#she is so incredibly reckless by putting her nose in other peoples business

[butcherb1rd]

whenever a karen page segment shows up, i get so incredibly nervous. like i support women’s rights, but she should uhhh take the hint and maybe shut up too? her ass is gonna get killed with all her poking around

[imekitty]

Prompt: Vlad and Jack get stuck in an elevator together and thanks to security cameras Vlad can't use his powers to leave nor finally kill Jack. Tensions rise thanks to Jack's happy and oblivious attitude causing Vlad to explode at him and spill everything he's bottled up the last 20 years

I can't promise this is good.

-----

Vlad checked his watch as the elevator he was in began its descent. Only three o’clock, still plenty of daylight left for his other errands.

The elevator stopped and opened. Vlad walked out but froze when he caught sight of someone in the lobby, someone huge and tall and wearing an orange jumpsuit.

Shit.

Vlad walked back into the elevator.

“Vladdy! Hey!” yelled Jack behind him.

Vlad pretended not to hear him and pressed the button for the highest floor. Maybe he would just fly out of the building once he lost Jack.

“Hey, hold that for me, V-man!”

Jack was moving quicker in his direction now. Vlad jabbed the “close doors” button and watched the doors glide toward each other.

Jack began running. Vlad watched the doors close, almost, almost—

Jack’s massive gloved hand jammed between the doors. With a grunt, he forcibly pushed one of the doors back, metal scratching against metal. Vlad narrowed his eyes.

The elevator shuddered as Jack stepped inside. Vlad gave him a perfunctory smile.

“That was close,” said Jack. “Almost didn’t make it.”

“How unfortunate that would’ve been,” said Vlad through his teeth.

“Oh, can you press 3 for me, Vladdy?”

Jack beamed at him with that stupid oblivious grin he always wore. Vlad pushed 3 and also 2 for himself. The elevator doors did not close. Vlad pressed the “close doors” button. After another pause, the doors closed with an unpleasant grinding noise.

“So what are you doing here?” Jack held up a packet of papers. “I just need to get some things notarized at the bank here.”

“I’m here for meetings,” said Vlad, trying to sound cheerful.

“Yeah? Mayoral meetings?”

“Oh, I won’t bore you with the details.”

The elevator began moving up.

“Well, Mads and I are both really proud of all the great things you’re doing for our town.”

Jack grinned again. Vlad did not doubt his sincerity.

“So you’re here on your own?” asked Vlad. “Maddie did not join you?”

“No, she asked me to—”

The elevator shook and lurched up a couple feet before jolting to a stop. Vlad felt his balance shift as his legs stumbled. Jack grabbed hold of his arm.

“I got you, V-man. You good?”

Vlad wrenched his arm free and stood tall, straightening his tie. “I’m fine.”

Jack looked around at the walls surrounding them. “The elevator’s stopped.”

“It has indeed,” said Vlad.

Jack pressed a few buttons on the control panel. Nothing responded, no movement. “Definitely stuck.”

“Seems that way.”

“But someone will fix it soon.” Jack nodded. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

Vlad looked up at the camera in the corner of the room and sighed. Even if Jack weren’t here, he wouldn’t be able to phase out. Not without finding where the security footage was kept and destroying it.

“I’m thankfully not in a rush. I’ve got plenty of time to get this done.” Jack stretched out his arms. “But what about your meetings? Are you gonna be late?”

“Hmm? Oh.” Vlad shook his head. “No, it’ll be fine.”

“I guess the mayor is allowed to be late for whatever he wants, huh?”

Vlad forced a curt half smile.

“But maybe we can call the front desk and ask if they’re getting someone to fix it.” Jack pulled out his phone and tapped the screen before raising the phone to his ear. “Hi there, we are in your elevator and it seems to be stuck. It’s not going anywhere. Do you have someone to fix it? Yeah? All right, well, we’ll just wait here, then.” Jack ended the call. “They’ve called maintenance. They should have us moving in a jiffy.”

“Good to hear,” said Vlad.

“So.” Jack switched his packet of papers from one arm to the other. “What should we do?”

“Do? What do you mean?”

“Well, I mean, I said they’d have us moving in a jiffy, but I was exaggerating.”

“Really? Were you now?”

“Yeah! So we’ve got some time to kill. This is a good chance for us to talk!”

“Talk?”

“Yeah!”

Vlad looked from one side of the elevator to the other. “Talk about what?”

“Anything! We don’t really get to talk anymore. I miss our college days, don’t you?”

“Do I?” muttered Vlad.

“Back when we used to goof around, crash frat parties.”

“I think it was you doing most of the goofing around. And we had to crash them because we were never invited.”

“Yeah, and I never understood why. We were so cool!”

“It was probably due to your incessant blathering about ghosts.”

“Ah, yeah.” Jack looked at the ceiling and smiled. “I really miss when we used to stay up late at the university lab. Like when we worked on that proto-portal. Remember that? Weren’t those fun times?”

Vlad shook his head. “No, actually. I don’t miss that at all.”

The two fell quiet for a moment.

“You know.” Jack flicked through the documents in his hands with a thumb. “You never told us what happened exactly.”

“What do you mean?” asked Vlad, weary.

“With the proto-portal. When it zapped you in the face?”

“Oh. That.” Vlad shrugged. “What about it?”

“Well, I mean, what happened with that?”

“It zapped me in the face, like you said. You were there. You saw.”

“Yeah, I know, but what happened after that?” Jack frowned. “Maddie and I never heard from you again. Not until the college reunion a couple years ago.”

“I was a little busy being hospitalized and nearly dying,” said Vlad dully.

“Yeah, we heard,” said Jack. “And we tried to get in touch with you, but we couldn’t find which hospital you were at.”

“I didn’t want anyone to find me.”

“But even us? Even me?”

“Especially you.”

Jack’s frown deepened. “But we were best friends, weren’t we?”

“I might’ve described us that way in the past, yes.”

“What does that mean?”

Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned.

“I was really worried about you, Vlad.”

“Worried?” Vlad scoffed. “Really?”

“Of course I was. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You weren’t worried about making sure you put ecto-purifier and not diet soda in the proto-portal’s filtration system,” said Vlad. “You weren’t worried about making sure I was out of the way before turning it on.”

Jack sucked his teeth. “Yeah, I was a little trigger happy, but I was just excited. Weren’t you?”

“I was not excited about getting blasted in the face with soda-infused ectoplasmic energy that burrowed in my skin and tore it up, no.”

“Was it really that bad?”

Vlad folded his arms. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

Jack nodded. “Okay. Well, maybe we can get coffee sometime or meet somewhere more comfortable—”

“No, I mean I don’t want to talk about this with you. Ever.”

“But why—”

“Because it was your fault!”

Jack shrank away from him.

“You were careless and selfish and destroyed my life,” roared Vlad. “I was in horrific pain and everyone who saw me stared at me like I was some freak. And I almost died. I wanted to die sometimes. Couldn’t even look at myself in a mirror.”

Jack tightened his hold on his documents and looked down at the floor.

“You never think before you do anything. You’re reckless and oafish and that hasn’t changed at all.” Vlad thrust his hand toward the elevator door. “Just look at what you did to the elevator!”

Jack looked at the door. “I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did,” spat Vlad. “You forced the door open and now it’s broken and we’re stuck in here. Because that’s what you do, you destroy and ruin things for other people.”

“But I didn’t want to miss seeing you.” Jack’s voice had a small whine. “I don’t get to see you enough, Vladdy.”

“Right, of course. You were thinking about yourself again. You broke the elevator because you wanted to see me. Just like you zapped me in the face because you didn’t want to wait any longer to try out the proto-portal.”

“Vladdy, please—”

“Don’t call me that. We’re adults now.” Vlad paused. “Or at least I am.”

He looked up at the camera and pursed his lips. With his arms folded, he clenched his fists, knuckles cracking.

Jack did not speak for some time. Vlad could only hope he would keep shut up until the elevator started working again.

“I am sorry, you know.”

Vlad rolled his eyes. Of course he couldn’t possibly expect Jack to stay quiet for long.

“I really didn’t know that would happen,” said Jack. “I didn’t even see what happened to you until it was too late.”

Vlad scoffed.

“I just thought we were on the brink of something incredible,” said Jack. “And I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

Vlad lowered his gaze to the floor.

“We were on the brink of something incredible,” he said softly. “I wanted it as well.”

Jack side-eyed him but Vlad kept his head down.

“And I suppose…” Vlad shrugged. “I know I couldn’t have done it on my own. Not without you. And Maddie. Probably more so without Maddie.”

Jack hummed amusement but said nothing.

“But you were the one who got me into all this,” said Vlad. “Ghosts, I mean.”

Vlad recalled Jack’s nonstop yammering about ghosts that kept him up at night when he really needed to be doing his homework instead. Yammering that at first annoyed him but began intriguing him, challenging what he thought he knew, pulling him into a new direction to explore the supernatural.

And allowing him to meet the first woman in a long time who had actually smiled at him. A woman he would have followed anywhere, into the Ghost Zone and wherever else she wanted to go.

“None of what I have now would’ve happened without you,” said Vlad. “Not that I’m about to thank you for any of it.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me either,” said Jack.

“And I don’t,” said Vlad. He blew out a sharp puff past his lips. “But at least things turned out almost okay for me.”

“Almost?” said Jack. “What isn’t okay for you now? Something I can help with?”

Vlad wondered what Maddie was doing right at that moment. How he wished he could have gotten stuck in this elevator with her instead.

“No,” said Vlad.

The elevator shook and restarted its ascent. Jack grinned up at the ceiling.

“Hey, they fixed it!” he exclaimed.

Vlad also looked up but said nothing.

The elevator doors opened. Vlad had no idea what floor it was but knew he was getting off anyway. He stepped past the threshold.

“Vlad. Hey.” Jack stepped out with him.

“The bank isn’t on this floor,” said Vlad curtly.

“Yeah, I know,” said Jack as the elevator doors closed behind them. “I think I’m gonna take the stairs the rest of the way.”

Vlad raised his brows before huffing and shaking his head. “I have things to do.” He started walking away.

“Vlad.”

Vlad turned back to him. “What is it, Jack?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “You have my number, right? If you ever want to talk about anything. Maybe whatever it is that isn’t okay for you right now.”

Vlad chewed the inside of his cheek and crossed his arms, remembering the failed hits he had put on Jack, how the only thing that kept him from killing Jack in that elevator was a surveillance camera.

“You really still think of me as a friend, don’t you?” said Vlad.

Jack blinked. “Well. Yeah. Don’t you?”

Vlad studied his face for several long seconds before smiling.

“Of course,” said Vlad.

Jack smiled back, looking relieved. Vlad’s facial muscles cramped as he kept up his own smile.

“Please give my best to your lovely wife,” said Vlad. “I really must go now.”

He turned and walked away at a brisk pace, balling a fist against his chest out of Jack’s sight.

[lovemesomeharry]

SPELLS AND CURSES

That’s my piece for @hsogolden’s 5k writing challenge. I hope you guys like it as I tried to do something I would’ve never thought of! Thanks to @hsogolden for making such a fun challenge and letting my lame ass participate in it. 💕

And last but not least, I really don’t know my way around witchcraft, so I apologise in advance if something doesn’t make any sense. I’ve tried my best with the research but I really don’t know if anything’s accurate. So, please read it with caution. And I hope it’s still somewhat enjoyable :)

Used AU’s

Witch!Harry

Villain!Harry

Used prompts

“You don’t seem so excited.”

“Oh, for fucks sake!”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

Warnings: Smut, Curse Words, Witch stuff (obviously), death

Words: 36.4k (it’s a long one)

Summary: Harry and Y/N never thought of seeing each other again but Harry needs help and Y/N is more clueless to his true intentions than she thought.

It was a quiet night, maybe even too quiet for what the Brit was usually used to. The chilly wind was hitting him in the face while he was walking towards the source of noise, drowning out the laughter and talks of the few people on the streets. The club, where he was headed, was awfully full, compared to the rest of the city and if it was up to him, he wouldn’t even be there. Why would he want to anyway? Something about crowded places with only sweaty, smelly, and intoxicated people never sounded extremely comfortable to him. Especially if the music was blasting in his ears, almost making them bleed, with the same obnoxious songs on repeat the whole night. After witnessing the greatest times of music, he was convinced that nowadays artists had no idea what they were doing and most of the time, their music wasn’t as good as they made it out to be. That’s why he preferred much more to get drunk in a small group of friends and sometimes even small parties or gatherings but not large clubs, as he wasn’t able to switch the music whenever he pleased, or was constantly sorrohnded by strangers who knew no personal space.

But to have fun was not the purpose of him being there and he needed to focus if he wanted to get the job done. So, he couldn’t distract himself by buying endless drinks of hoping he’d get a bit intoxicated, even if it meant to only be tipsy. His head had to be fully in the moment.

When he tried to walk through the door, the tall and bulky bouncer was already grabbing him by his arm, yanking him backward with no effort. Harry didn’t expect of him to just let him sneak inside. He very much hoped that he wouldn’t, as a playful smirk crept on his face. He knew he was going to love what was about to happen.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked in a monotone voice, trying his best to come off as strong and scary while Harry tried his best to stiffen his laughter. Humans were so pathetic sometimes but it wasn’t really their fault that they didn’t know that Harry would get inside, one way or another, and them fighting him would solely be a waste of time.

“Look man, I’m not trying to pick a fight, so, just let me get in.” His tone was calm and slow but yet vibrant, making sure his words would echo in his head. Harry tried his best to imitate him with the way he talked, as he was not tall, nor muscular enough to do so. It’s not that Harry wasn’t tall or musuclar, because he was tall and could pull more weights with his upper chest than most people with their whole bodies but he just couldn’t compare to the bouncer. 

But that didn’t seem to help. “No.” The man was shaking his head again while Harry took one step closer.

“I just–”

“–I said no.” Immediately the bouncer grabbed Harry by his shirt, pulling him away from the entrance. “You’re not invited.” He explained harshly with gritted teeth, his eyes staring directly into Harry’s green ones. He just smiled fondly, while keeping the bouncer’s gaze.

Slowly Harry leaned to him, whispering right before his furious face. “Quod dico facies.” His minty breath got stuck in the bouncer’s nose, while his words burned into his brain. His grip immediately loosened around Harry’s shirt and his gaze was not as strong as it was before. Even the anger had left him within seconds. Just like Harry wanted. With his hands, he seemed to straighten his clothes, before he turned to him again. “I’ll go inside, you won’t say anything about it and forget ever meeting me, got it?” As if it was music to the bouncer's ears, he nodded with his head in a complete trance. “Attaboy.” Harry chuckled, patting the bald man's head, as he would do to a dog, before he walked inside the stuffy, crowded, and dark room. Quickly he put his blazer back in place, dust the imaginary dirt off him, while he was still amused of how easy it was for him to get his way. He was so smug about being a witch and never would he give up his powers to be a lousy mortal. Ever.

As he walked further into the building more sweaty bodies collided with him, annoying him but he tried to play it off as he moved with the rhythm, searching for the person, he was in there for. Urgently, his emerald orbs were searching through the crowds, trying desperately to find the girl, who was a headache to locate. She really didn’t let him find her easily, as she was strong enough to be invisible to his magic. She was strong enough to channel his powers away from her but Harry wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t absolutely sure that she’d be here. He wouldn’t be in the messy club, in the first place, if she wasn’t such a powerful witch. After all she can be as invisible as she wanted to be to his magic but people will always talk.

Slightly, he was shoving people away from him when he finally found her, his prey. Her dark skin was shining in golden tones underneath the dim lights, almost exposing her as a witch, as she looked so eternal in her glowy, orange dress and her long nails, gripping the dark glass of her drink. Her wild curls were framing perfectly, while she flaunted her long legs on the barstool and for a moment Harry admired her beauty before he felt ready to go talk to her, swallowing a lump that was forming in his throat. Mentally he wanted to slap himself for the way his hands started to sweat nervously and his heartbeat rapidly against his ribcage. Of course, she was going to be absolutely breathtaking. The energy she radiated was enough to knock the air out of his lungs and he wondered how long it had taken her to master the craft the way she did. Not many witches were able to do black and white magic but she was, and that made her so incredibly powerful. Maybe sixty years ago, others would have treated like royalty because of it but now, no one really cared. Magiy wasn’t the way it used to, as most witches weren’t so reckless anymore. That’s why he feared that he would find someone like her, someone with her abilities. And that’s exactly what Harry wanted. He wanted –no, needed– her magic source to be his and he wasn’t going to stop until he finally has it.

“Hello.” He introduced himself with a deep, raspy voice and a charming smile tilting at his rosy lips, while his right hand went through his chestnut curls, knowing well that he was showing off his best features.

Her head turned around just for a second, scoffing when she caught a glimpse of him, before shifting her gaze to the barkeeper again. “You again, English man.” She dryly let out, not impressed of seeing him again.

“The one and only.” Sheepishly, Harry let out a humorous chuckle, as he remembered back to when he had met her for the first time. She didn’t really let him talk to her and was more busy at the witches market, pretending that he wasn’t even there. For a second his confidence wavered when he wondered whether or not she had seen, or remembered him. But she did. At least that was a start. He was glad that he had overheard her talking about her magic, since he was already on a hunt for someone like her and even if he hadn’t expect to find her while he was busy buying animal bones, crystals or some insects. 

“I won’t get rid of you that easily, won’t I?” She hissed and finally looked back at the man who tried his best not to frown. He wasn’t going to give up. Of course not. But he knew he had a long night ahead of him if she was going to stay this cold. “How did you find me anyway?”

“It’s not hard to find someone as gorgeous as you. Everybody notices and remembers.” He batted his eyelashes, leaning on the dark table next to her while looking deeply into her dark eyes. A glimpse of amusement sparkled in them. Of course, complimenting her would help him get to her. He was well aware of his charms, and the seductive fragrance he had used, helped him magically, in addition. And he knew how witches worked and what they liked. Every single one of them was stubburn and loved compliments, as their egos were no match to humans, or so it seemed.

