with Nick.

But then Luke poofed into the studio unexpectedly, and she wasn’t so sure.

Julie and Nick were sitting on the piano bench, and she was playing with the keys, trying to find a suitable melody. Luke was hoping Nick would be gone by now, but instead he was faced with Nick, in his place next to Julie.

It lit a fire inside of him.

“Well, isn’t this cute?” Luke exclaimed, a slight tease of sarcasm in his tone. “How’s the song going?”

Julie shot him a tense smile while Nick was looking down at her fingers splayed over the piano keys.

“Oh, right,” he smirked, “you can’t talk to me while Nicky-poo is here, or else he’ll think you’re a little crazy.”

Julie shook him off, focusing on the notes she was playing.

“So, what kind of song is it?” Luke was suddenly right beside her, in between her and Nick. She rolled her eyes, trying to refocus once again. “Does Nick even know how to play the piano? He looks pretty clueless.”

She huffed in frustration and caught Nick’s attention.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked, looking at her in concern. Luke appeared beside him, mimicking his expression.

Julie gritted her teeth together. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine,” she explained, “I just have this horrible, annoying headache that won’t seem to go away.”

Luke placed a hand over his heart and pulled a frown. “That hurts, Julie,” he pouted, “but not as much as this. Does he really think these are good song lyrics?” He was looking over Nick’s shoulder, at the lines he’d scribbled into a notebook. “Jules, you can’t be serious.”

Her fingers pressed extra harshly on the keys. “Is he trying to write you a love song?” Luke gasped, crowding her space now. “Is Nicky-poo trying to express his love for you in a song? Is he really trying to do that with these lyrics? Because honestly, they’re worse than Reggie’s country so—“

“Oh my god!” Julie exploded, smashing down on the piano keys. The constant buzzing in her ears coming from Luke caused her to snap and within seconds, she was turning to Nick apologetically. “Oh my god,” she added, softer this time, “I’m so sorry. I —“

Nick shook his head, smiling politely. “No, it’s alright. I think I should go. We can meet up some other time.”

Julie watched him go helplessly. “Okay — I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it Jules, see you at school.”

Luke hopped onto the piano as Nick closed the door to the garage. “Finally, he’s gone! Honestly Julie, I think you can do better. Also, why is he calling you Jules? That’s reserved for the band only. Oh, and Flynn.”

Julie trained her murderous glare onto the boy sitting obliviously on the piano. “Luke, what the hell?”

“What?” He asked her thoughtlessly, reaching for his journal and flipping to a blank page. “We should really start on this new song; we have a show on Friday and the phantoms are expecting some new material. I think Flynn —“

“No Luke, what the hell?”

He just blinked at her.

“You knew we were writing a song! Why did you come back here?”

Luke merely shrugged. “I thought you guys were done.”

“And then when you realized we weren’t done, why didn’t you leave?” She asked angrily. He seemed so oblivious and nonchalant; it was starting to drive her crazy.

“This was just too precious to miss,” he smirked. “Plus, I figured you’d need help writing that song. No one does it like us, and his lyrics sucked.”

Julie stood up from the piano bench and started pacing. “Why are you being so mean? You don’t even know Nick.”

“I don’t need to,” he shrugged, “he’s clearly just into you and using this as an excuse to hit on you.”

She sent him a confused look. “What are you even talking about? Nick and I are just friends!”

“Sure,” he snorted, refusing to make eye contact.

Julie stopped in her tracks, turning to him with an amused, yet nervous expression. “Luke, are you — are you jealous?”

Luke’s head snapped up and his hazel eyes narrowed. “Jealous?”

“Yeah, jealous!” She argued. “You showed up here when you knew I was busy with him, you insulted him I don’t know how many times and you basically drove me crazy until I drove him away!”

Luke pursed his lips. “That sounds like a you problem.” Julie raised an eyebrow. “I learned that from Alex. You know what else I learned? He taught me what a ‘simp’ is but honestly, I really don’t get it —“

“Why are you changing the subject?” Julie asked in a demanding tone. She moved in front of him, where he was perched on top of the piano. “You’re acting like a jealous bo—“

Luke’s eyebrows raised up underneath his fringe. “Like a jealous what?”

“Like a jealous boyfriend!” Julie exploded. She threw her arms up in frustration, nearly hitting his knee.

Luke rolled his eyes and slipped around her and off the piano. “Okay, Julie,” he frowned, “I am not jealous. I just have a duty to save the world from terrible lyrics.”

“I was writing the song too. Are you calling my lyrics terrible?”

Luke furrowed his brows, pausing in his stride. “Wait, no. That’s not what I said.”

“Terrible lyrics. That’s what you said.”

“Yes, okay. That’s what I said but not what I meant,” he replied, looking extremely confused. “This conversation is getting away from me.”

Julie rolled her eyes, grabbing her songbook and heading for the door. “Good, because I’m finished with it.”

“Wait, wait — Julie,” Luke groaned, rushing to move in front of her and block her exit. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Julie pursed her lips and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Okaaaay,” he dragged out, the corner of his lips quirking up nervously. “That’s obviously not good enough.”

He waited for her to say something and sighed when she didn’t.

“Okay, yes, I was jealous,” he huffed, avoiding eye contact. “I just thought — I thought you were over him and I thought there was something here. You know,” he mumbled, motioning between the two of them, “between us.”

“Luke,” Julie sighed, “Nick and I really are just friends. He asked me out and I said no, and he’s okay with that. We’re solely working on our assignment.”

Luke nodded, meeting her eyes in an awkward glance. “Oh.”

“You have no reason to be jealous,” she grinned, “you’re still my favourite song writing partner.”

He puffed out his chest, leaning back against the door with a charming smile. “I better be.”

They spent the next moment staring into each other’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I acted like an idiot,” Luke apologized quietly. “Is it terrible that I want you all to myself?”

Julie rolled her eyes, attempting to mask her sudden shyness. “Not when you say it like that.”

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour for your next writing session,” he replied with a cheeky smile; Julie raised an eyebrow. “Right, yes. I’ll be sure to be nowhere near here.”

Julie shook her head, laughing and pushing against Luke’s shoulder as she walked away. It was still unusual to be able to touch him, even for little things like shoulder touches. But now that she could, it happened without her even thinking about it.

“But seriously, can we write our song now? I’m feeling extra inspired.”

Julie rolled her eyes, but made her way to her seat beside him on the piano bench where he was waiting expectantly. “Why is that?”

“Because I have this thing with this really beautiful girl, and I think it’s about time we wrote a proper song about it.”