#pinning this so i can gaze upon her smile every day. yup

[miurenne]

the sheer JOY on her face when she talks about the power of propaganda lmfao

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

Hi! I'm the anon that asked for any requests you are comfortable or not with, first of all, thanks for answer my question! And second, would you be so kind to write about a male villain confessing his feelings to a female hero with some sexual tension in the middle and then if you want that the thing ends up in something nsfw, please?^^

Request #24

Warning: nsfw.

Man, this one came out long, but I'm hella happy with it! Also, having the characters have different genders really made the writing easier, so I'm probably gonna be doing that more often, lmao.

Enjoy, dear anon!

~~~~

"Ugh! Why are you like this?!" - Hero exclaimed, frustrated as she threw another punch in the villain's direction. He dodged it with ease and caught her wrist, swiftly bringing her closer and landing a hit on her face.

Disoriented, the hero couldn't do anything as Villain pinned her against the wall, her arms held above her head. They were both panting, gasping for air from the exhausting fight that had led them to this point. She tugged at her wrists, trying to break free, but his grip was unyielding.

"Why am I like what?" - the villain asked, making Hero's blood boil even more.

"Don't play dumb!" - she growled out, snarling angrily. "You've been doing this shit for weeks now!"

Before Villain could question her more, the hero lunged her head forward and bit him on the face, catching him off guard. His grip loosened, and his nemesis was quick to take advantage of it. She freed her arms, grasped onto him, and threw them both to the ground.

They thrashed around, rolling all over the dusty floor of the abandoned warehouse they were in until eventually, Hero found herself on top of her enemy, straddling his hips, pinning down his wrists on either side of his head.

Now, even more tired, they glared at each other. The woman decided to voice her frustrations further. "Every. Fucking. Day." - she started.

"Every fucking day, you've been doing whatever you can to waste my time and force me out into the field."

The villain grit his teeth. "I'm not doing this to waste your time."

"Oh, yeah? Then why-" - the hero was never able to finish talking as Villain jutted his hips and threw her off balance. He rolled them both over, swapping their places so that he was on top.

"BECAUSE I WANTED TO SEE YOU!" - the villain exclaimed without thinking, too frustrated to think twice before speaking.

She gaped at him, trying to understand his words. "You-? W-What?"

He faltered, regret starting to eat away at him. He should not have said that. He should not have said-

They switched places again. Hero was on top of Villain, and- ah, shit- he hadn't realized just how close she was- how- how intimate this felt...

A blush threatened to take over his face, but he fought against it, successfully keeping it at bay. Or at least, he was successful until the hero decided to hover her face right in front of his own.

Suspicious, she questioned, "What do you mean you 'wanted to see me?'"

"I- I uh..." - what the hell was happening?! Since when did he stutter?! He couldn't come up with a reasonable answer, and he refused to tell the truth. So, he just shut his mouth.

She waited a few more seconds, hoping he would answer. But silence and shifty eyes were all that she got.

"Villain, c'mon! What is up with you recently?" - Hero tried again, but the villain still refused to talk. He wasn't even looking at her anymore.

Annoyed, she held down his wrists with one hand while the other grabbed his chin, tilting his head and catching his attention. Their eyes locked, and she swore his pupils were more dilated than usual.

"You've just been acting so weird lately! And, I- I just-" - she stopped, furrowing her eyebrows as she got lost in thought. Was... Was Villain blushing? This was all so- so unlike him!

His pupils are wide, he doesn't want to look at her, and he said he was doing all of this because he 'wanted to see her?' What did any of this mean?! And what the hell is poking her in the-

Oh

A blush assaulted her face as the dots suddenly connected, her lips forming into a thin line as she looked down at their touching crotches.

She looked back at him. His face was even brighter, a look in his eyes.

Oh

Hero's brain scrambled to break the silence, but her words did not want to cooperate. "I- Do- Do you- Are you-"

"I like you!" - Villain blurted out. He could feel the sweat going down the side of his face as the hero above him became stunned.

"I- I really uh- really like you." - he said again.

Breaking out of her daze, she responded, "Uh... Yeah, I- I can tell."

...

Holy shit, this was awkward.

...

The hold on his chin had loosened at some point, and he looked away again. She broke the silence once more. "How long?"

He almost choked on his spit, looking back to her. "H-Huh?"

"How long have you uh... had feelings for me?"

Oooh, right.

"I- I don't know..." - he admitted. "It just... kind of... happened somewhere along the line...?"

She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for something. Oh, God, what will she say? This is the part where she calls him a weirdo and runs away, isn't it?

"It's... nice to know I'm not the only idiot around here then."

...

"What?"

Clearing her throat, Hero shily muttered, "I- I like you too."

Villain was pretty sure his brain had just short-circuited. Did- Did he hear that right?

"I- You- You like me back?"

She nodded in reply. He was still shocked that this was happening. What were they supposed to do now? Fight? He didn't really want to fight. He had some... other activities on the mind.

Sighing internally, Villain did his best to collect his thoughts. Someone had to move this conversation forward, and it seemed like the hero wouldn't be the one to do it.

"Do you... still want to fight?" - he asked. She looked at him a bit puzzled before her equally fried mind caught up. "I mean- I just... don't really feel like it anymore."

"Uh... Y-Yeah, alright." - she responded, releasing her grip and carefully moving off him so that their crotches wouldn't brush against one another. The villain sat up, and they both remained there on the ground, playing with the dust to keep themselves distracted.

...

It was quiet again. Villain almost groaned, angry with himself. He wanted to say something, but- How was he supposed to say this? It's not like he could just-

"Do you wanna fuck?" - Hero suddenly blurted out, and he sputtered, unable to respond like a functioning human being.

She panicked a bit. "S-Sorry! Uh- Too- Too forward?"

"Y-Yes! I- I mean no! I- I mean-" - he buried his face in his hands. Why was this so difficult?! He was an adult! Both of them were!

Wait- An adult, yes! Just- Think, Villain. How would a sensible adult proceed in this situation?

He uncovered his eyes, taking a look around. They were both on the ground, covered in sweat, dirt, and decades-old dust. They had gotten some good hits on each other, so they had some bruises and cuts.

So, if they were to... have sex - he still couldn't believe this was happening - the most responsible thing to do would probably be... going elsewhere...? But where? To one of their houses, perhaps?

Villain sighed audibly, catching the hero's attention. "Do you... want to come over to my place?"

Her eyes widened, and her face burned brighter at his question. He added frantically, "O-Or we could go to your place! Or- Or no place at all! We could just forget this ever happe-!"

He froze as fingers pressed against his lips, silencing him. He looked at her again. She smiled nervously before saying, "W-We can't forget about this. We could try, but..."

Her eyes traveled up and down his body quickly, studying him, and he couldn't help but shiver under her gaze. "...I'm pretty sure we would both fail miserably."

She pulled her hand back, and he already missed her touch.

"So..." - she started. "...Your place...?"

"S-Sure." - Villain managed to answer. He lifted himself off the ground and offered her his hand, which she took. Upon pulling her up, their bodies lightly collided, Hero's hands landing on his chest to steady herself and one of the villain's hands catching her by the waist. They silently stood there for a moment, blushing as if they had never touched another person, before swiftly separating.

With some awkward coughs and clearing of throats, they were on the move again, working together so they wouldn't get seen.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"This is your house?" - the hero asked, looking around. The tension between them had eased a bit since they left the warehouse. "I won't lie, I always imagined it to be... a lot less normal than this."

Villain snorted at that. "What, were you expecting red string and cork boards?"

She didn't answer, only biting the inside of her cheek and crossing her arms, making him chuckle a bit before getting back on track. He led her through the house, arriving at a bathroom. "I think it'd be best if we got cleaned up a bit since we've been rolling around in dirt and whatnot all day."

"Why, Villain. Are you being responsible?" - Hero asked playfully. He gave her an "Oh- shush." before showing her where everything was. A smile crept onto his face regardless; he had missed their casual banter.

"Now, I have another bathroom upstairs connected to my bedroom, so once you're done, you can uh... you can join me... I guess..."

"Smooth." - she replied teasingly, getting a blush from him. "I got one more question, though."

"Yes?"

She grinned, looking forward to his reaction. "What am I supposed to wear?"

Villain seemed to freeze for a moment before it registered in his brain that Hero did not, in fact, have any spare clothing to put on. His blush worsened tenfold, and she laughed.

Through her giggles, she asked, "Do you want me to just come upstairs nake-?"

"Bathrobe! Yup! There's uh- There's one right there!" - he blurted out, not letting her finish. She looked to where he was pointing, and there was indeed a bathrobe hanging there, next to some towels.

She gave another small chuckle. "Alright."

Turning back to him, she lightly bit her lip and gave him a look, tracing a finger along his jawline. "But you better wear one too~."

Hero didn't realize a person could blush this badly. For the poor villain's sake, she kept her giggles in this time, letting him respond. "Y-You got it!"

With that, Villain left. He walked out calmly, but a few seconds later, she still heard him sprint down the hall and couldn't keep her laughter to herself.

As he moved up the stairs - way too quickly for it to be normal - he silently cursed himself. Why was he acting like such an idiot?! He had sex before! This was nothing new!

No, no, it's not that this was new or something. It wasn't his fault! It was Hero's!

Hero with her stupid smile that made his knees weak, and her dumb laughter that made his heart flutter, and- and...

...

Has Villain ever felt like this before? Has he ever... fallen for someone like this?

Perhaps before he had become the villain, but... that was a long time ago. He no longer remembered anything from that part of his life. He only remembered the now. He only remembered his fights with Hero.

As he arrived at his bedroom's bathroom, he smiled. The woman really had taken over his mind, hadn't she? She was incredible, no other like her. And amazingly enough, she returned his feelings too.

The villain stripped free of his ruined clothing and hopped into the shower. Rubbing soap onto his dirtied skin, he pondered on that thought. Did she truly feel the same way? What if this was... just some elaborate trick...?

He faltered for a moment, having not considered such an option. What if the hero wanted to catch him off guard...? While he was vulnerable...?

He shook his head. No, that couldn't be the case. He knew her. He knew how her real laughter sounded. He knew how she looked when she was acting, pretending to be happy. And this... this was no act.

Hero loved him back.

Villain knew that. His mind just enjoyed tormenting him sometimes.

As he scrubbed at his scalp and hair, he returned to the present. Hero was here, in his house, and they were basically about to have sex together. His face flushed red again as another thought crossed his mind. Who...

Who would be on top...?

...

Honestly, the villain was fine with being either but... he'd be lying if he said Hero didn't look hot as hell on top of him.

Dear Lord, he was getting turned on just thinking about how she had pinned him down earlier.

...

He really needed to get out of the shower already. Getting back on track, he fully rinsed himself and turned the water off. Hurriedly, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off. Once done with that, he wrapped himself in a bathrobe identical to the one downstairs. It was soft and warm. It helped calm him.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the door's handle and opened it. Upon doing so, Villain was met with the sight of Hero casually lying on his bed, loosely wrapped in her bathrobe. He could see her cleavage and- shit, he was staring-

Looking away and clearing his throat, he closed the bathroom door.

"Took your sweet time in there, huh?" - she asked with that playful expression back on her face once more. The villain went to respond, but she smirked and continued. "Didn't start the fun without me, did you~?"

"N-No." - he said, and she chuckled at his nervousness. Why was he like this? This was his house and his bed that Hero was lying on! She was just being so confident and... and taking charge and...

She grinned wider, amused as she looked at his crotch. He also looked.

...

Shit.

Well, if that didn't make it obvious he was enjoying this...

...

He looked back up at Hero, and she wiggled her finger at him, beckoning him to come and join her. He silently obliged, crawling onto the bed and sitting in front of her. She was leaning against the headboard, soft pillows arranged so that they would support her back.

The hero scooted forward a bit. Feeling daring, Villain copied her and gasped as he suddenly found himself under her. She had grabbed him and switched their places before he could react, pressing him against the headboard and straddling him.

He stammered, trying to come up with something to say, but grew silent as Hero cradled his cheek. Her thumb rested on his lips as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I hope you weren't planning on being the top~?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he answered, breathless, "No... I wouldn't have this any other way..."

She grinned at him, eyes half-lidded as she tangled her hands in his hair. He sighed, relaxing under her touch as she brought their lips together in a soft kiss. Villain's arms wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer.

A moan hummed in his throat as Hero's hands trailed down his chest and landed on his bathrobe's belt. Slowly, teasingly, she untied it, the fabric loosening around him, letting her slip it off him, exposing his body to her.

Shivers coursed through the villain as her hands glided along his bare skin. He wanted to feel her too. His hands traced her curves, sneaking towards her belt. As his fingers brushed against it, she caught his wrists, scolding him lightly. "Ah, ah. Not allowed~."

He opened his mouth to protest, but only a gasp left him as one of her hands went to his cock. The hero's fingers brushed against it, her touch feather-light, experienced. Villain grasped at the bedsheet below them, breath coming out uneven as she slowly stroked him.

Even as she drew pleasured mewls from him, she took a moment to admire his shaft. It was a decent length, not the biggest one out there, but certainly above the average. It was just right for her, and she complimented so, whispering in his ear again, "You're the perfect size~. And it looks so nice too~."

He shuddered at her words, and she moved her face in front of him once more. Their mouths locked again, her free hand grabbing the back of his head, pulling him in. She seized his bottom lip in her teeth, nibbling on it gently. Her tongue asked for entrance, and he let her in, deepening the kiss. She explored the inside of his mouth, memorizing every nook and cranny.

Villain sucked in a sharp breath as Hero's hand stopped, and her thumb began running small circles on the tip of his dick, smearing pre-cum across it. As their lips parted again, they gasped for air. Another smile graced her features as he begged. "F-Fuck! Hero, please, can I touch you? Please."

The woman hummed, considering his plea. She adored the needy look on his face, the way his fingers twitched around the clutched bed sheets, desperate for contact. The hero gave a small chuckle. "Well, since you asked so nicely~."

With the permission given, the villain's hands immediately moved to strip her free of her robe. She laughed some more at his haste before kissing him again. Low moans left them both as they touched and teased each other. His hands trailed down her spine, making her arch into him and raising more pleasured sounds from her.

Showing her approval, Hero stroked Villain a few times, her movements swift and firm, drawing another shudder from him. They separated for air again, her hands moving up to cradle his face as she suggested, "How about we get to the fun part now~?"

His hands trailed to her hips, his mouth opened to reply, but he suddenly pulled back, looking as if he just remembered something. "Oh, hold on."

The hero watched curiously as he leaned to the side of the bed towards a nightstand. The villain opened one of the drawers and pulled something out of it. She gave an amused snort once the two objects entered her vision.

"What?" - he asked as she giggled again, looking between her, the bottle of lube and condom in his hands.

"I don't get to see you being a responsible adult very often. It's cute." - she admitted, making him blush once more without fail.

He grumbled under his breath, but the smile on his face told her there was no bite behind it. She took the small bottle from him and moved back a bit. Villain paid her no mind, focused on getting the condom out of its package and slipping it on. Once he successfully finished his task, he looked up again.

His dick twitched at the sight that greeted him. Hero was sitting on the other end of the bed, her legs spread wide as she poured some lube onto her throbbing sex. She gasped lightly as the cold substance made contact and then used her hand to tease at her folds.

The villain watched as she slipped a finger inside herself, slowly moving in and out. His own hand went to his cock, stroking himself as he grew entranced by the show. He matched her pace, and she groaned quietly as she slipped a second finger in, stretching herself in preparation.

Their eyes locked, and they stayed that way for a little bit, pleasuring themselves and listening to one another's soft gasps and moans. Eventually, Hero's impatience got the best of her. She pulled her fingers out and crawled over to Villain.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, she positioned herself at his dick, and he held her by the waist, giving her some additional support. They inhaled shakily in unison as she took in the tip of his cock. She moved down slowly, letting herself adjust to his size, and he made no complaints, haphazardly leaving small pecks on her face, which got another giggle out of her.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of her, he ran his hands down her thighs, making her shiver and pull him into another kiss. Her touch trailed over his sides to his hips and then back up to cradle his head. His own hands moved up her body, one grasping her breast, squeezing and kneading while the other moved to get tangled in her hair.

Experimentally, the hero moved her hips forward, making them both moan against one another, the sound muffled by their connected lips. Leisurely, she began moving up and down, setting a calm pace, the slight pain of being stretched around him fading into pleasure. Their mouths parted again, and quickly, they got lost in their lust and each other's eyes.

She sped up, their skin beginning to slap together, sounding across the room but still drowning in their moans and mewls. As their pleasure began to build up inside their guts, their hands traveled without a set destination, wanting to feel as much as they could.

A gasp left Hero's lips as Villain's shaft hit the right spot, and she angled herself, focusing on it and moving even faster, her breasts bouncing in rhythm with her rapid pace. Thrust after thrust, their breathing swiftly turned shaky, chaotic. Their minds grew frantic as their orgasms approached them.

The hero's head tilted back, and she tightly held onto the villain's shoulders as release washed over her. His name left her lips in a low moan that echoed in his head, and it didn't take long for him to come as well, Hero's name leaving him in an identical manner.

Coming down from their highs, they slowed down, enjoying the pleasure for a bit longer with some calm thrusts and movements. They locked in a soft, short kiss before eventually parting and coming to a stop. Together they gasped for air and took a moment to rest as sweat dripped down their bodies.

Once she had regained some energy, Hero slid off Villain, making them both shudder at the feeling. She collapsed on the bed beside him, and soon, he copied her, lying down next to her. The two remained like that for a few minutes, calming their racing hearts and basking in the afterglow.

A small chuckle caught the villain's attention, and he turned his head towards the hero. She gave him a lazy smile before explaining her giddiness. "Looks like we'll need another shower."

He gave her a chuckle of his own before an idea crossed his mind. "Well, I do have a jacuzzi tub..."

With a grin that Hero considered too charming for Villain's own good, he offered, "Wanna take a bath together~?"

She giggled fondly. "Sure."

And then, together, off they went to get cleaned up again.

[mingoyeob-archive]

45 and 78 with jungkook pls🥺(Btw i love your writing and take your time for part 3☺️)

under the oak tree drabble game ⚔️🌳 to make up for my delayed release of part 3 of under the oak tree i’ve decided to do a drabble game! send me a number + any of the characters from under the oak tree and i’ll write you a drabble :)

hi thank you guys so much for requesting and also for being patient with me anon! I combined these two asks because you both asked for 78 so other anon you get a little something extra haha! I hope you enjoy <3

45: “Take.It.Off” + 78. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more gorgeous” - jjk x reader - word count: 1.4k

Around the castle people buzzed and shuffled, zipping past one another like moving pieces in a well organized machine. The sound of numerous conversations and orders being shouted from left and right was only beaten out by the loud rushing water from outside, heavy drops of water hitting newly installed stain glass windows and ringing off like canons. Rain was nothing new to the occupants of Uwhen and not even the downpour outside could stop the bustling maids and the boisterous knights that littered every hall. So it was to Jungkook's surprise when he heard the noise come to a halt, turning his head to follow the direction of everyone's gaze trained on the main entrance. His eyes fell upon the distressing, albeit slightly amusing, sight of you standing drenched from head to toe, looking akin to a shaggy dog he had once seen fall into a river as a young boy.

It wasn’t your fault of course, this was your first rainy season after all. Sure there were a few cloudy days and drizzles that happened here and there but for the most part Aster was typically a sunny land with what seemed like never ending summers. So how were you expected to know that during this time storms came through quicker than the drop of a hat, nose untrained to picking up the fresh scent of lingering salty rain that was always a tell-tale sign of what was coming. And by the time you were able to feel the light drops of water landing on the top of your head it had already been too late and the next thing you knew you were trudging through thick mud, struggling to pull the train of your dress and walk with the weight of your heavy petty coat holding you down.

“Y/N!” Jungkook exclaimed and rushed over to you in only a few strides. His hands found themselves landing on your shoulders as he worriedly looked you over, eyes full of concern. He could feel you shaking under his fingertips. “What the hell happened to you, my love?”

You could only gaze up at him through wet lashes, lips set heavily in a pout. You could tell he was waiting for you to answer but you were too caught up with the fact that everyone had stopped to stare at the pair of you. Too afraid to sound like a fool, you had no intention of explaining yourself out here in the open, only letting out a small whimper as you huddled your arms close to yourself to stave off the cold. Jungkook noticed your hesitation, head whipping around to glare at the onlookers who had stopped to see what all the commotion was about. “Fucking hell- what are you all looking at!? Get back to work!”

Like a flip was switched, the noises returned and everyone went back to rushing past each other. All except your hand maiden who came running over the minute she saw a clear path over to your dripping figure. “Lady y/n! Let me get you back to your bed chambers and I’ll run you a fresh bath and get you a new pair of clothes and-”

“No need.” Jungkook had brushed past the maid, arm locked heavily around your frame as he started escorting you back to your room, not even sparing her a glance. “I can do all of that perfectly fine on my own.”

She sputtered and followed hastily behind you two, “But- but sir! Are you sure you don’t wan’t-” Jungkook's steely eyes had her mouth clamping shut and she stopped dead in her tracks. “Of course, my apologies. Please let me know if you need anything else, my lord.” She didn’t even wait for a reply before bowing and leaving in a hurry.

Jungkook merely grunted and continued walking the two of you up the staircase, your graze trained behind you as you watched your hand maiden scurry away. “You didn’t have to be so rude, you know.” You muttered, letting out a small hmph. Jungkook just gazed down at you briefly before pretending as if he didn’t hear your snarky comment. Though you swore you saw the hint of a smile twitch at the corner of his lips.

Upon arriving at the room, Jungkook had immediately pushed you into the center of the room, broad shoulders looming more than a few inches over you just an arms reach away. He sighed slowly and crossed his arms, “Take it off.”

You deadpanned, “What?” you say. You had heard what he said, but you hoped he wouldn’t say it again. That hope was mistakenly misplaced.

“I said take your clothes off. They’re soaking wet and you’ll get sick.” Jungkook said, talking as if this whole thing was just a giant nuisance. His facial expression was cold (as usual), so it was hard to really tell if he was serious or not (also very usual). “Once you undress I’ll give you a bath-”

“No no I’m fine! Haha no need for that, yup completely fine.” Your attempt at passing off the situation in an effort to avoid his offer was very unconvincing. “It’s not even that cold, I’ll dry off soon.” That was a lie. You were freezing, Jungkook could practically hear your teeth chattering as you spoke.

You were obviously uncomfortable with his request. He wasn’t mad, in fact, he completely understood. Despite being married for 3 years (most of it being spent apart except for one short night), he had only ever seen you naked once. At least in real life it was only once, his dreams were a completely different story.

Jungkook just shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, “Y/N…” he let out a sound of annoyance and took a deep breath to compose himself before dropping his hand and fixing you with a steely glare. He hated having to get stern with you. “Take.it.off.”

This time you could definitely tell he was serious and your nervous smile immediately dropped, replaced quickly by a look of defeat. You knew you had lost this time so there was no point in trying to push off the inevitable so instead you just sighed and began undoing your corset, Jungkook standing quiet as he watched. You could practically hear a pin drip, the room was so silent. It was deafening.

When Jungkook saw your fingers get to the last loop, he waited with bated breath. Finally, he thought, he really had to talk to someone about making your dresses less complicated to get off (for your convenience, of course). He watched you gulp just as the cord was set free and then stared transfixed as the material fell, pooling around your ankles. If he wasn’t already holding his breath, he would’ve choked. His dreams were doing you absolutely no justice.

By now your face was on fire, heat feeling your cheeks to the point you no longer even felt cold. And Jungkook's stare was only making it worse, your head filling with so many nervous ramblings and worries. Have I gotten fat since he last saw me? And was that stretch mark always there? Wait, when did my thighs get so big?

“I didn’t think it was possible for you to get any more gorgeous.” your breath caught in your throat. Jungkook had whispered the words completely in awe, irises finally filled with something other than stony resistance (dare you say, love?). You don’t know how, but for some reason those simple words had all your insecurities fading away, at least for the time being. Because the way he looked at you in this moment, it didn’t matter if you had gained a stretch mark or two, cause you knew he would still see you as nothing less than beautiful.

It was hard for you to say exactly how he was feeling since he didn’t say much else before turning around to head into the bathroom (presumably to run that bath that he mentioned earlier), but for someone who was a man of a few words, just one sentence could mean a thousand. And you hoped he would stay with you long enough for you to hear a thousand more.

[mythrilhusk]

!!Kill Techno-Sensei!! - Chapter One

Dream SMP x Assassination Classroom AU. Quackity-centric. No ships. 

Words: 1850 Chapter Two (Next) AO3 Version

ALL characters are based off of the Dream SMP characters, Not the content creators (some people are left out due to this, since they have no perceivable RP character). This was a lot of fun to write, and I hope y’all enjoy.

Content warnings: violence, panic attacks/anxiety, death mention, swearing (lots)

CHAPTER ONE (Kill A Little Time):

"Ten billion dollars??" Sapnap's amazed cry startles Quackity out of his tired stupor. Connor and Foolish crowd around Sapnap's desk, babbling with excitement. 

"What the fuck are you on about?" Quackity grumbles, but he can't help peeking over Sapnap's shoulder. The creased document seems to be a bunch of lousy legal drivel. 

"Big Q, the price on this guy's head! We'd be set for life!" 