A small smirk was playing at the corners of her full lips. “So you were asking around for me?” He was putting on his best act, even tried to act nervous, as if he was a naive, amateur witch, struck by her beauty and power. In a way, he was struck by her but he wasn’t as nervous. When he started chewing on his bottom lip, fidgeting with his fingers, and even managing to blush, she was forced to let out a girly giggle, fully believing his act. “Don’t get nervous now, rookie, and sit down.” He nodded delicately, before grabbing the stool’s soft leather and pushing it back, so he was able to sit down on it. Once Harry sat down, she continued fidgeting at her bracelet, to get it in the right position, where it wasn’t distracting her. “Why are you looking for me? What do you need?”

“Nothing.” Immediately Harry bit on his tongue, as the word bubbled out of his mouth, a little too fast for his liking. He couldn’t risk making her suspicious.

She narrowed her eyes, clearly not convinced by his fast and short answer. “I don’t believe you, loverboy.”

“Well, do I need to have a reason to admire you?” His grin was never fading and his voice remained strong. After all, he had done this before but he couldn’t deny that it was always nerve wrecking.

She laughed. “You really try to be charming, don’t you?” Her elbow was placed next to her drink, while she smiled widely at him before gripping his bicep with her hand and giving him a soft squeeze. Hot chills were running through Harry’s body, like electricity.

Knowingly, he leaned closer to her ear, whispering into it in his most seductive voice, as he knew he had her ego was strocked enough. “I’m not trying.” He didn’t attempt to grow some distance between their bodies, to make sure she'd smell what he was wearing, knowing exactly, that it would make her brain release more oxytocin. That’s exactly what he wanted, as he knew, it was going to increase her trust, make him seem more attractive than he already was, and– most importantly– it was going to increase her sex drive.

“I’m impressed. Most witches don’t have the guts to talk to me.”

“You’re already impressed? I can do so much more.”

She pursed her lips and it didn’t take Harry many more words before both of them ended up in his place, or at least the place he was staying at. It was a nice and expensive hotel that had a preference for marble floors and huge chandeliers. Harry enjoyed the finer things in life and he didn’t feel bad about it and seeing how her face lit up, he assumed, she didn’t either.

As his lips were trailing down her jaw and her chest, she made sure to push his hair out of his handsome face, to tug on them harshly. Delicately he hissed at her action, before he hid her face into her neck again, while the sweet scent of oranges filled his nostrils, almost hypnotizing him into inhaling it deeper. His plum lips left a trail down her chest, his hands roaming all over her body and his tongue began to explore her sweet skin. Even if making themselves both feel good wasn’t really his priority, it didn’t stop him from enjoying the moment. She felt so intoxicatingly good and all he felt in that moment was how his forehead began to sweat, his pants growing tighter. Slowly he pushed her against the wall, trailing his hands up and down her spine, causing goosebumps to cover her chocolate skin, and he didn’t hesitate before he slipped her dress off.

A smug smile adorned her flawless features. “Doesn’t seem too fair that you’re still so awfully clothed.” She noted, almost ripping his blazer and shirt off him, while he was busy slipping his pants off, leaving him only in his underwear. “Better.” Her hands gripped his neck, pulling him deeper into her, as her teeth began to carve into his heated skin, leaving small marks behind. Fiercely, he unclasped her bra, running his hands over her, already hardening, nipples before twisting them in between his fingers. He heard her moan, making him grip her harder before he started to kiss her bare chest, his tongue licking down her body before he was on his knees and his hands sliding down to her hips. The witch gripped the curly boy's head, pushing him between her legs. “Why don’t you put your mouth to good use?”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Gladly.” Painfully slow, his teeth gripped at the fabric of her panties, tugging them down, while her dark eyes watched him impatiently. Once the fabric was out of the way, he made sure to leave many trails of kisses on the insides of her thighs, as his thumbs rubbed small circles on her hips.

Annoyed, she rolled her eyes. “Stop being a fucking tease.” The hand gripping his curls, tugged harder at them, sending a painful shiver down his spine. She pushed his face right between her legs, keeping him steady, as he had no other choice but to taste her and find out if she tasted as good as she smelled. Sinful sounds left both of their mouths, while he drove his tongue deeper and harder into her, covering himself in her juices, while he felt his cock painfully throbbing inside his pants. “Fuck. Just like that.” She let out with a shaky breath, making Harry laugh against her lips. Trembling vibrations were sent through her body, making the pleasure even more craving. Her words spurred him on even more before he dipped his fingers slowly into her wet core. Juices were instantly covering his ring cladded fingers, while he felt her legs trembling softly, as they were fighting to be open.

Even though he was making sure for her to feel good, his mind was tracing to his plan. He had to make sure that she was distracted enough, so she wouldn’t be able to stop him. That’s why he sucked harder, and his fingers went in and out of her faster and deeper. He felt her walls clenching around his fingers, while her moans began to get louder. It didn’t take him much more till her legs were properly shaking, her hands loosening their grip on his hair and a loud orgasm was given to her by him. Her juices still running down her inner thighs, he slowly lifted himself up from the floor. She was still trying to catch her breath, and he took his sweet time, prepping, even more, kisses on her neck, feeling her fast beating heartbeat.

“You taste so sweet.” He lulled into her ear, her completely oblivious to his hand reaching into his back pocket, revealing a sharp dagger. “Almost as sweet as you smell.” His tongue licked along her pulsating vein, knowing that it’ll stop soon enough. For a final time, he nuzzled his nose into her, letting her scent linger on him for a short time. “So sad, that it’ll all go to waste.”

“What?”

“I’m so sorry.” He said while he gripped her chin between his fingers, looking into her eyes. For a minute it seemed that he was admiring her eyes, but that facade was quickly destroyed, as his dagger cut through that beautiful skin of hers. A heavy whimper left her lips, as blood rushed down her body. An evil smirk evident on him when he watched the life slowly fading from her face.

“Y– Yo– You… asshole.” She stuttered, gripping her neck with her shaky hands while her mouth was open wide.

A deep laugh escaped his mouth, shaking his head. “Not my fault that you’re fooled so easily, my darling.” A wave of guilt overcame him when he saw the dark liquid running down her body, as she tried so desperately to make it stop, and maybe he would’ve tried to help her if he didn’t know what was at stake. No matter how hard he wanted to feel sorry for her, he forbade himself to. Her life was long enough, and her death wasn’t going to be a tragedy, but rather serve a bigger purpose. That’s why all the guilt escaped his body, his eyes turning a stone-cold color before he dipped his fingers into the dark liquid. “Thanks for everything, by the way.” Coordinated, he drew symbols on the walls. “You were much easier than other witches, but no one got me hard as fast as you did. I’ll give you that.” Effortlessly he drew every lines of the rune, he needed, before pressing his palm into the middle of the circle. “I’ll always be grateful.” Thick, sticky blood dripped down his hands when he exhaled deeply through his nostrils. “Nomine Omnes damnatos septem maria lunam, vires me confero.” A burning feeling overcame his body, as fire seemed to run through his veins. A sensation that was painful, yet powering at the same time and he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t addicted to it. 

He was addicted to feeling powerful. 

He was addicted to being powerful.

Too consumed in his ecstatic state, he completely forgot to keep his eyes on the dying witch. She wasn’t feeling better, in fact, she knew she was taking her last breaths, as she was sliding down the wall, leaving a dark red tail on the white wallpaper with flower patterns. Her shaky fingers drew one rune on her own, trying her best not to mess it up. “Virt– Virtus... omnia laterent... vafer om– omni ma– malo.” She whispered with the last strength inside of her, before pressing her palm on her drawing.

Immediately Harry’s eyes shot towards her, panic rising inside of him at the unknown spell she just cast. “What was this?” But she didn’t respond. Her limbs too weak to move, her eyes rolling back in her head as Harry strutted towards her with heavy steps. “You fucking bitch. What the fuck did you do?” Rapidly he shook her body, but she stayed still, as he felt all his previous power escape her body, leaving him with an empty feeling.

Scared, he looked down at his blood-smeared hands, trying his hardest to do something, anything.

“Lux a flamma usque.” Nothing.

“Ne flux aqua.” Nothing.

“Stone, parva et ipsum.” Nothing again.

Harry furiously shook his head, as he tried to find an explanation for his absence of magic. He didn’t know how to explain it, or how she had done it and most importantly, how to reverse it.

But he knew one thing, he knew he messed up.

With slow but steady steps Y/N walked down the foggy path, playing with the book in her hands while she whistled to an innocent tune as the birds seemed to join her on her walk through the dark forest. Grey clouds were above her, almost threatening to pour rain if she dared to stay outside any longer but that wasn’t one of her concerns. Stubbornly her head was still deeply buried inside her book that she wanted to read since she couldn’t find the time to lately.

It wasn’t necessarily that she hadn’t had time to read, because she did. Her daily routine didn’t take too much of her time and way too often she found herself being bored out of her mind. That’s why she had an impressive collection of books laying around at her cozy place and no matter how fond, or proud, she was of her house, she couldn’t read there. Maybe it was the silence that seemed to haunt her or the fact that she felt extremely lonely as she had no one near her. No neighbors, no family, and not even any human friends. And despite the fact that she didn’t socialite with anyone in that cafe, she felt a little less lonely when she saw the world around her with so many different people, as they went by, not realizing how interesting they were to her. Every single person had their own way of talking, moving, and even radiated different energy but yet, they all lived together in harmony. Or at least as harmonized as possible.

Y/N wanted to be a part of it sometimes, but she knew she would never fit in. There were too many differences between them and her, at least that’s what she told herself whenever she got scared of opening up. She really didn’t know how to. That’s why she always played with the thought of never going back to the cafe but she couldn’t stop when she remembered how her place feels like when she got a minute to herself and was able to drown in her thoughts.

Too often she visited the little space, where the world seemed to come to a halt and nobody dared to speak up or question her antics as she visited that place frequently, even though it wasn’t exactly near her home, or was easy for her to reach. She didn’t even remember when or how she found the cafe but she was convinced that there was no better place for her, if she wanted to feel included, once in her life. No one really talked to her, or at least not more than just a “hello” or “is the seat taken?” but it was enough for her to be a part of the moving crowd.

Her legs were carrying her dreadfully through the path covered with yellow, orange, red, and brown leaves. The world would have seemed so colorful with the birds singing and her footsteps echoing through the ending forest if it weren’t for the fog clouding her vision. But what else could anyone expect from an ordinary autumn day? Y/N was aware of the weather, so she was never surprised by it.

When the crowded trees came to an end and car sounds were getting louder, Y/N lifted her head up from the path, trying her best to spot the cafe that was located not too far away from the main road. Her hair was blown away by the cold breeze, painting her cheeks in a soft color and her hands gripped the hardcover of her romantic novel, as her steps became more eager, knowing well that she was almost at her destination.

It had been too many days since she had the time to visit the never heavily crowded place. Curiosity ate her up from the inside as she thought about her book, yet excitement spread through her body at the same time. She waited so long to finish it and originally it was her plan to have started a new one by now but her cat, Jupiter, got sick and she couldn’t bear to leave him alone. Also, Y/N knew that something had to be up if he got sick and she didn’t know what could’ve thrown the universe out of balance. Her familiar hardly ever got sick, unless something bad was going to happen, or if Y/N was sick herself. They’re true, loyal and helpful companions to a witch and Y/N considered herself lucky to have found hers, as he helped her out more often than she wanted him to be, and she felt save with him.Of course, she still had to be walking on tiptoes, and be aware of her surroundings but at the same time, she couldn’t imagine anything bad coming towards her, as she lived so isolated from everyone else. How could anyone find her anyway?

A strong smell of coffee already filled her lungs when she stood in front of the dimly lit shop, with the big windows greeting her to come inside and the little sign dangling in front of her eyes on the door with the word ‘open’ written over it, made her push the door open. A tiny bell rang out when she stepped foot onto the dark, hardwood floor but no eyes turned to her, as everyone seemed so engrossed in their own world. Disappointment made itself clear when she walked to the barista, while she wondered how it’d feel to be greeted by anyone.

She hadn’t had any real human contact in over a decade, and slowly she started to feel an absence of intimacy, even if it was just a warm smile towards her or a quick ‘hello’, followed by her name. But she couldn’t really blame anyone but herself, as it was her decision to live the way she lives. Or maybe she could blame the universe for making her someone she didn’t want to be, in the first place. Then she’d have never been in this situation and probably left her golden years already behind, while slowly waiting for her turn to leave this earth. She wouldn’t have been a threat but an average human being with friends, pets, and maybe even with children, probably even grandchildren, of her own by now. Often Y/N found herself daydreaming about another world, where she was chosen to be a normal one, and wondered if she’d cause less pain to others. She shouldn’t think that, as many mortals wanted to be in her place, but she wished she was not a witch.

As her brain was showing her an alternative reality where she got everything she ever dreamed of, a painful smile appeared on her face. Isn’t it funny how someone can do anything beyond their imagination and yet feel like she wasn’t capable of doing anything? Y/N really wanted to blame the person out there, who cursed her to be where she was right now. She felt angry thinking about it, and if she were inexperienced she could leash out and do things she was going to regret but she knew herself better and was convinced that a cup of hot chocolate with tiny, pink and white marshmallows in it, would make her anger disappear. Sometimes life really can be that easy.

“What can I get you?” The blonde barista asked behind the counter, while she made sure to give Y/N a warm smile. By the familiar sound of a human voice, Y/N’s ears perked up, just like how Jupiters would. The little gesture was unintentional and she couldn’t stop, because after living with just a cat, her way around people drastically changed. The high voice echoed in her head on replay, as if she was listening to a song she’s heard before, leaving a nostalgic taste on her tongue.

For a moment too long Y/N stared into the barista's eyes before she snapped out of her head and back into reality; a place she wanted to be in so badly. “A chocolate, please. Hot chocolate, I mean.” Quickly, those words rolled off her tongue, as she made sure those were in the right order. Mentally cursing at herself for stuttering and already messing up. She didn’t forget how to speak over the years, but her constant fear of standing out in the crowd gave her anxiety. She just wanted to belong to the normal people, that’s why she repeated that sentence mentally a dozen times before she found the courage to say them out loud, hoping her volume was alright. She didn’t want to be the odd one, something people had always called her and it didn’t matter who said it, because everyone did. From human to witches, everyone. The barista nodded her head, while she turned around to prepare her drink. With studying eyes Y/N observed her every move. They seemed so coordinated and smooth, as if it wouldn’t make her any energy to make a drink and if she didn’t have to think twice about what she was doing. Y/N wanted to be like this; effortless. But that seemed impossible as she remembered how she had forgotten a part of her order, even though it’s always the same and she had practiced that sentence before. With an overly dramatic gasp, Y/N made the blue-eyed barista stop her movements. “And with marshmallows, please.” Slightly Y/N cringed when she heard her soft, whispery and highpitched voice, wondering if she tried too hard to be polite, as she always seemed to plea. Did everyone try to be polite, or was it just her? And by the look the barista gave her, Y/N knew she behaved differently from most people. Was it bad to be polite nowadays? 

“Sure.” She only responded as she poured two spoonfuls of tiny marshmallows for her before offering Y/N her drink. She gave the barista a small hint of a smile, paid the drink, and found herself a cozy place to sit in one of the darker corners. Maybe it was best if she didn’t talk, or at least that’s what her anxiety advised her to. 

Y/N placed her blue cup on the round table before she opened up her book. She decided diving into the world of her novel would be better than studying people as there weren’t so many in the shop to keep her entertained for a longer period of time. The little cafe was almost empty, besides for the two people working behind the counter, three teenage girls giggling together while staring at their phones, and an old man reading his paper. But Y/N had assumed that, as soon as she saw the dark clouds. Mortals seemed to hate the rain while Y/N didn’t mind getting wet if it meant she could drink her hot chocolate. So, apparently, Y/N valued different things in life.

Before she began reading, she glanced over at her drink, still seeing the hot steam coming from it. She guessed she still had to wait unless she wanted to burn her tongue but she wasn’t so keen on not being able to taste anything for a week. With her fingers, she brushed over the soft page, as she dived in a world, where she could be completely normal without having to fear messing anything up. Maybe that’s why she liked books so much, as the pages were already written and the fate set in stone, nothing she’d do would change the outcome and that gave her a sense of security that life couldn’t give her. Y/N knew every tiny little detail could change everything and that was terrifying if she dwelled too much on it. Carefully she read the words, selected by the author, when the world around her became even quieter as her focus shifted fully into her book but the tiny noises were still hearable, keeping her from drifting away too far from the actual world.

Her eyes were eagerly reading the scene where the hero confessed his feelings for the clueless girl. A scene she had been waiting for since she started reading it. Goosebumps erupted on her skin, even though she never reacted that way. But Y/N was too much into the book to care, else wise she’d be on the lookout for what caused such a reaction out of her. Mortals wouldn’t understand what a blessing and a curse her exaggerated senses were but most of the time Y/N was glad that hers were always on point, as they had saved her from countless situations that could’ve been harmful to her, or Jupiter. And those senses helped her prevent running into her kind.

At least, usually, they do.

When another round of chills ran down her back, she finally let go of her book and let her eyes wander through the small shop, as her initial flee instincts kicked in. But she couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Carefully her hand closed the book shut, before her right hand went in to grab the mug, hoping the beverage would calm nerves. When the warm taste of melted chocolate spread on her tongue, the consistency reminded her of softly whipped cream. Usually, this would make her moan quietly in satisfaction, and immediately her tense body would lump into one of the dark, velvet cushions.

But this time her body didn’t relax and the odd feeling didn’t leave the pit of her stomach. What was going on?

In a very quick motion, she put the mug back on the table, before she grabbed her book harshly, as she got ready to get up. Y/N didn’t want to abandon her drink but she knew better to trust her gut than her roaring stomach. With coordinated moves, she quickly approached the door, didn’t even look around the store as the burning sensation became stronger, almost making her feel like being suffocated. Her head was low, and when she felt the material of the door, a sigh escaped her mouth. She really needed to get away from there. When she stepped outside a cold wind whipped her harshly across the face and before she could comprehend what was happening, she bumped into someone.

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” The other person let out in a deep, raspy voice, signaling her that it was a man in front of her.

Quickly she nodded her head, at the same time readjusting her book in her hands. “Yes, I’m al–” Her breath got stuck in her throat when she looked into a pair of piercing green eyes. Electricity shot through her veins, although her blood ran cold. Her intuition was never wrong but could it be truly right, right now? 

But the energy the man radiated couldn’t be contained and denied. He had to be. And he seemed to have the same thoughts about her, as a wide grin decorated his pink lips. “Hello, comrade.” Her heart sank deeper as her brain was already looking for ways to escape this situation and roaming through the various spells she could cast right now without hesitation. How could she not take the signs seriously? She should’ve known when Jupiter got sick, that something was coming her way but she thought she knew better. How could she? The universe knows everything better, she doesn’t. The color on her face immediately left and her eyes shot wide open, frantically blinking to make sure the situation was actually real, and not a hallucination. “You don’t seem so excited. Did someone take your tongue?” His large hand tried to touch her arm but she flinched away, not amused by his choice of words. Of course, he was a witch. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have said that, knowing well that some spells, indeed, require an actual tongue and it was a saying for witches. Y/N knew all about them, as she used to cast those types of spells as well and had to take someone’s tongue, literally had to cut it out of someone’s mouth. Not her proudest moments, she had to admit, but she had done worse if she was being completely honest.

She shook her head. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” Y/N hissed, unintentionally mimicking Jupiter again, as he would do with someone he wasn’t fond of.

As she stared with disbelief into the stranger's eyes, recognition didn’t flicker once. He was unknown to her and she truly wondered how he made his way to such a small town, as most witches didn’t come across her tiny home. Y/N couldn’t even remember when another one of her kind actually visited that place, as most of them decided to live in the city due to the always growing population. And Y/N fully understood why they did it. It was a much nicer and easier way of living, besides it wasn’t the 18th century anymore. Witches don’t have to fly on brooms and they most certainly don’t wear pointy hats. Most would even find it offending, as no witch ever wore a pointy hat, solitary for being one. Why would anyone do that anyway? They looked ridiculous, in her opinion and made witches have no fashion sense, which wasn’t right, as some of them were the biggest designers in this world and a lot more were dressed by them. 

“Is that a way to talk to an old friend?” Slowly he tugged at the hem of his black coat and wrapped himself tighter in it, as if he could feel Y/N’s cold stare on his skin, freezing him undeniably. Maybe it was wrong of her to have such a closed-off attitude but she wasn’t well with mortals, and even worse with witches. If it were up to her, she’d give up her powers, as she doomed for them to bring no joy but only misery into the already cruel world. Why make it worse, right?

Confused, she furrowed her eyebrows together. “We’re not friends. I don’t even know you.” Her tongue wet her lips when she clenched her eyes shut at his bright, knowing smile. Confused, Y/N took a few steps back, as she tried her hardest to understand him but she didn’t seem to be good at it. She had met many of her kind, even used to live in a town filled with them in her childhood. In her early adult life, she still kept in touch with them but that was a lifetime ago, at last, that’s what it felt like to her. Even if she knew him, was she supposed to remember every witch she had ever crossed paths with? He couldn’t expect her to, could he?

A laugh escaped his rosy lips. “I guess the potion really worked.” He shook his head as he lowered his gaze towards his shoes before he looked up again and put his balled fists into the pockets of his jacket. “I’m Harry. Harry Styles.” Even though he finally revealed his name she couldn’t find any memories of him. He almost wanted to stretch his hand out to her, for her to shake it but decided against it and let it continue to rest inside the warmth fabric. He figured that she wouldn't be too fond of the gesture, amusing him even more. She’s still just how he had remembered her.

“What potion?” She urged with a raised eyebrow. What was he talking about?

“What potion?” He repeated her question dramatically as if she was supposed to know what he was talking about. “You should know that! This is stuff from junior year, Barky.”

Barky? Y/N furrowed her eyebrow together and closed her eyes shut, trying her hardest to concentrate and find out where she’s heard that nickname before. A nagging feeling crept upon her as if she had heard someone call her that before as if she was supposed to know where, when and who used to call her that. A frown overcame her shy features while she was trying her hardest to remember. With a lot of concentration, memories floated back from her college years and instantly her mouth turned sour, her facial expression bitter and lips sealed together in a tight line. Y/N was certain that she could never get that memory out of her head, as it left a burning mark on her. It was her most embarrassing story from college and if it wasn’t bad enough, it had to be her first real date too. She went out to get some lunch with Dylan, a senior with the softest golden locks she’s ever seen and the perfect smile with the tiny gap between his front teeth, undeniably making him even more charming. She was excited, beyond excited even that he had asked her out. A giddy feeling was consistent in her belly since the minute she woke up on that day, proofing how much she had looked forward to for this date. Y/N couldn’t even tell you when she started crushing on him because to her it felt like all her life she was into him, even though she didn’t know of his existence, as if a part of her knew she was going to meet him. That’s why she was so ecstatic when he had asked her out, even considered it a projection of someone upon her, as many witches were cruel enough to do so. But to her luck, it wasn’t. No one tried to mess with her, or at least not yet. She had gotten ready, even put on her most expensive cologne and her favorite, floral, puff sleeve dress. He had picked her up and everything went well, they were talking, laughing, and even their hands were touching, when Y/N started to bark out of nowhere. It was a sound that only a real dog could ever let out, and it sounded so foreign when she made that noise. Instantly her hand cupped her face, her nails digging into the soft flesh of her warm cheeks. No matter how hard she tried, words wouldn’t leave her mouth, just animalistic sounds, and whenever she tried to be quiet her lips wouldn’t seal. Now thinking back, she realized that someone was missing from that story, making her guess who put her in that situation. It felt like a foggy memory as if she had drunk too much alcohol and blacked out. But she knew she didn’t drink anything. She only remembered being called “Barky” for the rest of her college years, she just couldn’t remember who gave her that nickname.

“Did you–”

“–still don’t know? Let me remind you.” The stranger laughed loudly, almost as if he was mocking her. With those words, he took her hand and placed a purple stone inside. A mild pain increased slowly in her veins when her eyes closed shut. It almost felt like a cramp, everyone tends to get when they’ve been writing for too long, and Y/N knew why. He was feeding her information, memories that he once had erased, appeared before her very own eyes. With every second that passed, more and more she came to a conclusion who the green-eyed boy in front of her was but it didn’t leave her with a smile on her face. No, quite the opposite, as a foul expression decorated her features.

It was him.

When her brain finally registered him, she slapped his hands away immediately, her face scrunching up in disgust. How dare he visit her? How did he even find her? And why? He was the last person she would’ve ever thought of seeing in her life again, but here she was, looking at his amused face with those deep dimples.

“You.” She flared, pointing his finger at his chest. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Her tone was aggressive and feisty, almost as if she had tried to spit fire, like a dragon, and the stranger knew that she could, making him back away slightly. Her demeanor chaged so quickly, that she wasn’t even sure how quiet she usually was.

Defensively, he put his hands up. “Calm down! I was just passing by.”

“Bullshit. You never do anything if it doesn’t benefit you, Styles.”

For a second Harry’s grin disappeared, before he sighed when the intensity of her gaze didn’t diminish. He felt defeated. “Alright.” Slowly he put his hands away. “I’m here for a reason. I need your help–”

“–and you think I would help you?” She shook her head harshly. “You wasted your time coming here. I don’t even know what you were thinking.” Y/N was fully admitting the truth, as she really didn’t understand how she could help him and for him to think that she would, was even more ridiculous. She tried her hardest not to sound bitter but failed miserably as her anger got the best of her. Not only was she furious at him for erasing her memory but also because of everything else he had done to destroy her college experience. For once in her life, she wanted to experience a normal life, and going to college, she thought, would help her to have one. She wasn’t really planning on walking into another witch but when she did run into Harry, she had always been nice to him. He just wasn’t decent enough to be respectful back. In front of mortals, he’d make sure to poke fun at her for the way she looked, acted, and even for her good grades. And when he was alone with her he’d make rats follow her around, let her be invisible, or make her bark on a first date with a mortal. She never understood why he did it, as she was always nice to him. But now, almost forty years later, she came to the conclusion that he was just an asshole, who loved to demolish someone's confidence. And the worst part was, that he was amazing at it. So, yeah, she doesn’t understand why he is standing in front of her with a pleading look.

“Y/N, I’m sorry for everything b–”

“I won’t help you.” She just let out dryly before she looked back at the little cafe. Y/N couldn’t believe how he had to ruin her perfect day and be the reason to waste an amazing cup of hot chocolate. Shaking her head at the universe for making her day so much worse, she started to walk away, hoping that Harry would leave her alone but of course, he didn’t. How could she expect anything else from him?

“Y/N!” He called out her name when he started to follow her around the narrow streets and the dark clouds above them, seconds away from pouring cold rain at them. “Please, you’re the only one who can break curses.”

She laughed loudly. “A curse? Why doesn’t it surprise me that someone would curse Harry Styles?” Her steps slowed down when a thunder erupted from above her but she never stopped walking away. “What have you done to piss someone off like that?”

“It was… a bad date.” He hesitated but Y/N didn’t seem to notice, as she continued to strut away from him, or at least she tried, as Harry seemed to be determined. He wasn‘t going to let her go that easily, much to her dismay.

“Funny how you don't need someone to ruin your date. You can do that all by yourself.” She said, clearly referring to the date he had ruined for her.

“I deserved that but I really need your help. My magic– I can’t use it anymore.” He was begging, something Harry usually never did and never thought of doing ever again. The last time he had begged, was years ago, when he was still a little boy, begging his mother to let him go play outside with the other mortal children when she strictly prohibited it. His lips were quivering, his eyes filled with tears, as he clasped his hands together, while he whined out a series of pleads that were never heard. As a child, he never understood why his mother wouldn’t let him go out, but as he got older, he understood why he wasn’t allowed to. Harry knew his mother never allowed him to, because she didn’t want people to be suspicious if something went wrong and she didn’t want anybody to get hurt, especially those fragile mortals. Meanwhile, Harry was glad, he never made human friends, as it would never go anywhere. They were aging, hurting, and even dying, while Harry aged much slower, was able to heal himself and even death wasn’t lasting. He saw them as baggage, nothing more and why would he purposefully carry something like that around, right?

“Not my problem, if you’re stupid enough to piss off a witch.” Y/N shook her head at him, as she couldn’t believe how dumb a person could be. He must have known that the witch was a powerful one, yet he dared to get close to her, knowing damn well that he wasn’t likable. Hell, Y/N couldn’t understand how so many girls were always walking after him in college. What did they see in a pretentious, stubborn, unfunny, and arrogant narcissist? She guessed it must have been solely his looks, that threw girls to him as mosquitoes did. whenever they saw a brightly shining lamp in the midst of the darkness. “You know not everyone can block off your source, or unbreak the curse.” That was indeed true, as most witches had their areas they were good at. Some liked to make potions, cast spells or break curses.

“That’s why I’m here. I need you.”

Her steps came to an almost immediate halt, before she turned to him on her heel, while her hair strands flew into her face, due to her fast movement. She eyed him up and down irritated before she raised her eyebrow in suspicion. “Your magic seems fine to me. I mean how else did you find me?” Her hands gestured towards his hands as if she was able to see him producing fire or any other magical thing. Y/N was convinced he wasn’t here for that and him losing his magic was just an act. And she wasn’t going to fall for it. She wasn’t going to fall for his childish tricks again.

Awkward about what he could answer her, he scratched his neck and turned his gaze to the floor for a brief moment before regaining his courage. “I searched for your location before this mess.” He said the truth, he did look for her location in beforehand and he knew he could’ve come up with a lie but if she still were the same person from their college days, she’d see through him. A laugh wanted to escape his throat as he thought back to those days when he was convinced of her putting a spell on him. How else was she supposed to know every time he lied? It was impossible for her not to use her magic because no one ever was as good at detecting his lies. And he remembered the day when he had confronted her about it. Another lie was told by him, resulting only in her furrowing her eyebrows, shaking her head, and firmly stating a simple “no”. It made his blood boil, and thinking back he was impressed by her, but he’d never admit it. Harry used to be angry at her. She couldn’t be serious, could she? She had to be right about him, every fucking time. That’s when he snapped, pushed her towards the nearest wall, and asked her through gritted teeth how she knew that. And what followed, shocked him. Not only did she not back down, or get intimidated by him but revealed how he acted whenever he lied. She confessed how she noticed him running his thumb over his mermaid tattoo whenever he lied, and how he wasn’t able to look into her eyes. She was so certain, and Harry would’ve loved to deny it, but he didn’t know better himself. Did he do that? Really? And even now he catches himself, doing exactly what she knew so many years ago. It was awfully confusing to him, how a stuck up, goody-two-shoes saw that, and nobody else did, even when they knew him longer and better.

“What? Why?” Curiosity was reflected in her eyes when she pulled her eyebrows together.

“I–”

“–you’re such a stalker, you know that? We haven’t seen each other in– like what– almost forty years and you still look for me?” She interrupted him before he even got the chance to lie and for a split second, he was relieved about that. She didn’t trust her gut feeling, because it always seemed to be so painfully correct. Wildly, she gestured with her arms, making Harry wonder what she was trying to say when to her it seemed so clear. She was gesturing towards her hometown, pointing at her surroundings, that she was familiar with, and not he. Why would he be interested in looking for her anyway? They never talked to each other, unless they were forced to and back then they weren’t friends. What reason could he possibly have to know her location? And if he said that he wanted to visit her due to him missing her, she’d laugh in his face, only stopping when she was close to suffocating. Never would he miss her, she’d rather believe the devil visiting her for a cup of tea.

“Forty years means nothing to us. We’re not human.” He sighed, dodging her question, as she was busy overthinking what just happened when she only wanted to visit her favorite cafe for a hot chocolate. Did the devil really hate her so much to put her in such misery? Wasn’t she allowed to forget about this arrogant witch, whose good looks all went to waste due to his obnoxious and unpleasant character? If she were powerful enough she’d block his magic source herself and he fully understood whoever did this to him. Harry probably deserved to lose whatever made him a witch, something he was so proud of being. He always bragged about his magic, bragged about how he was so much more powerful than those human beings, and used various spells to entertain a party crowd, to gain popularity. It gave him strength, knowing that he was above them, while Y/N hated it. Because whenever a witch came along, the story always ended with blood and tears and she was sick of being the cause of someone’s tears, let alone death. She wanted to be a mortal and would like to experience her magic source getting blocked. She’d feel like a mortal, just like he did no– wait, he was like a mortal right now, right?

“You’re like one right now, aren’t you?” An evil smirk plastered across her face, finally processing and understanding how helpless Harry was. But she didn’t feel pity, she was rather amused at his situation. It was even kind of poetic, considering how much he loved to be a witch. And now she could do anything to him, and he would fully be defeated by her with no chance of seeking revenge or defending himself. “I mean I could do anything to you and you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself, right?”

“Y/N.” He warned her, his voice stern and a frown overshadowing his charming features.

“Maybe you’d like to live like a mouse, or are you interested in losing your voice?” She turned around and began to walk away while thinking about what she might do to him. Excitement taking over her, making her voice rise a few octaves, her eyes sparkling and her fingers gripping her book harder. A part of her knew that she was just messing around with him but it didn’t stop her from imagining how great it would be, seeing him as a mouse or never having to hear his obnoxious voice again, that sounded too attractive for his asshole persona.

“Y/N, plea–”

“–no wait! How do you feel about being blind? I think that could be an amazing experience for you. Then you could focus more on your other sen–”

“–oh, for fucks sake! Don’t even think about it, unless you want to lose your familiar.” His voice sounded warning, almost daring her to continue with her schemes. When he saw her shocked expression, he slowly gained his usual cockiness again, knowing well that even without his powers, he still had the upper hand. Thank god, he never did anything without a plan.

A cold shiver ran down her spine and nervously her mouth popped open, as she tried to breathe steadily. “What did you just say?” She asked, not believing how quiet her voice had gotten and not understanding how he’d dare to do something like this to Jupiter, her cat, her familiar, for crying out loud. He knew what it meant if a familiar dies, yet he was willing to do that to her. How dare he?

“Is this how fast I can get you speechless, love?” He strapped his tongue, before grinning widely at her shocked expression.

“What the fuck did you do? What have you done to Jupiter?” She hissed when he pointed his finger towards her, to signal her to be quiet.

He shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing that can’t be fixed. It’s just a little bit of poison. I even have the antidote and I’m nice enough to give it to you. Only if you help me, that is.”

“You son of a bi–”

“–choose your next words wisely unless you want your cat to die.” She stayed quiet, biting on her lip harshly to let him finish talking. “That’s what I thought. So, are you interested in helping me out?”

“Fuck you.” Y/N insulted him, as she looked away, furiously crossing her arms over her chest. For a moment Harry only stared at her, waiting for an actual answer. But she didn’t find the right words to say, not even saying a “yes”, neither a “no”. He really got her trapped, didn’t he? Jupiter will die without an antidote and she was sure she could make one on her own, but she didn’t know what poison he had used on her. It would take her forever to cure her cat, might even take her too long.

He laughed at her silence as she was defeated and happily whistled in her face. “I’ll come around tomorrow evening. Be prepared.” With that he walked away elegantly, right before the heavy rain started pouring from the clouds, drenching Y/N as she watched him walk back into the cafe. Anger, annoyance, and worries clouded her mind, making it impossible for her to think straight. How was he able to put her in such a situation? What had he done to Jupiter? Will she be able to break his spell? Many questions ran through her head but no answers could be found. Even though she wasn’t able to form a proper sentence, she was determined to get the antidote, and then she was going to curse Harry into the pits of hell. Literally.