Quackity makes a grabby gesture, and Sapnap gives the papers to him. His little gang of three-- (missing Karl, since the bastard had to get himself transferred to a different class)-- gathers around him as he flips through them.

That man’s face-- printed in thick, bold strokes on the third page-- clamps a vise around his throat, so tight it constricts the scream he wants to let out. He takes a deep breath. Holds it. Lets it out slowly. "This fucker??" He tosses the papers away dismissively. "He'll be dead in a day with that bounty." Foolish and Connor scramble to snatch the papers, vying for the prestige of being the first to share with the whole class. 

Sapnap, sweet Sapnap, leans over and murmurs worriedly, "You okay, Big Q?" 

"Fuck, I'm great!" Hysteria bites in Quackity's laugh. "Fucking hell, I'm- I'm- I'm abso-fucking-lutely screwed." 

"Why?" 

"Why?? That's- you know who that is!!" Quackity cries, not caring that the attention of his peers is being drawn to his outburst, like moths to fire, or like vultures to roadkill. 

"Yeah, but- yeah, he'll be dead in a day." Sapnap lets Quackity squeeze his hand. "You'll be fine. And if he dares to come anywhere near you, the Ducklings have your back." 

Quackity shudders. The thought of his friends going up against the dark shadow from his past fills him with terror. The terror fills him with helpless weakness. Which in turn feeds the vitriolic bitterness rooted deep inside his veins. "N-no, Sapnap. If he comes near, you run." 

"Who teh fock are you runnin' from? I wouldn't run. I'd stand there, and I'd fight it. I'd beat the shit outta it!" Tommy puffs his chest out as he stomps to his desk beside Quackity's, a sunny ray of cheering bravado. "All the ladies, all the ladies say, there goes a man who beats the shit outta what- whatever bothers him." 

Quackity laughs, burying the fear and acidic rage. "Aww, Big T, you'd fight a thousand armies for me?" 

"What?? No, I'd die." Tommy states.  

"You're a good man, Tomathy." 

"No man is good, Big Q. No man is good." 

The other students have all seated themselves in their assigned desks. There's a new teacher this year. Quackity wishes he'd had time to set up a few more pranks than horseradish sauce in the hand lotion dispenser and whoopee cushions on the teacher's chair. But he's not bad at improvising. 

The door opens, and the principal of the school strides in, her fluffy rainbow hair bouncing with every step. "All rise and bow for Captain Pussy!!" Tommy cries. Quackity busts a lung, he's laughing so hard. 

"T-Tommy, that's- that's not very nice, Tommy." Captain Puffy frowns, tapping her five-inch heels on the grimy linoleum. 

"Oh, right. Sorry, Captain." Tommy accepts the reproach with equanimity. "Fucking cold out, am I right, boys?" 

"And girl!!" Rose cries from the front of the class. 

"Yes, well, I was talking to mah boys." Tommy retorts with exaggerated stiffness. 

"Fucking shut up and let the goddamned principal speak!" Quackity cries upon regaining his breath from guffawing. He smiles at Sapnap. The worrywart smiles back gratefully. 

"Uh. Thank you, Quackity." Puffy sighs, looking downcast. "I'm sorry, kids. I tried to keep our school out of this. But Skeppy had- uh. The Prezz called in a few favors." 

"What's going on?" Tommy asks without raising his hand, because he's just that much of a rebel. 

Quackity's neck itches as though he's- being hunted again- no, no, that would never happen here, he's just a regular kid, in a regular school, no war criminals nearby.

But Puffy calls uncertainly to the door, "Mr. Blade?" And Quackity's heart leaps into his throat, choking him with the pounding thump-thump-thump so familiar to prey. 

"Yup." Technoblade's low, dry voice resonates through the numbly silent classroom. His shadow darkens the door. 

Quackity reaches for Sapnap's hand and squeezes tight. "No-no-no-no-" Sapnap squeezes back, fury beating in his firm pulse. Quackity takes a deep breath. Holds it. Lets it out. His friend is furious for his sake. 

Technoblade's clicking steps are the only sound in the quiet, other than Quackity's racing heartbeat. Quackity refuses to look away from Sapnap's hand, refuses to look up at the man who slaughtered his family without a single qualm. 

"I guess I'm your teacher or somethin'." A farting noise rips through the tense stillness. Quackity muffles a hysterical giggle; somebody sat on a whoopee cushion. "What a bunch of nerds." Techno's words are lightly spoken, suffocating Quackity with the terrible normalcy of it all. 

"Are you the Mr. Blade??" Of all people who could've spoken, it just has to be Tommy, doesn't it. 

"I am. Apparently." 

"Well, then. I'm going to fockin' beat the shit outta you." Tommy's voice is bright and clear, filled with brave anger. 

"K." Technoblade answers laconically, seemingly apathetic, but Quackity knows better. The fucking asshole is just restraining delight at yet another bloody massacre to feed his God with. 

"No." Quackity snarls, surprising himself with the loud intensity of his own voice. "Tommy, you're not fighting him." 

"But, Big Q-" 

"Let me handle this." Quackity flashes a grim smile to Tommy, then glares up at Captain Puffy. "Why are you letting a fucking war criminal teach highschoolers??" 

"I've renounced my violent ways, Quackity." Technoblade's calm retort chills him. "But I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for your government." Anyone else would miss the slight emphasis. Not Quackity. 

"It's not my fucking government. You killed my government, you killed them all!"

"I did what I had to do. For the greater good." 

"Um." Captain Puffy raises a hand. "Excuse me. Yes, all of you. Please calm down. We have insurance that makes it impossible for Technoblade to harm any of you-" 

"A hostage, you mean." Rage flickers beneath Technoblade's calm tone.   

A vengeful grin cracks across Quackity's dour face. "Oh... Techno, we're going to have so much fun." He dares to turn his gaze on the muzzled murderer. 

The man is smaller than he remembered. Paler. Thinner. His silky platinum hair cascades over his shoulders, braided haphazardly, with hints of pink dye streaking the tips. Technoblade doesn't smile, doesn't make any perceivable expression at all. Quackity stares him down, shooting every drop of vitriol he can muster. 

Technoblade winces, almost imperceptibly, and breaks eye contact. Battle won. A surge of euphoric power floods Quackity with confidence. "Yo, I'm going to fucking kill you." 

"You can try." Technoblade smiles. 

"You're just a human, Technoblade. Terrifying? Yeah, sure. But your days are fucking numbered and I'm the one who's going to take your goddamn life." 

"Uh, actually." Puffy interrupts again. "That's the thing." 

"What is??" 

"You're all going to have to try your best to kill him before the year is out." Puffy says in a rush.  

Quackity scoffs, but before he can say anything, Techno raises a hand. "See, there's the catch, Quackity." His form glitches. "I'm not actually a Human." 

Quackity gulps down his apprehension as the piggy monster in Technoblade's chair stares him down. "What are you, then??" 

"I dunno. Maybe I'll think of a name before my tragic end." 

Puffy sighs. "Drama kings. Okay, big guy, I'm going to, uhh, yeah, I have work to do. Y'all have fun." She leaves the stricken class with the monster. 

Technoblade scratches at the horny protusions wrapping around his head like a crown. The glowing irises inside his black sclera dance around the classroom, landing on each student before leaping away again. His pig-muzzle  wrinkles. Tusks curl out from his jaws. The blood-red cloak pinned around his shoulders hides most of his bulk. If he was scary before, he's fucking terrifying now.

"A fucking pig-man?? That's what you are??" 

"Eh." Technoblade grunts noncommittally. "You should see the other guys." 

Quackity frowns. "Why us?" 

"Huh?"

"Why does the government want us to kill you??" 

"Because I told them I wouldn't let myself be killed unless they let me teach a class." Technoblade the pig-monster smiles reminiscingly. "And then I killed my captors to prove the point. The Prezz thinks he can keep me under control because I wouldn't dare hurt a child... his words, not mine." His eyes twinkle. "I'm perfectly fine with dropkicking kids, particularly if it's in self-defense." 

Gulping, Quackity shrinks a bit in his chair. Against his will, the years-old wild laughter of the bloody former-human rings through his head once more. He'll never be rid of the ecstatic sound, never be rid of the dread that poisoned his veins as he hid while Technoblade obliterated his home. Blood for the Blood God... His breath comes short and fast. 

Sapnap squeezes his hand comfortingly. The fire blazing in his best friend's eyes tells Quackity that Sapnap won't just step aside and let Technoblade hurt him again. 

"That's focken cruel!" Tommy pipes up. "You're a focken menace, yeah. Boys, I say we take him down before anyone gets hurt." 

"You can try." 

Tommy snatches the shank slipped to him by Tubbo. "You're going down, you are!" 

Quackity stands up hastily and holds Tommy back before he can storm up to the implacable monster. "Big T, sit the fuck down, you're just going to get hurt." 

"I'll decide who gets hurt, thanks." Tommy retorts. "Techno, you're not going to hurt my friends." 

"See, Tommy, I can't really do that anyway." Technoblade growls. "But if I could, do you really think that measly pin could take me down?" 

"We'll focken see!!" Tommy rips himself from Quackity's grasp and leaps froggy-like over Hannah's desk. 

Quackity can only watch in horror as Technoblade doesn't even to bother standing up. The monster deflects Tommy's first wild slash. "Tommy, that's a piercing weapon." 

"I fuckin' know that, I'm trying to shank you with it!" 

"Tommy, you're doing it wrong." Technoblade sighs, starting to sound exasperated as Tommy fails swing after swing. 

"Tell me how to kill you, then!" 

"You can't." Technoblade spreads his arms. "Go ahead, try." 

Quackity gasps with delight as Tommy stabs the shank into Technoblade's chest. But Tommy screeches and lets go of the shank. The metal boils and melts into Technoblade's skin. 

"Wh-what the hell??" Tubbo leaps up and drags the stunned Tommy back to his desk. 

"The fuck was that??" Quackity cries, desperate to regain some semblance of control. 

"That? Merely a side effect." 

"Of what??" 

"Of being the first Mutant Earth has ever seen." Technoblade smiles unpleasantly. "And the last to ever exist. Make no mistake. If I'm not killed by this time next year, I will destroy this world."

==Please reblog and like if you enjoyed!! Thank you!!== 

Chapter Two (Next)

[solediem]

reality re-written; a collection of thoughts and happenings ( @solivaganted​ )

[  🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  ] ⠀━━   20 years in the future, reaper estate

“holly,  he’s  like forty  years  old. stan  someone  your own  age.  “

holly  sighs  heavily as  she  clips a  photocard  of the  ‘like  forty-year old’  to  her display  board.  her friend’s  opinion  was not  asked  for, and  yet  any mention  or  visual reminder  of  holly’s affinity  for  d:fi acts  as  some sort  of  invitation for  ridicule.

“  yeah,  but i’ve  been  looking for  this  photocard for  months.  it’s rare  and  i’m a  collector.  so fuck  off.”

holly  is  very organized  with  her collection  of  photocards and  albums.  albums are  displayed  on shelves  in  chronological order,  with  the packaged  photocards  pinned nearby  to  indicate the  era.  she does  her  best to  get  two copies  of  each album  –  one to  keep  intact an  one  to display  for  her own  pleasure.  sadly, each  album  only has  so  many photocards.  much  of her  collecting  is online  interactions  with sellers  willing  to part  with  pieces of  their  own collection  so  that holly  may  complete her’s.  

the  friend  sucks her  teeth  in annoyance,  mumbling  something about  knocking  her collection  over  if she  keeps  up such  a  rude demeanor.    holly  ignores her  friend  and stares  at  the photocard  that’s  completed her  most  recent collection  venture  –  clé:  levanter.

“  there  you go,  oppa  … home  with  the rest  of  your members…”

hanuel  lee  is making  a  peace sign  at  her from  his  new place  among  the other  cards.  her heart  swells  a little  with  pride.

don’t  be  so difficult  to  find next  time,  okay??

[  🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  ] ⠀━━   20 years in the future, reaper estate

“hey,  you  finished levanter!”

holly  looks  up  from  her  book  with  a  smile  and  beams  over  at  her  collection. her  father  is  standing  in  front  of  it,  arms  crossed  over  his  chest  as  his  gaze  is  caught  on  the  latest addition,

“  yup!  it  came  today.”

“this  is  really incredible,  bean.  your  dedication  is  amazing.”

“call  it  what  it  is,  dad,  obsession.”

jayce    turns  on  his  heel  to  look  at  his  daughter.  the  bright,  beaming smile  she  had  faltering  to  one  a  bit  more  sad.  shame. there’s  nothing  to  feel  shame  over.  but  one  can  only  handle so  much  mocking before  the  words  start  to  hit.  she  can  say  ‘fuck  off’  to  her  friends  a  dozen  times, put  on  a  mask  of  how  proud  and  happy  she  is  when  they’re around.  but  the  moment  she’s  behind  her  doors,  the  pain  each  comment  made  opens  new  wounds  in  her  that  have  turned this  collecting  hobby  of  hers  from  the  joyful  affair it  was  to  something  much  more  bittersweet.

“  bean…”

holly’s  smile  is  gone,  “  it’s  like  …  “  she’s  quiet  a  moment, “  jia  collects cards  and  albums too.  but  everyone she  likes  is  her  age  and  having comebacks  every  month. but  because  i…because i  like  the  groups  and  the  singers that  i  associate with  you  and  mom  and  uncle  i…somehow i’m  the  strange one.  i’m  wrong— i  have  reaper cards  too.  and  x-gene.  you  guys  did  so  much  for  music, but  i’m  not  allowed  to  look  at  that  and  admire  that  …??  why  am  i  the  strange one  ??  is  it  because we’re  related  ??  do  i  have  to  be  some  obsessive  fifteen year  old  in  her  bedroom  two  cities  away  writing  fanfiction for  this  to  be  acceptable ??"

jayce  finds  a  spot  on  holly’s  bed,  and  within seconds,  she’s  up  from  her  armchair  and  crawling  into  her  father’s lap  like  she’s  a  child  again.  he  wraps  his  arms  around her  all  the  same.

“  reese  was  here  the  other  day  while  you  were  out  with  your  friends.  “  as  if  holly  needed to  be  reminded of  who  reese  kim  was,  her  father pointed  to  the  picture  of  d:fi’s  maknae hanging  a  couple spaces  to  the  left  of  hanuel,  “  i  was  showing  him  the  studio, and  when  we  passed  your  room,  he  asked  if  he  could  see  how  your  collection was  coming.  he  stood  there  staring  at  it,  and  he  was  so  quiet. i  thought  something was  wrong,  but  then  i  saw  his  eyes.  i  think  if  he’d  been  in  there  by  himself he  might’ve  cried  a  little bit,  because  he  looked  the  way  i  did  on  reaper’s  final  tour  –  touched,  honored, amazed.  like  he  couldn’t  fathom so  much  love.  he  pulled himself  together  and  smiled  at  me.  and  he  asked  me  to  thank  you  for  remembering him  and  d:fi  like  this.

holly  presses  her  lips  together tightly  and  sniffs loudly,  desperately  trying to  not  cry.  to  know  he  understood her  and  her  intentions  brought a  sense  of  relief.  she’s  not  obsessing. she’s  not  going  overboard.  she’s  immortalizing.  remembering. letting  the  people she  grew  up  with  that  influenced  her  so  much  know  that  if  no  one  else  in  the  world  loves  them,  she  will.  if  the  world  decides  they  aren’t  worth  remembering,  she  will  remember in  spite  of  it.

they  deserve  as  much.  her  family  deserves to  be  loved  beyond  their  music  and  influence.

[  🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  ] ⠀━━   20 years in the future, reaper estate

“happy  birthday!!”

holly’s  not  to  fond  of  surprise  parties. especially  not  when  they  consist of  some  thirty people  all  gathered in  the  main  house  with  party  poppers and  horns.  she’s  practically  on  the  floor  cowering  when  her  brain  registers  that  a  mix  of  friends and  family  had  gathered  to  celebrate  her  20th  birthday.

“  oh  my  god  …  “  she  can’t  even  register  happiness. her  heart  is  to  busy  trying  escape her  chest.

“  sorry,  sweetheart. “  her  mother puts  an  arm  around  her  and  guides her  into  the  crowd,  “  are  you  okay  ??”

holly  nods,  “  you  guys  scared  me,  my  gosh  …  there’s to  many  of  us  for  it  to  be  a  surprise.  this  is  a  heart  attack party,  fucking  hell…”

jaehwa  sighs  a  bit,  “  do  me  the  favor  of  keeping your  mouth  clean  at  least  when  you’re around  me,  hm?”

“  sorry.  “

their  conversation  ends  at  the  kitchen  island where  the  family has  gathered  to  watch  her  blow  out  the  candles of  a  very  tall  cake.  holly  tucks  a  few  strands  of  hair  behind her  ears  and,  with  a  deep  breath, manages  most  of  the  candles on  her  first  go.  when  she’s  taking her  second  attempt, the  estate’s  intercom system  sounds  to  let  the  house  know  someone’s  waiting to  be  let  in.  jaehwa takes  it  upon  herself  to  let  them  and  waits  a  little bit  by  the  door  until  the  guests arrive.

holly’s  made  it  through  the  candles  and  the  cake  is  being  cut  when  she  glances up  to  see  who  her  mom  is  greeting  at  the  door.  two  towering figures  stand  over  her  with  gift  bags  in  hand  and  toothy grins  on  their  face.  they’re bowing  politely  and  holding  out  the  bags  to  holly’s beaming  mother.

“  oh  she’ll be  so  excited!! these  are  from  all  of  d:fi?  that’s so  thoughtful.  “  holly  just  barely  hears.

she’s  straining  a  bit  to  identify  the  individuals,  but  when  they  turn  to  look  at  the  commotion that  is  her  party,  her  heart  drops  into  her  stomach,  and  she’s  caught between  a  happy  smile  and  an  embarrassed one.  reese  gives  her  a  small  wave  and  a  heart  with  two  fingers while  mouthing  what  she  assumes is  ‘happy  birthday’. from  where  she  stands,  she  gives  a  small  bow.

jaehwa  is  motioning for  them  to  come  in,  but  the  other  visitor is  shaking  his  head.  holly’s half  tempted  to  break  away  from  the  party  to  go  speak  to  them  directly,  but  cake  is  being  shoved in  front  of  her,  and  friends  are  pulling  at  her  for  pictures.  before she  gives  in  to  their  pestering,  she  catches  sight  of  the  other  visitor peering  around  reese  to  catch  his  own  glimpse  of  the  party.

gaze  meets,  and  holly  feels  her  heart  (that  finally made  it’s  way  back  to  her  chest) thud  against  her  ribcage.  hanuel smiles  and  holds  up  a  peace  sign  to  her  before  giving jaehwa  another  small  bow  and  directing  reese  out  the  door.  the  next  few  minutes  are  a  bit  of  a  blur,  as  all  her  brain  can  really  focus  on  is  hanuel  greeting her.

it  shouldn’t  be  so  odd  to  her.  this  isn’t  the  first  time  she’s  met  him,  and  it  surely  won’t  be  the  last.  but  something  about  that  moment felt  so  off. like  she  was  seeing  a  hanuel  she’d  never  met  before.  a  hanuel  that’s tugged  at  her  heartstrings  with  just  a  smile  and  she  can’t  seem  to  gather  her  senses  back  up.  the  world  had  shifted  beneath her  and  she  might’ve  fallen if  she  wasn’t being  gripped  onto  by  her  friends  still  pestering  her  for  pictures.

get  it  together, holls

[  🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  ] ⠀━━   2 years ago, ‘my pace’ video set

music  video  sets  aren’t  a  new  thing  for  holly, but  that  doesn’t squash  the  rush  of  excitement that  comes  from  being  on  one.  especially considering  the  set  she’s  found  herself  on.  the  man  that  would  be  her  father  is  near  the  tech  set  up  behind the  camera,  talking to  staff  about  this  and  that,  and  holly  doesn’t care.  she’s  scanning the  tunnel  and  her  mind  is  filling in  the  blanks. in  her  mind’s eyes  she  sees  d:fi  running forward  followed  by  a  crowd  of  extras on  skates  and  scooters.  tickets are  on  the  ground  and  cameras  are  panning  around to  catch  different angles.  

it  goes  dark  suddenly,  then  a  single very  bright  spotlight is  turned  on  and  nearly blinds  her.  scaffolding are  being  moved  into  place  and  holly  realizes that the  next  part  of  filming is  a  dance  sequence.  and  judging  by  the  pink  and  purple lights  that  have  joined  the  spotlight  –  she  knows  exactly  which. and  she’s  a  little  more  giddy  than  she’d  like  to  be  showing,  but  how  else  is  she  expected  to  react  to  seeing  the  foundation  of  d:fi’s  career coming  to  life  in  front  of  her?

“  hey  –  “

holly  whips  around to  see  her  father  in  front  of  her,  looking a  bit  uneased by  the  affair that  is  a  breach  of  time  and  space.  understandable.

“hi.  hey.  sorry. i’m…”  she  stops, realizing  she  has  nothing  to  apologize  for.  jayce  just  smiles  a  bit,  his  expression  reading something  she  doesn’t quite  understand.

“you’re  in  the  middle  of  the  shot.  come  over  here.”

he  leads  her  away from the  spotlight  and  back  to  where  he’d  just  been  sitting.  from  this  perspective, holly  can  see  the  set  coming  together to  shape  the  image  she  has  in  her  mind  of  this  music  video. the  only  thing  missing  are  the  boys  –  and  as  she  waits  with  jayce  behind the  camera,  they  eventually  find  their  way  to  the  center  of  the  spotlight, stretching  and  chatting.

they  look  so  young.

even  knowing  that  age  never  really  catches up  with  these  boys,  they  look  and  feel  much  younger  than  the  polished and  perfected  senior group  she  knows  them  to  be  from  home.  they  haven’t  moved  to  their  starting  positions yet,  and  so  the  members that  would  start  in  the  back  of  the  formation are  standing  upfront and  center.  

gazes  meet.  for  him,  it’s  the  first  time.  for  her,  it’s  one  of  many.  but  just  as  on  her  birthday,  the  small  smile  and  wave  that  hanuel gives  her  sets  her  entire world  off  kilter and  she  stumbles a  bit.  her  father’s  behind her  and  catches her.  

“i’m  fine.”  she  says.  just  confused.  very  confused.

[  🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  ] ⠀━━   2 years ago, ‘my pace’ video set  

“  …  hello, there.  i  was  told  to  bring  you  this…”

the  fact  that  holly  hasn’t fallen  over  with  the  way  everything  around her  seems  to  be  shifting is  a  miracle. hanuel  is  settled in  a  seat  near  the  back  when  she  approaches him  with  a  small  tub  of  water  bottles  on  ice.  the  dancer  beams  and  takes  one,  thanking her  profusely  and  starting  up  a  conversation.

it  literally  feels  as  though the  ground  is  shifting  underneath her,  and  to  avoid  looking like  she’s  going  to  collapse, she  sets  the  water  bottles down  and  takes  her  own  seat  while  they  talk.  she’s  a  theatre  major, and  he  thinks that’s  incredible.  and  ‘jayce-hyung’  is  really  nice  to  have  let  his  ‘niece’  stop  by  the  set.

he’s  talking  so  casually.  so  sweetly.  he  seems  fully  invested,  and  every  attempt she  makes  to  break  eye  contact  with  him  fails. the  longer  the  conversation  goes  on,  the  more  holly  leans  in,  not  even  realizing  that  she’s  inching closer  and  closer to  him.  he  doesn’t  seem  to  mind  it.  in  fact,  he’s  smiling  so  much  it  seems  his  face  might  get  stuck  that  way.  his  eyes  are  lit  up  and  he’s  reaching for  conversation  topics. he  wishes  he  could  see  her  perform, because  he  bets  she’s  really good.  because  someone related  to  jayce  must  be  talented,  right?

“  hyung  !!”

reality  crashes  back  down  on  them.  the  set  comes  back  into  view  and  they  acknowledge that  there’s  more  to  existence than  just  each  other.  reese  kim  –  a  lankier, more  akward  looking version  of  him  –  is  bounding  over  and  motioning for  hanuel  to  return  to  set.

he  asks  her  to  wait  around  so  they  can  talk.  she  agrees.  the  world  is still shifting.

[  🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  ] ⠀━━   one and a half years ago, practice room  

she  can’t  stop laughing.  and  maybe it’s  because  she’s prone  to  giggle fits,  but  every word  out  of hanuel’s  mouth  makes her  laugh  harder. she’s  convinced  he’s doing  it  on purpose  now  because he’s  got  a mischievous  grin  on his  lips.

“  stop  it!! “  

he’s  not  doing anything.  it’s  not his  fault  she can’t  stop  laughing. holly  grabs  at his  arm  and takes  a  series of  deep  breaths, trying  to  calm herself  out  of her  own  hysterics. when  she  meets his  gaze  again, the  wicked  smile is  gone,  replaced with  gentle  eyes. eyes  of  admiration.

holly  wants  to  smack  him.

don’t  look  at me  like  that. don’t  give  me those  eyes.

because  he  doesn’t know  who  he’s looking  at.  he doesn’t  know  that their  time  is limited.  he  doesn’t know  the  truth. but  he’s  still leaning  into  her, and  she’s  leaning in  as  well. he  doesn’t  know that  the  next time  he  sees her  like  this, it  will  be awkward  at  best, mortifying  at  worst. but  their  foreheads are  together,  and he’s  holding  her like  she’s  suddenly the  most  precious thing  in  the world.  she  feels tears  in  her eyes,  but  keeps them  back.