Y/N hated it, she hated it so much. Since she came back home yesterday, her clothes soaking wet from the rain, a headache haunting her ability to think properly, and with a wave of undeniable anger, she felt like vomiting, crying, and even punching the walls till she had splitters in her knuckles. How did this happen to her?

She barely had any contact with anyone, whether it was mortals or anyone of her kind.

She was always alone, isolated herself from the danger, and kept others safe by not walking around recklessly.

Y/N only used magic when it was absolutely necessary and even her familiar, Jupiter, started to get bored by her lack of action in life. She wasn’t necessarily happy with the way she lived, as she slowly fell into disrepair but she’d rather go nuts in her own home than risk people’s lives or having a witch, or a hunter, trying to kill her. Why was it so hard for the universe to understand that she only wanted a peaceful life? Wasn’t her world balanced enough? Did she really need this kind of drama? And from all the witches that could have come to her, it really had to be him? Harry fucking Styles, who used to be her personal bully for no goddamn reason in her younger, more naive years. It felt like a sick joke to her and an unfunny one at that. If it were up to her, she would’ve never seen his ass ever again after graduating from college, and she was good at hiding, considering how small the world is if you’ve such a long life. You never know who you might run into, and she was good at dodging unwanted guests for 40 years. No one ever visited her, she couldn’t even remember when someone actually came over and she liked that, as she loved to not have her private space invaded.

But here she is now, sitting next to an arrogant son of a bitch, who had a huge grin on his face while staring directly into her eyes. He truly loved holidng her gaze and she didn’t know what to think of it.

But one thing she knew for certaon; fuck the universe. It never brought her any good anyway.

“Nice place you’ve got.” He examined her living room thoroughly, as he was sitting on her yellow fabric couch. “A little… obsolete maybe.” His eyes wandered from her wooden ceiling to her dark, big windows to her gigantic bookshelf that took up an entire wall. He was fascinated seeing that she still reads so much. Harry remembered how he would sometimes see her in the library, nose deep buried in a book but he would’ve never guessed what an impressive collection she has at home. There were not only books for witches but also books for mortals that only served the purpose of entertainment. Harry used to read those too, especially Charles Bukowski, but lately, he found himself less interested in them. Maybe it was because he had other plans these days or that he learned a long time ago that those stories don’t even exist for mortals. So how could he ever live in such a fantasy?

His hand touched one of the many green plants in her house when she slapped his hands away before answering him. “It’s cozy, not obsolete!” She put the plant back to its place, patting the leave that he was just touching, making him chuckle. She was ridiculous to him. It was just a plant and not an animal or child he had offended and now needed some consulting. “Besides, don't touch anything.” Silently, she rolled her eyes at him, slowly rubbing her feet on the colorful rug underneath her, warming them as the white socks didn’t seem to do much. No matter what someone said about her place, she loved it. It was small, cozy and she had a big garden with various vegetables, fruits, and flowers and a small pond, where ducks would find their way in, so Y/N could feed them with her daily, freshly baked bread. She truly loved the way she lived, but she also had to admit that it got cold very quickly once the temperatures start dropping, and if she were completely honest, it could get lonely, as well.

“How many books do you have?” He asked, nodding towards the shelf with his head. “Must be a million.” Harry exaggerated, as he opened up his arms widely with a goofy smile, knowing it would annoy her. His dazzling green eyes were watching her intensely, as he tried to point out differences from when he had met her for the first time. She still looked the same, given to their slow aging, but even the way she walked, talked, or presented herself seemed to be so awfully similar. But she seemed closed off, as if she built up thick walls around her, not letting anyone peek inside. He remembered how back then, she was a bubbly, lively, and friendly girl, who seemed so excited to learn anything about the world, whether it was the supernatural or the human one. She never kept anything to herself, as she was always talking about her day or plans and sometimes it really annoyed him. He just didn’t understand how someone can be so happy to be alive and have this much energy inside of them? While he was still unsure about how she managed to be so overjoyed, he was more concerned about what had happened to her, which made her change so drastically. Who could change someone so much? And as bad he tried to suppress thoughts, he wondered if it was his influence, or has she changed much later after meeting him?

“No wonder why you failed math twice. That’s not even near a million.” She rolled her eyes at him, at his overly annoying attitude that he always made sure to show. Something about him made her so angry, that she had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep the degrading names to herself. She needed the antidote and when she saw Jupiter, his frustrating face suddenly wasn’t enough to make her mad anymore, or at least till he opened his mouth again.

“I was joking, darling.”

“I wasn’t.” She dryly replied and dared to stare at him longer than she had intended. Y/N couldn’t believe how he still was the same person after 4p years. He should’ve matured a bit or learned how to read the room and know his place but he never did, apparently. Or she has never changed and he still knew exactly how to make her erupt like a volcano.

Awkwardly, he touched his neck, blowing the hot air inside his lungs out, while he nervously looked around her house, when he felt the intensity of her glare on him. Back then, she would’ve walked away and ignored him without giving him a dirty look. She truly wasn’t how she used to be and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. “Alright, maybe we should start working?” It surprised him seeing her be so rude back when she used to talk with professors after class and never interrupt them, even if she really had to be somewhere else. Y/N would patiently listen, as she hated to make people feel uncomfortable. That’s why Harry raised his eyebrows up his forehead, forming lines on his forehead. She was clearly not in the mood to catch up, neither did she like his jokes, so he might as well do what he needed her for. He needed her to break the curse, for now, even if she wasn’t too thrilled to see him

“Sure. The sooner we’re done, the faster you can leave.” Her voice had grown so cold, not the way how she used to hum every single one of her words, as if she was a bird singing in the early morning hours while basking in the golden sun rays. But it didn’t stop him from trying to amuse her. Who knows how many hours they’d be forced to spend together, so they might as well try to somewhat get along, right? Maybe even give it a shot to reminisce about their old, shared days.

“Leave? I thought about sticking around for a while. It’s quite a nice town, with very interesting people.” When the word “interesting” had left his mouth, he winked at her, making her blood boil stronger and roll her eyes back harder, wishing they’d get stuck, so she wasn’t forced to look into his enormous grin, knowing that’s all it takes for him to piss her off. “Maybe I could get a house next to yours? Just a little bit more modern, to throw parties and stuff.” Even though Harry didn’t like parties too much, or at least not as much as he used to, he knew that she hated them. Even back in college she hardly ever went to one, just once, for unknown reasons to him, she decided to turn up for a frat party one of his friends had hosted on a warm summer night. He remembered it clearly, even remembered the way she looked, what she wore and if he concentrated hard enough he was able to smell her hypnotizingly sweet scent that she was wearing that day. His heart painfully started beating faster in his ribcage while he thought about everything that had happened that night and wondered how everything turned so sour afterward. It was a shame.

Y/N snorted. “Do that and I’ll shove a frog down your throat.” She was being completely serious, considering the harsh tone of her voice and the cold stare she gave him. How was he so good at getting under her skin? And it was worse knowing that she wanted so badly to brush the perfect curl away from his handsome face, so she could have a better look at him. No matter how he had treated her in the past, she had to admit that his looks could charm anyone. Well, almost. She wasn’t going to get fooled by him again and the way his smile and those sparkly eyes seemed to weaken her knees. But she guessed that her reaction was expected. After all, she was just a witch with feelings and desires and he was a handsome man, who would’ve been perfect to live out a fantasy of hers if he could keep his mouth shut for once.

“I’d like to see you try, Barky.” He laughed.

“Stop calling me that!”

“Or what?” Harry said that in the most playful way he could, intensifying his stare as his smile turned into a shitfaced and lopsided grin. But Y/N had not seen this as playful.

Y/N folded her arms in front of her chest and snorted loudly with her tongue. “Are you threatening me? Because if so, you can kiss your magic goodbye.” A burning sensation brewed inside her when he was still grinning, not even an ounce of remorse flickering in his green orbs.

Harry bitched with his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal, because he knew exactly that he had the upper hand. “And you can kiss your Julius– Juniper, or something– goodbye.” While he was trying to remember the name of her precious cat, she frowned deeper, forming multiple wrinkle lines on her forehead. What was going to happen to her precious familiar if Y/N wouldn’t help him? She’d have to watch Jupiter suffer and eventually die because she wouldn’t find an antidote in time. Only Harry could provide her with that and no matter how naive and dense Y/N looked, she wasn’t and she understood the situation well.

“Jupiter, you asshole. His name’s Jupiter.” She spits as if venom was dancing on her tongue and for a minute she wished it was to be something poisonous. Maybe she was being a little bit dramatic, knowing that she could easily drink one of her toxicants, whenever she wanted the death to knock on her door, so she could leave Harry startled and shocked. But would Harry be surprised when he knew that every witch tended to be dramatic and stubborn? “Why would you do that? What have you done to him? He’s been sick for days now!”

“Not telling yet.”

“Why not? You’re already here and I’m trying to help you!” Furiously she pointed at the many books laying in front of them, that were kept wide open. “What else would you need?”

He laughed a humorless laugh and shook her head as if she was a small child who did not understand the most understandable things in the world. “Because once I give you the antidote, I won’t have the upper hand and I don’t really trust you.” He explained in a monotone voice.

She sighed. “The feeling’s mutual.” Y/N bit her tongue and rolled her eyes. She truly didn’t trust him, for a good reason, as her distrust and dislike were established during their shared college years.

“Well, I–“

“–can we just get started, please? I wasn’t keeping in touch with you for a reason and this here” She pointed her finger between the two. “is something I never wanted to happen and I was glad it didn’t in the past 40 years.” Surprised, Y/N flinched at her own words, as she realized how harsh she sounded. Even though she was being sincere, she wondered if she was taking it too far? Was she being petty? After all, he never physically hurt her, he just loved to poke fun at her when they were a little bit younger and still does, as it amused him seeing her so furious.

But the longer he watched her move around her, the more he understood how far she dislikes actually went and if he didn’t know her better, he’d say that she hated him. Harry couldn’t deny it but he actually felt offended and tried hard not to scoff. What has he ever done to her for her to hate him like that? Maybe he was being mean sometimes or liked to poke fun at her but was he really that bad?

Hesitantly he simply nodded his head when he tried to remember their college years. His heartbeat quickened when he thought back to that one night however he fast to lock his thoughts away. She wasn’t thinking of the incident 40 years ago and it probably still doesn’t have any effect on her now. It still didn’t change the fact that she had hurt him, not for her lack of response, but how she led him on.

“Here are my books, read your way through and let me know if you find anything interesting.” She tossed a couple of more books towards him, purposefully hitting the couch next to him before she turned her back towards him and started to make herself comfortable on her rug.

“You can sit on the couch. I’ll go sit on the floor.” Harry felt stupid saying that, because there was clearly enough space for her to sit, yet she chose to take a seat on the cold and uncomfortable-looking floor that was decorated with the ugliest rug Harry had ever seen. He didn’t like the plattern, nor the obnoxious colors, as they didn’t seem to mash well together. 

He wouldn’t mind her sitting next to him but if she did, he wasn’t going to force her, that’s why he chose to watch her be so cramped on her colorful carpet.

She didn’t look up but shook her head before fully burying her face into one of her books and shielding her face completely from Harry.

He sighed, rubbed at his temples, and tried to read the many pages of the book that was laying on his lap but he couldn’t concentrate with the thick tension lingering in the air. He swears he could cut it with a knife, or at least that’s how it felt to him and if he had to guess; she probably didn’t feel better.

Harry stared at her while she was engulfed in her book, wondering if he could ease the situation. Y/N looked so peaceful, not the rude person she has become but her younger and innocent self. Somehow it eased her knowing that she had lowered the book again. “Do you remember college?” The words already bubbled out of his mouth with no time for him to react.

She rolled her eyes but never let go of her book. “Is our history going to help your dilem–“

“–no. But do you remember? Because I do.” He urged, putting the book on the small coffee table.

Y/N wanted to ignore him but somehow she was intrigued to know what he was going to say. “No, do you?”

For a second, insecurity flickered its way through his brain. Did she actually not remember or was she messing with him? His intuition always knew best that’s why he guessed she knew, even if his brain tried to tell him otherwise. She had to, or at least that’s what he told himself because he didn’t want to be the only still thinking about them. “Yeah, I do. At least most of it.”

“Really? Like what?” She raised her eyebrow and mirrored his movements by putting her book away as well and crossed her legs like a pretzel to be more comfortable.

“I remembered you spilling your coffee on my journal.” He remembered the day so clearly. They were at the nearest coffee shop, the hot spot for the caffeine-addicted young adults with a lack of sleep, when space was crowded and loud and nobody seemed to spend any more than a few minutes, except for them. Most people didn’t use the shop to study, at least not during the rush hours but somehow the two witches did and ended up having to share the booth, where the WiFi connection was the best. Harry was writing his notes into his little journal while Y/N furiously tapped with her pen against her computer, trying her hardest to find the answer to one of her math problems. She was stressed and Harry could see that clearly by the crease between her brows, the way she pursed her lips, and bounced her left leg up and down quickly. Whenever she’d look up he’d try to look away and it seemed she didn’t catch him staring at her. He had to admit, he always found her quite beautiful, it was hard not to. She had pretty hair, that he wanted to comb through with his hand, a unique nose that fitted her face perfectly, and those mesmerizing eyes that he could get lost in. Something about her seemed so magical and now thinking back, he had to laugh. It’s a bit ironic, isn’t it? He slowly put himself back into reality, catching her embarrassed face in front of her and when she tried to defend herself, he put his hand up to silence her. “I didn’t mind it.” And he really didn’t. Harry guessed that she was already having a really bad day and excitedly knocked her drink on his journal when she just wanted to put her pen back into her purple pencil case. When Harry saw that she wanted to leave, disappointment overcame him as he hadn’t found the guts to talk to her, after the hour or so they’d spent sitting silently next to each other. So in a way, he was glad she was that clumsy because it gave them a reason to talk to each other. And they did, much longer than both of them would’ve expected since they were strangers.

“Or I remember how you bought me something for my birthday.” This had happened a couple of weeks later when he was having a bad day. His alarm didn’t set off, making him oversleep and miss his first period when he needed the attendance so badly to pass the class. He still tried to get ready but found the guy from last night, still sleeping in his bed. He didn’t mind them staying over but he just wasn’t used to that, as most of them would rush out the room while he was still resting, and to his nonexistent luck, he woke up when Harry was trying to brush his teeth with the tiny amount that was left in his tube. He had to go grocery shopping again. Harry remembered that day so clearly, as big snowflakes fell from the sky, blinding him, the minute he stepped out of his place. Frustrated he had kicked a bin outside when he saw Y/N approach. From the corner of his eye, he fought a glimpse of her red scarf, that practically was covering her face, as the flushed cheeks indicated that she was freezing.

She shrugged her shoulders, trying to play coy. “Everybody would’ve done that.”

“My friends didn’t.” Harry rolled his eyes when he thought of the jerks he used to be friends with and slightly wondered what they were doing now, as they had gotten close to their retirement now. He wondered if they already had grandchildren and if they still had the same childish attitude as they used to forty years ago. They were the reason why Y/N left Harry’s place upset that day. After giving him a ring that she had found in the thrift store, thinking that Harry would like it and fire a minute she could’ve sworn he liked it but the second his friends approached, he had put the ring in his pocket and shushed her away.

Y/N laughed bitterly when she looked at her lap, where both of her hands were placed. “You didn’t like my present anyways.” Her thumbs were quietly battling each other when Harry swallowed a big clump down his throat. He knew what Y/N was referring to and he felt so guilty about it.

Harry shook his head. “No! No, I did it’s just–”

“–I wasn’t popular enough.” She looked him in the eye again, hoping she’d find a tiny piece of him looking at her as if she was crazy, and that it wasn’t his reason to never wear the ring in public. But he didn’t. He looked more guilty than ever and it didn’t make Y/N feel better. When he tried to speak, Y/N cut him off quickly, as she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Enough was said and done anyway. “Don’t worry I get. How could we ever be friends, right? I’m just boring old Y/N, nothing special or someone to remember.”

He shook his head harshly. “But I do.” Slightly Harry hesitated before he continued talking, as he wasn’t sure how she’d react. “I remember our night together, as well. Actually, that must be my favorite memory of ours.” He confessed, biting his lip from talking too much about it. It was embarrassing for him to admit it, but he remembered it so clearly that it could’ve happened just a few hours ago. How he wished it had happened just a few hours ago, giving him the time to make it right this time around.

But he couldn’t, so all he was able to do was reminisce the memory.

It was an average night, another frat party hosted by one of his friends. People getting drunk. Some making out and others dancing the night away, when he had seen her. His mouth flew open, not because of the way she looked but because she was at a party, which he had never seen her before. That’s why he didn’t think twice before he tasted up to her, to make sure she was alright and wasn’t just lost. When she reassured him that she was alright, a tingly feeling didn’t leave his body and he wondered if she was there because of him. And what happened afterward made him think that she was, as kisses were shared and their hands were busy with exploring each other’s bodies, finding the sweet spots that would make each other weak. He never knew lips could taste so sweet, making him so addicted to her taste and even after they were done, he later in bed next to her, holding her close to his chest and admiring her beauty. She felt so unreal and he couldn’t believe what had just happened, as she always seemed like the shy girl who would never make a move but Harry was glad she did because he felt too insecure to do it also.

But now he wondered if the night was truly a good idea when he saw her shocked expression. How did they end up here?

“Of course you do! You only have a one-track mind! But I do not and I remember you ruining my first date, I remember you making me trip over my own feet and falling onto my face in front of everyone and I also remember you being an asshole and making fun of me for everything I’ve done with your friends! You made me an outcast, more than I already felt that I was.” Her voice was a lot louder than before and a vein popped up on her neck, indicating the anger inside of her. Furiously she waved her arms around, as he watched her in shock. Why did he mention that? It was already embarrassing enough for her to know that she only went there for him. “You know what? Leave. I’ll find something on my own and I’ll let you know once I do.”