she  wants  to not  kiss  him. she  wants  his lips  to  not feel  as  soft as  they  do. she  doesn’t  want her  heart  to be  soaring,  and she  doesn’t  want to  be  pulling him  closer.  the world  is  shifting beneath  her  again, but  she  feels less  shaky  in his  arms.

i  want  to stay…

[  🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  ] ⠀━━   22 years in the future, backstage

you’re impossible. my impossible girl. but you have to live your dreams, yeah? don’t…get caught here by some stupid boy. you’ve got important things to do.

“positions !!”

the audience is filing in and holly’s mind is everywhere other than it needs to be.

you’re to talented to stay here. i love you. i’ll always love you.

“holls? why are you crying?”

two years! one would think that after two years she’d be alright again, but she’s not. the anguish has eaten at her since the day she left him behind and not a damn thing she does can assuage it.

all her photocards and albums are gone. her entire collection boxed and shoved into the corner of the garage, never to be seen again. every indication of her admiration wiped away as though it never happened. and she hasn’t seen d:fi either. not a single member, since the day she came home. it’s like they don’t exist. and she supposed rightfully so. she’d stay away too if she realized. the awful position she forced hanuel into, she can’t forgive herself. she had so much time while she was there to dissuade him, to not lead him on and yet

and yet

in her selfishness she let it happen. and now that time has put itself right again, surely he’s stuck with the realization of who he’d fallen for. surely he’s avoided every event and party she’d be at for that reason.

“ i’m okay. are we ready?”

she remembers the moments fondly. when she lets herself sink into them, it’s the most right she’s ever felt. but reality always brings her back and every part of her aches. she feels weak. heavy. like she’s wrong.

but the show must go on, as they say. holly’s dedication to her ‘dream’ is the only thing that’s kept her going. without something to focus on, the sadness is too much.  the stage is waiting for her. she’s come this far. she has to do it. she has to keep going now.

[  🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  ] ⠀━━   22 years in the future, holly song’s memorial service

there  are  some  horrors  you  can’t  unsee.

there  are  some  tragedies  that  can’t  be  reframed.

there  is  nothing  that  sits  worse  on  the  hearts  of  parents  than  to  put  their  child  into  the  ground.

jayce  and  jaehwa don’t  see  anything but  her  that  day.  as  many  people surround  them,  they  perceive  no  one.  kind  words  mean  nothing.  holly  song  is  in  a  casket at  the  front  of  the  room  and  the  building is  packed  to  capacity  with  those  come  to  mourn  her.

she  was  to  young.  and  this  is  all  wrong.

her  parents  are doing  everything  in  their  power  to  hold  themselves  together as  person  after  person  comes  into  the  room  to  pay  respects. but  after  nearly an  hour  of  this,  jaehwa is  on  the  floor  letting out  cries  of  anguish  that  only  a  mother  could  make.

hanuel  is  in  the  next  room.  arms  over  his  stomach  and  head  bowed. the  sound  of  jaehwa’s  wails, however,  bring  him  to  the  ground.  he  sits  on  his  knees, doing  everything  in  his  power  to  not  be  loud  as  his  own  sobs  take  over  his  body.  he  doesn’t have  the  right  to  grieve in  such  a  way.  not  when  he  could’ve  prevented this  entirely.  but  that  truth  makes  the  pain  worse. better  to  have  loved  and  lost  than  to  have  never  loved  at  all.  such  a  sham  of  a  statement. he’s  loved  and  lost.  twice.

I  should’ve  stopped her.

[  🙤 · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·  ] ⠀━━   2 month ago, two star lobby

as  wobbly  as  she  feels, it’s  the  most  stable  she’s  felt  in  her  life.  her  mind  is  a  mess.  A  mix  of  memories  and  shifting  realities that  come  together to  form  a  jumbled  mess  of  a  new  existence. council  this,  fate  that,  reality this,  aries  that.  

she  needs  hanuel.

the  only  thing  in  her  jumbled  mind  that’s  certain is  the  necessity that  is  hanuel lee  in  her  life  again. he’s  moved  on,  she  knows  that.  she  can’t  expect him  to  be  what  he  was  before, but  for  the  love  of  everything,  he’s  the  only thing  that  makes  sense  and  the  only one  that  can  hold  her  up  while  she  gets  used  to  this  new  reality.    holly leans  against  a  column  in  the  two  star  lobby  and  slides to  the  ground, finally  giving  in ��to  the  fact  that  her  body  is  not  yet  ready  for  movement.

he  says  her  name.  he  can’t  believe what  he’s  seeing, and  he’s  in  tears  as  he  falls  next  to  her  and  wraps  her  in  his  arms.  he’s  sorry,  he’s  so  so  sorry.  he  should’ve  never  told  her  to  leave. he  should’ve  held  onto  her  and  made  her  stay  and  saved  her.  he’d  been  broken since  she  left,  the  wolf  in  him  was  dying. everything  in  him  was  dying.

holly  lets  herself fall  into  him.

“  nothing  was  right…”

he  agrees.  he’s  never  letting her  go  again. he’s  her’s  forever.   there’s  much  to  talk  about  and  understand. but  hanuel  can  see  the  state  she’s  in.  he  doesn’t  say  anything  but  kind  and  loving  words  to  her.  a  hand  gently  strokes her  head.  everything is  right.  he  knows  exactly who  he’s  looking at,  and  he  knows  that  time  isn’t  limited  for  them.  

the  world  isn’t  shifting  anymore.

[ghstandpucks]

Misguided Ghost Ch.3

A.N.: Thanks for reading! I hope you all are enjoying it! 

Up To The Challenge

           I woke up Thursday morning feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiousness. I curled my hair and did my makeup. My make up never takes long, as I tend to keep it very natural. The most I really do is eye liner and mascara to make my brown eyes stand out a bit more. I got dressed in a knee length yellow dress that had little white flowers on it. After slipping on my sandals and my jean jacket, I went downstairs and made myself a smoothie. After packing a small lunch, I grabbed my purse and headed out to the office. As I was in the elevator, I fixed my hair and took a deep breath. This is it Mia, I told myself. Don’t screw this up!

           I stepped out of the elevator to the 5th floor and opened the door. Upon hearing the bell go off, a bald head popped out of an office space. “Told you I would be seeing you soon” he grinned. I nodded with a smile and walked over to him. “What’s in the cup. Since I know it is probably not coffee?” Aaron asked.

“A peach and blueberry smoothie with kale and orange juice.” I replied while Aaron made a face.

           “Are you one of those health nuts?” He asked. I laughed and shook my head.

           “No, I just don’t really like eating when I get up in the morning, so smoothies are my go-to. The kale just makes it more filling in my opinion.” I said, then looked around. “Where am I supposed to go?” I said in a lower voice, unsure of what I was supposed to be doing at the moment. I figured Aaron could tell me, and at least he seemed to like me thus far.

           “I’ll take you to Zak and he’ll let you know what you’re going to be doing.” He smiled down at me then turned to start walking to the office I had previously been in a few days ago. As we walked, we passed by Nick’s space. “Y/N is here!” Aaron said. I looked over at Nick and he smiled at me as well.

           “Congratulations and welcome!” He said. I thanked him as he returned to his work.

           “Zak. Our expert historian is here!” Aaron called out as he entered Zak’s office. Zak looked up from his laptop and I met his green eyes. They were stunning. I smiled at him, hoping I was not blushing. He smiled back, and nodded.

           “Thanks Aaron,” he said, shifting his gaze to the man beside me. He stood up and motioned for me to follow him. Across the hallway there was another open space with a nice desk and chair inside. There was some video equipment in the corner and a 3-tier book shelf. I looked at Zak expectantly.  “This will be your new office space. Fill free to decorate and what not. The cameras in the corner will have to stay there for now until we find another space to put them. We have a lot of equipment as you can probably imagine.” I nodded my head and put my smoothie down on the desk.

           “I’m sure. This is great, thank you.” I said quietly. I was getting nervous around him but I couldn’t pinpoint why. Sure I found him attractive, but he was my new boss. I shouldn’t be nervous cause nothing would come out of it, right?

           “Did you bring your own laptop to research with or should we get you set up with one?” He asked.

           “I brought my own. I wasn’t sure what to expect so I thought I’d better come prepared.” Zak nodded and motioned for me to sit down at the desk. He pulled up a chair from around the corner and sat across from me. I felt a bit more comfortable now that I was the one behind the desk.

           “Ok so basically, you will be researching the places we are considering for investigations. Some investigations we take on right away, others we need a bit more background done on them to make sure they’re viable sources that we should investigate. I have a running list that I will email over to you. Billy set up an email for you last night by the way. I will get you all the log in information in a bit.” Zak spoke.

           “That was kind of him. What sort of history do I need to be researching? Just the basic, overall history or the hauntings?” I questioned, not entirely sure exactly what he wanted from me. Zak grinned and leaned forward slightly.

           “Both. I know it may seem like a lot but I will need you to look up the overall history, as well as the history behind the hauntings. Try to find the ugly truth about the places that tour guides don’t always want to share. Think you can handle that?” he smirked. I raised an eyebrow.

           “Why wouldn’t I be able to?” I asked, a bit frustrated that he thought maybe I couldn’t do the thing he just hired me to do. He leaned back and eyed me.

           “Just asking. Like I said before, you have all the qualifications. You are just different from what I thought we would hire though. You seem too bright for all the darkness we chase.” He said matter of fact.

           “What are you saying? I’m like Elle Woods when she gets to law school?” He chuckled at that. “Mr. Bagans, I can assure you that I can handle researching all the history you need me to. You want to know every little dirt secret about a place, I can find it. I wrote my whole master’s thesis on the speakeasies of the 1920’s and how the mob operated. I can get you the ‘ugly truth’ as you put it.” I dropped my smile and stared back at him, challenging him silently to judge me again.

           “Ok, that sounds like pretty cool research. You may not be that bad.” He stood up and walked out. I grabbed my laptop and turned it on as he came back and handed me a piece of paper with the wi-fi and my log in information on it. “And another thing,” he said “don’t call me Mr. Bagans.” He smirked and walked out of my office.

           “Thanks for the information!” I called after him. I logged on and saw the email already there with a list of places to research. I took out my notepad and a pin and got to work.

~ ~ ~

           I worked through lunch, trying to dig up everything I could on the list of places Zak had sent me. I was trying to get everything and anything I could. “Why is this list so damn long!” I whispered and threw my pen down on my note pad, running my hands through my hair.

           “You ok there?” I looked up and saw Aaron peaking in. I looked behind him to see that Zak thankfully was not in his office.

           “There’s so many places on this list! How am I supposed to get to all of them today?” I whisper yelled. Aaron came over and looked at my laptop, then at my notebook.

           “You know, you’ve actually gotten more information in the past hours then we usually do in a few days? Didn’t Zak tell you this was a running list of places? We just keep adding.” He stated. I looked at him with wide eyes.

           “He did… I just forgot until you said it,” I looked back at my notes. “I got nervous.”

           “Ohh, does Zak make you nervous?” He teased.

           “No! Shut up dude. I just don’t want to be terrible. I don’t think he thinks I can do this.”

           “He does. He was the first one to say we should hire you.” He stated matter of fact. I looked at him in disbelief.  

           “Hey Aaron, stop flirting and get over here.” Zak said walking back into his office.

           “Not flirting bro, I’m deciding to adopt her.” Now I looked up at him confused.

           “You’re not that much older than me.”

           “As a little sister. Yup! Do you have an older brother?” I shook my head no. “Well now you have one!” Aaron declared as he started to walk toward the door. I laughed and I saw Zak smile down at his desk.

           At the end of the day I had gotten through about 4 locations. I had articles printed with main points highlighted, and notes written for each one. I gathered everything together and walked across the hall. I knocked on the door frame and smiled as Zak looked up at me. “I have some information I thought you would want to see,” I walked over to him and set the papers on his desk.

           “How many did get through?” He asked, shifting through the papers.

           “4. I hope that’s alright. I wasn’t sure how many a day you guys go through.” I answered nervously. Zak chuckled.

           “This is good Y/N, more than we usually do in a day. Thanks,” he smiled that charming smile at me. Nope, did not just think that. I smiled, hoping I wasn’t blushing too much.

           “No problem. I’m going to take off for the day.”

           “Wait, I’m finishing up. I’ll walk out with you.” I nodded and walked back to my office, putting everything away and gathering my things. When I looked back up, Zak was leaning in the doorway. “Ready?” We walked out together in an awkward quiet. Apparently neither of us really knew what to say to the other.

           “So,” I broke the silence while we were in the elevator. “Was Aaron serious about being my big brother?” I decided that was a neutral topic. Zak chuckled.

           “Ya. He tends to do that. He’s kind of just a big kid at times. He means well though if it freaked you out.”

           “Oh not at all! I don’t mind. I think it’s nice of him, makes me feel more comfortable. You know, first day jitters and all,” I replied. We stepped out of the elevator and headed out of the building.

           “Ya, look Y/N. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable earlier, or made it seem like I doubted you,” He looked down at me as we approached my car.

           “It’s fine. I know I’m new and you guys seem pretty tight knit.” I smiled up at him. He smiled softly back.

           “We are, but you are now apart of that. I do think that you will do well here. I wouldn’t have offered you the job if I thought you would be a flop.” He stated. I nodded,

           “Well thank you. I appreciate it. Have a good evening Zak.” I waved and unlocked my car as he began to walk away.

           “See you tomorrow Y/N.” He said. I got in my car and began to drive home. Maybe this will go well after all.    

[shipaholic]

Omens Universe, Chapter 13 Part 2

Nearly made it to Alpha Centauri!

Warnings for this chapter: the terrifying vastness of space; vertigo; and more child endangerment than we’ve seen so far.

Link to next part at the end.

(From the beginning)

(last part)

(chrono)

---

Chapter 13, cont.

Of all the infinite spaces they’d found themselves in recently, this one truly made each of them feel small.

Nebulae crackled in the corner of their eyes. Comets sparked across the heavens like distant fireworks. There were stars, billions upon billions of stars, a riotous tumble of them. And planets, cold and grand, passing by like ships.

Aziraphale had never been here before. For the life of him, he had no idea why. No - perhaps he was afraid of the vastness. Of feeling engulfed.

He leaned, half-consciously, towards Crowley. Their fingers brushed. Slowly, as if moving underwater, Crowley gripped Aziraphale’s hand.

Aziraphale tore his eyes away from the magnitude of space and looked at Crowley. He was in profile, lips slightly parted. His eyes shone with starlight. Aziraphale wanted to kiss him and keep watching him forever. He remembered Crowley had probably seen this room before. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of years in the past. Perhaps it hit him harder to come back than Aziraphale to see it for the first time.

“Did I ever mention I helped build some of these?” Crowley whispered.

“Yes, dear,” Aziraphale whispered back. His heart brimmed over.

He happened to know the only part of Her creation missing from this room was the Earth. That was because it was on the top floor. He saw it the last time he presented his weekly report to Gabriel, floating in the air like a large, sedate disco ball. They would all use it in three days' time to transport themselves to Earth for Armageddon. Every angel in Christendom, pouring out of the sky.

Aziraphale peered around. There didn’t seem to be much of a filing system in here. Maybe all he had to do was…

“Alpha Centauri?” he said.

It was like going for a gentle stroll and accidentally stepping off a skyscraper.

Space lurched. The detritus of the universe streaked towards him, and past him before he could think about screaming. Two blue dots came out of the darkness like all-knowing eyes that meant the end of all things. They expanded until they were the size of suns, filling his vision, pinning him under their gaze, until with a heart-stopping wrench -

It all stopped.

Space was still again. The binary star system of Alpha Centauri lay before them, winking blue.

Aziraphale shook off the feeling he’d just freefall dived from a million miles up. He glimpsed Crowley’s face, and got a sudden idea of what it must have felt like for him, before all this happened. The Fall. He squeezed Crowley’s hand. Crowley’s eyes were glazed. Slowly, he came back to himself and squeezed back.

Aziraphale remembered, a fraction later than he should have, to check on Adam.

The boy’s face was white with exhilaration. “Wicked,” he whispered to himself.

Spacedog yipped and scratched his flank with his cybernetic back leg. His ears jiggled inside his fishbowl helmet. He didn’t look impressed. Aziraphale supposed he was made for this environment. Then he went back to deliberately ignoring Spacedog, because while Spacedog’s existence was remarkable, Aziraphale found him far too ridiculous to dwell on.

“We want Proxima Centauri B,” he said.

This time they all braced themselves. There was a relatively short, painless lurch forward as the room zoomed in on the planet orbiting one sun, Proxima Centauri. The planet was pockmarked like porous stone. It turned ponderously in the light from its star.

“Oh!” Crowley leaned forward in wonder. He pointed down at the craggy little planet. “I remember this! This one was one of mine.”

Aziraphale watched him puff out his chest and smiled.

“Yup. I totally helped with this one. Well. I looked over the plans. Well. I graffitied a rude word in some space dust.” Crowley paused. “They probably took it out.”

“How lovely,” Aziraphale said, dryly.

This was it. Triumph rang through his head. He was about to become an outer space fugitive. He couldn’t believe they’d got this far. There was only one step left, and they were home free. Or… not home. Not yet. But definitely free.

“Crowley, do you trust me?”

Crowley’s head snapped round. “That’s a funny question at this stage,” he said, sounding perturbed.

“Sorry. I need to be sure, though, or this next part won’t work.”

Crowley’s golden eyes regarded him.

“I trust you, angel.”

Aziraphale turned to face him. Crowley did the same, mirroring him. Aziraphale caught his other hand, holding them both, bare and gloved.

“Fuse with me.”

Relief lifted Crowley’s face.

“Oh, thank Satan. I was worried for a moment.”

Aziraphale gave a chuckle. “Sorry for being dramatic. I wasn’t -”

He broke off. He hadn’t been sure. If Crowley had truly forgiven him, yet. It would be understandable if he needed more time.

Apparently not. Crowley was attempting to loosen up in the receptionist’s tailored trousers. He stretched his inhumanly bendy spine, wiggled his snaky hips. It would have been rather alluring if Crowley wasn’t, as Aziraphale well knew, an awful dancer. It still was quite alluring, actually.

“Remember how to do this?” Crowley grinned.

“Of course. Like riding a velocipede.”

Crowley groaned and laughed. He began… a kind of shimmy, Aziraphale supposed. It was very wriggly. It had a slight drunk-wedding-guest-cum-gay-bar aspect, not that he’d been to a wedding or a gay bar in over eighty years.

Now that push came to shove, he felt rather foolish doing this in front of an audience. He avoided looking anywhere near Adam and broke into a modified Gavotte.

They danced towards each other. They were taking it slower than the urgency of the situation asked for, if he was being honest. But it was thrilling, the build up without touching, the coy flashes of eye contact. Aziraphale felt Crowley’s body heat through his silk blouse. Crowley’s long, skinny chest wiggled inches away from him. His gem glowed softly, like it was warming up.

Aziraphale clasped his arm, and his own gem flared.

They melted together.

Zadkiel stumbled out, wide-eyed and flushed.

“Wow. I need to get a room.”

He noticed Adam.

“Ummmm. Hello there. We’ve sort-of met, sort-of haven’t. I’m Zadkiel.” He held out his hand.

Adam glared as he took it. Some weird grown-up stuff had just happened, and he was ready to zip away from it at the speed of light.

“They just… turned into you,” he said.

“Yup.”

“They’re really bad dancers.”

“So am I!”

“Right. Why’d they do that, then?”

“Well… they’ve been apart for a while, and while they’re not human, as you know, er, I know for your species the whole dancing thing can be something of a mating ritual… has anyone ever given you the Talk?”

Adam looked deeply disgusted.

“Why’d they turn into you?” he asked, in slow, measured tones.

“Oh! So they can’t track us.” Zadkiel flashed a grin. “The people we’re running away from can tell whenever Aziraphale or Crowley use their powers - their alien powers, that is - but I don’t show up on their, errr, alien scanner things. So they can’t follow us to Proxima Centauri.”

This was going to require a lot of discipline, he realised. If they wanted to be good intergalactic space fugitives - and Zadkiel absolutely did - there would have to be no more performing of miracles unless fused from now on. One thoughtless snap of the fingers from either of them, and it would all be over. Zadkiel hoped the other two were up to it.

He squared up to the orbiting planet below.

“Enough explanation. It’s time to go. Are you ready?”

Adam nodded. The blue lights of Alpha Centauri shone in his eyes.

“Brilliant. Hold on to my arm and don’t let go no matter what.”

Adam scooped up Spacedog,[1] along with the Book, and looped his spare arm through Zadkiel’s. He may have shown up unexpectedly, but he was a reassuringly large presence.

Zadkiel performed the ritual on himself and Adam. Nobody needed to leave their gems behind accidentally at this stage. He guessed it would be messy in Adam’s case.

“Here we go -”

Zadkiel reached out.

His fingertips dissolved as they neared the planet. Then his whole body melted into a stream of atoms, and this really was a freefall, dimensions compressing around him, his body stretching back miles, stars streaking across his vision. He was made of mist and he was rushing through a cold tunnel faster than any living thing had ever moved

~*~

They popped out at the other end, mouths agape like fish.

The first thing was the silence.

It was crushing and absolute. It was the silence of a void. A sea of darkness full of pinpricks of light that only made the darkness more infinite. He remembered, from two different perspectives, rowing across a lake that had been like this.

Then, the planet.

It spread out below him. A hard, mountainous, canyon-pocked waste-scape. He could see where it curved, the crescent of light like the rind of an orange. He could see the shimmering corona of its atmosphere. He could see the granite and sandstone and marsh-coloured patches of its body, all merging like a paintbox left out in the rain.

He had never seen anything like it. A new world. Untouched. Alien.

He had to admit it was a cracking view.

Adam’s fingers dug into his arm. The green dog yipped at a hysterical pitch.

Zadkiel looked down at the boy and noticed the third thing.

Adam gasped for breath that wouldn’t come. He stared into Zadkiel’s eyes, terrified, as his lips turned blue.

---

[1] Neither of Zadkiel’s components knew what to make of the dog. They’d each secretly hoped that fusing would bring some wisdom on the subject. Zadkiel was happy to report: nope. The dog thing was really weird.

(Link to next part)

[mxstyassasxin]

Day 16 for my 24th

Inspired by Little Mix’s Wings. Draco is drowning his sorrows at the Leaky when Potter comes meddling but leaves him with some much needed words of wisdom. Drinking and mentions of abuse. Also on AO3 and FFN. 

Wings

Draco scowled into the amber liquid of what was already his fifth firewhisky of the afternoon. He was lucky that he’d waited until after lunch to argue with Adam, because he’d been able to apparate straight to the Leaky and proceed to drink his sorrows away undisturbed.

Hannah had looked surprised to see him there in the middle of the afternoon, alone, and had initially tried to get him talking, but gave up when she realised that he was just going to stare into his drink until he could see the bottom of the glass. Every time he could, he just asked for another drink and repeated the process all over again. He couldn’t allow himself to stare at the wooden bar too long through the bottom of an empty glass without thinking about the hard eyes he’d had to put up with for the past three years, hard, brown eyes which he’d once thought were assertive and ridiculously sexy.

The appeal had disappeared once that assertiveness started showing itself in all the wrong things, at all the wrong moments, becoming too domineering.

Growling at a sudden, unbidden thought about what Adam would say about how much he was currently drinking, Draco downed what was left in his current glass and pushed it towards Hannah.

“Another,” he slurred loudly. “Another glass, Hannah.”

“Draco Malfoy,” she looked at him sternly. “I know for a fact you were raised better than that.” She stood behind the bar, a striped tea towel slung over her shoulder and her hands on the curve of her hips. He’d have preferred if those hands were already reaching for the bottle of Ogdens on the shelf behind her.

“Hannah, please, just keep filling the glass up,” he met her eyes with a glare, softening a bit when she just glared back. “Please. It’s over.”

“Well, good,” she smiled, her hands leaving her hips. “But that’s no reason to be drinking yourself into oblivion.”

Draco scoffed. “No, I suppose not. But what he did that made me finally see sense is.” He reached his hand out waiting for her to place the refilled glass back in his grasp.

“Ah. Well he was a dick anyway. Looked down his nose more than you did.”

He snorted at that, which made him cough and splutter. “Merlin, Abbott. Say what you mean why don’t you.”

“Gladly.” She leaned her elbows on the bar so she was looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not facilitating the drowning of your sorrows. This should be a happy occasion.”

“In that case,” he grew close to snarling at her, “I’m celebrating.” He took Hannah by surprise and launched across the bar separating them in an attempt to grab the bottle he had his eye on.

“Draco! What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing? Do you want me to chuck you out?” She had pushed him back onto his stool which wobbled precariously, Draco’s heart pounding as he scrabbled to keep hold of the bar.

“Do you need a hand here, Hannah?”

Draco groaned upon hearing the smooth, low voice that sounded from behind him.

“It’s alright, Harry. We’re fine, aren’t we Draco?” She said his name pointedly, but he ignored the question.

“Get lost, Potter,” he muttered without looking towards the saviour-turned-auror.

He had no such luck though, because the scarlet-clad annoyance took an uninvited seat on the stool next to him. Draco turned surreptitiously to glare at Potter, but the glare turned slightly wide-eyed. Salazar, the man cut a fine figure in those robes. He must be drunker than he’d thought. Mind you, he’d not drunk more than one glass in a single sitting since Adam had got short with him for it over two years ago.