“Y/N–“

“–leave, before I make you.” Her voice was stern, and she coldly watched him leave with an apologetic look in his eyes but she didn’t care. How dare he bring that night up when he was the one denying ever sleeping with her in front of everyone and made her feel as if she was being used? Whatever, or however, it led to them clinging to each other’s bodies breathlessly, Y/N knew it wasn’t going to happen again.

Guilt. That’s all Y/N felt in that moment, as guilt seemed to eat her up from the inside while she was caressing a sick Jupiter. His head was laid on her couch, while his shortness of breath took even more of his energy away. He hardly made any noises or moved around the house or the garden, worrying Y/N more.

That’s why she, partly, felt guilty. Maybe she shouldn’t have let her anger take the upper hand and just worked this out with Harry. Maybe then Jupiter would be better now.

The other part wondered why she had been so rude to him. After all, she was used to him poking fun at her but she didn’t think he’d bring up that night. It was a one-time thing, even Harry said so the day after and Y/N learned to accept it along the way. If it never was anything eventful to him, then how dare he say that he remembered the night the best?

“How are you doing, baby?” Y/N shushed when he buried his face deeper into the soft surface, while her fingers massaged small circles into the back of his head. Usually, he would have responded to her by melting into her touch or perking his ears by, solely because of her voice. But right now he didn’t even move, only letting the pressure of her hand soothe him. “Not great?” She asked, hoping for a clear answer to an obvious question. When he didn’t reply either, her heart sank deeper into the pits of her stomach.

She can’t lose him. Not only was he her little helper, but also the only companion she had.

That’s why Harry appeared a little while later at her front doorstep, with his usual grin but if she didn’t know any better she’d say she found guilt in his eyes. Even if it was just the tiniest bit.

“Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?” He asked, trying to mask his urge to apologize away. The way she seemed so stressed, made him feel guilty. Because after all, it was his fault. It was his doing. If it wasn’t for him, she would’ve lived her life the way she’d before with no disturbance and she wouldn’t constantly form those worry wrinkles on her forehead.

She scoffed. “I did it for forty years before you showed up on my doorsteps.” Dangerously she pointed her finger at his chest and then at herself, before sliding the door wider open, so he could walk in. With big footsteps, he strutted his way back inside her cozy living room, which seemed to be a lot warmer than it had been the last time, as the fireplace seemed to be lit and the fresh smell of cinnamon lingered in the air.

“That’s true.” He hesitantly agreed with her as he watched her walk into her little kitchen, where the door was wide open, revealing a tea kettle on the stove. Harry guessed that’s where the cinnamon scent came from. His eyes lingered on her, as he watched her carefully filling up two cups. With her hands, she pushed her silky hair behind her ears, as the ponytail couldn’t keep every strand from her face. He wondered why she called him again when the past days he has been doubting ever hearing from her again. But the answer was as clear as day, when he saw the sick cat laying on the couch, crouched into a ball, with no intention of moving. Now he felt guilty when he saw the innocent animal suffering from his consequences. His cold rings made a sound when they came in contact, as he formed a fist, to keep his emotions at bay. He has become cruel, hasn’t he? But he already knew that when he didn’t flinch when it came to killing other witches. It’s almost scary to think how easy it was to take someone’s life and that he had taken multiple. Would she ever believe him, if he’d confess that to her or would Y/N think that he was bluffing? Either way, Harry knew that he had done those cruel crimes and a part of him will never forgive himself, even though he didn’t do it because of an unsaturated bloodlust but because he needed their powers to complete a spell. A spell, that would bring justice to people who didn’t deserve to die yet. A bit hypocritical, isn’t it? He wanted to bring people back while he killed others. How could he ever judge whose life is more worth than the other? Yet, he did it.

To soothe his throbbing headache, that always formed whenever he overthinks too much, he tried to rub the kitty's ears, hoping to get a reaction from him. But he didn’t do anything, besides breathing, and he was shocked when he didn’t even fight him back. He was that powerless and Harry had to swallow a big lump down his throat. Jupiter needed the antidote. Fast.

No wonder why Y/N hated him. If she’d done something like this to his familiar, Millie, a beautiful bat, he would’ve gone crazy. She was his companion, the one that occasionally saved his ass from getting hurt. So maybe he deserved to feel guilty for putting Y/N and her cat through that, but Y/N wasn’t even aware of his feelings when he was so good at masking them away. Especially now when she saw Harry touching Jupiter, while she brought both of them a cup of tea. Instantly she tensed up, alarmed if he tried to do something worse to him because at this point she couldn’t read his intentions. Or ever, if Y/N was being honest.

She was ready to throw the burning hot tea at Harry if she had to and she wasn’t going to hesitate. He wouldn’t get away with worsening Jupiter’s state, as Y/N constantly feared how much longer he had till his breathing would stop.

But to his luck, he didn’t harm the cat, instead, he softly caressed the white fur and slowly rubbed smooth circles onto his skin.

Usually, Y/N would be in awe, staring at such an adorable interaction but her mouth turned sour when she saw his satisfied face. It bothered her how he looked so careless while doing so. Doesn’t he feel any empathy for the sick cat? Does he think that that'll make everything better?

“Don’t touch him.” Y/N only let him know, catching him off guard as he didn’t hear her approaching him. He pulled his hand away from him, dividing his attention to her, as she put the white cup on the coffee table. A tiny drop fell from the porcelain and landed right on her black jeans but she didn’t seem to notice when she took a seat opposite of Harry, creating some distance. Not as much as she did previously but enough for bystanders to see her obvious dislike towards him. “He’s feeling bad enough.”

“I wasn’t try–”

“–wasn’t trying to what? Kill him this time around?” She scoffed, as she rolled her eyes at him. There was no excuse for why he did what he did because if Jupiter would die, it would leave Y/N completely alone, with no little helper or her magical companion. Of course, there had been witches who had lost their familiars, and most of them came out just fine but it’ll take time to get over such a heavy loss and it’ll take a while to fix the toll that it took on their magic. Besides, Y/N would be completely alone. She wasn’t surrounded by family or friends, she was already lonely but without him, she’d simply run wild. To talk to no one seemed like such a bad nightmare and she couldn’t imagine being left alone with her thoughts all the time.

Harry sighed, when he rubbed his sweaty hands on his brown, baggy pants, trying so hard to find the right words and he immediately came up with good excuses, threats and even lies but when he looked into her eyes, they had gone down the drain. Something about her made his heartbeat pick up on speed, and somehow he felt nervous. Something he hadn’t felt in a very long time and it scared it but he wasn’t really shocked. He had feared when he came to her that she’d still have the same effect on him as she did back in their college years and he hated it.

It had been 40 years, and he still couldn’t deny the warmth that grasped him when he caught a glimpse of her. What was wrong with him? After all, no one ever left behind such a lasting image but somehow, the once shy girl he had gotten to know for three years, did.

“I know this may not mean a lot to you but I promise” He stopped to grasp her hand. His movements were too fast for Y/N to see them coming, catching her clearly off guard which contributed to him clutching her hand tightly, just for a second. “I promise, I won’t let him die.” For a moment she considered looking away from him, ignoring him or even making her disappear but the earnestness in his voice changed her mind and she forced herself to look into his green eyes. The usual harshness or playfulness was nowhere to be seen, he looked rather soft, rather vulnerable, she may even dare to say so.

Slowly she nodded, steadying her breath as her mind was trying to catch up on everything that had happened. After 40 years the guy, whom she was madly in love with in college, comes back. But he had also rejected her and poisoned her familiar on purpose to get her help him.

This sounded like a cheap, Halloween episode of a telenovela and somehow her head started hurting when she thought of it like that. Her life was truly crazy and she couldn’t stop herself from blaming him for bringing her all the crazy.

Harry still held her hands tightly, their legs were touching each other, due to his scooting closer to her and when he saw her open her mouth, he hoped he’d forgive her, as foolish as it may sound. “Over there.” Was all she said breathlessly, even a little bit irritated.

He furrowed his eyebrows confused. “What?”

“The books are over there.” She let go of his hand, awkwardly coughing to mask her embarrassment away and point towards her bookshelf.

Of course she wasn’t going to forgive him, but he couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t sure if he was going to forgive himself, after everything but why would it matter? His souls belonged in hell from the start. He’d burn nevertheless when his time comes. “I know.” He laughed. “I can see them.” His intense stare made her feel exposed and the smell of his cologne gave her a dejavu, so she stood up quickly to run towards her shelf. He still smelled the same, she noticed and she wondered if he still used the same cologne or if it was just the way he usually smelled. Either way it felt too intimate for her own liking.

“No, I’d been searching on my own and I think we can narrow your problem down to those books. They’re our best shot at finding a way to lift the curse. I think.” She really hoped she was right, not only for Jupiter’s sake but also because of her own. She pointed her fingers towards a section of books and when Harry stepped closer his eyes widened.

“Don’t you think I need more enhanced books?” He scoffed, crossing his arms in front of her chest. Was she being serious when she picked those? Most witches used those for practice, for jokes to mess with others, not to lift curses. It couldn’t be so easy, could it?

She shrugged her shoulders, when she picked one up and walked towards her couch again. “I don’t think so. You said, she used a rune, right?” Reluctantly he nodded. “Then it wasn’t a strong spell, rather something quick that can be broken easier than cursing rituals. If she meant for you to never use magic again, then she would’ve done something else.” Y/N argued, while he did not try to get the last word by correcting her. She most likely wanted to harm him, she just didn’t have the time. After all, she was dying but Y/N didn’t need to know that. “Besides how stubborn does she have to be over a bad date, right?”

A small laugh escaped Harry’s plush lips at her statement. “We witches are very stubborn. It’s in our nature, I suppose.” Y/N truly had no idea what Harry was capable of and that relieved him because he’d rather be a bully than a murderer, even if he had his reasons. She wouldn’t understand him and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t understand himself either if he could think rationally.

“I guess so.” Y/N murmured when she felt attacked, even though he didn’t talk in a teasing manner, nor was he looking judgmentally at her. Yet she wondered if he was referring to their incidents and how she still held a grudge over him. Was she taking it too far? She lowered her gaze, when Harry’s grin dropped.

“Di–”

“–we should get started!” And with those words she opened the one in her hand quickly before she started reading, or at least she was good at pretending to read.

Harry sighed, when she didn’t look up anymore and confusion rushed over his body. He only saw her tensing up and her eyes opening widely, signaling that she was uncomfortable. Did he say something wrong? He really wanted to find out what just happened and what he had missed but he knew he wouldn’t find any answers, knowing how confusing she was. He didn’t even get answers from over 40 years ago and he wasn’t going to get any now. That’s why he dropped the topic, grabbed a book and made himself comfortable, in hopes to find the solution to his dilemma.

As he was trying to read, he heard the cat breathing harshly that somehow matched Y/N’s and for some time, she enjoyed his company, just the way she enjoyed the company of strangers in a cafe, whenever she was there to read.d It made the words roll off her tongue so much easier. For a moment too long he let his gaze linger, softening whenever a crease would form between her eyebrows, as she started to overthink, since she didn’t know why he was looking at her. Did he think she was weird, or even odd? In college everyone used to refer to her as the weird misfit. But little did she know, that Harry never saw her in that way and many others didn’t either. 

Though she knew what he was here for and what else he still had to get, something inside of him started twisting, letting his tummy do backflips. Somehow he remembered their old days together and he wondered if she still liked her fruit to be cut in little squares and if she still thought that Charles Dickens books were all too dense and dry, or if she had changed her mind. There was so much he didn’t know bout her that once came to him so naturally and even though he never tried to reach out to her, he felt guilt for everything that went wrong. Sometimes he wondered if anything would be different now if he had spoken up and never listened to his friends. He wished he had enough time to find a way to turn back time and make everything right and he could only hope that Y/N would do the same, if she had the chance to. But he figured it wasn’t of any importance as he had something else planned for her future already.

“Why are you staring at me?” She suddenly asked, breaking the silence. “I can’t read like that.” Her voice was calm with a tiny bit of annoyance. After all, she was helping him and he can be decent enough to try to participate.

Harry nodded his head. “Yes. Of course. Sorry.” And bit on his tongue to not let any more words come out. If she wanted to say something, she would, right?

While Y/N’s fingers were going from page to page, the only thing motivating her to keep going was Jupiter. She had to find a solution and she felt a tingly sensation inside of her, whenever she came closer.

Both witches worked in silence, while Y/N occasionally sipped on her tea and Harry just left it on the coffee table, completely forgetting about it, once he concentrated on the letters in front of him. The two were stubborn enough to keep going and quickly the sun was ready to disappear, when a loud thud chimed through her living room. Frightened, Y/N held her hand to her chest as she felt her heart racing and Harry looked around, to locate where the sound came from. But he quickly realised that it must have come from the front door, when Y/N’s eyes fixated on it. “Should I look?” He asked, unsure if she wanted him to do anything and usually he wouldn’t ask but just do it, as it was usually in his nature to protect those around him. A trait his mother always valued for her children to have, as she never wanted them to use their powers to harm. If Harry was honest, he wasn’t sure if he should still call himself that when lately he had only done harm to others.

Y/N shook her head. “I can do it.” She declined his offer because she was always the first one to say that she doesn’t need a man. Especially because she was a witch, a good one at that. Besides, she was the only one with working magic. If anyone could protect them, then it was her. With steady steps, she walked towards the front door until she could grab the cold doorknob. Slowly she steadied her breath and prepared herself to fight, just in case if she had to before twisting the metal.

It could’ve been adventurous people who liked to explore the woods, or maybe even her neighbours. She hadn’t seen them in a very long time, neither do they live close to her but it was a possibility, or maybe another witch felt her presence and wanted to drop by. She wouldn’t think that it was possible but if Harry had found her, then she really had to work on her protection spell and make the barrier harder.

But what she came face to wasn’t something he had expected. At first she stared into the dark woods, no one around until she looked down. For a moment she was scared, ready to slam the door shut but when her brain started processing, realisation hit her.

“Millie?” Harry asked from behind her, gently pushing Y/N away from the door to get a better look at the bruised bat. “Are you alright, love?” He crouched down, softly nudging his familiar with his nail polished fingers before taking her into his big hand.

“Millie.” She repeated shallowy, not trying to catch Harry’s attention as more and more memories came to her. “Millie.” She said again but this time with more strength behind her voice and more confidence. “She… she’s your familiar, right?”

Harry nodded, still looking at the tiny bat. “Yeah.” Carefully he rubbed her head, while he looked for any injuries on her wings, her most fragile body part. “How would you know?” He asked, still not looking up.

Y/N hesitated. How did she know his familiar? She had to stiffen her laughter when she remembered Millie always waiting in front of the school building when Harry had classes. Millie would never leave his side, even when he wasn’t sure of her presence. Back then Y/N still hadn’t found her Jupiter, and all she longed for was such a strong, loyal and beautiful companion and at times she’d catch herself feeling jealous when she saw Harry interacting with the bat. “She always waited for you outside the buildings.” Y/N finally answered when Harry was done inspecting the animal and grazed over to her.

“She did?”

Y/N nodded quickly. “Every time. She likes grasshoppers, right?” If Harry wasn’t confused before, he most definitely was confused right now. She knew what Millie liked? His eyes were following the smaller witch rum through her cabinets, until she found what she was looking for. A big jar filled with –Harry suspected them to be grasshoppers– came into his sight. “Would she like some?” She asked Harry, who still stood there perplexed, but Millie wasn’t and started flying around the jar and Y/N. For a brief moment he saw Y/N smiling, and immediately a comfortable warmth captured him. Even if he didn’t want to admit that, he had missed seeing her smile and her eyes crinkle when she did that. “Alright, girl. Take as many as you want.” With that she opened the jar, putting it on the coffee table for Millie to reach easily whenever she wanted.

“When did you meet her?” Harry asked, when he kept his gaze towards his feeding familiar. Even if Harry trusted Y/N, he wasn’t sure if she’d poison Millie. After all, he couldn’t and wouldn’t blame her if she did, after everything her little cat has to go through because of his selfish reasons.

She shrugged her shoulder, with tilted lips while she was watching Millie as well. “I think I met her on the day when I made the bird poop on y–”

“–I knew that was you!”

Y/N laughed, nodding her head. “Pretty sure she was following me around because of the grasshoppers in my bag.”

“I should’ve known.” Harry shook his head, when an almost invisible smile grazed his lips. He should’ve known that something was up, when the bird seemed to follow him around the whole day and embarrassed him at the most inconvenient moments. Of course, he has suspected Y/N but she was so damn good at lying, or he believed her too quickly.

“I don’t know how you didn’t. It was a pretty basic spell.” She shrugged, giving him an almost judging look.

He rolled his eyes. “Not as basic as you having a white cat. Were black cats out of stock?” A mocking tone in his voice made Y/N glare at him.

“Funny.” She laughed sarcastically, when she grabbed the book again, signaling Harry that she was done with the conversation. “And what are you? Wannabe-Batman?” Even though Y/N scoffed rudely, Harry bit into his bottom lip to keep his smile hidden. It was just so damn easy to piss her off.

“Batman doesn’t even have a bat as a pet. He’s scared of them.”

“Whatever smartass, just grab a book.” She rolled her eyes behind the book while she started reading the paragraph where she had stopped. Slowly, but surely Y/N was getting closer to an answer. She only needed to find a spell, a rune or maybe just a potion to make to break the rune and free his magic channel. Since Harry and her were natural witches, born with the powers of a witch, it was harder to detect where their magic came from. So she guessed it would be easier to look for a way to break the spell, instead of reopening his source. If he were a borrower, they would have hat to detect the demon who gave him the magic in exchange for his soul, which might have been a tricky way as demons loved to twist and turn everything they say to their liking and after not being in contact with one of those black eyed spirits, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to detect their shenanigans. Slowly she peeked over her book to see Harry deeply focused on his own and Jupiter still laying in the same position. The only difference was that Millie was gone and the sun seemed to be completely swallowed by the darkness. With one swift snap she turned every light on, catching Harry off guard. She guessed, he wasn’t expecting that.

“Have you found something?” He asked, when she got up, to look through her drawers again, not giving him an answer. So he tried again. “Do you know what to do?”

She only hummed, frustrating Harry. Why did she have to be so dramatic? Couldn’t she just tell him?

“Shit.” She cursed underneath her breath when she closed the drawer, folding her arms in front of her chest. Quickly Harry stood up but before he could get closer to her, to have a look at her drawers himself, she put her hand up. “I think I know what we need to do but I don’t have every ingredient.”

“What is missing?” He asked slowly.

She sighed. “We need a female frog’s eye, some mouse bones and some witches blood.”

“That shouldn’t be too ba–”

“–a witch who can use black and white magic.” She interrupted before Harry gulped. Should Harry confess that he had the right blood? He wasn’t sure if it was enough, but he must have enough on his clothes but how would he explain that to her? He couldn’t just confess what he had done, elsewise he would never get what else he needed from her and she was sure she’d kill him on the spot, while he couldn’t even defend himself. “We’ll never get that!”

He scratched the back of his head, felt the curls sticking onto him as sweat drops dripped down his back. “I might have some.”

Immediately her head shot towards her with a raised eyebrow and slightly shocked expression. “You do?” He nodded slowly. He hoped she wouldn’t ask him any further questions. “How?” But he wasn’t lucky. 

Harry tried his best to laugh it off as his brain screamed through various explanations. “A friend once gave me some.” And of course he had to come up with the most unbelievable one! Sceptically Y/N looked at him up and down, as she notices his thumb running over his tattoos. She was familiar with him doing that, as it was his habit whenever he lied. 

“A friend?” She could smell the bullshit from miles away, as no witch would give their blood, not even to a friend. They need what damage and harm it could bring if someone had would take possession of it. Their blood can be used for the most powerful spells, such as casting hell fire on earth. There was no way Harry just got it from a friend. When Y/N was thinking more and more about it, she came to the conclusion that the person wasn’t a friend but rather his victim and Harry could sense that, as her breath hitched in the back of her throat. Would he do that? 

Would she figure out his secret?

His heart was beating fast in his ribcage and he could practically hear it in his ear. “I… I know ho– how that sounds, alright? But she owned me a favour.” He lied through gritted teeth, hoping she’d ignore his trembling voice. Had she put something inside his tea or why was it so hard for him to lie to her? 

“I–” Y/N started but stopped herself to take a quick breather. Did it really care how he got it? Was she really going to question his morals when she used to torture innocent people as well to get what she wanted? Not too long ago, she’d rip people's fingernails off or break their teeth, just so she could cast a spell for her own selfish purposes and nobody was there to judge her. It was practically in their nature to harm and if Harry had done it, she shouldn’t be surprised, right? Even if she couldn’t see the dork from forty years ago harm anyone, she had to admit that he might not be the same person anymore and truly didn’t know what he was capable of and she had no time to figure it out when Jupiter was still suffering. “–ok.” She exhaled sharply. “It doesn’t matter. You have it. We need it. That’s all I need to know.” A heavy weight fell off of Harry’s broad shoulders, when he sighed in relief. He wasn’t sure if he’d continue lying to her if she’d ask more questions.

Thankfully Harry gave her a small smile and opened his mouth to say something when Millie came flying through the open kitchen window, interrupting their intense stare, as both of them focused on the flying bat above them.Harry couldn’t have been more thankful to his familiar because she didn’t know what he wanted to say, if he was honest. Worry was still visible on Y/N’s face as lines formed between her eyebrows but she didn’t say anything. She needed him to get out of her life and give Jupiter the antidote. At least that’s what she thought when she watched Millie fly closely to her familiar, before she dropped something next to his head. Before Y/N could react, Jupiter lifted his head to see a dead mouse laying next to him and Y/N realised what was happening. “I think Millie is trying to cheer him up.” Harry explained in a surprised voice. He hadn’t seen his familiar so awfully nice to strangers, especially cats as they seemed to love hurting bats. Just one little scratch on her wings, and it would leave her scarred forever, maybe even take her ability to fly, if it was serious. 

Y/N nodded, as she didn’t need his explanation. “I think they’re friends.” She said when she was taken back by Jupiter using his tiny bit of energy to look up at what Milli had brought him. He wouldn’t even look when Y/N was scratching his back or when Harry gave her attention and for a moment a sad smile adorned her face. “Maybe we could be too… one day.” She let her thoughts run wild, not caring what he was thinking about her statement, if he would even want that but Y/N was able to see a blooming friendship between them forty years ago and maybe they hadn’t lost their chance yet.  They’d have to unpack many things before that but that possibility wasn’t completely out the picture, as Harry didn’t seem to have any bad intentions in mind and he hadn’t done anything else to her white cat. So maybe he wasn’t all bad?  Harry smiled ruefully at her statement, as he knew that it was never going to happen. But yet he just gave her a tiny wink to an unknown Y/N. She was naive because, no matter how hard it felt for Harry to admit it, she didn’t suspect that her blood was going to be on his clothes next.

“You haven’t been to the witches market?” She shook her head, as he waited for her to get out of her house. Hesitantly she glimpsed inside her living room where Jupiter was laying on the rug, tiredly watching what Millie was doing, as she seemed to be eating one of the treats Y/N had prepared for her. “Where do you get your stuff from then?” He asked and waited for her to catch up with his pace.

She mumbled. “I don’t really do that kinda magic anymore. I’ve got everything I need right here.” Y/N tapped her foot against her own land, looking proudly at the small house with the much bigger garden. She hardly ever needed to buy anything, due to the many vegetables and fruits she had planted and she never needed anything for her witchcraft, because if she used her magic it was for the most simple things that didn’t require any books or ingredients, that were difficult to find, at all.

“You have a pond right in front of your house. Don’t think you could find a frog or a mouse here?” He pointed at the small water that was just a few feet’s away. “Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to buy those.”

Disgusted, she screwed up her face and put her arms on her hips, staring at him with an irritated look, as if he was talking utter nonsense. “I won’t harm an innocent animal!” She spoke obviously, almost as if he should have expected her answer.

“No?” She shook her head before rolling her eyes, giving him an answer to his phrased question. A part of her understood and knew where he came from. Most witches preferred to use animals, insects or plants straight from nature and they didn't shy away from taking them out of their natural habitat. Y/N used to be like that too. It’s hard not to, when every witch she had looked up to did that but the more years passed, the more she decided for herself that she wasn’t going to do that. Harming, hurting or killing animals wasn’t her preferred method, or at least she didn’t want to do that herself. “You’ve changed then. Because we even used to read from The Book Of The Damned in between classes for fun.” Harry continued, when he tightened his scarf around his neck, so he wouldn’t have to freeze in the cold winter.

Y/N shook her head, not trying to say no but to stop him from talking about that book. “We were being stupid. I shouldn’t have this book in the first place, or brought it with me.” It had been in her family for many, many centuries and if it were up to Y/N, she’d say for way too many. Even though it was their family’s pride and Y/N didn’t want to know how her great-great-grandmother had gotten a hold of those handwritten pages but to her, it had only brought pain and suffering for everyone. Nothing good came from it, as witches always fought about who it should belong to and even the spells required worse than sacrificing your loved ones. According to her, no one should have so much power and if she would’ve been wiser 40 years ago, she would’ve never taken and messed with it. But she was so naive and stupid.

“So, you still have it?” He asked carefully but when she nodded her head, he breathed the warm air out that he wasn’t even aware of holding in. He was relieved but the way she started frowning after hearing the book's title, he guessed she wasn’t as adventurous as she once used to be. Has something happened to her, or did she just grow up?

His eyes were still fixated on her and she sensed how he wanted to ask more questions about it, much to her dislike. That's why she picked up her pace and walked in front of him, directly towards her little pond. “So, should we walk or steal a car?” She asked instead and smiled to show him that she was just joking but he couldn’t see her and immediately he widened his eyes. It was impossible for them to walk and taking a car would take them days, something Jupiter clearly would not survive. Has it really been so long that she didn’t remember where it was?

“What? We aren’t going to steal a car, when we could take mine. But it would take too long. I don’t thi–”

“–calm down. I was kidding.” She stopped his mumbling by interrupting him and holding her hand up in the air while staring at the beautiful scenery in front of her. Thick, tall and dark trees were reflected in the dark water, while butterflies and dragonflies surrounded the green grass. Many leaves were covering the floor, as the weather got colder but Y/N didn’t mind. She likes the colours, as if they were painting the world in a brand new tone. It was a perfect place, many would probably say that it looked scary but what could scare Y/N if she was the one people should fear? That’s why she felt at ease whenever she looked out her window and that’s why she preferred to use it as a mirror, to teleport herself to different places, if they were too far away to reach by foot and not some boring, old mirror, how everybody else does. “Wouldn’t want you getting comfortable here.” She half heartedly joked. She definitely didn’t want him around her but she also couldn’t deny the fact that she was getting used to his company, even if it more often seemed to annoy her than bring her joy. “And I knew you couldn’t walk a mile in those” She eyed his shoes suspiciously. “carnival boots.”

Embarrassed, his mouth popped open and he glanced at his shoes as he was trying to hide them somehow. He didn’t think that his shoes looked bad, quite the opposite actually. He remembered when he saw them for the first time. It had been just a few years ago, when he walked by a fancy small Italian shoe company in the middle of Milan and they had immediately caught his eye. Long story short he fell in love and bought them without trying them on. For years he had worn them occasionally, whenever he wanted to spice up his outfit and he never felt bad about them. Well, until now. Now, he’s wondering if they looked like cheap boots mortals wore when they liked to play dress up.

While he was debating silently in his head if the expensive purchase was worth it, Y/N could read his expressions like an open book. It wasn’t hard when he hit the inside of his cheeks and rubbed at his slight stubble with two of his fingers. “I’m kidding. Again.” She added when she felt the guilt kicking her in her guts. Of course, she never meant it in a harmful way but rather as an attempt of teasing him, just how he always teased her. But she guessed he was more insecure. She didn’t know that and if she were honest, he made those ridiculous looking shoes look expensive, and somehow he could pull them off. “They look good on you.” Once his eyes dared to look back into hers, she gave him a small reassuring smile and walked a few steps towards him, until she could squeeze his biceps. “I was just trying to tease you, curly.”

“Curly?” He cocked his left eyebrow upwards. “Haven’t been called that since... college.”

She let her hand linger on his arm, without noticing. “Well, I gave you that nickname.” And he remembered the day when she had done so. It had been one of their usual study sessions, where they’d be lounging around in the library intending to get work done but most of the time they’d share their favorite tapes and Harry would try to convince her that he could do all the dances from footloose. Now thinking back, he definitely could not dance as good and he was happy that he’d never shown her. He would’ve embarrassed himself. But when they were concentrated on their work, she recognized how just one strand of hair would always fall on his forehead, dangle right between his eyes and annoy him by doing so. He always tried to slick that hair back but no matter how much product he used, that curl was stubborn. And that’s where she had gotten the nickname from. She always loved the wild strands of curly hair and she’d always complain if he used too much product, as she liked his natural way more, or at least that’s what she had said back then.

Immediately his heart picked up on speed, while she allowed herself to drift off to a distant memory for a short time till she got drawn back into reality by birds chirping around her. “We should get going.” She only said, when her stomach started spinning and she wondered if his curls still smelled the same. She wondered if they still smelled like cinnamon and apples and if they felt as soft as they looked in between her fingers. “We can use the water as a portal.” He silently agreed and watched her walk towards the water, when she finally reached the small pond, she mumbled a quick spell. “Aperi mihi quid cogito portal, quae praestat eam. Ibi me accipere.” Within seconds a reflection was seen in the water and he immediately recognized those streets like the ones that lead to the very famous witches market. A few witches were already walking down those old lanes that were made out of red clay many, many years ago. “Let’s go before it closes.” She informed him and stuck her arm into the water, immediately getting sucked into the other side of the mirror without getting wet. Almost as if she had never touched the wet surface. Harry quickly followed her and all he felt was a harsh wind brush through his hair and he stood next to her, in the middle of the street while the bright sun was shining at them while he dusted off his clothes and she combed through her hair with her fingers. No one even cared to see what had happened, as they were used to such a simple spell.

“Do you know where to get them?”

“No.” She shook her head and pressed her lips to a thin line. Anxiety was making itself presentable in her body when she nervously looked around. Somehow she felt out of place and scared that she wouldn’t find it, after all these years of not visiting this place and she was shocked to see that it still looked the same. Just the air felt too thick to breathe and she wasn’t as comfortable as she once used to be, when she imagined everybody staring and pointing their fingers at her, while, in reality, no one was paying her any attention. Harry didn’t seem to notice her anxious behavior when he curiously looked around the market, carefully eyeing every item, as he didn’t want to miss what they were here for.

Y/N truly tried to calm herself down, telling herself that she had been in this situation before. Numerous times, actually, and her earliest memories were from her early childhood, as her mother would always make her tag her along. Back then, she wasn’t so anxious, and would run around the place and touch everything that came to her sight but who would expect anything less from an energetic child?

But now everything was different. She was older now and knew what she should do and what she shouldn’t do and that’s what scared her. She didn’t want to do anything that she wasn’t supposed to and somehow it frightened her so much that she’d rather crawl into her little house and never come out again. A trait she wished she could let go of but it was easier said than done.

Her mother used to advise her to take some substances that mortals used as well to calm themselves down and she had tried them all before. And even if they helped her for a little while, it wasn’t long enough to satisfy her health.

That’s why she’s left alone in her headspace, creating all those scenarios that could –but wouldn’t– happen, without any help to calm herself down.

“Y/N, are you coming?” Harry asked when he saw her frozen on the same spot, while he had spent the past couple of minutes roaming around. Worriedly he frowned, staring at her shocked state. She looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Her eyes were shot wide open, mouth trembling and sweat starting to form on her hairline. Softly he touched her hand, only to realize that her whole body was stiff and that she was so cooped up in her world that she didn’t even notice him standing right in front of her. “Y/N?” He asked again but he didn’t receive an answer yet, just her absent eyes looking past him. “Y/N?” He spoke with Mir certainty and volume this time, somewhat catching her attention, as her eyes darted to him but she didn’t talk yet. Gently, he grabbed her arm, dragging her to one of the less crowded sidewalks. When the sun wasn’t shining directly at them anymore, her hands started to shake, resulting in Harry gripping her tighter than before, scared that she might faint.

For a while, no one said anything, as distraught Y/N tried to control her thoughts and a stressed Harry searched for a solution.

“I–” Y/N started and stopped herself but when she opened her mouth again, no words came out. She looked like a fish out of the water and somehow she felt like one as well. “–I ca–” She tried, she tried to finish her sentence but her dry mouth, her fast-thinking brain, and those trembling lips, made it almost impossible to do so and luckily Harry caught onto it and didn’t make her finish. Instead, he pulled her closer to his chest, holding her steady while her eyes were tearing up.

Gently Harry brushed through her hair, as he looked down at her. “It’s ok. Everything’s going to be just fine.” He shushed when he felt her hands gripping his clothes and her unsteady breathing rhythm messing with his own. “I got you. I’m right here.” After those words, a silence overcame them and the only thing Harry was focused on was her breathing and making sure that she didn’t start bawling her eyes out. Not that he wouldn’t hold her if she’d wet his clothes but he would be worried about what to do next if she decided to cry. Something was getting to her and he wanted to know what it was so he could make her situation better. He had never seen her like this and that somehow scared him. It scared him because he didn’t know what to do and he hated feeling clueless. While other people were passing them, shooting them annoyed or sometimes worried glances, he just ignored them all and gave her his whole attention, even if she wasn’t saying anything. But it calmed him down knowing that when he rubbed her back, she didn’t feel as tense anymore and that her grip loosened around his coat. “How are you feeling?” He asked once he was sure that her breathing was back to normal.

For a second too long Y/N buried her face in his chest, taking his scent in, and allowing it to calm her down before she felt ready to talk. “I– 'm alright.” A scoff left Harry’s lips and Y/N didn’t have to look up to know that he was shaking his head.  She had expected him to say something like “bullshit” or accuse her of lying but he didn’t. Instead, he still held her and he was still rubbing her back with his backhands.

“It’s ok if you don’t want to tell me but…” He stops himself before he lets too much slip.  Should he say what he was about to say? Or will it be too much for her? “I’m here and I’ll listen.” Whatever selfish part inside of him believed that at that moment it was just the two of them, and no one else around them mattered, he let himself believe that. He let himself believe that he wasn’t by her side for more selfish reasons, instead of facing the truth. All he wanted was to pretend that he could be someone she could trust. And when her arms swung around him tightly, it was so easy for him to pretend.

For a short time, a silence overcame them and all she did was try to get her breathing under control. “Sometimes I get… anxious.” She admitted, which she had never done before. To be fair, there was no one in her life that she could say those words too but saying those words to Harry and holding so tightly onto him, as if her life depended on it, was never something she saw coming. Yet, he made her feel safe when the world was so scary and it immediately brought her back to their college years, when he used to be the one, making her feel comfortable. Even if it just was throughout their freshman year. She felt his hands rubbing her back, coaxing the anxiety to be drained from her body and making her feel relaxed enough to continue. “It doesn’t happen often an– and only when it’s cro– crowded.” Her voice sounded so hoarse and the way it cracked at the end, made a pain shot through him. With soft eyes he looked down at her, brushing her hair to one side, to get a better angle at her face.

“Can I hold your hand?”

“What?”

“You can squeeze it if you’re feeling uncomfortable, so I can know. My hand, I mean. You can squeeze my hand if it’s alright with you unless it won’t help you then you do–”

”–ok.” She interrupted his stuttering with a faint ghost of a smile and took his big hand into her own. Immediately he intertwined their fingers together as if he had been holding her hand all these years when he only got briefly the chance to. And when her skin touched him, both swore that those forty years had never happened, as electricity shot through their bodies, pulling them closer together.