“How many’s he on, Hannah?” the green-eyed devil asked.

“He’s after his sixth.”

“Christ, Malfoy. How have you got like this after five glasses? Didn’t peg you as a lightweight.”

“Only since that twat stopped me drinking. Forgot how much I liked it,” he moaned, dropping his head onto the bar.

“Bloody hell,” he heard Potter mutter. Then, “give him the sixth, Hannah, my responsibility. I’ll have one, too.”

“Not on duty, Mr Auror, Sir?” Draco murmured into the bar, eliciting a deep chuckle from his companion.

“No, I was just here to floo home after patrol.”

“Then bugger off then.”

“And leave you like this? I don’t think that’ll be good for anyone, Malfoy.”

Draco felt a glass knock into his knuckles and raised his head to smile at Hannah.

“Don’t make me regret it, Malfoy,” she said sternly before moving to serve her other customers.

“So,” said Potter, “who’s the twat?”

“Adam. You’ll hear all about it in the Prophet tomorrow, although I’ll probably be the twat then.”

“Yes, well, that’ll happen if you end things with a seemingly untouchable Quidditch star.”

Draco sat up straight, ready to give Potter a piece of his mind, but stopped with the words on the tip of his tongue when he saw the look of understanding on Potter’s face.

“Ah. Of course. Ginevra.”

Potter chuckled. “Yup. Even I couldn’t get away with it. What did yours do?”

“Said something one time too many.” Draco looked down into his fresh glass of whisky before taking a large sip. When he looked up again, Potter was still looking at him, waiting.

Draco sighed. “He called me a…he said…” He had to close his eyes a second and take a deep breath before continuing in a rush. “Apparently nowhere will hire a good-for-nothing Death Eater.”

He opened his eyes and looked directly into Potter’s which looked surprisingly angry. He knew his own must look pitiful. Potter blinked a few times, his suddenly tense shoulders moving with ragged breaths as the anger in his eyes dissipated.

A tanned hand reached out to lay lightly over Draco’s left forearm, but he flinched back from the touch.

“Don’t,” he warned, face screwing up in pain. Potter’s face screwing up in confusion.

“Why does that physically hurt you?”

Draco cradled his arm in his lap, hoping to remove it from Potter’s reach, but again, he was never lucky when it came to the boy-who-lived-twice.

“I said don’t, please,” he whimpered as Potter grasped his hand and lifted his arm, unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt and rolling the sleeve back to reveal the bruise purpling over his redundant Dark Mark.

“He did this?” Potter asked unnecessarily. Draco looked away from it, already knowing what Potter was seeing. A large, plum handprint curling around his forearm and squeezing tightly.

Thankfully, Potter corrected his sleeve for him then they both drank deeply.

“He had said it before, every time I mentioned getting a job. But this time it was something I really wanted to do, was really excited about. I’ve been a bit of a potions hobbyist and wanted to go for an opening at St Mungo’s. Prepared a portfolio and everything, full of what I’d been creating, all the healing potions. I made the mistake of showing him it, how proud I was of it, of wanting to do something good.” Draco stopped and took a long sip again, feeling Potter’s gaze on him. He turned to meet those piercing eyes.

“He threw it in the fire, all of it. Held me like that to get it off me then squeezed tighter when he said that nowhere would employ someone like me.”

��You left?”

Draco nodded. “Packed my bags as soon as he left the flat and sent them to the Manor.”

“Good,” Potter said, grasping his hand again and Draco looked shocked at the tanned fingers wrapped around pale. “You are Draco Malfoy. You once made me believe you were a Dementor. Made those damn pins in fourth year. You can do anything you want to put your mind to. You even defied Voldemort.”

Potter was smirking at him, actually smirking. It was such a bizarre sight that Draco started laughing.

“I’m serious, Malfoy. You’re putting that portfolio together again even if I have to help you.”

That just made Draco laugh even harder, clutching his stomach. “You? Help me with a Potions portfolio. Didn’t think you were that daft, Potter.”

Draco felt his hand being tugged at lightly and it slowly got him to calm down. Potter was still looking at him, waiting for the laughter to subside.

“You mean it don’t you?” he realised.

Potter nodded. “This,” he said, shaking Draco’s arm slightly, “is not who you are now. It’s not even who you were, not really. Don’t let it stop you from what you want to do. And never let anyone tell you that it will.”

Draco swallowed the emotion that was rising in his throat as he stared into those intense eyes.

“You hear me, Malfoy?”

“I hear you.”

[filmfanatic82]

AO3 Link (HERE)

Chapter 13: Somewhere Between Lovers and Just Friends

Holy shit.

No. Scratch that. There are no words…

At least no words that Trini’s brain can coherently string together at the moment. How the hell can she? The ability the articulate her thoughts went right out the window around the same time that Kim’s lips trailed their way down past the waistband of her boxer briefs.

“Fuck,” Kim screams out at the top of her lungs. She cascades over the edge for the fourth time in an hour with her body entirely giving in to the orgasm. Trini continues to pump her fingers allowing Kim to ride the wave of aftershock after aftershock. It’s raw with primal undertones of insatiable hunger that has gone too long without being fed.

At first, though, it had been different. Hesitant and timid. Filled with awkward pauses and clumsy moments as they tried to relearn each other’s bodies.

Kim had made the first definitive move by picking Trini up with one arm and wiping the bar clear with the other. There had been a loud chorus of glasses shattering, but Trini was too preoccupied with Kim’s lips to check the damage. Before she knew it, she was being lowered down onto the top of the bar, and Kim was crawling her way up her body, leaving a path of kisses in her wake. All clothing seemed to magically disappear in the haze of hands and mouths mapping skin.

And suddenly, there was no more hiding. No secrets left to cover up.

It was just them. Trini and Kim. Vulnerable and bare.

All it had taken was one swipe from Kim’s tongue against Trini’s core for her to melt into a pile of conflicting emotions. Heartache. Anger. Desire. Joy. Each emotion hit one after another as Trini felt her body race towards the point of no return. By the time she came, two trails of tears had snaked their way down her cheeks.

Unlike before, though, they weren't fueled solely by pain. But Kim kissed them away nonetheless.

No. They had been a release. One that Trini hadn't known she had been holding onto ever since the moment that Kim had left.

After the first orgasm, all the awkwardness was gone. The gloves were off, and Trini and Kim proceeded to take turns pushing each other bodies to the limit, rebranding once familiar landmarks with an array of teeth and nails.

Again. And again. Until every inch of their bodies screamed out in complete and utter exhaustion.

Trini locks eyes with the goddess that is Kimberly Hart and struggles to bite back a euphoric grin.

The way the beads of sweat glisten around the edges of her face…

How the lights of the bar dance in her chocolate brown abysses…

The hint of a smirk upon her lips...

God, Trini can’t get enough.

Kimberly freakin’ Hart.

Her own personal aphrodisiac.

“Hey.” Kim reaches up and places her hand against Trini’s cheek. “You okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that, Princess?” Trini replies with a smile.

Kim lets a light chuckle slip out as she runs her hand through Trini’s short, messy locks. “God, I forgot how good you look like this.”

“Just like this?” Trini raises an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Without any warning, Kim flips them over, and Trini finds herself once again pinned down against the bar by the only woman she's ever truly loved. “Exactly like this.”

Kim punctuates her point with a short searing kiss, grabbing hold of Trini’s bottom lip with her teeth as she pulls away.

Not able to hold back, Trini lets out a much-needed moan of pleasure. “Jesus Hart. You’re gonna kill me.”

“Sorry,” Kim replies. “I can't help myself. I might've been fantasizing about this for a while now.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Kim whispers into Trini’s ear causing an instantaneous shock of chills to radiate down the Latina’s spine.

“How long?” Trini manages to say, fighting to keep her composure.

“Too long.” Kim marks yet another path down the slope of Trini’s neck, making sure to pay extra attention to her pulse point. Trini throws her head back against the bar stretching her neck out in the process, giving the raven-haired girl more runway to work with. She glances upwards, unable to pull her eyes away from the goddess hovering before her and then suddenly spots--

The diamond.

It sparkles in the dim lights of the bar, a silent yet a constant reminder of the sheer complexity of their situation.

Kimberly Hart has a boyfriend.

No. Scratch that. A fiancé.

She isn’t available for the taking.

And this…

This doesn’t mean--

“T?” Kim asks. Her eyes follow the invisible path of Trini’s gaze and land directly on her engagement ring. The smile melts right off of her face. “Oh.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have--”

“Don’t apologize.” Kim rolls over the side of Trini and props herself up with her elbow. “It’s… It’s just complicated.”

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of them as Trini watches Kim play with the diamond on her finger. The ring rotates around and around, slow and methodical, periodically catching a stray beam of light. Trini can’t help but notice the stark differences in comparison to the ring that’s currently tucked away in a random shoebox in the dark recesses of her bedroom closet. Different cut… Different size… Even a different metal.

Nothing about the ring seems to fit with the woman whose finger it’s on.

“Do you love him?” Trini can’t stop the words from falling out of her mouth and cringes with instant regret.

“No,” Kim replies without any hesitation whatsoever. “Not like I love you.”

“Then why…”

“Why did I say yes?”

Trini nods in response suddenly unable to find her voice.

Kim lets out a long sigh. “Do you know that I was at Jason and Billy’s wedding?”

“What??” Trini blurts out in total shock. She pushes herself up onto her elbows as her eyes search over Kim’s face for any inkling of a lie. But all that’s stares back is the unwavering truth.

“Yeah. It was sort of a last minute thing. Jason showed up one day at my shop a few weeks before his wedding and all but begged me to come. At first, I didn’t think I would go, but changed my mind at the last minute.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t see you,” Trini responds.

“I know,” Kim says with a bittersweet smile. “But I saw you.”

Kim once again reaches out and runs her hand through Trini’s short locks. Trini’s stress dissolves with the simple touch, momentarily causing her to forget the root of their conversation.

“You had on this gorgeous heather gray suit with a pale yellow tie and matching pocket square… And you had slicked back your hair. I think into a tight bun or something… You looked phenomenal.”

Trini lets a light laugh slip out as a flood of memories wash over her, bathing her in a once forgotten warmth.

That suit.

The one that Frank had gotten specially made for Trini for the Angel Grove Gala.

The one that could cause Kimberly to go weak in the knees at the mere sight of it.

Trini always has wondered why Jason suggested that she wear it to his wedding.

“Fuckin’ Jason,” Trini mutters under her breath.

“What?” Kim asks.

“You don’t remember?”

“I…” Kim trails off as a look of sudden realization crosses her face. “Wait. That’s the suit. The one, my dad, got you for the Angel Grove Gala.”

“Yup. That’s the one,” Trini responds with a hint of a smirk.

“Damn. I knew it looked familiar. I mean I couldn’t put my finger on it at the time, but… God, I loved that suit on you.”

“And Jason knew that too. He’s the one that suggested that I wear it.”

“Ah…”

“Yeah,” Trini says shifting her weight once again to move a bit closer to Kim. “I’m gonna kill him.”

“Don’t. He meant well… He really did, but--”

“But?” Trini askes.

“But he didn’t take into account the rest. That maybe me seeing you there… with someone else… It would make me realize that it was time for me to move on,” Kim replies holding back her emotions.

The words sit between them, heavy and suffocating, silently playing on a loop in the depth of Trini’s mind.

Ruby.

Trini’s date to Jason and Billy’s wedding.

The girl that had gotten the closest to breaking through Trini’s rock hard armor.

“Kim, I--”

“Don’t you dare think of apologizing yet again.” Kim ever so gently caresses Trini’s cheek as a softness settles within her chocolate brown eyes. “You had every right to date whoever… Especially after what I did.”

“I know, but she didn't mean anything to--”

“I said yes to Richard because I thought it would help me move on.”

“Did it?” Trini asks before she can second guess the question.

Kim doesn’t respond. She doesn’t need to. They both already know the answer. It’s written all over every single inch of Kim’s face.

Without another moment’s hesitation, Kim rolls back on top of Trini, pinning her down against the bar with one hand, while the other traces the edges of her body at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Trini sucks in a long gasp of air as her core re-ignites with a burning desire of what’s to come. She leans into Kim’s touch, body automatically answering and all she can think of is just how utterly breathtaking the moment is.

“Tell me what you want,” Kim husks into the crook of Trini’s neck as she lavishes it with a series of interchangeable bites and kisses.

“Mierda,” Trini exhales. She feels Kim’s hand dip lower, drawing playful circles on the sensitive patch of skin right above her center. It’s a tease. One that Trini knows too well.

“You need to be more specific.”

“I need you to--”

BANG.

Jason materializes out of thin air in the dead center of the room instantly causing Kim to collapse herself on Trini, in a feeble attempt to hide their lack of clothing.  

“Fuck!” Jason exclaims.

“Jesus, Scott!” Trini fires back, throwing him a more than noticeable eye roll. “Ever heard of a warning?”

“Fuck. Sorry. Billy got the teleporter working, and we could sense you were trapped and… Fuck. I really didn’t mean to… Is that a Sabertooth Tiger on your back?”

Kim whips her head around and glances behind at her left shoulder. There, just beneath her shoulder blade, sits a detailed looking black and white Sabertooth Tiger that bears a striking resemblance to that of Trini’s Zord. “Uh… yeah. It is.”

“Impressive,” Jason responds, continuing to stare at Trini and Kim.

“Jason!” Trini yells as him, practically breathing fire.

“Shit… Right.” Jason turns around and shields his eyes.

Kim plants a light kiss on Trini’s lips and then pushes herself up off of the bar and goes about gathering her clothes. Trini slides down as well and instantly finds her eyes drawn to the intricate tattoo that resides on Kim’s back. She had briefly noticed it in the frenzy of clothes being ripped off of bodies, but up until this point, hasn’t had a chance to thoroughly study it. The tattoo is hauntingly beautiful, complimenting the natural slope of Kim’s muscles and true to Jason’s comment, is impressive in every sense of the word.

Kimberly Hart has a tattoo…

Sabertooth Tiger tattoo…

Her Sabertooth Tiger…

God, it’s hot.

No. Scratch that. It’s beyond hot. It’s--

“See something you like?” A playful smirk slides across Kim’s lips. She finishes clasping her bra and then slips her shirt over her head.

“Nice ink,” Trini replies as she pulls up her boxer briefs.

“Had a hunch you might appreciate it.”

“Good hunch.” Trini buttons her jeans, matching Kim’s smirk.

“Ahem… Still here,” Jason pipes up. He gives a wave with his free hand while keeping the other firmly planted over his eyes.

“It’s okay. You can look now,” Kim says as she finishes adjusting her clothes. She takes a seat at a nearby table with both Jason and Trini following her lead.

“Like the hair.” Jason motions with a simple head nod to Trini’s hair, causing Trini to self-consciously reach up and run her hands through it.

“Thanks,” Trini sheepishly replies. “Kim did it.”

“Kudos. Tommi and Mamaji have been trying to convince her to do it for years now.”

“They have not.”

Jason doesn’t even humor Trini with a response. There’s just no need to.

“So what’s the latest? Have you guys heard from Tommi and Zack? Is Max okay?” Kim asks, changing the subject.

“As far as we know, yes. We were able to talk to Tommi roughly an hour ago, and she said they were holding down the fort. A broken window or two from flying debris, but otherwise they were doing just fine.”

Trini notices Kim exhale a slight sigh of relief and instinctually takes hold of her hand. It’s a small gesture, but she knows that it won’t go overlooked. Kim entwines her fingers with Trini’s and gives a squeeze in return.

“What about that stone Billy mentioned. Find anything else out about it?” Trini asks.

“What stone?” Kim’s eyes ping-pong between Trini and Jason, desperate for someone to fill in the blanks.

“The Epithymía stone. Yeah, it’s 99.9% the cause of this, but no such luck on locating it.”

“Do we at least know what it looks like?” Trini replies.

Jason gives a simple nod in confirmation as he begins to rub the back of his neck. A classic tell that his stress levels are on the steady climb. “Small, yellow, and gem-ish. Or at least that’s how the text describes it.”

“How small is small?” Kim asks picking up on the underlying tone of concern in his voice.

“Small,” Jason responds with an ominous emphasis to that immediately sends a wave of chills down Trini’s spine. “Small enough to fit in a pocket.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

A gem.

A small yellow gem that can easily fit in a pocket…

A jean pocket.

Like the strange yellow gem that’s currently residing in the pocket of dirty jeans on the floor of her bedroom closet.

Fuck.

Kim lets out another sigh and tucks a loose strand of her raven locks behind her ear. “So where do we start looking?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. Billy thinks we should start with--”

BANG.

Billy suddenly appears on top of the bar. “Yes! Woot! It worked!”

“Babe? What are you doing here?” Jason asks in a state of utter shock. He leaps to his feet and goes to help Billy down from the bar.

“I detected another spike of Ranger energy. A huge one. Bigger than the last one and was worried you were in trouble. Did you… Oh! Trini you cut your hair again. I always liked it better that way. Did Kimberly do it for you?” Billy rambles on as he takes a seat at the table.

“Yeah,” Kim says with a hint of a smile as she lovingly runs her hand through Trini’s hair.

“But wait… Trini hasn’t let anyone touch her hair since… Oh!” Billy turns towards Jason with a sudden look of realization. “That’s what we felt! Trini and Kimberly. They weren’t in danger. They were having--”

But Billy is cut off by Jason’s hand clamping down over his mouth. “Yes.”

An ear to ear grin spreads across Billy’s face as he glances at Trini and then Kim and then back again at Trini. His pure excitement is nothing short of infectious, causing a round of light and slightly awkward chuckles to circle the table.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it uncomfortable, but… yay! I knew it was only a matter of time with you both back together in the same location,” Billy replies as his smile somehow manages to grow even wider. “Oh! It’s over 72 hrs. That means I win the pool, right?”

“You bet on us?” Trini exclaims. She shoots a dagger-like stare in Jason’s direction, instantaneously causing him to flush with embarrassment.

“No… Not really… It was more like a general conversation where some money exchanged hands,” Jason stumbles through a response, unable to maintain eye contact with either Trini or Kim.

“You’re so dead, Scott.”

“If you want to blame someone, you should blame Tommi. The pool was her idea. Ironically enough, though, she was grossly off with her prediction. She said that you two wouldn’t reunited in the physical sense for at least another four days and it would require a great deal of alcohol,” Billy chimes in.

“She wasn’t that far off,” Trini mutters under her breath as she gives a quick glance over to the now empty bottle of Johnny Walker on the edge of the bar.

“Okay. Can we get back to this stone?” Kim turns her full attention to Billy. “What else were you able to dig up on it?”

“Did you tell them about the connection to our power coins?” Billy asks Jason, warranting a quick head shake in response.

“What about our coins?” Trini’s voice unusually rises up on the tail end of the question as to the ever-growing lump of fear and dread swirls within the pit of her stomach.

“Well, oddly enough, there appears to be some sort of connection between the Epithymía stone and the green power coin. Or at least that’s what I was able to determine. The last time the Epithymía stone was activated, it unleashed an unknown entity that essentially proceeded to hunt down the Green Ranger and attempted to strip them of their coin.”

Tommi.

Breathe, Gomez.

It’s going to be okay.

“Wait… What? Did you tell Tommi this?” Kim questions, her voice rising as well with a more than a clear underlying sense of sudden panic to it.

“Yes, but there’s no need to worry. The Epithymía stone acts as a beacon device. As long as Tommi is not near the stone then there no immediate threat.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

No.

Oh god, Tommi…

Zack…

Max.

Fuck.

Max.

“We need to get back to the house,” Trini says, voice trembling as she fights back the overwhelming mass of fear not residing in the back of her throat

“T? What’s--”

“Now. We need to get back there now!” Trini cuts Kim off, breath quickening with each and every word. A full-blown panic attack is on the horizon. She knows it. It’s only a matter of time.

“Okay… Okay… We will, but you just heard Billy. There’s no reason for us--”

“No. I know where the stone is,” Trini blurts out in a rushed exhale of breath. “It’s in the house.”

[ythmir-writes]

fandom: Midnight Cinderella character: Nico Meier

warnings for slight spoilers, and pain; occurs in Nico’s route after his return to Wysteria from Stein

originally posted on main original timestamp: 26 January 2016

You Can’t Come Back

“Princess?”

(Y/N) snapped out of her reverie as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She quickly turned around and met Leo’s frowning face. “Yes?”

“That was the third time I called out to you.” Leo peered at her through his glasses.

Giles was behind Leo, looking just as worried as the older Crawford twin. It took a moment before (y/n) realized where she was and what she was doing.

Wysteria. Briefing. Plans to disperse the opposition to the princess system.

She had documents in her hand but couldn’t quite remember how she had gotten them. Leo must have handed it to her. Or had it been Giles?

She looked at Leo again - had they been discussing something? Was it her turn to speak? “I…” she hesitated, gripping the documents tighter, feeling the paper crumple slightly in her hand. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

The question didn’t quite register itself inside her head. Or maybe it was that it did and that would explain why her heart ached and sank. Was she all right? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t quite sure of anything at the moment. But she had slept a dreamless sleep hadn’t she? And she had a hearty breakfast earlier. Besides, it had already been two days since her return from Stein, so why was she…?

“I’m okay.”

Even she didn’t believe the sound of her voice.

“I’m just…”

She bit her lip, trying her best to steady herself and not let the fact that Nico…

That Nico was not…

The tears pricked at her eyes and she quickly tried to wipe them away as subtley as she could. It was no good to cry, no; no good to bawl out and be emotional about something that even she was powerless to change.

“Princess,” Leo said gently, glancing at Giles who nodded his head, “If you need to take a moment, Giles and I will -”

“No.” Her voice was firmer this time. To continue letting things get out of hand was irresponsible. She’d been coddled enough, and almost always allowed someone else to take care of things for her. And the last time she allowed that… things hadn’t exactly ended the way she wanted.

She took a deep breath, composing herself, steeling every fiber of her being before looking at them both. “Let’s continue discussing the plans.” She looked at the documents in her hands.

She needed to concentrate.

She needed to be productive.

She needed to be strong.

That was why she had agreed to move herself outside of palace, she reminded herself. Opposition from the rebel citizens would best be dealt with if their movements were far from prying eyes and earnest ears. Too many nobles and beaurucrats had taken advantage of her little stint in Stein to try and grab the throne. Included in those efforts were attempts at trying to recruit as much of the palace staff as possible to serve as spies. Some have been dealt with but Giles wanted to be certain.

Focus.

He and Leo - even Duke Howard for that matter - had done what they could to keep the princess system intact. Her sudden reappearance had caused most of the dissidents to recant and pledge allegiance to the princess elect but there were still enough of the rebel group to try and stage something radical. A coup. An uprising. Heaven forbid, even civil war. There was no telling what could and could not happen.

Focus.

Protea had interpreted her disappearance as an act of allegiance with Stein, and was preparing for the worst. Laurelia had acted neutral for more than three decades but rumors of spearmen marching into the city using the cover of night, and the all to real fact that it was repairing and strengthening its walls, were the kind of rumors that shouldn’t be taken lightly.

Too many openings and too many avenues for mistakes. They needed to act swiftly to stamp any and all opposition out. Or at the very least, render them ineffective.

She needed to focus on that now.

“Most of the kitchen staff has been checked and double checked.” Giles said. “Additional measures were implemented to make sure that no one could infilrate us in that way again.”

“That’s a relief.” (Y/n) flipped through the papers as fast as she could. “Oh! The checkpoints we placed are proving to be an effective deterrent.”

“Yup. No more surprise armsdealing. Some nobles had a fit about that though.” Leo chuckled.

“We will have to thank Duke Howard.” (Y/n) said.

More discussions. More plans. Most of it was coming from Leo and Giles, who had more experience in the matters than her. Despite that, (y/n) felt hopeful as the hours passed by. Hopeful, yes. But mostly relieved, finally able to focus her thoughts more on productive matters, and less on self-pitying thoughts about how Nico…

No. Not again.

Not anymore.

Letters came in: declarations of loyalty, invitations and offers of help, some were wellwishers, from families who were glad that the princess was safe within the country again. At teatime, more documents were carried by the knights into the study. (Y/n) began going through them immediately.

“Page twelve has the locations of the remaining meeting places we haven’t been able to shut down.” She said. “Most have been taken care of… in two days?” (Y/N) scanned the page quickly before looking behind her where a map of Wysteria had been pinned to the wall. Red tacks had been used to mark possible buildings used as fronts to support the dissidents. And there were a lot. “That’s amazing! I didn’t know we had enough knights to be able to cover the provinces fast enough -”

“It wasn’t just my knights.” Alyn entered the room, face scowling as Leo greeted him with a wave. He stood next to (y/n), putting her between him and his twin. He then looked at Giles, focusing his gaze so he didn’t so much as have Leo in his line of sight. “You were right, Giles.”

“I try not to let that get to me too much.” Was the royal adviser’s reply. Part of (y/n) expected Giles to be smiling but his lips were getting thinner by the second.

“I don’t understand.” (Y/n) said. “This is supposed to be good news, right?”

“If we knew who was helping us.” Alyn replied. “But we don’t.”

“What?”

“Which could mean two things. It may mean that they’re actually helping us. Or they’re not and they’re busy pushing their own agenda.” Leo added.

(Y/n)’s gaze shifted from Leo to Alyn. “If this group is taking out our enemies, shouldn’t we be at the very least relieved? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?”

“It isn’t a group.” Alyn’s voice was low and (y/n) stared at him. “We have an idea but I don’t trust that information broker one fucking bit.”

Giles sighed loudly, putting down his cup. “Sid has never been wrong either.”

(Y/n) slowly turned her head to look at Giles, hoping that the rush of emotions she was feeling was anything else except dread.“You all know something I don’t, don’t you?” She said in a quiet voice.

Nobody in the room said anything.

(Y/n) placed the documents in her hands unto the table as casually as she could, schooling her features carefully into an emotionless mask. One step. Two. Four. Then she stopped and looked at the three men who had all stood up and were watching her. It was only Leo who had a sympathetic look on his face.

For a moment, she almost didn’t want to continue but if there was anything she learned from Stein, and from the current political situation she was trying to extract herself from, it was that she was the one wearing the crown. She had responsibilities. She had duties. Yes, she could never hide nor unburden herself of that. But there was something else she had, that for too long she had refused to utilize.

Not anymore.

“Giles Christophe. I am your princess, am I not?”

“(Y/N) -”

“Am. I. Not?” She asked again, steel in her voice now. Steel that she was using to hide the tears she could feel were threatening to show again.

And she had damn nearly spent the whole day -

“Yes, your highness.“Giles said.

"I assume you decided to hide this information on your better judgment?”

“Yes.”

“And that this better judgment dictated upon your conscience to hide a small detail. A detail that could have been easily overlooked where it not for someone hinting at it?”

Giles’ eyes were narrowed at Alyn, who raised his hands in defeat. “Yes.”

“And that this detail would not have affected any of the plans that were already laid out.” It was (Y/n)’s turn to narrow her eyes at Giles. She paused for a moment, seeing the bigger picture. “As a matter of fact, you already took it into account.”

“Yes.”

“Giles is our dangerous wolf.” Leo piped.

“Dangerous indeed.” (Y/n) repeated, clasping her hands together to stop herself from shaking. But it wasn’t anger she was feeling.

Giles sighed loudly, crossing his arms. He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he looked at (y/n), it was surprisingly gentle. “I had intended to reveal it at a later time, (y/n). It’s something better off your mind and i wasn’t - still not, to be honest - convinced it would be productive to discuss plans with a princess whose state of mind is clearly on something else.”

“Not your call.” (Y/n) shook her head.

“It was a bit presumptious, I know.” Giles answered.

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

“I was simply trying to protect -”

(Y/n) raised her hand to stop him from continuing. Her insides throbbed with a thousand emotions she couldn’t name, each turning and crashing with each other that she felt like she was going to burst. She balled her hands into fists, nails digging into her palms so much it hurt.

“Next time,” she finally said. “Be more forthcoming about these things.”

“Princess…” Leo started, hesitated, and then went on, “There’s no reason for you to push yourself like that.”

“There’s no need to coddle me. I can handle this much.”

“(Y/n) -”

“Please.” She insisted. “If you keep protecting me like this, how else will I move on?”

The three men looked at each other, and somehow without saying anything came to a consensus.

“Of course.” It was Giles who spoke.

“Thank you.” (Y/n) looked at them and was surprised to see them smiling. “What?”

“Nothing, really. Just that the little princess is all grown up now.” Alyn was smiling. He blew out breath, then added. “I can still remember how you used to scale palace walls.”

“Alyn!”

“Don’t forget the time she almost cried because she bumped into a Contessa on her first saloon.” Leo teased.

“I did not cry!”

“You were so innocent back then.” Giles’ tone was almost wistful. “To think that you would pull an authority card against none other than me.”

“I didn’t mean -”

“Stop with those excuses, you nitwit.” Alyn’s hand was on her head now. “I don’t know what happened between you and that little runt and frankly I don’t care. You’re here now. And we’re here for you, you got that?”

The tears that threatened to spill were no longer tears of sadness and she let out a small choked gasp as she fumbled for her handkerchief. As she wiped at her tears and listened to Leo teasing Alyn for making her cry, with Giles offering her his own handkerchief, her chest swelled with love and gratefulness for them.

This was what she had now.

This was her family now.

Despite the fact that the worst scenario could happen to Wysteria, (y/n) felt a little hopeful. There were better days to come.

Until two weeks into her stay in the mansion.

As an additional measure of protection, it had been decided that the Princess Elect should take up lessons in self defense. Alyn had been teaching her the basics and when he was away, some of the knights pitched in to help. She learned how to wield a sword and throw knives, how to deflect, and how to gauge an enemy’s skill by the way they held their weapons. She was no expert and quite frankly, had nearly zero talent and built in athleticism.

But she was observant. And she had sharp eyes. Or at least, that was what Alyn had added as a footnote when he listed her “knightly qualities”. Which had been next to nothing.

“Remember,” Alyn added. “What do you do when you see an intruder?”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “Call for help.”

“Damn right. You think ten days of holding a sword makes you invincible?” He pointed at the pair of knights in the corner. “Alfred and Tobias are my best men. You go to them when I’m not here.”

And Alyn wasn’t here now.

She had been practicing parrying for half a day now with Alfred and Tobias. Alfred was commenting on the way she was using her wrist and was about to say something else when both he and Tobias jerked their heads towards the woods, tensing.

“Is everything all right?” She asked.

The two knights gave each other a look. And (y/n) recognized that look. It was the same look Alyn had when things weren’t all right.

“Yes.” Tobias coughed uncomfortably.

(Y/n) frowned, sheathing her sword. Tobias was a bad liar and he looked away in shame when she gave him a stern look.

“Princess, you should head back-”

“Oh no.” (Y/n) cut in. “We are going to go there and see what’s hiding -”

“With all due respect, your Highness.” Alfred continued. “Our instructions were to keep you safe.”

“I will be safe. I’m with you two.” And before either knight could object, (y/n) beelined towards woods, giving the two men no other choice but to follow her.

To be honest, (y/n) was hoping it was just an approaching messenger, or a random animal. It was just an hour past noon, and the sun was still high in the sky, but the dense foliage had an eerie feel to it. Alfred and Tobias both looked wary and uncomfortable and as they went farther and farther away from the mansion, (y/n) felt like they were being watched. And Tobias merely confirmed (y/n)’s gut when he motioned for them to stop.

“Princess,” Alfred said. “Needless to say, this is bad idea.” His jaw was tense and there were more lines between his brows that (y/n) could count.

“Let’s hurry back.” Tobias said.

(Y/n) hesitated. Somehow she felt like she needed to go further but couldn’t quite place a finger on why. Frowning, she looked at Alfred. “Are we expecting anyone today?”

Alfred shook his head. “Sir Alyn isn’t expected to return until tonight.”

One last look into the forest then (y/n) turned towards Alfred. “All right. Let’s go back. Tobias, let’s -”

“(Y/n), watch out!”

Before she could even react, someone pushed past her, shoving her away from where metal clanged loudly against metal.

“Princess!” Hands pulled her up unto her feet and away from the sound of grunting and fighting. It was Alfred. But then who was -

“Nico!”

There was no mistaking the lean frame and the messy tussle of carnation hair. And the short sword. Oh my god, (y/n) could recognize the short sword from a mile away.

“Don’t hurt him!” Was all (y/n) could scream. There was hesitation in Nico’s movements and what could have been a fatal wound was maneuvered into something less final and bloody. Nico jabbed the hilt of his sword into Tobias’ stomach, forcing the man to recoil before thrusting the same blunt end square unto the knight’s jaw.

“Why you little -” Alfred stepped forward, placing himself between (y/n) and Nico. He drew his own sword and Nico turned his attention to the blond knight, leaving the gasping Tobias behind him.

There was a flurry of movements faster than (y/n) could follow, faster than any training she had had. And for a moment, she could only stare in disbelief, realizing her utter incompetence.

Ten days doesn’t make me a knight.

A knight’s fight was not her fight. Alyn had made that clear.

But she had her own unique weapons, didn’t she?

“Nico, stop it!” (Y/n) shouted as loudly as she could. “Or so help me god, I will put you under arrest!”

That forced Nico to stop midswing before backing away from Alfred. He stared at (y/n), confusion giving way to disbelief.

“Please, stop fighting.” (Y/n) continued. “These men are Wysterian knights. Alyn placed them as my bodyguards.”

“I’ve never seen them before.” Nico’s eyes turned daggers as he looked at Alfred.

“They were never at the castle often.”

“Princess,” Alfred’s gaze never left Nico. He still held his sword defensively, placing it inbetween him and the other knight. “We should apprehend this traitor at once.”

“What the hell did you call me?” Nico’s frown deepened.

“I called you a traitor.” Alfred said. “A Stein knight going undercover to infiltrate Wysteria.” Alfred spat. “You shame a knight’s honor. You have no place -”

“Alfred, stop it.” (Y/n) stepped beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. She heard Nico scowl but paid him no heed. “Get Tobias back to the mansion.”

“B-but my lady!”

“Nico will not hurt me.” (Y/n) said firmly. “I want to speak to him. In private.”

“He can do that inside the mansion walls, my lady.” Tobias was on his feet now, blood running down his nose.“In chains.”

(y/n) took a deep breath “Nico will not be coming back to us.”

“What?” It was Nico this time who was confused. “(Y/n), I’m here because -”

(Y/n) forced herself not to look at Nico. “Alfred, please?”

Alfred shook his head. “Tobias and I will watch you from there.” He waved his hand behind him. “I’m sorry your highness, but I cannot leave you alone like this and sleep well at night.”

(Y/n) hesitated. She didn’t want the two knights eavesdropping into their conversation. But there was no way in hell that Nico would lay a foot in the mansion and survive. “Very well.”

(Y/n) watched as Alfred motioned to Tobias. Undiscernable hand signals were exchanged and (y/n) wondered if Nico understood. She looked at him and felt her chest tighten again as she saw that he was staring at her and none of the earlier ferocity was to be seen. Nico’s golden eyes were gentle and kind. And he smiled at her almost as if they were the only ones there.

(Y/n) tried smiling back but her chest felt like a thousand waves were crashing against each other, and whatever emotion crept to her face made Nico pout in worry. (Y/n) tore her gaze away, taking in a deep breath.

Tobias and Alfred each took a side opposite each other, walking only as far as eavesdropping was impossible. (Y/n) waited for them to move further but neither knight budged.

“(Y/n)…” Nico had sheathed his sword and was smiling again now yet she could see the creases of weariness in his eyes. He sighed and then chuckled. “I missed you.”

“Nico, I…” She missed him. She missed Nico so much. As much as she hated to admit it there hasn’t been a day when she didn’t think of him.

For a moment, (y/n) forgot everything she had gone through and all she felt she needed to do was to run into Nico’s arms and never let go. She wanted to kiss him, to feel him in her arms, to feel the way he lifted her in arms in turn. And his laugh. Gods, she missed his laugh.

But that was only for a moment.

Things were different now.

“Reports have been received that a mystery man is going out and about and overthrowing those opposing the princess system.” (Y/n) forced her tone to be as neutral as possible. “Was that you?”

Nico sighed again, his smile rueful now. “Yes.”

All the pent up emotion she felt the past three weeks suddenly came rushing back into her chest that she shook as she stepped towards Nico. And before she could even begin to completely understand what happened, she had smacked Nico hard in the face.

The sound shocked her as much as it did him. Nico’s eyes were wide, his hand barely touching his cheek that was quickly turning a shade of red.

“Did King Byron order you to do this?” (Y/n) demanded. “Did he?”

Nico made no comment.

“Did King Byron as the sovereign of Stein ask you to lend a hand in the political issues of Wysteria?”

“No.”

“Then why are you here?” (Y/n) felt the first tear run down her cheek. Then another, and another.

She didn’t wipe away her tears this time. No. For too long she had been holding in her emotions - or was it that she had been holding them at arm’s length? And now that Nico was here… Now that Nico had returned…

(Y/n) almost jumped. Nico was suddenly near her, placing a hankerchief on her cheek. “I wanted…” his voice was barely a whisper. “I wanted to protect you. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

No…

“It wasn’t the same. I was always looking for you, always wondering if you were okay.” He looked at her squarely now and she could see the pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry, (y/n). We’ve talked, I know. But as the days went by, I understood what you meant. I shouldn’t have -”

“Stop!”

“What?”

“Just fucking stop!” All manners were beyond her at this point and she pushed Nico away from her. “No. Enough of that. I’m not going to go through this again!”

How many times had they had this conversation? Too many. How many times had she cried for him to not go? Too many. How many times had she tried talking to him, explaining to him, practically coaxing him to stay? Too many.

Even she had her limits.

“(Y/n) listen to me,” Nico’s voice was pleading as he tried to reach out to her but she took a step back, then another, and another, shaking her head all the while.

“No.” Even to her ears, her voice was loud and firm and laced with everything she had felt when he left her carriage on their way back to Stein. It was angry. It was bitter.

It was hurt.

“You come into Wysterian territory without a formal order from Stein. You interfere with political issues without so much as a sanction from your king! This is wrong, Nico! You should stop from engaging in these acts -!”

“This isn’t for King Byron!” Nico was holding back his own tears now, his hands balled into fists. “It was for you. It was for me.”

“Stop it! You think you can just leave and then expect me to welcome you back with open arms as if nothing has changed?”

”(Y/n), I’m sorry for all -”

”I don’t need that now!”

“It was for us, (y/n)! I did it for us!”

(Y/n) shouted in frustration, unsheathing her sword and pointing it at Nico point blank. To say that Nico was shocked would be an understatement. He had gone pale, his eyes round and horrified, his mouth open in disbelief.

“Leave! Or by the authority vested in me as Princess Elect, I will put you under arrest!”

Enough.

They’ve said their goodbyes weeks ago.

There would be no point in repeating all that.

[tomnhaz]

Saved My Life: H.O. x reader

Request: Hey! Can I get an imagine where Y/N is an emergency room doctor (she’s american) and she is visiting her boyfriend (either Tom or Haz) on set and another cast member gets seriously injured while their watching them film and she runs in and handles everything and gets everything stable before EMT’s get there. She is just an all-around badass. You can decide how it ends and how everyone reacts. Sorry for it being so descriptive, it just popped into my head and thought it was a cool idea. Thanks :)

Word Count: ~2.3k whoops

Notes: Hey lovelies, requests are still open !! FEEDBACK IS APPRECIATED !! :)))

Warnings: None ? Maybe a few swears, and like medical stuff but not like gory so idk ?

You were visiting your boyfriend Harrison while he was away with Tom filming for Spiderman: Far From Home. You were an emergency room doctor in a hospital in New York, and although your schedule is super demanding, you were able to get some time off to come out and see your boyfriend. You had flown into town a few days ago, and were really looking forward to spending the rest of the week exploring the city with your boyfriend of 2 years.

Currently, you were standing with Harrison off to the side of the set for the scene that Tom was currently filming. It was a stunt scene, but stunts were something Tom was used to, and you were impressed each and every time you watched him pull off a flip. Except, I guess sometimes he didn’t pull them off.

Harrison was in the middle of telling you about his adventure into the city with Harry last week, when the two of you heard a loud crash, followed by Tom yelping. The two of you quickly rush over to check and see if he is okay, and you begin to feel your medical training instinct kick in.

Your friends back in America always told you that whenever you were working, you were a completely different person. Medicine had always been something you were extremely passionate about, and whenever you were at the hospital, or on call, you were in your zone. Nothing could hold you back, and every shy or reserved tendencies you had before, were completely erased.

When you got to Tom’s side you assessed his injuries quickly before taking over the situation. When you arrived, Tom had been knocked unconscious after hitting his head against one of the props, which also gave his a pretty nasty cut on his forehead. Upon further examination you found that he had also injured his shoulder, most likely in an attempt to break his fall.

You quickly turned and saw Jacob standing next to you, ‘Jacob I need you to call the paramedics, and tell them to bring an ambulance. Quickly.’ Jacob nodded, his eyes still wide and obviously shaken up at Tom’s condition before running off and doing as you asked.

You knelt down next to Tom in order to treat his wounds when you felt the swarm of people huddle in around you in an attempt to see what was going on. Nothing ever bothered you more while you were working than masses of people gawking at you while you worked. You needed them to back up and give you space. You turned around faced them, ‘Okay everyone, I’m a doctor and I’m gonna need you all to back up. I need to help Tom, but I can’t do it with all of you breathing down my neck, so everyone take at least 10, hey why not 15, steps back.’ you shouted, quickly falling into your work persona.

‘Harrison, Zendaya,’ you said, turning your attention to your two friends who were standing behind you. ‘I want you guys to stay here. I’m gonna need your help.’ Both of them nodded hesitantly before coming to stand behind you.

You looked around set and found the first aid kit against the wall, you grabbed it along with a wooden block from the floor before returning to kneel at Tom’s side.

You decided that you needed to address the cut on Tom’s forehead and check to make sure the blow to his head didn’t cause any brain damage. You checked his pupils and his responsiveness and everything was perfect so you started to clean the wound. The cut was pretty deep, and blood kept spilling out as you attempted to clean it. You pulled gauze from the med kit and beckoned Zendaya over to your side. ‘Z, I need you to hold this gauze against his cut. You need to apply a lot of pressure in order to try and control his bleeding. Can you do that?’ Zendaya nodded and grabbed the gauze before moving to rest Tom’s head in her lap and apply pressure to his cut. It’s at this point that Tom regains consciousness.

‘Yikes, what happened? All this fuss over little old me?’, Tom joked before wincing at the pain in his shoulder, ‘oh fuck me that hurts’ he moaned as Zendaya pulled his head back to rest in her lap so she could continue to apply pressure to his cut. ‘Fuck, my arm hurts a lot, y/n, I’m gonna die. Am i gonna die?’ Tom asked, starting to panic slightly as the shock began to set in.

‘No, Tom, you’re not going to die’ you smiled down at him before turning to shout over your shoulder ‘Jacob! Where the hell are the paramedics?’. You were beginning to get nervous, Tom was your friend, and your tough persona was starting to fade. You didn’t want to make a mistake, granted you very, very rarely made mistakes, but you didn’t want to have to be the one to hurt Tom.

‘They said they’d be here in 15 minutes’ you heard Jacob answer from the crowd of people still standing way to close behind you. You cursed under your breath and sweat began to appear on your forehead. You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Harrison.

‘Love, what’s wrong’, he asked, concerned laced in his voice.

Seeing the fear etched onto your boyfriend’s face snapped you back to reality. You looked nervously over your shoulder before shouting again, ‘Okay everyone back another 5 feet. Yup, back it up people’, you looked back at Harrison once you were sure everyone was out of hearing distance. ‘Harrison, it’s dislocated.’

Harrison looked down at his best friend lying on the ground and then back up at you, confusion replacing the fear in his expression. ‘And what does that mean?’ he asked.

You took a breath in, ‘It means that the paramedics aren’t gonna be here quick enough and I have to put it back in place or Tom could suffer long term nerve damage in his arm’, you exhaled and turned to face your boyfriend.

Harrison sat back, ran his hands through his curls, and took a few deep breaths in. ‘Okay’ he finally muttered, unsure whether he wanted to cry or pass out from nerves.

You continued looking at Harrison, trying to interpret what he was feeling, ‘It’s going to hurt him. A lot’ You could tell that Harrison was nervous, but you couldn’t have his emotions getting in the way of your work. ‘Haz, I need you to pull yourself together and help me’ you said grabbing Harrison’s face and forcing him to look away from his friend on the floor and into your Y/E/C eyes. You could see the pain replace the usual brightness in his eyes, at seeing his best friend in so much pain. ‘Harrison, can you do that for me?’

Harrison glanced quickly down at Tom before looking back at you and nodding his head, ‘yes, yes I can. What do you need me to do?’

‘I need you to hold him still. Put your hands here, and here’ you directed one of Harrison’s hand to Tom’s uninjured shoulder and the other on his chest. ‘I need you to push down and keep him from squirming. If he moves, there’s a chance that I could make the pain worse than it already is, and I don’t want to do that. I need you to hold him as still as you can. Can you do that?’

‘Yes’ Harrison stammered, beginning to push down where you told him to. Tom continued to groan and you tapped his chin, drawing his attention back to you.

‘Tom, you dislocated your shoulder. I’m gonna put it back’ he nodded along, grimacing, ‘it’s gonna hurt, love. A lot. But then I promise it will feel better.’ You saw fear flash across Tom’s face again, but it vanished quickly as he nodded once more. You smiled slightly realizing how strong your friend was even when he was in so much pain.

You looked around for the block you had grabbed earlier and guided it into Tom’s mouth. ‘Here, Tommy, bite down on this. I promise this will all be over soon. Okay, love?’ Tom nodded once again and bit down on the block, squeezing his eyes shut. His free hand reached up to grab at Harrison’s hand that was on his shoulder. Harrison looked down at his friend and gave a reassuring nod, ‘It’ll be okay, mate. Y/N knows what she’s doing. She’s gonna help you’, Tom smiled slightly, the block still between his teeth, and looked at you before nodding again, signaling for you to go.

You grabbed Tom’s right arm carefully, taking his hand from its resting position on his stomach and moving it towards you so that his arm was at a 90 degree angle with his elbow pinned against the side of his chest and his hand reaching up. You then continued rotating his forearm towards you, being careful to keep his elbow pinned to his chest, until his hand and wrist were almost touching the ground. You waited until you felt the resistance and then the pop followed, as his shoulder slid back into place.

You smirked slightly at your success and glanced at Harrison, taking note of the look of awe in his face and something else in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. You rotated Tom’s arm back to rest against his chest and fastened it there with a bit of cloth. You looked back down at your friend, who had tears in his eyes; he spit the block out of his mouth and looked up at you. ‘My hero’, he said with a smile and a wink. You laughed and shot him a reassuring smile before gazing out at the crowd around you, who were all still standing there, shocked.

Suddenly, they all began to applaud and cheer. You felt heat rise in your cheeks at the attention, your work persona falling and being replaced by your usual, reserved self. You stood up before walking over to the paramedics who had, conveniently, just arrived. You explained to them that you were a trauma doctor from America and detailed to them what had happened, the treatment you had administered, and what your suggested course of treatment was. They thank you before rushing over to Tom and placed him in a proper sling.

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind, and a smile crept onto your face as you recognized the watch you had given your boyfriend last year for his birthday. ‘Hello’ you whispered before turning around in his arms and bring your hands up to wrap around his neck.

Harrison didn’t say anything, instead he pressed his lips firmly onto yours. It wasn’t a heated kiss, by definition, but there was definitely plenty of emotion poured into it. It was needy, but not in a sexual way. You struggled to describe it, but it was the way he kissed you before he boarded the plane to leave you for filming in London. A kiss that was filled with so many emotions that you just couldn’t name them all even if you tried.

You were quick to respond to the kiss, bringing your hands up to run them through Harrison’s blonde curls, which were all over the place from him running his hand through them.

You were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and when you pulled away from Harrison, your lips swollen and one of his arms still wrapped around your waist, you were met with Tom’s grinning face.

He was put on a stretcher, bandage wrapped around his forehead, and a sling on his arm to keep his shoulder in place. Zendaya was standing next to him, one of her hands resting on the handle on the stretcher. ‘I just wanted to express my deepest gratitude to the doctor that saved my life’ Tom started with a smirk, ‘but I see she’s already busy saving someone else’s…’

You scoffed and responded ‘Don’t be a div about it Tom or I won’t do it next time’

Zendaya was quick to butt in, ‘Tom, this badass chick here is more of a superhero than you will ever be’ she stated, sass dripping off her every word and her lips forming a devilish smirk.

‘Hey!’ Tom shouted in protest, playing mock offended and placing his good hand over his chest, ‘That hurts z, that hurts deep’. You laughed at the both of them before wishing them well and watching them load Tom into the back of the ambulance and her climb in after.

Once the ambulance pulled away you turned back around and faced your boyfriend. Harrison once again wrapped his arms around your waist and you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. You rested your head against his chest, and you hummed approvingly when you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

‘He’s right you know’ Harrison broke the silence. You pulled away slightly to look up at him and gaze into his ocean blue eyes, a look of confusion painted on your face. ‘You have saved me, Y/N. I love you’ he finished, smiling down at you.

A wide smile slowly formed on your lips as you stared up at him, your eyes filled with love at the beautiful boy in front of you that you were fortunate enough to call yours. ‘I love you too, Haz’ you answered as you pulled his lips down to meet yours.

[abrunettefangirlnerd]

Wont Stop

Prompt: You are the newest recruit for the Avengers. Your room is right next to the Winter Soldier, and since being here you are awaken by the sound of Bucky restless after his nightmares. One night you decide to go in to check if he’s okay.

Part: 1/5

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Slight mention of abuse

Word Count: 1619

            After being recruited a month ago, Avenger headquarters started to feel like home. Of course the team played a big part in this. Steve was the one who brought me in after I nearly drowned him. That’s my power, or curse as some would call it, hydrokinesis. I can manipulate water, yes a lot like Katara from Avatar the Last Airbender but not as glamorous.