For the rest of the day, she let him hold her hand, as they were searching for everything they needed and even though Y/N started to feel overwhelmed at times, Harry’s presence calmed her down. Enough at least so she was able to function. It felt odd to her that she hated his guts for so long when he didn’t seem as bad right now, especially since he hadn’t been an asshole to her and even sounded worried about her mental state.

She never thought she’d say this but she had to admit that she was wrong for being so stubborn. She was wrong for hating his guts so much because he might not be all bad. Of course, it doesn’t change what he had done to her but now she felt ready to at least listen to what he has to say.

And Harry felt that something was lingering in her mind when her mind would wander off and leave her zooming out on him, once they were back at her place. Her mouth was kept shut and she forbade herself from opening up, even when the silence had become so unbearable. She just wanted to know what he’d happened between them and why she didn’t hate him, even though she tried so hard.

But most importantly, she wondered if just a tiny fragment of him felt the same, so she’d get some closure.

The uncomfortable space captured them both immediately and once he sat down on her ugly rug, and Y/N made herself comfortable on her couch,  he had to admit that her floor was oddly comfortable and he finally understood how Y/N was able to sit on it.

Maybe this terrible looking thing was not so useless after all.

“Do you regret it?” She asked, breaking the silence that seemed to suffocate her. Apart of her wanted to stay quiet but she couldn’t anymore, not after everything they had talked about today and what he had confessed earlier. Could his words be true?

Harry looked at her in anticipation, while folding his hands in his lap. “Regret what?” He asked, wanting to make sure what she was referring to even though he knew exactly what she meant but yet she didn’t answer. She chose to stay quiet and that made Harry urge an answer out of her. Was she thinking the same thing? “Regret what, Y/N?”

For a long time, she stayed quiet, because what was he supposed to regret? Ever meeting her? Befriending her? Or was he supposed to regret that she thought there was more going on without realizing it? “The night at the party.” She mumbled when she tried to pin the time when everything went sour and she concluded that it had to be after the party, after their one night that could’ve to lead to something but didn’t.

Immediately he knew what she meant by that and he shook his head harshly. “No.” He spoke firmly and with strength in his voice because he wasn’t lying. He didn’t regret anything that had to do with her and he knew it was impossible for him to feel that way. But how did she not see that? How did she not know that? “Why would you think that? You left the next morning without an explanation. I thought you regretted it.” Slowly anger was burning in the pits of his stomach when he thought back to that day. He hadn’t done anything wrong, as he remembered him falling asleep with his head in his neck, thinking that they can finally kick off a relationship that was always ready to be built. Even though Harry couldn’t see his face, he swore he slept with a smile grazing his pink lips because he knew he was going to wake up next to her. But that never happened. She had left without saying a word and acted as if nothing ever happened. So, shouldn’t he be asking her that question?

“No, I di–”

“–Why did you leave?” Those words left his mouth quicker than he could think about them but he was glad that he had said them. He wanted, no needed, his closure. Did she just play with his heart? She shrugged her shoulders but it wasn’t a good enough answer for him, not after he had waited forty years to finally get an explanation. “Tell me, why did you leave?”

His eyes burned holes into her head until she stopped chewing her bottom lip and finally got her to crack open and let him know what was going through her head. “I… I was scared, ok? I didn’t know what to think.” She mumbled, almost impossible to hear but luckily Harry understood her but it didn’t give him any clarification.

“Really? That’s it? You didn’t know what to think?” He scoffed. That was it? She didn’t know what to think? That’s why she’d been ignoring him for such a goddamn long time? “You could’ve just talked to me!” It wasn’t his intention to sound so rude but he couldn’t help himself and spit his words out as if he was trying to get the poison out of his mouth.

Now it wasn’t Y/N’s turn to feel irritated and even a little bit angry. “Don’t you think I tried?” Annoyed, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, waiting for an answer that never came. He shrugged. How was he supposed to know when he felt like that he was the only one constantly trying. “You were always with your friends and… and I heard what you said to them.” Her eyes were searching for an answer in his green ones but got only met with more questions. He looked confused, as he didn’t know what he could’ve said to them that hurt Y/N so badly. She sighed defeatedly, as he seemed to want an answer from her. “You said you could never be interested in me.” She felt uneasy, confessing what she had heard when she only wanted to use the toilet and his friends were all sitting on the couch downstairs, completely drunk, and practically shouting.

It was right after Harry had fallen asleep next to her, with his head buried in her neck, and his hair tickling her face. Sweat was still covering their bodies and the mess they had made, could even make a blind person see what they had done not too long ago. But she didn’t mind. The only thing that she could hear was her fast-beating heart in her ears and the blood rushing to her cheeks whenever she saw Harry’s hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and the small scratches she had left in his arms. There were probably some on his back as well but she couldn’t see them.

Gently, she pushed Harry’s body away from her, so she could escape his hold and go to the bathroom. While her mind was still replaying what had just happened, a faint shouting pulled her back to reality. All she could remember was one of his friends asking how Harry could stand to be with her in the same room while another replied with how he only used Y/N for an easy fuck and that’s what Harry had said to them as well. That made her feel so extremely dirty, hard, and sad. Was she just an easy one night stand to him? A part of her didn’t want to believe those words but she couldn’t help and let them get to her head. Somehow the butterflies she had felt previously were gone and tears were evident in her eyes. His friends would always give her dirty looks whenever they’d see Harry and her together and Y/N had seen how much prettier girls than her, gave Harry hungry eyes. He flirted with all of them, so she couldn’t be anyone special, right?

Regret washed over him. He did? “Y/N, I–” When he saw the pain evident on her face, he gulped. He apparently did and he didn’t even know.

”–I figured it would be best to just forget about what had happened between us and you seemed to hate me anyways. So, it wasn’t too hard.” She felt her heart skip a beat painfully when she remembered how she had felt in that moment and she wondered if being stabbed by a knife would’ve been easier to go through.

A pain shot through his heart. Hate her? Never. “I never hated you.” He explained calmly, trying to see her eyes b she dodged his gaze because she didn’t want him to see her watery ones. She didn’t want to cry but this conversation frustrated her and brought her back all those feelings she never wanted to feel again. Heartbreaks suck, especially if you’re a stubborn witch who can’t let go of the past.

“Yes, you did! And you basically bullied me through the next years.” Her voice had gotten louder and the tears became more threatening, as they dared to roll down her cheeks at any time now. But she wondered if it was just her anger getting too much and making her so undeniably emotional.

“It wasn’t bu–”

“–don’t deny it! It makes it so much worse, Harry!” Her shoulders sank up and down heavily, as she tried to control her quick breathing but the tension was getting thicker and she didn’t know how much longer she could take it. “Ever since I went out on that date, you made my life a living hell. Why did you do that?” He was silent, trying to understand her. Did she really think he was bullying her? That was never his intention and he didn’t know how to tell her. “See! You can’t explain it yourself.”

She faced herself away from him, ready to get up and leave her living room when Harry let out a small whisper. “I was jealous.” And it took him a lot of courage to own up to his mistakes and explain why he did what he did. He always wanted closure from her and she should get the same.

Her mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and curiously furrowed her eyebrows. Jealousy? Now that she didn’t see coming. “What? Why?” She hissed when she heard how fragile her voice sounded but she didn’t care for long when she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. This situation was loaded with tension, frustration, anger and even some relief because both of them had waited forty years to talk about what had happened that caused everything else to turn so sour.

He took long breaths before he confessed what had scratched his fragile ego to cause him to be an asshole to her. And when he thought about it he felt like an absolute idiot but he couldn’t back out now. “Because you were able to ignore me, after everything and go out with that douche?” He scrunched up his face in disgust. “It didn’t even take you long to replace me.”

“No one could replace you.” She confessed, looking directly into Harry’s eyes. Electricity ran through her veins and suddenly the room felt so tiny, making it so much harder for her to breathe. She thinks she’ll never catch a break. For a moment both took their times to process what had happened, while looking at each other closely. They hadn’t even realised how close they had gotten to each other and only knew she noticed tiny freckles in his cheeks and nose, a tiny scar in his chin and how long his eyelashes were.

And he finally registered her beautiful features and even the smaller details that made her skin so unique and all he wanted to do was to touch her cheeks and caress each and every spot. Only now he realised how his chest was so close to her legs and his hands slowly grabbed her knees, pushing her legs apart. He never stopped looking at her, to make sure she wanted him to touch her. For a short moment she let Harry’s hands wander and closed her eyes to just feel him, as the stare had gotten too intense for her liking. All she wanted to feel was Harry’s soft hands making her feel appreciated and somehow even managed to comfort her and make the tension disappear step by step.

Carefully his hands rubbed against her thighs, while he was watching her from between her legs. Her breath hitched when her gaze met with his hungry eyes and an undeniable flame erupted within her, asking for more fuel to grow bigger. She could feel his cold rings through her black jeans but it wasn’t uncomfortable as he rubbed his skin in hers thoroughly, warming her up. Y/N was able to see what Harry wanted to do and he made sure that she understood him.

His plump lips rubbed over the fabric she was wearing but even that small contact sent shivers down Y/N’s spine and how he was looking at her, as if she was the only one that mattered, made her feel more excited and nervous at the same time. She rubbed her sweaty palms against her rug, so Harry wouldn’t notice but he did and with a low, raspy voice he started asking. “Can I kiss you?” Slowly she nodded while biting her bottom lip. A one sided grin appeared in his face, when he kneeled between her legs and grabbed her face to pull her closer to him. He felt her hot breath on his nose when he caressed her heated cheek and wondered how her skin was able to be so soft. Deeply, he started into her eyes, counting the different specks of Color in them, when he thought back to all the restless nights he had dreamed of being that close to her again. And even if he was next to her because of the worst reasons, he had no choice but forget all about them, as she finally closed the gap between them and put her lips hard in his. Her hands immediately gripped the base of his neck, while he rested on her hips, drawing small circles on them. He felt her sigh against his mouth when he grabbed the flesh harder, giving him an opportunity to slide his tongue inside, which she gladly accepted.

His warm scent made her feel dizzy and the unsatisfied hunger kept her mouth going, keeping their lips dancing together rhythmically. She didn’t know for how long they kept going until she felt Harry’s hands trailing upwards, clearly playing with the hem of her shirt, almost as if he was waiting for her permission. With one last tug in his soft curls, she let go of him and mumbled a quiet “yes” against his lips to which he replied with a smile.

With a lot of anticipation she waited till Harry slid the shirt off of her, exposing her bra padded chest. She wasn’t wearing anything fancy, just a simple black bra but Harry made her feel so extremely beautiful when he stared at her with those hungry eyes, as if he was ready to swallow her whole.

The soft skin that looked like porcelain kept Harry in a trance and within seconds his mouth connected to her chest, kissing softly her neck and down to between her chest. God, she was stunning and Harry would’ve been drooling if he couldn’t control himself. She was prettier than any other girl he’s ever met and he was going to make sure that she knew. After all, how could anybody ever regret having her? It was impossible.

“May I?” Y/N asked when she gripped Harry’s shirt, pleading with her eyes to take off his clothes but much to her dislike he shook his head.

“It’s not about me tonight, darling.” With that he slid between her legs again, his head right in front of her middle. “Let me make you feel good. Let me make you scream my name. Please.” And the last word with the six letters, made her squirm. He was pleading, he was begging to pleasure her and Y/N couldn’t put it into words how wet he had gotten her with one, simple word. She couldn’t help but nod in anticipation. “Use words, baby. Tell me what you want.” His hands gave her thighs a tight squeeze, demanding a verbal answer. With every word Harry’s words got deeper and his eyes grew darker the longer it took for Y/N to answer him.

“Make me feel good, Harry.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I… I don–”

“–no lying, darling or I won’t give you anything.” “Now, let’s try again.” He leaned close to her ear. “Tell me. What–” He kissed her soft spot behind her ear. “–do–” His teeth picked at her delicate skin, making her hiss. “–you–” She knew he was leaving a mark, and she couldn’t care less when his tongue caressed the spot he had just bitten. “–want.” He finished his sentence with one last suck on that spot, still gripping her hips harshly and pulling away from her slightly so he could look into her excited eyes.

“I want you to take off my pants.”

He nodded. “As you wish.” Quickly his fingers grazed over the buttons, giving her one last look and when she gave him a hard nod, he grinned from ear to ear, while he undressed her. Once her bare legs were in his sight, his hands immediately found their place on them again and his mouth made sure to kiss every, newly exposed skin. For a second she stopped breathing when Harry came close to her aching core and she was sure that he could see a wet spot on her panties and all she wanted him to do, was to give her the attention where she wanted it the most.

“No.” She shook her head.

“What? You don’t want me kissing your thighs?” She shook her head. “Where then?” Her hands grabbed his head, pulling him towards her desired place. He grinned. “Do you want me to taste you?” She nodded, only resulting in Harry slapping her thigh. “No, no, no. What did I say? Use your words, love.”

“P– please. Finger me.”

“Everything you want princess.” His teeth grabbed the hem off her panties, slowly pulling them down while he still maintained eye contact with her. He could see the juices flowing out, making him want to completely ravish her, as she was so ready for him and he couldn’t grasp it. She was ready for him. He never thought that this day would come ever again. But before his mouth met her lips, his cold fingers started exploring her folds, rubbing slow circles on each spot, besides her pulsating clit, resulting in Y/N to whine. Harry knew what she wanted and, most importantly, where she wanted him but after forty years he was going to enjoy every second of it and not rush into anything, as they were able to take their sweet time, even if her patience runs very thin.

Excitement ran through the pit of her stomach, while she watched Harry caressing every inch of her body, just not exactly where she wanted him to and it frustrated her. Tired of his games, she dove her hand into his curls, pulling tightly onto the many strands of hair. “Stop teasing me.” She only choked out when his fingers ghosted over her clit and even though it was hardly any friction, it felt really good.

“I’m not teasing, just savouring you.” And with those mumbled words, his thumb rubbed small circles over her swollen clit, making sure to put enough pressure to make her squirm. A satisfied grin spread across his face when she bucked her hips harder against his hand and a small hiss left her mouth, followed by a small moan. Y/N bit her bottom lip, when he rubbed harder and faster against her, to keep herself from being too loud. But when a satisfied grasp escaped her silky lips, Harry’s grin widened and he immediately began to slowly run his fingers along her opening, teasing her by dipping his tips into her wetness. He had to fight his urge to give his all to her, as he just wanted to hear her scream his name over and over again. Not only would it stroke his ego but satisfy him, knowing he was able to make her feel good, like he once was able to. But he just didn’t want to give it to her, he wanted her to remember every second of it, just like how he would remember all the spots that drive her wild. His lips trailed up and down her inner thighs, slightly scratching her, till he hadn’t found time to shave his growing stubble and his hands were still massaging her, feeling how wet she had become. A chuckle escaped his throat when Y/N buckled her hips forward to feel more of his hands on her. He smiled against her soft skin and finally gave in, and pushed his finger inside her warm, soft and wet core.

“Harry.” She managed to moan when his finger started moving and instinctively she spread her legs wider apart, to allow him more access. Blissfully, he sunk another finger in, spreading her perfectly, while he found the perfect rhythm to make her feel good. Seeing her mouth agape, eyes shut and back slightly arching away from the couch, his trousers began to painfully tighten around him. “Right there.” Her toes were curling, while her fingers tugged harshly on his curls, making him groan, when he hit her sweetest spot, erupting a pleasant fire in her abdomen.

“You’re so tight, baby. Can’t believe I fit in there.” A breathy chuckle she felt on her heated skin, when he saw her eyes widening by his words. She was still so innocent and he loved it. “God, you’re so wet. My fingers are covered.” Y/N moaned, as a warning to not continue with his dirty talk, even though hearing his deep, raspy and bassy voice sent additional chills down her spine and turned her on even more. She was clenching around his fingers, motivating him to go deeper and faster, as she was so close to reaching her high. She couldn’t even remember when someone actually made her feel so ecstatic and whenever she did it on her own, it never felt so good. “Are you getting close, baby? Do you wanna come all over my fingers?” Harry asked, still pumping his fingers, with one hand,  in and out of her and with the other hand rubbing his thumb over her pulsating clit. He felt her getting tighter around him, making him imagine how it’d feel to be inside her warm, wet and soft pussy or he wondered how sweet she’d taste and what noises he could coax out of her. He wanted to know everything and he wanted to be the only one knowing every spot of hers that kept her whining and moaning around him.

When she only gave him a nod, as an answer, his fast movements came to an immediate halt.

She almost choked on her tongue, when she felt the sudden lack of action. “Wha–”

“–use your words.” He emphasised the small breaks between every word while staring at her with darker eyes and a dominating tone in his voice, making her swallow her pride. “Beg for me to let you come.”

“Harry.” She sighed, moving her hips in circles but he held her hips in place and for a split second she wanted to shake her head and tell him to fuck off but the way his lips were swollen from kissing her, his cheeks flushed red and his curly hair messily laying on his head, her knees started to feel wobbly. She practically felt how her body was already begging for a release, so she guessed she could actually start begging as well. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me come.” Harry grinned, as he felt satisfaction run through his veins and it didn’t take him long to pick up his speed again. His fingers moved in and out of her harder and faster than before and if he bucked her hips upwards he hit that one spot that made her see stars.

“Come all over my fingers, angel.” He moaned himself, when she started clenching his fingers again and tightly she grabbed onto the soft material of her couch, when her back was arching and her legs started shaking softly.

When she felt his stubble against her inner thighs again and his fingers curling inside of her, an intense pleasure washed over her and with a loud moan, she let her juices flow all over him. “Fuck. Harry!” She moaned, moving away from his hand, as he rode her down her orgasm. With shaky hands she gave his curls one last tug, telling him to let go of her and even though he wanted to continue, wanted to test her limits and how far he could push them, he let go of her with a smirk in his face. But before Y/N could see his smug smile, he put his fingers in his mouth, tasting what was left of her sweetness, savouring her flavour.