             Ever since getting here almost everyone was eager to welcome me in, almost everyone. Bucky, also known as the Winter Soldier, didn’t seem so thrilled upon my arrival. As a matter of fact he’s still not, most of the time he keeps to his room when he’s not training. Nat told me to not take it personally, he usually doesn’t interact with anyone but Steve.

“Hey Steve, will Bucky be joining us for training today?” I asked with a joking smile, already knowing the answer.

“Not today, (Y/N).” Steve sets down his water. “He didn’t sleep well last night.”

             A involuntary snort escapes me as my feet assume a fighting stance. Bucky never sleeps well, he is constantly waking up from some sort of nightmare. Other than his name, the constant nightmares are the only thing I know about him.

Being predictable, Steve starts with a punch that I easily block and proceed to hit him in the gut. Not doing anything to him, Steve easily takes me down with a kick to my knee.

             While sparing Steve doesn’t want me to use my powers, which is completely unfair because he gets to use his. My figures tingle as they will for the water in Steve’s bottle. Knowing what I’m planning to do Steve shoots me a warning look as he pins my body to the ground.

“No powers (Y/N).” Steve teases.

“Scared Rogers?” I snarl. “It’s only water.”

             In that instant not just the water from the bottle comes to my aid, but some of the water from the lake just outside the window. The glass that was once keeping us separated from outside now lays in pieces on the floor.

“(Y/N)!” Steve shouts.

             My eyes grow wide as they take in the chaos. Water is everywhere, leaving Steve soaking wet along with the floor mixed with the remaining glass. I spring to my feet and assess the damage. Not even sure of me saying sorry I turn on my heal and race away from the scene. Steve’s voice present in my ears as he take off shouting after me, but his voice seems distant as though I am underwater too.

             Not noticing where I am going, not really caring, my body hits what seems to be a wall. Looking up did my eyes realize I did not hit a wall but a person, our eyes connecting together like magnets. They are dark, mysterious, and holy captivating. A cool chill of shivers runs up my body as we just stand there gazing.

“Buck,” Steve breathes, hunching over with his hands on his knees. “Would you please tell (Y/N) not to try and drown me next time?”

        ��    Bucky shoots a puzzling look my way, almost questioning if it is even possible I could. My stubborn nature instantly courses a challenge through my veins. I’ll prove him wrong, someday if I can get more than 5 seconds with him.

“Stark needs to see you.” Whatever expression Bucky once had is now wiped clean, along with your presence in the room. “He said it was important.” Yup, I’m completely invisible.

             Steve gives a nod saying his goodbye as he runs toward Tony’s lab. This leaves you alone with Bucky, which always caused the air in the room to thin. After standing there shifting his weight for another minute he saunters off down the hall to his room.

“Good to see to you too.” You shout as he closes his door with a thud.

             Regaining focus you walk into the kitchen for a glass of water. Once in there you are greeted by Thor and Bruce, who are once again trying to explain who won their pervious fight on a different planet. Thor’s hands go flying as he recreates what happened in the arena, while at the same time trying to keep Bruce calm so he doesn’t Hulk out.

“Are you two ever going to let this go?” I huff resting my head on the palm of my hand. “It doesn’t even matter. Bruce you were in this environment for a long time,  and Thor you were trying to protect yourself. You two are friends and made it out of there together.”

“Yeah but I-” Thor starts again but I cut him off with my hand.

“Stop, I beg of you.” Puffing my lower lip out for affect. “It gives me a migraine, so drop it.”

“Ouch, look at who woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Nat says walking in.

             She grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and stands next to Bruce. I’m not quite sure what is going on between them. Nat gives him the flirty butterfly eyes every time he’s in the room, but I can’t figure out of Bruce is ignoring it or just happens to be that oblivious. Nat told me that he is afraid of hurting her, but she called bullshit on that a long time ago. There is nothing more he can do to hurt her that hasn’t already been done.

**

             Nighttime came a lot sooner than expected, as it does almost every day. About every night I’m woken up by Bucky, though I can’t give him and his nightmares all the credit. My body is practically programed to wake up at certain times throughout the night and to small noises – just like when I was growing up – if that’s what we want to call it.

“No no no!” My ears ring on my pillow.

             It’s not like it’s loud or anything, but this is all I hear night after night so given it has been a month it’s almost expected of me to have a negative reaction. Though tonight something feels strange. I was already up, having been awoke by my own nightmare, but my heart almost aches for Bucky tonight.

             Don’t get me wrong, I’ve always felt for the guy. I know what it’s like to have a past that was easy to forget. I had an abusive dad who thankfully passed while I was still young, leaving me with my aunt who later dumped me on the streets. At the age of 10 I was on my own, I struggled with my powers, finding food, fought with other homeless people, and had one hell of a time trying to keep from getting sick.

             Without much thought I pull a hoodie over my head and walk out of my room. Trying to be as quiet as possible my toes land me right in front of his door. I can hear my heart racing in my ears. What if he can hear it too?

“Bucky.” You whisper as loud as you can. “It’s me, (Y/N).”

“What do you want?” He seethes opening the door just enough for me to see his face.

“I just… I just wanted to – to,” all sense of words stumbled out of my brain just for this moment. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.” I slowly ease out.

             Bucky’s eyebrows knit together but he slowly inches the door slightly open allowing me entrance to his room. My eyes scan the area. Like everyone else there is a bed and a table with a lamp next to it, but that’s it. Other than his arm laying across the little table there isn’t anything else in the room. Kinda odd for someone who used to live before and during World War II.

“It’s all gone.” His raspy voice causes me to jump. “My stuff, it was all lost when I was. No one keeps the things of a dead man.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” he interrupts me with a shake of the head. “So what were you dreaming about?”

             Clearly this was the wrong choice of words. Bucky’s expression goes nonexistent again, he just looks numb. There is no indication that he will speak. Good job (Y/N), you got him talking but had to go screw it up. Quickly apologizing the room falls silent as my eyes stare at him sitting on the bed.

“You don’t have to tell me, I understand having a past you’d rather forget.” Still no answer, but at least his eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Why don’t you like me?” The words come rushing out.

             Probably not the best choice of words either but at least I get more of a reaction out of him. If my eyes aren’t betraying me I could have sworn I saw a smile spread across his face for a split second. God if only he would do that more often. He doesn’t seems as terrifying and intense when he loosens up.

“It’s not that I don’t like you,” he begins. “You just have a way of making me feel uneasy.”

             Heat rises to my cheeks as I hide my face hoping he doesn’t notice. A little smile plays on my lips as my heart starts racing once more. Turning back around to face him I can tell by his eyes that he noticed his effect on me.

“Well I hope it’s not in a bad way,” I say plopping down next to him. “We fight alongside each other.”

“No,” he pauses. “Nothing like that.”

“Good.” I rise back to my feet and attempt to tower over him. “Because I have hopes in becoming really good friends.”

Next >

[sian22redux]

Pretty Woman

For  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan ‘s  Body Positivity Challenge.

Pairing:  Plus size reader x Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Setting: Post Infinity War, the world has magically gone back to normal…

Rating: T

For the gorgeous @winters-beauty because she really likes this type of challenge.

 With a prompt like “your body is not ruined”  I know most folks are thinking of post-pregnancy or something but I’ve gone a different way, based on my own recent experiences.  This is post major illness where reader has to adjust to change. Hence some of her reactions here are based on loss of health of course, and control, and having to adjust to a new reality.  

 Fortunately her two guys have some experience with that.  

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

“Help!!”

The panicked cry that suddenly tumbles from your mouth brings your boyfriends running from the living room.

“Y/N?! Jarvis!?”  Steve is the first to skid to a halt at the bedroom door, blond brows creasing in anxiety and hands glued to the frame, ready to propel himself against whatever threat lurks inside.  His frown and tanned bulk take up all the open space, block the escape route as he quickly scans the room, reconning automatically for any one of several unpleasant situations.  

Intruder?  

Explosion? 

Lethal virus?

Nope.  

Nothing quite so deserving of an American hero’s skills.

Just your dumb rotten luck.  

“All is secure, Captain Rogers,” intones Jarvis mildly from above the massive closet door and you almost, almost laugh, because-- secure.   Great choice of verb.   Thanks.  Thanks so very much.  Now the AI is making jokes..

Bucky arrives a heartbeat behind and elbows Steve aside, squeezing through to stand worriedly at the cream carpet’s edge.  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

What’s wrong?!!!

James Buchanan Barnes allegedly has super-vision.   How can he not fricken’ see?!  

“I’m stuck!!!”

You stand poised in the middle of your bright and airy Tower bedroom wondering how life came to this.  There’s a tankini top caught about your chest and upper arms that’s mashing tender skin. The matching boxer briefs are wedged halfway up your ample thighs, their blue elastic pinching so hard it just might bruise.  

Secure.  

Yup.  

Impossibly. Hopelessly. Secure.

The frustration of this new reality makes you want to howl but it is the humiliation of standing there, inextricably pinned by two small scraps of cloth, that sends the tears silently coursing down your cheeks.   It was hopeless from the start.  There is no way you will get your one and only (and favourite) bathing suit on.  

Now, or possibly forever.  

The realization is truly sinking in.

“My body is ruined!”

Your plaintive wail jerks Bucky into action.  He leaps forward, slips both arms around your shoulders, braces you upright, murmuring “No doll, your body is not ruined,” softly against your hair, stroking your shuddering back as the dam bursts wide and months of pent up hurt flow out in a hiccupping, sobbing mess.  Steve, as always hyper focused on the mission, has figured out that rescue and extraction are the first priority and so he bends down and stretches the suit’s leg holes wide with his two strong hands, taking care not to tear the fabric.  Gingerly he shimmies the blue-aqua ikat print farther down-- the tugging is uncomfortable but eventually he helps you lift one foot and then the other, sets the bottoms on the bed and turns his attention to the top.  

Push, pull, wiggle—swear--- somehow he manages to remove it without tearing skin.  

You’re finally, finally free and he’s holding you, a wet and snotty, naked bundle of anxiety against his massive chest, crooning softly, “Shhh, baby, it’s ok. It’s ok.”

It’s really not.

“Here, sweetheart.”   A damp facecloth is pressed into your hand.   “Better?” Bucky’s eyes are blue green wells of hopefulness as he passes extra Kleenex for you to blow your nose and oh so delicately dabs aloe from a bottle onto the pad of his metal index finger.  

Oh god, he’s already retreated to the bathroom for supplies.   Each ensuing whisper light, achingly considerate touch of cool against the red welts upon your skin makes you want to tear up again.  Inside the chill, implacable shell of the Winter Soldier there had been trapped the world’s sweetest, gentlest man.  One who has a need to help, cannot stand to see anyone even slightly hurt, and the thought that he’s so tenderly helping you just slays you.  

Sniffing loudly, you dab your eyes and try to smile a little brokenly because you are beyond grateful but also, this is all so wrong.  “Thank you.”

Bucky nods.  Dark and gold, your boys rotate around and now Steve is at your back.  He sits on the one free bit of bed and pulls you down onto his lap with Bucky crouching down beside.  

Both are tense—and worried.  You’ve all been so looking forward to this break—to the Memorial day getaway that Tony is throwing at his Hampton house.  Laid back, weathered wood and chicly elegant white and grey, it is a sprawling haven. Rattan loungers surround an endless pool.  Acres of green lawn will host hilariously drunk croquet.  The beachside fire will glow below a vault of coruscating stars.  

Perfect and all perfectly organized by your boss, Miss Potts.  

Wheels up is at six.  

The sun is climbing quickly to its zenith, baking New York’s already heated streets and anyone who can is trying to find relief.  Bucky’s got on a linen shirt and dark boardshorts.  Steve is as dressy as he ever is in grey t-shirt and zip-off cargos.  You would have donned your sundress by now but around the three of you lie scattered a flurry of discarded summer clothes—like so much sediment rained out of a clear blue sea 

Not a single item fits.  

You’ve been sick for months.   Actually a year.   Have lost the permanent lines of pain and the wan pale skin of too much time indoors but still you are not yourself.  Eight months of steroid treatment have left you drained.  Bloated.   Living in your housecoat and nightclothes on a bad day and in sweats when it’s good.  

The fact that this is the first big event since you’ve been somewhat well stares you in the face.  Online you’d bought needed winter things but no warm weather items yet.  You’d been holding off in the faint hope you’d lose a little more.  But summer is arrived—early and abruptly--quite rudely without consideration of your schedule.  A drizzly week ago the mercury had barely climbed to sixty.   Now it’s a sweltering 82 

“I can’t go.”  

You hate yourself for saying it out loud but a little tendril of relief coils up.  You literally can’t get your suit on.  What will you do?  Hide in the house in jeans and rolled up sleeves?  Flounder in one of Steve’s fabled smedium T-shirts?  Wear one of Bucky’s as a dress??

Cocooning the whole time in the air conditioning feels as if it is giving in to debility once again.

“Steve, will you tell Tony that I’m sick?”

You twist round to catch his gaze but immediately you hear Bucky’s snarking response beside.  “Oh yeah, ask him to fib.  The one with experience lying on his forms.”

“Punk.”  

“Jerk.”   

“Hey!  I’m not the one who has the world bamboozled into thinking that I’m squeaky clean.”

“Fuck off, Buck.”

“Bingo!”

They’re quite the team---put on the squabbling couple act to try to cheer you up and you can’t help it, you shake your head in fond exasperation.  The thoughtfulness is sweet, but still, there’s a little hollow in your stomach.  They’ve done this so very much in the past few months the routine is pitch perfect every time.  

“You are meatballs, the both of you.”  

Bucky shrugs and gives a wry half smirk but Steve sighs heavily, running a soothing hand across your neck where the nerve pain has been worst.  “Your meatballs, Y/N.  But Baby, why?  You’re not hurting badly are you?”

Oh god.   Of course Steve’s going to worry about your symptoms.  Checking in, adjusting to their ups and downs, has become automatic.  You remember for a moment that first night of terror: the sudden jolt as if you’d been hit by a cattle prod, the fuzzy return to consciousness, speech slurred, left arm dead, a raging headache piercing through your skull and radiating down your neck.  Steve yelling at Jarvis to get the EMTs, all but certain it was a stroke. The week in hospital and months horizontal after that.  One night of terror turns into every night.  The seizures hit like clockwork.  Make you afraid to fall asleep because you’re going to get that same electrical shock to brain and the spreading flush of pain.   Every damn night.   Your arm, thankfully, comes back but that doesn’t stop it’s throbbing for a moment.  You feel guilty all the time because they are doing everything. Making meals. Cleaning.  Laundry.  Shopping. Shuttling you to doctors.  One of them insists on staying back from missions because you need so much help.  Neither will let anyone else but them take care of you most days, and so the Avengers do their best.  Run errands and make meals.  Read to you when the headache makes words slide across the page.  Distract Steve and Bucky with needed sparring bouts when all you can do is be still and quiet in a darkened room.  

While the medical team tries cocktails of different things, you all wait and hope.  Hoo boy is that fun.  There’s the one that makes you stoned.   The one that doesn’t work at all but gives you vertigo.  The one that works too well and makes you sleep twenty hours out of twenty-four.  The big gun intravenous med has Shield Medical quickly flushing you with ice water as you break out in hives and wheezing.   It’s supposed to slow the reaction down and so the intern stands frowning at the ensuing full body shaking, wondering if it’s progressed to an anaphylactic phase.

Buck speaks up right away when you can’t answer through chattering teeth. “It’s hypothermia.  You’ve cooled her down too fast.”

“Hypothermia?!”

“Trust me. I’ve seen it.”  

You’d all laughed grimly about that one afterward.  Finally, finally there came the med that worked.   The one that you’ll take forever.  It’s literally saved your life but this miraculous godsend is not without its downside.  

It’s number one side effect is weight gain.

Your gaze falls on the forlorn heap of lycra.  Pretty. Flattering to your curvy figure that both guys love.  It shows off your assets perfectly.  

But is now probably four sizes smaller than you need.

Would it be too much for life to not pile this on you too???   You take a deep breath and try to regain some equilibrium.  You don’t want either Steve or Buck to worry—to think that you aren’t well—but this particular problem isn’t one they’ll have not thought much on before.  “No,” you answer slowly. “It’s not that, I feel ok.” Two sets of shoulders droop, relieved. “But I can’t go in winter clothes. And I have nothing that will fit.”    

This not the cry of a spoiled pampered thing who just wants something new. Literally nothing fits.  Not shorts or skirts. Your favourite capris won’t go past your hips.  The dresses don’t do up.  Even the light evening sweater that doesn’t need to meet in front has arms so tight you’d had to peal it off inside out.  

Utterly humiliating.  

And absolutely a real and present problem.  The East coast has its first summer heat wave early.  When you asked Jarvis that morning what the temperature was outside he’d responded,  “Sir says it’s not fit for man or dog.”  

“I have to cancel going.”

Steve rises and sets you lightly on your feet.  His jaw is set, face intense and determined, and you know he’s thinking ‘no’.  That you shouldn’t give in to this disease.  Let it get in the way of life unless it’s really necessary.  

“I can’t.”   You’re pleading.  Still smarting from the too-tight straps and feeling totally demoralized. Bucky reaches out to grasp your hand while Steve pads silently over to the giant walk-in closet, rummages for the lightest weight sweats you own, holding them out hopefully. You know Tony will be so bummed. He’ll mope.  And pout.  But you can’t face it.  Hiding inside or broiling outside alongside everyone in bathing suits will only make you feel more pathetic than you already do 

You shake your head at the fuzzy mass of grey.  “You go. They’re used to me missing things.  What’s one more weekend?”

Steve sees the certainty in your eyes and does not try to argue on that point but neither does he back down.  

“We’ve just got you back.  Are so, so grateful you are ok.   We just want to see you enjoying yourself again.”  

His eyes are dark like a midnight sea.  Bucky is nodding, setting the sweats aside and handing you your undies and loose shirt and generous jeans from where they were flung across a chair.   When you take them and slowly begin to dress he crosses his arms, a shaft of sun winking off the metal.  

“Not without you, doll.”  

Not fair.  Those are words he knows will work, go straight to the heart of the little triad you have built, and then Steve of course piles it on.   “That’s right.  You don’t go, we don’t go.  We are a team.”  

Amazing, remarkable, wondrous stubborn idiots.  They are awfully hard to cross when they gang up.  

Nervously, you smooth down your dark ponytail and take a steadying breath. “I know.  It’s just…”  

What?   Too hard?

You look at the two gorgeous and true men you are all but married to. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d wind up here.   Assisting (and being a good friend to) Pepper Potts while she assists the world.  Living in Avengers Tower.   Smoothing out the rough between two lovers who have dared time and space to be together.   They need you so very much that they’ve taken a risk on something quite unorthodox, and though sometimes it makes you want to pinch yourself, lately you’ve just wanted wake up out of the nightmare.  Focusing on yourself.  And forgetting how much they sacrifice.  

Every day.  For everyone.

You swallow hard, trying to gather the shreds of your confidence and explain the lump that sits brooding on your chest.  “I didn’t anticipate this would happen.  Didn’t think ahead.”  

Steve smiles sadly, and you let him take you in his arms, kiss the top of your head and pull back to look sombrely down again.   “Y/N, you’ve been so strong.  So incredible.  And Buck and I have watched you wrestle with this thing, amazed.  Proud of your will to find a way.  It should have made you crazy long ago and I get it.  I do.  This feels like too much.  This one extra thing.”  

Your nodding, realizing that if anyone does understand it’s him. Steve lived with chronic illness.  Several of them in fact.  Asthma. Heart arrhythmia. Scoliosis. Anaemia.  Ulcers.  All of them had plagued him for most of the twenty-five years before the serum.

You’ve been in the fight for not even two.  

“But what am I going do?” you whisper a little mournfully.   If you have to you’ll wear your sweatpants.  Maybe you can cut them off?  Maybe you can cut the arms off your tops?  They’ll look hideous but you won’t broil like a lobster in a pot.  “Can we butcher something that already fits?”

“No, Y/N, not necessary.”  Steve checks his watch and glances to the lightweight packs stacked neatly by the door. “T minus six hours.  There’s lots of time.  I’m packed and so is Buck.  Betcha we can get you stuff and be back by two.”

“Stuff?”  Does he realize what he’s saying?  Four days worth of clothes?  When you need every little thing?

Bucky, curls in behind, chuckling at the incredulity in your tone. “We all can do it baby.  In record time.  And the one of us with taste will even help you pick outfits.”

“Hey!”  Steve, mock-affronted, swats him on the rear.  

From your safe spot in the middle of the sandwich you heave a sigh. Perhaps just a suit and top and shorts would be enough.  The weekend’s casual.  You can get away without a dress.  Survive being seen in the same clothes for days.  The guys do it on missions all the time and heck, Clint lives in black and purple. And Thor in red and silver.

Bucking up your courage, you scrub the wet from your cheeks and are about to acquiesce when something Steve said pings.  

It’s Bucky who is the clothes horse.  Knows his style.  Enjoys taking risks.  Steve is simpler.  He gravitates to clean lines, simple shirts and slacks.  Nothing flashy but he appreciates well made.

He’ll accept finer things that you bring him home but if it’s left to him—it’s online all the way.  

He loathes shopping.  

With the fiery passion of a hundred suns.  

“All?” you ask, incredulous.    

“Yup.  We are team. All three of us will help.”  Steve cocks his head and stares up to the ceiling. “Jarvis can you patch me through to Tony?”

“Right away Captain.”

From above, you catch Pepper’s clear, ringing tones behind Tony’s rapid-fire, just slightly high and excited baritone “Stark’s house of mojitos and margaritas. What’s up Rogers?  We’re pre-drinking here. I’m collecting the eye-watering Hawaiian shirts and Pepper’s making me put the new toys back.”  

“Anthony!”  Pepper is mortified.  You’re blushing and Bucky barks out a laugh.  Steve’s shaking his head and grinning ear to ear, but truthfully the thought of Tony Stark tinkering with items from Frisky Friday?  

Should make all of you a little scared.

“Tony do you still have that limo?”

“Of course I do, Captain Obvious.  Bentley’s Mulsanne for eight.  Tan leather.  Naim audio and bluetooth headphones.  Retrofitted with Stark screens of course.  Whhhyyyyyy?”  

The insatiably curious head of your group absolutely has to know.

Steve grins and pops a quick kiss on your nose.  “We need it.  We’re going on an emergency shopping trip.

The reaction from two floors up is immediate.  

“Holy shit!”

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

Of course Tony calls ahead.  

You stand in the bright but not too intimidating plus size boutique attended by the solicitous and friendly owner.  She is very nice. You force yourself not to apologize, to not make excuses for your size.  It’s ridiculous.  Being not thin is not a crime.  Or a tragedy. Or even actually a choice but it is so hard to go against the conditioning of thirty years.  

Why are you letting all that crap get inside your head? Ridiculous.  Time to be positive and so you force yourself to relax and let yourself be waited on.    

The owner brings armloads of practical and pretty and flattering styles that mix and match—can be a basis to add to later.  For two hours Steve and Bucky sit in the ‘boyfriend chairs��� and help.. Steve has a black-one sugar coffee, Bucky has a latte and his phone is in his hand. He’s helpfully checking for the latest styles..offering opinions as you come out and model each new thing.   They’re both laughing and joking, trash talking each other’s sense of style and seemingly enjoying the experience as you try on an entire wardrobe.  Two bathing suits, two shorts, navy capris, four tops, one light coverup and two sundresses.   In basic colours that all go together and will get you at least through a week with washing once.

“That’s enough,” you insist, feeling a bit tired and hot from all the changing, wondering what the damage to your credit card will be.  You haven’t worked since all this landed down.  And though Stark Industries has great disability insurance, you feel like you shouldn’t go too nuts.

“But you should have one tank, I think” the owner adds, frowning thoughtfully at all the cap-sleeved tees.  “In case there is a day that is very hot.”

Hmm. She has a point.  The weekend is slated to go from broiling to thermonuclear, but you’d steered away from thinner straps, a little worried at how they’d look.

“Go for it, Y/N!”  Bucky enthuses and Steve nods encouragingly and so you warily take a few wider banded versions into the dressing room.  Tug them down over your head, prepared for a pair of hastily stifled frowns.  

The reaction you get is not what you expect.    

Steve’s frowning, concentrating seriously like you’ve never seen, asessing the three different combinations like the fate of the world is riding on this choice. Finally he speaks up.  “I really like that one.”

You turn to give yourself a better view in the three way mirror.  The actually super comfortable white shorts have a broad waistband that flexes gently and doesn’t bind.  They’re topped by a just slightly flared, surprisingly flattering tank in black with grey overstitching.   Modern and sleek, it moves with you–and as you move Steve’s nodding.  

You glance back at Buck.  His head is tilted, long hair falling across his face as he peruses the combo with as much consideration as he gives a gun.  Which means serious consideration.  “The shape is great, Y/N, but the colour isn’t right.”  He rises up and heads unerringly for the rack it came from, picking out the same top in pale shell pink and walking back, holding it up against your shoulder.  “I think this is better against your colouring.“

You’re amazed.  Now that is getting into the spirit of the thing but still you bite your lip, thinking black is more neutral, but what do you have to lose? Why not try?

When you return and show it off, Steve smiles and the owner looks admiringly at Bucky and nods her head. “You are exactly right Mr. Barnes and pink is this summer’s colour.”

He is right, it’s a warmer tone and makes your skin look less sallow.  You feel better in it.  Surprisingly.  The top goes into the keep pile and Bucky grins, sitting down and stretching out, lacing his hands behind his head and making a face at Steve as if to say ‘I’m not the one to steer you wrong.’  

The gesture gets Steve’s dander up.  The game is on, and no one, no one, gets more competitive then Steve Rogers when he is the mood.  

“Try this…”  

Oh my god he’s actually picked up a sheerly pretty, ice blue strappy top from a rack, the dainty hanger looking hilariously tiny in his massive hands.   Can you wear something that—delicate?   Your brain had been kind of thinking of a heavier cover up….  

“Try it baby.”  He looks so sure of himself and Bucky’s nodding encouragingly and the owner is saying how the only rule is ‘do you like it?” and so you put it on.  The slightly ruffled asymmetric edges look sexy and cool against jean shorts and all of you agree---- it and the shorts are perfect.  

Both are to be kept but then Bucky will not be outdone.  He stalks around the shop, metal fingers quickly riffling through the wares, obviously searching for something exactly right.  

The owner hovers politely just behind.  “Mr. Barnes? Can I help.”

“Bucky,” he answers automatically.  “Nope. I will know it when I see it. 

Finally he pulls out a complicated looking fall of pale leaf green and holds it up.   It’s gorgeous.  And absolutely sexy.  A halter top that falls softly to a just slightly fuller base.   With an oval opening in the back and cut-out, slightly gathered sleeves that will leave your shoulders and upper arms quite spectacularly bare.  

You shake your head.  “I can’t.”  

“It will be perfect with your eyes.”  He’s right on that—it will bring the green highlights in your hazel eyes to life, but it’s seems waaay too revealing.  Your upper arms aren’t toned.  Your collarbones don’t show.  Your…

“Y/N?”  Steve rises and slides over to give your shoulders a quick reassuring squeeze.   His ocean eyes are pleading like a puppy dog’s.  “Please?  I’d love to see you in it.”

How can you resist both of them?

Cautiously you come back out and give a little twirl.  It’s flirty and sexy and both guys’ eyes light up right away.  

“Wow.”  

Their comment is in unison.  It is really, really nice, flirty and soft and it makes you even feel a little sexy.  Steve says he also loves the blocky heeled, buff sandals the owner has paired it with.  Bucky is raving about the stretch skinny jeans.  You frown at the size of the ‘keep’ pile.  

It’s growing.  The owner has suggested a really workable set of combinations and there is even a silky printed scarf to give one dress a little bling for evening.  

The thought of the bill is a little daunting but you do need longer pants if one evening turns out cool…

Bucky leans back in the chair and confidently crosses his arms across his chest.  “Buy it all, Y/N.”   Steve nods and gives you one of his precious sunrise smiles.   “We’re a team.  We’ll divide the bill up equally.  Don’t stint yourself.”  

That is so considerate and so very generous.  “You don’t need to…” you begin, but Steve cuts you off.   “We do.  We want you to feel comfortable and relaxed in what you wear, too feel confident.   We can afford it,” he adds and Bucky laughs. 

“Easily.  All he ever buys is paint and vinyl records.”

Steve rolls his eyes.  “And all he ever buys is knives and books.”  

True.  But not necessarily a reason for them to spoil you.  

Bucky turns and takes your hand in his metal one, raises it to his lips and plants a kiss, cementing the argument with one last, cajoling grin.  “After all you’ve been through don’t you think you deserve a treat?”  

Your heart melts a little bit.  Well. Then.  

The loot is packaged up and rung through while you change into a sundress and leave the baggy sweats behind.

Outside the limousine driver nods appreciatively when you climb into the butter soft back seats with what feels like a mountain of tissue-covered packages.  It’s Barry. The soft spoken, grey bearded gentleman who had taken you to the rare doctor visits neither Steve or Buck could attend.  

“Miss Y/N, you look lovely. So nice to see you looking well.”  

Wow.

“Did you pay him?” you hiss to Bucky as you follow a laden Steve up into to the steel cocoon of the private elevator.

“Nope, doll, I sure didn’t.”

-------

Once you are ensconced back in your room again, the guys go off to see if Pepper needs any help while you take another run at packing.  There’s no time to triage.  All the small things that don’t fit are unceremoniously bundled by the armload and stuffed into bags to store.  You set the small suitcase on the bed and start to transfer the new items in.  Dresses and pants on the bottom.  Tops and shorts and smalls rolled up to make up space.  Your toiletries go next.  And then your meds.  Six pills a day on top of the injection.  It comes with its own travel pack—freezer bag to keep it cool, mini disposal for the cartridges.  You tuck in your flip flops and eye the new sandals that Steve liked so much.  Should you bring them?  Will there be a chance to wear them?  Can you walk in heels for long after a year of bunny slippers 

Will anyone notice with Nat’s and Maria’s killer bodies in swimsuits?  

With Pepper in her perfect three inch heels?  

Who are you kidding?  They are all so gorgeous and thin and fit and you are white like a beluga whale. Of course all of them will be so nice, will go out of their way to make positive, encouraging remarks.  Of course Thor, oblivious, will make booming allusions to some obscure ancient goddess of fertility. Of course Tony, overcompensating, will ridiculously call you Marilyn, and Raquel and.. and…

Your courage throws a wobbly.  

You are wearing the new sundress with the yellow print.  It’s presentable and even pretty but turning now in front of the long length mirror that you’ve avoided looking in for months, you see it.  

The rolls that dip and dive along your back.  The bow outward of the bodice where your stomach sags.  Even with this being size XL. 

Dissolving onto the nearby bench, you place your hands across your face and struggle not to cry.  You love the Stark Beach House.  It was actually the place you first realized the months long flirtation with the Avengers’ supersoldiers was more than a bit of harmless fun.  Under hazy stars and moon, the softest of night breezes, you’d raised your cocktail to your lips and caught their eyes meet in glance.  Accept the truth.  Find the courage to admit.

They’d fallen.  For you, just as you had for them, and no matter how complicated, how messy it is to be three they wanted this.  The whole world knew Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are an item.  Indivisible and forged like steel by the vicissitudes of life. It just didn’t know they felt incomplete without a third.  Someone softer.   Who could fill in the chips and hollows, let them focus on something other than themselves. 

One different man came out of Greenland’s ice.  

One different man came out of Siberia’s wastes.  

Both of them understand in their DNA how hard it is to start again. That you are mourning.  For a life that is irrevocably changed.   No one’s breathed a word of you returning to work as yet but you know it will be hard.  Some mornings you’ve staggered into the common room, dopey from the night time meds and poured coffee into your orange juice.   Some weeks doctor visits and movies dates are equally lost in fog.  

Steve says not to worry, take baby steps, understand that pain builds fatigue and fatigue leads to forgetfulness but then you think of the insanely together, curvy woman with the photographic memory and talent for keeping track of every tiny detail.

Gone.  

You will never be that woman again..

You hang your head and cry.

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

  “Y/N?!”  

It’s Bucky.  He’s walking in, probably coming to see how soon you will be done and it doesn’t help. “I’m sorry. Sorry..I just…”  

He’s leaning over your half-zipped bag, biting his lip, one tendril of sable hair sweeping across his cheek.  Perfect dimple and chiselled jaw darkened by just a day or so of stubble.  

The sight catches at your breath.  

How?  How could so gorgeous, sexy a man want me??   How could Steve?  Painted golden as a perfect sunrise.  Inside and out.

The tears leak out again.  

Confused, surprised, you think, at the waterworks. Bucky straightens up.  “Baby what’s wrong?”  

You wave your hands at your body.  “You can’t find me attractive like this!   You both are so perfect and I look so…“  

Fat.  

The word is clinically quite simple but in practise it is so complicated. All too often meant to demean.  Trolls on the internet toss it negligently when they want to put someone down. ‘Fat slob.’ “Cow.’  ‘Porky’ may be gentler but the message is the same.  Appearance is all.    As if weight happens because you’re slovenly.  Or stupid.  Or worth less than someone else.  

It is so wrong but thinking judgementally is very so hard to banish when you’ve been bombarded by it for almost thirty years 

“Different..?”   Bucky’s eyebrows crash together into a familiar line of hurt.  “Y/N is that what you think our love is about?”  

“No. No!!’ you exclaim, mortified.  “I know you love me. I just..”  A little voice inside your head says ‘be honest. It’s the only way this will work.’

“I don’t want you to want me any less.”  

There.  You’ve said it.  In a whisper because it feels so unworthy.  Insignificant, when they’ve fought so hard to be together.  

But this worry has been clawing like a rat at your brain since the day you stopped being in so much pain.

Before nothing mattered but relief.  Now you feel better.  Mostly. You should want your guys, and the days you don’t feel so crap you sort of do.  

But there has been no sign of anything other than care and concern from them.  

Bucky’s face is a kaleidoscope of emotions.  Unsure of what he’ll do, you hold your breath, watch him sigh and cross over to the door. “Stevie, pal, can you come here?”  

He walks back to you with the saddest smile.  Warm and cool fingers hold your cheeks as he leans down to place a kiss upon your brow.   Hands glide down to rest upon your shoulders--the metal one, thanks to Shuri’s tech, barely heavier than the right.  

“Nothing.  Nothing could ever make me love you or want you any less.  Nothing.”  Bucky punctuates each word with a little shake.  “Wasn’t I the one who first noticed that exuberant, sexy smile?  Convinced Steve to take a chance?”  

You nod hesitantly.  He had been, and flirted too.  Hilariously. Brazenly.  You’d been so shocked.  It wasn’t until Steve ‘my tongue ties when I have to talk to women’ Rogers was enthralled, quizzing you about your peripatetic upbringing as unofficial assistant to globe-trotting famous scientist parents that you accepted it might be real.  He had touched your arm so casually and easily, fingers brushing lingeringly as he passed over a new drink, smile quirking just a touch seductively.

Magic.  And utterly irresistible.

It felt a lifetime between then and now, but in truth it was just three years.  

Steve arrives, exchanges an almost telepathic glance with Buck and quickly picks up the gist, reads the situation like a book as only he can do.  He leans in to hold his hand against your cheek, while the other cradles loosely at Bucky’s waist.  “You look beautiful.  And edible…” The feather touch wills a little of his certainty to seep in.  “Y/N, what makes you think that only one size is sexy?”  The genuinely bewildered tone usually reserved for odd parts of disco culture comes out.  This is one of the things that gets Steve’s dander up.  Disappoints him that it hasn’t progressed after seventy years of nap.  “That is flat out wrong.   Bigger or smaller, anything outside the ‘norm’ is bad. It’s crap.”

“Girls don’t get criticized for being skinny,” you blurt, not quick enough to block it in.  You flush, but in your defense.. it is true.  “There is no such thing as too thin for the magazines.”

“Screw the magazines,” Mr. ‘fight me’ growls.  “No one should be criticized for their body shape.”  

Bucky’s nodding.  “It is so demeaning.  In our time girls were made to feel inadequate for not being built like Rita Hayworth.  Flat chested was considered a disaster.  Guys were ragged on if they weren’t built like George Atlas.”  His gaze turns serious and he pulls you little circle closer, prosthetic hand tight on Steve’s shoulder, hair swaying back and forth as he vigorously shakes his head.  “That just isn’t how attraction works.  I have loved and wanted Steve since he was tiny as a matchstick.  So emaciated his hip bones fucking hurt when we were fucking.”

You gasp at the explicitness of the imagery.  Oh lord.  Yes that paints a picture.  Bucky grins and looks adoringly up at his boyfriend.  “I wanted him anyway.”

Steve drops a searingly hot kiss onto Buck’s lips before tearing his own away.  “You did.   Every day and twice on Sundays.”

This is not an earth-shattering revelation.  Bucky is the one with the raging libido.  ‘Hair trigger’ describes pretty much every part of him and honestly, you’d been too.   Before.  It was Steve who sometimes had too much in his head to play. Could not let the day’s anxieties quite go.  Wound himself in strategy until it took two to pull him down—a lion and lioness on their prey.  

The pair of them sexy snarking once again feels so good.  It’s been on hard mute of late.  

Steve runs a thumb thoughtfully across your lower lip.   “He loved and wanted me.  As I was..  Just like I love him for him.  And love you for you.”  The thumb trails down and deliberately runs along your collarbone, leaving precious, welcome little shivers in its wake.  “Y/N you are so sexy.  In every way. Every bit of you.  There is nothing to be unsure about.  You— curvy as you are,   you are perfect.   If we’ve held back from showing you, it’s because we didn’t want to pressure you into something if you weren’t ready.”  

Of course he has it exactly right.  Before, the constant pain and migraines had demolished your libido.  Constant worrying about you had killed theirs.  Bucky takes a deeper breath, leans in to leave a trail of butterfly kisses on your shoulder.  “I’m sorry we didn’t speak up sooner.  There is no way that you could look that would stop us wanting you.”    

He is reading your mind again—seeing that you worry your condition will change with time.  Relapse. It’s hard to entirely banish that fear.   “I’m not gonna go back the way I was,” you say forlornly.  

Steve hums and buzzes a sympathetic kiss upon your neck.  “Mhmmm.  The drug’s changed your metabolism… My serum won’t change either. Or Buck’s.”

“Don’t be so sure with Hydra tech,” Bucky mutters below his breath and Steve rolls his eyes expressively.   “The point is our change is permanent too.”

“But that’s not the same!”  You’re trying to not let your mouth hang wide open.  “You are both perfect since your change.  You’re gorgeous!”  

“So are you.”  Steve punctuates each word with a kiss.  “I get it, sweetheart, I really do. I don’t always love this body either.  Sometimes it just feels like a freak show, but I’ve learned to accept it’s me.”  

Steve? A freak?  This is not an adjective you associate him with.  He’s gorgeous.  Stunning. A perfect specimen of masculinity and that he wouldn’t be utterly thrilled to step into a machine and come out magically a new man has never occurred to you.  You know it hurt.  That he suffered for it.  But the change was absolutely for the better.

“But you’re strong?  And healthy now?!” you exclaim.

“Yes, and god knows it’s better than being sick all of the damn time but it isn’t me. In my head I’m still the matchstick.  There are days when I get caught off guard.  Feel big and clumsy.  And it’s not always such a thrill.”  He pulls a pouty face.  “Can’t turn off the heat that makes you two cuddle on the other side of the bed without me.”  

Bucky bumps him in the hip.  “Awww.  Rogers, you are such a sap.”  

“Unh hunh, well I’m your sap, pal. Forever.”  Steve reaches across your shoulder to kiss Buck’s cheek but then his eyes darken seriously.  “I am hungry all the goddamn time.  And it’s a crazy waste of money to buy custom everything.  Even T-shirts for crissake.”

That makes you smile.  It’s hard to take the frugal Irish boy of the Depression out of the modern man. “I kinda like it when you don’t and wear them a little tight.”  

Bucky grins and nods.  “And your pants.”   It is Steve’s turn to bump playfully at his boyfriend’s hip. “What?” Bucky’s eyes are wide and innocent.  He turns to you and becomes more serious, letting go Steve’s waist, turning his metal hand and flexing the matt black plates.  “I get it, too.  It is not easy to become used to looking different.  Took me ages to accept my arm.”   You nod a little hesitantly. You were not there when he first came back, broke his conditioning to seek out the man he loved, beyond time and all the cycles of the world. “I wanted to hack this thing right off.  Felt as if it wasn’t me.  I still catch myself in the mirror, seeing that, despite Shuri’s good work, I’m half a cyborg with a mass of scars.”  His tone turns low and serious.  “Do you find my naked body unattractive?”  

You gasp, appalled, reaching to catch his hand.  “No! Oh god, Buck no! It’s sexy as hell.  And your scars, they’re badges of bravery!”  

His eyebrow quirks.  “Yeah, love you babe for saying so but let’s be real.  I am a mass of metal and red keloid scar tissue.  Lots of it.  It’s not exactly conventional beauty pitched in the papers or TV.”  His flesh fingers dig into the junction of the prosthesis with his pec. “The internal struts at one time went in here.  The Wakandan version is far lighter and easier but I feel it still.“  

“Buck.”   Steve’s reaches to squeeze his left bicep as Bucky sighs and then his eyes drop to catch your gaze. “It’s taken a lot of time for me to feel it’s a part of me. Accept that I am sexy with it.  Give yourself time.  You will feel it too.  There is no one size or shape for sexy.”

Steve is nodding.  “There sure isn’t.  You both look beautiful.  And I love you beyond reasoning.”  He holds your hand but leans toward Bucky, wanting to support him too.   There’s just a hint of mischevious glitter in blue eyes and his voice is rough with sudden desire. ’I remember the feel of your left arm.  But I love the one that is here right now. ”  

You watch them kiss.  Soft lips meet at first gently and then hungrily, deepening the kiss until it is a barely reigned flame of need.  So enticing. And arousing.  As always the sight leaves you breathless.  The black and gold of the prosthesis is cool below your fingertips and little arcs of light sparkle in the pale gold of Steve’s soft hair.    

They were first.  The foundation.  But you are here now, a solid point of the triangle, and you know it, yet sometimes, as now, you feel the need to let them be.   They’ve been holding off because of you, and you’re uncertain you feel ready for attention yet.  

As you start to slip below the circle of their arms, a hand snakes out.

“No, no, no. Don’t you go anywhere, Y/N.”  Bucky has broken off their kiss, moved lightening quick to cut you off.  He turns your shoulders to face Steve, runs a hand encouragingly along your arm, lacing your fingers in his own.  Steve is smiling, slow and sultry, right at you, a wall of blast-furnace warm and sexy muscle, wedged almost touching right in front.  

Your body sings.  It remembers this, being caught between dark fire and golden glow.  Celebrated.  Revered. Taken to dizzying heights and a now melting grows in your core that you haven’t felt for months.

Perhaps it is that they are right.  You can, in time, adjust.  

And they will show you every hour of every day how much they love all of the woman that you are.

You let yourself fall back upon the bed when a hand with freckled pushes gently on your chest.  So many hands.  Pale. Black-gold.  Irish fair and English tawny warm.  Somehow Bucky has caught you as you fall.  Your head is in his lap.  His blue-green eyes are sparkling just above and one hand is palming, lightly, gently, at the nipple peaked below your dress.  It feels right.  And good. Home, after too long away, and then Steve crawls up the bed, lays himself warm and pliant between your legs. Grinning broadly, excitement glowing in his gaze.  His hands lift the cotton of the hem, ruch the pale yellow flowers up to see a view of your new lemon thong.  

A blond eyebrow raises. “T-2 hours before we go.  Time enough to change into another pretty dress?”

Oh god.  

“Yes.”  

So yes.  

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

tags: @winters-beauty @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan  @theycallmebecca @mewsiex@emilyevanston @mycapt-ohcapt  @pegasusdragontiger  @badassbaker @heather-lynn @saffreelove @loricameback @nomadicpixel@missfirstavenger @prplprincez @marvel-lucy

[neganandblake]

I think I liked you better when you didn’t have a knife in your hand...Chapter 71- Number one of six?

When Blake finds herself sold out to the Saviours by her abusive fiancé, she realises that she's certainly not on her own anymore and finds an unlikely friend in Negan. And Negan does NOT like men who beat their girlfriends, one tiny bit….

MASTERLIST

Chapter 71 - Number one of six?

[Negan and Blake have a talk about things that need to be addressed.]

Warnings:mentions of smut/nsfw/dirty talk/swearing]

Blake lay back against the cool sheets, as Negan's tanned arms curled around her shoulders, pulling her firmly into him.

She was still, at this moment in time, in her pale blue cotton dress, as the dark-haired Saviour beside her, lay back, his grey jeans still undone, with his now-satisfied cock sagging from his zipper, with his heavy black boots still on.

Blake had sucked him, hearing him emit copious amounts of swear words from his lips, as his fingers had tangled into her hair urgently. Her tongue had licked expertly at his length and it wasn't surprising that the bearded man had not lasted very long, grunting out harshly, before cumming hard into her mouth, sending a hot streams of ejaculate over her tongue, dousing her throat slickly.

Blake now, turned her body into his, feeling him let out a heavy sigh, as she pressed her face into his tanned collarbone.

"Why the fuck haven't we been doin' that since the first day I fuckin' met you, Sweetheart?" uttered the dark haired Saviour reaching up and dragging his free hand down his face lazily.

But Blake just pressed a smile into his skin, her digits reaching up and coming to rest upon his lean, hair-smattered torso.

"Well I was otherwise spoken for at the time," she murmured, closing her eyes lethargically. "…and you have five wives. So…"

She heard Negan give a chuckle, readjusting the position of his arm around her momentarily, his thumb rubbing circles against her bare skin.

"Even fuckin' so," he uttered with a small scoff, glancing down at her. "Now that was good fuckin' foreplay we could've been enjoyin' for at least the last couple of months, by now."

Blake smirked, lifting her head up and staring down at him bemusedly, raising an eyebrow.

"That was just foreplay, huh?" she inquired, a smirk dancing its way across her features now.

But the dark-haired Saviour just sighed and gave a cocky shrug of his broad shoulders, closing his eyes contentedly.

"Yup," he replied matter-of-factly. "That, was just round fuckin' one, Princess. Daddy's got at least another couple of sessions in him before sun-up."

Blake let out a small laugh, lifting herself up into sitting position, facing him now, as he opened a single chocolate eye, peering up at her.

For a moment neither of them said anything, with Blake staring down, toying with the sheets beneath her as Negan merely stared back at her for the longest time, his eyes roving across her face. Before Blake finally, after an age, opened her mouth to speak.

"Thanks…f-for all this…" she said, her eyes finally flickering up and meeting with his again. "This is the first time since I can remember, that my birthday's been more than just a single five dollar bookstore gift-certificate from my aunt."

Negan remained blank-faced for a long moment, taking in every inch of her pink cheeks, before he finally parted his own lips…reaching his hand out and snatching up hers.

"You're welcome, Darlin'," uttered the bearded man, bringing her hand to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss to her smooth knuckles affectionately.

This was certainly a different side of Negan that Blake had never seen before. Vulnerable…caring…sweet…

Blake pursed her lips offering him a coy grin, giving the slightest of perplexed frowns. And it wasn't a second later, that she had moved over him, her hand still in his, coming to sit on his lap.

Negan, with his member still hanging from his pants, and Blake with no panties on, could feel how precarious and teasing this position was, but Blake would play this game anyway, straddling him, as her hands fell to his abdomen.

"You know I never had you down for the caring type," she said biting down slowly on her lip as she smiled down at him.

Negan quirked an eyebrow up, his hands moving to her bare thighs now, his digits tensing around her soft skin.

"Well shit, sweetheart," he said with a goading grin, showing off his line of perfect white teeth. "I mean, don' start spreadin' it around. I've got a fuckin' reputation to uphold."

Blake gave a small giggle, blinking down at him.

"So does that mean we have to keep whatever this is on the down-low when we get back to the Sanctuary?" she said, pointing between the two of them.

But Negan just grinned that wolfish grin of his, and within the blink of an eye, with the smallest of growls leaving his throat, he had grasped Blake hard around them middle and flipped her over onto her back, coming to lean over her possessively now.

Blake let another laugh escape her lips at this, as Negan pinned her against the mattress, and began to press hot open-mouthed kisses to her throat, his fingers threading through hers, either side of her shoulders.

"Well, I mean, I've had mistresses in the past, Darlin', but none I've wanted to screw on a nightly basis," he mused, almost humming the words into her skin.

Blake rolled her eyes, letting out the smallest of tuts at his words.

"And monogamy's not an option for you, is it?" she asked, with the smallest of frowns gracing her brow now.

But Negan's hands slid from hers, instead gliding up her slender sides, causing her dress to ride up slightly at her thighs, as he pressed another firm kiss to her collarbone.

"Well shit, I mean I've already suggested you take the spot of wife numero uno, Peaches," he murmured easily, his gaze remaining fixed upon her chest, rising and falling before him as he peppered it with kisses.

But Blake, whose eyes were now on the ceiling above, pursed her lips.

"Maybe I don't want to share," she mumbled back, her heart starting to beat hard now. "I mean, would it really be impossible for me to be the only one who gets to be with you?"

Her throat was dry now and a painful lump appeared in the back of her throat making it hard to swallow.

And this was made no better by the low chuckle that followed from Negan's lips.

"Well I have a fuckin' feelin' my other wives might have somethin' to say about that," he murmured into her throat.

But at his words Blake couldn't help but bristle.

She was silent for a long moment, as she turned her head away from him slightly, coming to face the stark wall to her right.

She wanted so much right now to tell him how she felt….the way she had felt for a long time.

But it was likely useless…

From the sounds of it, maybe she was just a passing fancy to him…a bit of fun until he moved onto the next woman…or back to one of the ones he already had.

Maybe one night she would be sent back to her own room and told that he wanted Tanya in bed with him tonight…or Michelle….or Amber…

Her heart sank completely as she dwelled on this now, licking gently at her lips.

He was never going to give them up…not for her at least…that was the reality of this whole situation.

But Negan, who had obviously noticed her lingering silence and lack of a reply, stopped in his kisses and lifted himself up of off her, propping himself with his hands, that were now pressed to the space either side of her head.

"Everythin' alright, Doll?" he asked with the smallest of frowns gracing his tanned brow, peering down at her questioningly.

But at this, Blake shook herself slightly, giving a hurried nod.

She knew the score. And for her own benefit she needed to face facts. This was fun. Just a bit of fun and would be good while it lasted. But it couldn't go on forever and Blake would need to brace herself for the day to finally come, where she would be dismissed just like all his other wives…traded in for the next model in the store.

For in this world. there was no time to have feelings like the ones currently bubbling up inside her. and she needed to remember that.

"Yeah….fine…" Blake breathed, taking in a short sharp breath of air, steadying herself.

But Negan eased himself from her, coming to rest at her side, his frown heavier now that it had been just a moment ago.

"Don't give me that shit, Peaches," he said as Blake felt another small gulp slide down her throat. "I can tell when a gal's pissed at me."

But it was Blake's turn now to give a frown of her own, suddenly pushing herself up into a sitting position and tucking a strand of long caramel hair behind her ear.

"I'm not pissed at you, Negan," she tutted, smoothing down her dress and staring around, trying to act as uncaring as possible right now.

But Negan too, sat up to face her, his eyes on her face.

"Darlin'," he began with a heavy sigh, taking in her look and tilting his long face to the side, surveying her carefully. "I ain't a kid. An' I know when I'm in the fuckin' doghouse…"

But Blake merely pursed her lips, and looked away.

She hated the fact that he could read her so well sometimes.

"…is this because of me talkin' about my goddamn wives…'cause if it is-" he said shaking his head…

But Blake cut-across him before he had the chance to finish his sentence.

"No…" she lied, toying with the hem of her dress absent-mindedly. "…i-it's not…..I know the score…."

But Negan gave a harsh laugh at this, suddenly lifting his rough hand to her chin.

"Hey," he said suddenly drawing her gaze up to his once more. "Darlin,' there ain't been any fuckin' score ever since you woke up in my fuckin' cell and back-talked the fuck outta me."

His chocolate eyes were honest now, frowning hard, gazing into Blake's green orbs trying as hard as he could to say communicate something wordlessly to her.

Something important….

But it was only a second more that the dark-haired man spoke again…and the moment was gone….that silent confession disappearing as quickly as it had come.

"But….like I said, I've got a goddamn reputation to uphold back there, Darlin'" he said suddenly shaking his head, looking troubled, letting go of her face, and instead, running a hand down his tired features. "Those women….we had an agreement….I can't just….I mean, it ain't that fuckin' simple anymore…I gotta be seen to be the one in power, Doll-face…"

Blake immediately let her eyes drop to her lap once again, nodding hurriedly, but her stomach was churning with utter jealousy now…a pain coursing through her body, hard and fast.

She had been right. There were no fairy-tales in this world. Just a hard and cold reality.

A reality where she wouldn't fall pregnant, where she wouldn't have Mia….and where she wouldn't have Negan….well, not totally, anyway.

"It's fine," she said repeating her words from earlier. "Really. Its fine."

But both of them could tell it wasn't, right now.

"Listen," said Blake, quickly moving over to the edge of the mattress and hopping up onto her bare feet. "I-I need some air…."

But Negan merely stared up at her.

"Peaches…" he began in a low, yearning voice… but Blake just stared up at him finally, flashing a forced and fixed smile onto her face encouragingly.

"It's ok…..really, I…uh…I just need to pee," she uttered matter-of-factly with a small nod, brushing down the back of her dress, as Negan got to his own feet, doing up his zipper and rethreading his belt at his waist.

"Want me to come out there with ya?" he asked in a gruff tone, moving around the bed to meet her near to the narrow doorway. "I can hold the flashlight….'case you get lost?"

But Blake just smiled, this time a little bit more realistically than the last, chewing on her lip as she did so.

"I can pee in the dark, Negan, ," she said in a faux-reprimanding voice, with a short shake of her head, feeling his hand reach the small of her back as she moved back into the large living area of the RV. "I'll be fine. I'll only like two minutes top, ok?."

She could see Negan wasn't particularly happy with having her go outside alone, his tongue poking into the side of his cheek, his jaw clenched tightly. But it wasn't as though Blake was a rookie in these types of situations. Unlike the other women in his life, his wives, Blake had spent a long time out there…surviving….

Not that she was bitter or anything. She liked those women.

And yet why now, could she not seem to get this horrible feeling of utter jealousy out of her head?

She didn't even bother slipping on shoes, moving over to the door to the RV easily. If walkers came she would be quicker barefoot than she would with silly strappy sandals on anyway.

But before she could reach for the door-handle, she felt a firm hand at her waist tug her back around.

It was of course Negan, his chocolate gaze boring into hers, and before she knew it, he had closed the gap between the pair of them, tugging her body flush with his possessively.

But he gave an uncharacteristic sigh, closing his eyes for the slightest of second before peering down at her, that frown still littering his tanned brow.

"Listen, Darlin', I told myself, hell, I told you, I wasn't gonna ask you this again…but..." he said his voice quiet now….growling out from his throat.

He licked at his lips for a long drawn out second, before finally speaking again…his words coming far slower this time.

"…be one of my wives, Peaches…" he uttered, his tone almost pleading with her.

But Blake gave a gulp as she stared back up at him.

There he was, standing there offering her protection, a home, security…

But this wasn't what she wanted.

And so Blake left her eyes fall from his…. as she slowly and surely shook her head.

"No…" she murmured out, suddenly turning on her bare heel and giving the door behind her a swift shove open…

…stepping lout into the warm, late-evening air…

The door slammed back in Negan's face as Blake left the RV.

But his dark brown eyes were fixed to the space ahead of him now, the space where the caramel-blonde woman of his fucking dreams had been standing just a mere moment ago.

Fuck.

What the fuck had he done?

He had pushed her away…and why?

Because it wasn't because he wanted to keep his wives close or keep any stupid fucking promises that he'd made to them that was for sure.

If he wanted to get of them, he would ,in fucking heartbeat, because with or without the women in his godforsaken harem, Negan was still a fucking powerhouse, and was still the leader of the Saviours. He was dangerous and terrifying and he didn't need to have wives to prove that.

But there was another reason. A reason that fucking terrified him like nothing else in this fear-inducing world ever had.

For getting rid of his wives would never be a weakness for Negan.

But keeping Blake was.

SHE was his weakness…by a country fucking mile.

She was perfection to him. And he had not been lying when he had told her that things had changed back at the Sanctuary from the moment Blake had turned up there, and flipped everything he had onto its head.

He knew deep down that he hadn't felt this way about anyone since Lucille.

But with every moment he spent with her, showing her favour above any of the wives he had failed to show any attention to over these last few months, he was straying into dangerous territory.

For the dark-haired Saviour knew full well, that it wouldn't take long for one of his enemies or even his allies to cotton onto the fact that she was his entire fucking world.

All they would have to do was use her as leverage and he would be screwed. Everything he had worked so hard gone, just like that.

And if anything happened to her…

Negan gave a gulp now as he thought on this.

If only he could make her see, that by her just slotting neatly in with his wives…cloaking her from view…that she would be safe and that way she could be his…for good.

And he wouldn't need to worry.

But he knew her too well now. He knew she was going to say no again.

For a queen like her, was worth more than that, and he knew it.

And the longer this went on…the more it was going to tear them apart again.

Negan lingered there for a long moment, letting out a long huff of air and dragged his hand down his face.

He was screwed.

But all he could do now was turn around and heading back into the bedroom, running a hand down his long, tanned face as he did so….awaiting Blake's return…

Blake trudged through the undergrowth nearby, trying as hard as she could to see her way through the ever-darkening trees.

She did not need to pee, but with a busted bathroom in the RV, at least she had the excuse to come out here, giving her some time alone with her thoughts.

She was always going to have said no to him….to his offer of becoming a wife. Just like she always had.

And her feelings for him, rather than make the proposition better, just made it so much worse.

It would kill her to sit in that room in a skimpy dress, day in day out, like some sort of trophy.

And to see him come in one day and not choose her, well it would truly destroy her from the inside out. Blake could feel her heart thudding in her chest even now when she thought about it.

If that was the only way, then she would rather not have him at all….

But did she have a choice in this anymore? Or was this an ultimatum now?

Become one of his wives or let that be it. For good? After all they had been through?

Blake sucked In a breath sharply, coming to stop a little way away from the truck now, leaning up against a tree.

She could see it there even in the dim light, tall and looming…the vehicle that contained the most dangerous man she had ever met.

And yet that same man had saved in her in so many ways….

The caramel-blonde woman let out a faint, shuddering breath, blinking up at the RV.

Her mind racing now at a mile a minute…as he heart pounded against her ribcage.

But Blake had barely been stood there for a couple of seconds, when there came a sudden rustling behind her.

Blake was used to walkers now, but with no weapons on her at all and poor visibility, she knew she needed to get back the RV, and fast…

…but before she could do so, a sudden hand was clamped over her mouth…

Blake yelled out, but behind the dirty palm, nothing could be heard, as a pair of strong arms grabbed her around the middle….pining down her limbs roughly….as the dank smell of sweat and dirt and death filled her nostrils…

…but Blake could barely scrabble at the soft dirt underfoot with bare feet...

…before she was dragged swiftly away…back into the darkened undergrowth beyond…

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged/untagged in this fic. More coming soon…

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[dragonshost]

Fandom: Fairy Tail Pairing: Mard Geer x Lucy Word Count: 3,000 words

Eventually, anyway.  This fic focuses mostly on the relationships between Celestial Spirits and their key holders.

It’s A New World It’s A New Start It’s Alive With The Beating Of Young Hearts It’s A New Day It’s A New Plan

-Bryan Adams “Here I Am”

Lucy raised her arm high, Fleuve D'Etoiles clenched firmly in the same hand. "And here's what you get for thinking Celestial Wizards and their Spirits are weak!" she shouted, snapping her arm down as hard as she could. Fleuve D'Etoiles' length lashed out, brilliant blue with golden sparks dancing. The bandit it was aimed at squeaked in alarm, scrambling backwards only to fall over the upraised tree roots that surrounded them. The whip sailed harmlessly over his head as he grinned and then rolled to his feet.

"That all you got, girly?!" he mocked, snapping his fingers. "Pitiful - is this really all your kind are capable of? Even your little spirit lackeys got so fed up with you they abandoned you!" Iridescent bubbles formed all around him. Lucy knew from experience that despite their rainbow sheen and innocent appearance, those things were made of a rather nasty variety of acid that burned away all it touched. Her clothes had already faced the brunt of his previous assault, and were now hanging in tatters off her form. Acid burns dotted her skin, and made every movement painful.

But there was no way she was going to let this moron get the best of her. She had the reputation of Fairy Tail to protect! And no one got away insulting her bond with her Spirits. No one.

To the bandit's great surprise, Lucy grinned back at him. "Maybe instead of insulting me, you should have been paying more attention to my whip!" Far too late for him to react, Lucy yanked her arm backwards. Her whip's coils tightened around the bandit's feet, where Fleuve D'Etoiles had been resting after Lucy's initial attack, pulling the ruffian off his feet. "And who said my spirits were gone?! Sagittarius, hit him where it hurts!"

"As you wish, my lady!" the archer replied from his perch high in a nearby tree. "Goodbye and farewell, fiend!"

The bandit screamed in terror as a barrage of arrows fell like rain all around him, pinning him thoroughly to the ground and bursting his acidic bubbles with soft hisses.

Lucy gave her Spirit a thumbs up. "That was great, Sagittarius! Thank you!"

He bowed low, leaving Lucy to wonder how the horse head part of his costume didn't send him careening forward off the tree branch with its bulk and weight. "A pleasure to serve, as always!"

She giggled at him. "You can go back if you want, now. Thanks again for the help."

As he straightened from his bow, Sagittarius gave Lucy a fond smile. "Then until we say hello again!" Disappearing in a shimmer of golden sparkles, he departed back for his world. His golden gate - clearly visible to Lucy's inner eye - shut firmly behind him.

Her attention returned to the catatonic bandit, and Lucy set about trussing him up with her whip. Tying him to a gargantuan tree root, Lucy then stepped back to admire her handiwork. There was no way he was getting out of that anytime soon, even with his little acid trick.

A heavy sigh whooshed out of her as she took in her own condition. "Wonderful," Lucy grumbled to herself, picking idly at the scraps of cloth barely covering her important places. "And here I really liked that outfit, too!"

"I brought you a change of clothes, Princess," a monotonous voice piped up behind her.

"EEK!" she shrieked in surprise. Clutching her chest, Lucy breathed hard, her heart trying its utmost to escape the confines of her ribcage. "I have got to learn to get used to that." Virgo was smiling knowingly at her when she turned around. Never let it be said that Gemini was the most mischievous of Lucy's Spirits. That title belonged solely to the maid-outfit-wearing pink-haired maiden constellation. "Thank you so much, Virgo. I really appreciate you bringing me these," Lucy told her.

The space around Virgo's eyes softened as she relinquished her items. "These should help foster the healing for your burns. I included a matching set for your friend, as well."

Lucy couldn't help but smile at that. "Thanks, again! I'm sure Yukino will be very grateful you thought of her."

Virgo bowed. "If that's all, Princess, big brother is going on a rampage in the Celestial World right now. He's upset that you didn't summon him for this fight. I will inform him that you are in good health."

"That silly lion..." Lucy muttered under her breath. "Of course I didn't summon him! There's no way I'm letting a close-combat specialist anywhere near those acid bubbles." She met Virgo's gaze once more. "Tell Taurus I'm sorry, please? I should have realized sooner what they were."

"He is already recovered and is currently taunting big brother about being summoned instead of him," Virgo curtly replied. "But I shall let him know about your concern so he may wheedle big brother about that as well."

The Celestial Mage resisted the urge to facepalm at the antics of her Spirit friends only through great force of will. Also, her hands were full of clothes. "Thank you again, Virgo."

With a nod, the Spirit left in a shower of sparkles and wavering light.

Swiftly, Lucy changed her outfit using a giant tree for cover. Virgo's gift was even cuter than the destroyed outfit! After that cheerful observation, Lucy paused to glance around the dense, ancient forest. She wondered how Yukino was faring with her own opponent; at some point during their battles they had separated as Yukino took on the close range opponent and Lucy the mid-ranged one.

It had been quite the surprise to find herself on a job with her fellow Celestial Wizard, truth be told. Yukino had just shown up at the guild, job request in hand, and a glimmer of delight in her eyes as she asked Lucy to go on the job with her. With a letter of Guild Master Sting's full support in her possession as well. Master Makarov had heartily approved of the idea of inter-guild cooperation, and Lucy had been ecstatic to spend some quality time with her Sabertooth friend. Team Natsu, on the other hand, had proven quite troublesome when they insisted on coming along. It had taken both Mirajane and Makarov to hold the very dejected group of mages behind.

Lucy hadn't liked ditching her teammates for a job, but it had certainly paid off well! Now she had enough money for this month's rent, she got to do something with Yukino (even if the job had turned out to be a fighting-oriented one in the end), and nothing important had been demolished or otherwise destroyed.

All in all, she counted this as a success. Even her minor burns hurt less, thanks to the clothes from the Celestial World.

"Lucy-sama!" a high-pitched, familiar voice called in the distance. "Where are you, Lucy-sama?"

"I'm here, Yukino!" she shouted back, her own voice echoing amongst the trees.

A dull thud reached Lucy's ears. Confused, she anxiously peered around the forest. What was that noise...? It was steadily increasing in volume and pace. The leaves of the tree shook around her. Bracing herself, she crouched into a fighting position, just in case.

She was definitely not expecting a giant, bright pink, robotic teddy bear to come leaping out of the surrounding foliage. Yukino sat in one of the bear's paws, and an unconscious man was being hauled unceremoniously under it's other arm.

"I'm glad to see you're alright, Lucy-sama!" Yukino declared happily. She patted the robotic bear's arm. "Thank you for carrying me, Polaris! Can you please set me down over there?" The Celestial Spirit (apparently) gently placed its keyholder upon the ground. "Thanks again!"

It nodded, and then turned to look at Lucy.

Lucy smiled at the Spirit. "It's nice to meet you, Polaris!" she greeted. "I'm Lucy, of Fairy Tail!"

Seeming to contemplate this for a moment, it then bowed slightly.

"He's a fan," Yukino said to her. "I may have told him quite a lot about you after the Grand Magic Games..." A red tinge danced across the silver-haired woman's cheeks. "He's an Ursa Minor."

"That's fine," Lucy replied. "I'm happy you guys seem okay! So how was your fight?"

Yukino shrugged. "He didn't put up much of a challenge, to be honest. I spent most of the time wandering around looking for you."

It was Lucy's turn to flush in embarrassment. "Oh. Sorry I ended up so far away from you."

Alarm flashed through Yukino's countenance. "Oh, no, Lucy-sama! I-If anything, it was my fault..."

Lucy waved her arms in a frantic denial. "No, no, no! I should pay more attention to where I am when I fight!" She let out a nervous giggle. "This isn't the first time - once I ended up falling off a cliff because of that habit..."

A mildly awkward silence befell them.

Breaking it, Yukino suggested, "Why don't I... um... take your mage and we head back to the requester?"

Lucy nodded frantically, eager for a subject change. "Yeah, that's a great idea!"

Yukino let out a sigh of relief. Casting her gaze about, she swiftly discovered Lucy's trussed up opponent. She stared at him for a long moment. "Um... Lucy-sama?"

Nervous sweat ran down the blonde's neck. "Yeah? What is it?"

The Sabertooth mage opened her mouth to say something, only to hastily shut it. Opening her mouth again, she stuttered out, "H-he's still alive... right, Lucy-sama? He's still alive... right?"

"W-why do you ask?"

"Oh, erm..." Yukino flushed again. "It's just that he's... well, you know. Foaming at the mouth."

Lucy glanced at the man. "Yup. He... he certainly is." There was a moment's pause, before Lucy clarified, "Alive, I mean. And foaming too. He's definitely... doing that as well."

"Excellent! Splendid! Well done! Oh, this is simply delightful!"

Lucy and Yukino flushed a little under the profuse praise being heaped upon them. As requested, they had delivered the two dark mages to the local Rune Knight faction. But not before the pair had been thoroughly searched for the documents they'd stolen from the job requester, a man by the name of Ortez Vrillic: an older, portly fellow that was not very tall; he was, overall, shaped rather like a balloon. He seemed like a friendly sort, though. Deep laugh lines were etched into his face, and not once had he harassed the two women. Instead, their limited interactions with him had been full of good cheer, despite the circumstances of the theft that had led to him posting the job in the first place.

"Thank you so much for getting these back! My company has a rather important to-do coming up, and it would be a rather unfortunate affair should these have hit the market before our official announcement," he confided. "But where are my manners? I'm sure you would like to be paid for your hard work! Excuse me, George - could you please bring out the reward I had prepared? And also bring the other thing, if you would be so kind."

George, his butler, bowed. "As you wish, sir." He left the sitting room with nary a sound.

Ortez turned back to the two mages and beamed at them in delight. "I must say that I never expected mages from Sabertooth and Fairy Tail to both show up for my little job request. Let alone a pair of Celestial Mages! Your kind are getting rather rare, if I'm not mistaken."

Lucy blinked in surprise. It wasn't exactly common knowledge that Celestial Mages were all but gone. She and Yukino were both aware of that fact, of course, but this was the first time she'd heard someone outside her circle of friends voice the observation. "Yukino and I became friends during the Grand Magic Games," Lucy told him. "So we took a job together. I'm surprised you know that about Celestial Mages, though. It's not really something we advertise."

He smiled kindly at them. "Honestly, it's wonderful to hear that you're friends. Too many Celestial Mages have killed each other for power, prestige, and keys over the years." Ortez let out a heavy sigh. "To be honest, I have a bit of a personal interest in the affairs of Celestial Mages, and I've done a good deal of research on the subject myself. My grandfather was a Celestial Mage, himself... though not a very strong one. My father and I did not inherit any of his magical ability, either, I'm afraid."

"That's really interesting," Yukino stated, delighted by this news. "Did you know your grandfather well?"

"I did; I can recall many boyhood summers spent at his home." Wistfulness crossed Ortez's face. "Those were some of the best times of my life. I loved listening to all of his stories - he was once a guild mage himself. I believe he belonged to... oh what was it named again?" He contemplated it for a long minute. "I'm sorry; it seems that I can't quite recall. It was a very long time ago."

"What was his name?" Lucy asked eagerly. "I have a Spirit who we can ask." She drew out her keys, and pulled out Crux. "Crux, the Southern Cross. He's knowledgeable about all sorts of Spirits and to a limited degree, he can tell some things about who summoned them in the past."

Ortez stared at her oddly for a moment, without answering.

"Mr. Vrillic?" Lucy inquired, concerned for him. "Is something the matter?"

"...No," he finally replied. "No, I just..." He paused, and then began again, "Actually, if you would be so kind, I might have another job for you. It won't take very long, I assure you. And you would be compensated."

It was then that George returned, a briefcase in one hand and a small pouch in the other.

"Impeccable timing as always, George!" Ortez declared, his cheer suddenly returned. "I do not know how you do it. I need one more thing, however." When George nodded, he continued, "That little wooden box that I keep in my nightstand, could you bring it here?"

George seemed taken aback by the request. "Certainly, sir," he smoothly agreed a second later, schooling his features. He set the briefcase on the small table between Ortez and the two women, along with the pouch. "I shall return shortly."

"Good man, good man!" Ortez smiled as his manservant departed once more. "Really, no one better than George at taking care of me. Now, the briefcase contains your agreed upon payment for the job, and the pouch there is a little something extra I decided to throw in when you both first showed up." He gestured at them enthusiastically. "Please, please take a look."

Curious, Lucy and Yukino both regarded the pouch. It appeared old, and was crafted from very fine leather worn from use. Yukino reached out to the object first. "It is very soft," she commented, running a finger along the leather. Then she gently pulled on the drawstrings to open it. A soft gasp fell from her lips as she drew out the contents and laid them upon the table.

"Keys," Lucy breathed in astonishment. There were two - both were silver, and gleamed where they lay on the tabletop. One had an elegant fish carved into the handle, and the other a running horse.

"Dorado and Equuleus," Ortez explained fondly. "These two were my grandfather's companions."

"We can't... we can't possibly..."

The older man held up a hand to forestall any further protests on their part. "It is time for them to go to mages who will love and care for them. I have resisted parting with them for far too long as it is. I'm sure they would love to be summoned once more." His smile deepened. "I have many fond memories of these two. Please take care of them for me."

Lucy nodded, swallowing thickly and unable to respond properly.

Likewise inhibited, Yukino also nodded her thanks.

"Now, I'm certain you would like to know a little about them. Equuleus is a horse... or a pony, they were all equally large to me back then and I honestly don't know the difference otherwise," Ortez told them. "Dorado is a goldfish, but he lets off a beautiful glow in the dark. I can remember nights when my grandfather and I would sneak off to the kitchen for a late snack, Dorado swimming around us and lighting our way. Equuleus would often give us lifts to town if we needed something, and he was very affectionate... OH, MY!" he exclaimed, his speech interrupted suddenly by the two Celestial Mages hugging him. Ortez patted them awkwardly on the back. "Oh, my," he muttered again. "Oh, my."

"...I do hope that I'm not interrupting," George's droll voice came over them. "But I have brought the box you requested, sir."

Releasing Ortez, Lucy and Yukino resumed their seats. Grins were plastered across their faces.

"Excellent! Thank you, George!" Ortez said, taking the box from him. "Go ahead and have a seat."

"Thank you, sir." George sank down into a waiting armchair with apparent relief.

Ortez placed the box upon the table. It was made from a dark, red wood, polished and sleek. "This pertains to that other job I mentioned a few minutes ago," he explained. "If you could take a look at what's inside and identify it for me, you may keep it. Sound fair?"

"Sure," Lucy agreed, slightly bewildered by how well this job had turned out. She gestured to the box. "May I?"

"Go right ahead," Ortez urged.

Lucy gently grasped the box, pushing back the lid. Inside lay a pillow of fine, white satin that shone in the light. Nestled upon it, was a long object. It was mostly clear, with only the faintest tinge of lavender around the contours to reveal its shape to Lucy.

"It's a... key as well?" she questioned. Picking it up, she cradled it in her hand. It was definitely a key, but it was unlike any she'd ever seen before. "I take it you suspect this to be a Celestial Spirit key?"

"I know it to be one." His answer was calm, and confident. "This key has been passed down through the Celestial Mages of my family, but none have had the strength to summon it in a very long time indeed. They always hoped that the next generation would possess the ability the prior lacked, but alas... here we are. I do not know what Spirit it belongs to."

With a growing smile, Lucy brandished her faithful silver key. "Let's find out, then! Open, Gate of the Southern Cross! Crux!"

An old Spirit appeared with a great harumph. He floated in the air, legs crossed and his silver, cross-shaped head bowed. Ortez stared up at the elderly Spirit, wonder in his gaze.

"Hello, grandpa Crux!" Lucy greeted. "It's good to see you!"

"Yes, it is good to see you as well, Lucy. How may I help you?"

"We were wondering if you could identify this key for us?"

Crux glanced at the object in Lucy's hand. His eyes shot open to their full extent and he let out a screech.

Yukino and Ortez both yelped at the unexpected noise from the Spirit.

"That was a fast search," commented Lucy, unfazed by her Spirit's eccentricities.

"I do not need to do a search on that key, Miss Lucy," Crux informed her.

She blinked in surprise. "You know it on sight!"

The Spirit nodded, settling back and regarding her. "This is a rare key, one of only five of its kind. It belongs to the constellation of Corvus, the Crow... and it is a Ghost key."

I’ve Been Waiting For You Here I Am

-Bryan Adams “Here I Am”