“The next time you’ll have to let me taste you.” He lulled, grabbed her face into his hands and pressed his forehead against hers. He felt her shaky breath in his upper lip, before her hand grasped his wrist, keeping him close to her. Her heart was undeniably beating fast and all she wanted to do was pull him closer to her.

She cleared her throat. “Can I–” Stopping herself, she went to touch his belt, wanting so badly to make him feel as good as he had made her feel but he pushed her hand away, while shaking his head.

“No, not today.” In his green eyes, she saw that he wasn’t eager anymore and that the hunger was gone, even after seeing his hardening length in his pants. She was sceptical and wondered why he didn’t want anything from her but before she could sink deeper into her spiral of negative thoughts, he kissed her forehead sincerely and stared at her with an adorning gaze, making her feel like the only person on this planet.

It didn’t take much more convincing for her and she only nodded her head tiredly. “Do you wanna stay?” She asked hopefully with drooping eyes and before they fell completely shut, she saw him nodding his head and wrapping her inside his strong arms and pulling her close to his warm chest, where she could smell his lulling scent. She was seconds away from falling asleep when one last question popped in her head. “Why did you erase my memory?”

Softly Harry breathed in her hair, holding her tightly. “I didn’t want you to remember me like that.” Even if Harry believed that he never bullied her, he wasn’t going to lie about how horribly he had treated her. He had tried so often to make it up to her but somehow he was never able to and when they graduated, he couldn’t let her go with such a bad opinion about him. He thought it would be better for her never knowing him, than actually hating him. 

“You’re not all bad.” Shemumbled before she fell asleep right inside his arms, something she has never experienced before and she could swear, she had never slept more peacefully. When her eyes fell shut, Harry sighed regrettingly but he shook his thoughts away. She is finally asleep and he needed to look for what he truly came here for. His heavy footsteps walked him through the house, searching carefully for the item he was so desperately looking for. It was the last key for him to finally get what he wanted for so long and he wasn’t going to give it all up, just because he just wanted to spoon her in the couch and fall asleep with his head buried in her hair and his arms pulling her close to his chest. And if he really thought about it, he felt stupid for wanting those things because he didn’t only want them but he missed them. And now that didn’t make sense to him. They were never so close to each other, so what did he miss if he didn’t even know what it’d feel like. He was stubborn, that for sure, because deep down he knew what he was missing while he was going through her drawers.

He was missing the opportunity to be with her, when once he swore that’s all he ever wanted and what she said made his heart beat faster and he wished he could agree with her but he knew what he had done and she didn’t and no matter how much he enjoyed being this close to her, it wasn’t all that was in his mind.

But, again, times had changed and he didn’t only long for her to be in his life.

When he peeked over his shoulders to watch a sleeping Y/N cuddled on the couch, with his coat draped over her shoulders, as he couldn’t find a blanket to put on her, he decided that she wouldn’t have the same fate, as his other victims faced, he stole from. He couldn’t lose her again, or at least he wouldn’t want to lose the chance of running into her, in another forty years, if she would run away from him again. But knowing that she was somewhere in this world, living her life, he’d find her. And if seeing a glimpse of her was all he’ll get, then it’ll still be more than knowing that her heart wasn’t beating anymore.

He can’t kill her.

He won’t kill her.

But he had to think fast, if he wanted to prevent her from dying by his own hands.

Harry was sitting next to the white cat on her familiar couch, touching his head softly. Harry felt how Jupiter melted into his touch and with exhausted eyes he looked at the dead mouse that Millie had brought him. It was odd for Harry to see how a cat and a bat had gotten so fond of each other but yet what was odd to a witch, right?

“Harry? Are you ready?” Y/N asked, as we walked inside the living room with every ingredient that they needed. With her pointy finger, she pushed her table away, creating more space, as she crouched to the floor, drawing a pentagram on the wooden floor with white chalk.

“In a second.” She looked up at him, furrowing her eyebrows and with urging eyes, telling him silently to keep going, and asking him silently what was wrong. “Before we start, this is for Jupiter.” He pulled something out of his black trousers and held a small bottle with a purple liquid inside, up in the air for her to see. “It’s the antidote.”

“Already? We haven’t gotten your powers back yet.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, while clearing his throat. It truly didn’t matter to him anymore, as he couldn’t take to see her familiar fighting for his life. He figured that the cat had suffered enough and even if Y/N didn’t find the right way to break the spell, she would one day. “I trust you.”

A million thoughts were running through her mind but none of them were bad ones and the more she thought about it, the more butterflies erupted inside her belly. “Thank you.” She shyly thanked him, avoiding his gaze as her cheeks turned red. It was no wonder that she trusted Harry, given what had happened yesterday but to hear Harry trusting, gave her all the clarification she needed.

“He’ll be sleeping for a while but when he wakes up, he should feel better.” He let her know before he helped the cat drink the antidote. He let out a small whimper and it didn’t take much longer till he fell asleep. Harry could only hope that it wouldn’t take him too long to get better. Those antidotes were unpredictable as there was no way to tell how long they’d take to work.

“Everything looks good. Now you just need to take off your shirt.” Harry looked over to Y/N, forbidding him to drift back to his thoughts. Y/N was done, drawing on the floor and she had placed a chair in the middle of it. Usually, this sight would activate his fight-or-flight-mode because she could do so many things to him if she wanted to. She could hold him imprisoned, make a demon possess him or so many other things that would take him too long if he tried to list them all. And maybe he’d be sceptical and wouldn’t want to trust her if they were still so hateful towards each other. But a lot has changed and if there was one person he trusted, then it was her, the sweet woman in front of him that still made his heart go crazy.

“I don’t think it’s the right time to flirt with me, darling.” He said, obviously joking and yet Y/N felt the urge to defend herself when he pulled his shirt over his head. For a second she lost her train of thoughts and the only thing she could think of was him. The way his chest looked so much more muscular than she remembered and how his shoulders have gotten broader over the years. He looked so much more like a man and it suited him well. She wondered what else he had expanded.

She swallowed her thoughts away while shaking her head, as if she was admonishing herself. “Don’t flatter yourself! It’s solely for the ritual.” Maybe not just for the ritual, she thought when she let her eyes wander and saw the multiple tattoos covering his upper body and the many new ones she wanted to trace with her fingers and memorize every line. He had gotten better looking over time and she couldn’t deny that the ink helped him to age like fine wine.

“Do you think this will really help?” He asked, oblivious to what was going on inside her head.

She shrugged her shoulders, trying her hardest not to let these thoughts get to her. “It should but you never know.”

He sighed. “There’s only one way to find out.” With those words he sat down on the chair and closed his eyes briefly, to prepare himself for what was about to happen. Nervously he fidgeted with the baggy material of his pants, as a manoeuvre to calm him down. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was nervous but he guessed it was new for him to trust someone, as he hadn’t done that in a long time. It almost sounded foreign to him, like a word he had never heard in an unknown language. Maybe that’s why he was so nervous, or he was nervous about the other things he still had to do and he didn’t want to mess everything up. If he did, he’d lose the one person he could trust and, as odd as it sounded to him, that scared him. He opened his eyes again, carefully observing what Y/N was doing, as she threw the bones into a black, metallic bowl and crushed them to a white pulver before she put the juicy-looking eyeballs inside. Carefully, she used every ingredient they needed till it was time to cast a fire. With delicate fingers she created a hot flame and within seconds, after hitting the bowl, it turned a deep, violent blue. “That worked.” She let him now, as she sighed in relief, visually relaxing just a tiny bit. Carefully, she took the bowl in her hands and walked over to Harry, placing it on his lap. “Don’t move, alright?” He only nodded, leaving all the talking to her. Y/N was holding a blood red stone, gripping it harshly inside her hand, as she began to walk in a circle outside of the pentagram. “Tamquam ex virtute quam ego ego quaeritur te.”Her voice strong and the usual trembling gone. Her eyes were closed and with a deathly grip on the stone she walked and walked. “Da mihi virtutem complere.” With a swift motion she grabbed the tiny container of blood, Harry had brought her, and placed herself directly in front of him. “Virium ei laetus.” Her finger dipped inside the red liquid and she drew a rune on his toned chest, concentrating to not mess it up. When she was done, she pressed her hand palm against his chest with a strong force, catching him off guard till a burning pain erupted inside him, making him curse underneath his breath and clutch his eyes shut tightly. “You’re almost done.” She whispered to him, hoping it would ease his pain. Impatiently she waited till the flame went out, showing her that it worked.

“Is it done?” He asked, slowly opening his eyes in anticipation, waiting for Y/N to say something positive.

“Yes.” Was all she said and he needed to hear that, to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close, as his excitement took over him. He was finally being himself again. He was finally a witch again and not like a lousy mortal with no powers.

“Thank you.” He laughed in her hair, as he was still holding her close, deeply inhaling her sweet aroma. “Producat in rosa.” He snapped with his fingers, feeling the electricity run through his fingers, as a steady warmth captured his whole body. Oh, how he missed this feeling. He missed the way he felt so powerful and strong.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked, creating some distance between them by pushing against his chest. “This is the first spell you use after regaining your magic? Really?”

Even though her tone was judging and she truly didn’t understand what was going through his head, she had to smile as his was contagious enough that she felt forced to do as well, feeling the happiness radiate off him so evidently. “This is for you, as a thank you.” He handed her a simple, red rose, that he was able to conjure, since his powers were back and handed it to her. He had to admit that it wasn’t his most charming move but he felt too happy to think straight and find more creative ways to woo her.

“You’re a dork.” She only said, taking the rose in her hand and placing it on the dining table, next to her, while she still stayed next to him, not wanting to move further away. Her heart was racing, undeniably fast and it felt as if a giant dose of joy had hit her brain, making her feel struck by his gentle gesture. She felt it was unfair of him to be able to make her annoyed and happy.

Her warm fingers still lingered on his chest, when they finally realised how close they were to each other. Her breath got stuck in her throat while she felt his hit her face. His green eyes were watching her closely, like a hungry wolf, and Y/N swore she felt electricity run through both of them. The house was quiet, even the world was quiet, as there was no match to their beating hearts. Nothing was louder.

She felt herself being hypnotised by his green eyes and the way his skins felt so soft on her skin. Her lips were trembling slightly, as she still remembered what had happened yesterday. Simply the memory of him between her legs, made her feel so incredibly excited and she felt herself getting wet. So, she bit onto her bottom lip to keep the quavering hidden from his sight. But he saw it and a devilish grin spread across his angelic features. Instantly he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him, flushing her chest against his, so she would have no choice but to sit on his lap.

Her mouth opened in shock but before she even realised that she was looking like a fish out of water, he pressed his pillowy and plump lips against her soft ones and wrapped her tighter in his arms. It took her a few seconds till she kissed him back and when she did a fire arose in the bit of her stomach. Hungrily she traced her tongue against his lip, asking for permission to get inside. But Harry didn’t, so she tried again. When he didn’t open his mouth again, Y/N tugged in the curls at the vape of his neck, knowing exactly that he’d groan and when he did, she didn’t waste no time, as she tried to taste every inch of his addictive flavour.

His left hand held her steadily by the hips but his right hand wandered up and down her back, creating goosebumps to cover her skin. A cold shiver ran down her back, when she felt his hands rubbing all the tension away. While his lips were still on hers, she sighted pleasantly. Both of them don’t even know how long they had been making out when he finally broke off the kiss to get some air into his lungs. Only then, both of them noticed, how bad they needed to catch a breath, as all they wanted was each other. Her lips traveled from his cheeks to his neck, where she started to leave wet kisses along his veins, feeling them pulsating on her lips and slowly nibbling at his satiny skin. He let out a small whimper when she bit on a spot that she knew would make him vocal, if her memory wasn’t playing any tricks with her.

“Y/N.” He moaned when she sucked on the fresh bite mark, making sure that she was leaving a hickey. Usually Harry wasn’t the biggest fan when people would mark him up but if Y/N did it, he wasn’t going to complain. How dare he complain if she gave him something so sweet? With one last kiss, she let go of his neck and let her hands slide against his chest and run her thumbs over his hard nipples. Patiently Harry waited for her to do more than to just admire him. It did boost his ego knowing she was looking at him with those wanting, hungry and passionate eyes but he wanted more. He had waited forty years, had lived with the unknown and with the knowledge that she didn’t even remember him, when all he wanted to do was barge into her home, to get here. His pants have gotten so tight and he was sure she felt him poking her at the right angle, as she was pressing herself onto him but she didn’t dare to move yet. That’s why he pushed her body further into his, as he began to move her around in his arms. Immediately pleasure shot through both of them at the new wave of sensation. With parted lips, heavy breathing and a need to feel more, she rubbed herself against him, clutched at his shoulders tightly and let him kiss her neck. “You’re so perfect.” He breathed on her, when she felt his tongue gliding over her, followed by his teeth. “I wanted you for so long.” Her heartbeat quickened even more when she heard him say those nice things, leading her to want to rip off their clothes right this second.

To her luck, Harry was thinking the same thing and let his hands wander underneath her shirt, before he pulled it over their head. For a split second she felt insecure about her bra choice, as a simple, white bra wasn’t the sexiest underwear she had ever worn and she wondered what he thought of that. Was he disappointed? Did he expect more? But judging by the way his eyes widened and his tongue drove over his lips, it was certain that he didn’t mind at all. Or maybe he did mind, because he just wanted her to be naked already. He wanted both of them to be naked already. But he didn’t mind what she was wearing. There was nothing that could make her look less desirable in his eyes as he hungrily took her beautiful body in. One of his hands slid to her belly, smoothly rubbing against her soft skin, and when he felt her tensing up, lines formed between his eyebrows and worriedly he looked at her. “Is everything alright?”

Y/N bit on her bottom lip, slowly nodding her head, as she was trying to get rid of the demons telling her, she wasn’t good enough, her underwear wasn’t seductive enough and that she just wasn’t enough. All she wanted was the man in front of her, who made her feel comfortable, and not those insecurities ruining the moment. “I’m sorry.” She murmured, shaking her head. She was ruining the moment, wasn’t she? “Just… just don’t touch me there.” She put his hand away from her belly and placed it back at her hip. A few deep breaths, she had to take,  before she had enough courage to look at him again and all she saw was the softest look, anyone has ever given her. He didn’t look judging, blaming or even mad and that made her feel a lot better already.

“I won’t, if you don’t want me to... but why?” He asked slowly, as if he was walking on eggshells because he was scared of her reaction and he didn’t want to push her.

She sighed. “I– I don’t like it.” Those were the only words that had left her mouth and by that phrase it could’ve meant anything but the way her eyes drifted over her body and her pointing at herself, made Harry gulp. How on earth was such a stunning woman insecure? If anybody should feel insecure, he was convinced it had to be him.

“Don’t.” He only warned her, when his hands cupped her face. “Don’t say that. You’re so fucking perfect.” He connected their mouths together by pressing a small but firm kiss on her lips. His thumb was caressing her cheeks and when she finally sighed and stopped being so tense, Harry was able to relax as well. “You’re beautiful, Y/N, absolutely, madly stunning.” The way his eyes stayed on hers and never even blinked, proved that he wasn’t lying, or at least Y/N started to believe his words, as he sounded so sincere. How could a person find the right words at the right time and wrong ones all the time? “Truly, you’re so b–” She didn’t even let him finish and just captured his lips in another hungry kiss. Her hands immediately got tangled in his curls again and this time she kissed him more eagerly and let her hands slide to his pants, as she was opening them up. She wanted him. She wanted all of him and she was willing to push those insecurities away because they didn't seem to be flaws in Harry’s eyes and that turned her on even more, that made her want him even more. That’s why she let him touch her skin, even the spots she didn’t like, and when he finally opened her bra, she took it off quickly, hoping he wasn’t going to change his mind. But he didn’t even give her any more time to be insecure about her body, as his mouth traveled down her neck, till he came face to face with her chest, that looked so kissable. His lips left kisses all around them and when he came close to her nipple, he only dared to ghost over them, as he wanted to see her reaction first.

When her breath hitched in her throat and she, encouragingly, pushed his head closer to her, he smirked on her skin before he sucked her, already hard, nipple in his mouth. With soft strokes of his tongue, he flicked over it continually, his hand giving her other breast the much wanted and needed attention by massaging it and pinching her nipple.

She hissed at the pain at first before it turned into please, leaving her craving for more. All she felt was his lips on her and that made the aching between her legs so much more evident. He left a few more kisses on her chest before he switched sides, as he wanted to taste both of them. When his tongue swirled around her nipple this time, she wasn’t able to keep her mouth shuts anymore and started to moan his name in a breathy voice. “Harry.” She looked at him, working so hard to make her feel good, and when he looked back, keeping a steady eye contact, she felt her heart picking up on speed. Instinctively, she pushed herself harder against him, making him groan onto her skin, as her warm fingers massaged circles on his scalp. “I need more.” Fast, she tugged at his curls, pulling him away from her, before she stood up. Her hands pushed him back into his chair when he tried to get up but she only shook her head. “No. Stay.” She crouched down, taking a hold of his pants and signaling him to buckle his hips up. When he did, she swiftly pulled them and his underwear down, causing his hard cock to spring against his abdomen. Y/N eyes widened by his size, as she wondered how she was able to take him in. But she didn’t let it face her, when her hand grabbed him and she begged with her eyes to continue.

He nodded. “Spit on it.” His voice sounded suddenly so deep and demanding, causing Y/N to immediately nod her head and do what she was said. Her hand started off slowly pumping up and down, as he grabbed the chair, enjoying her touch. With a longing look he watched exactly what she was doing, while he hoped he would remember everything later but he wasn’t worried that he wouldn’t. “Faster, baby.” Harry demanded and Y/N did. It had been a while since she had any interactions with a person like that but she was also certain no one would make her heart race and her pussy ache as much as Harry. Her hand picked up on speed and her other hand took the opportunity to squeeze his balls. “Fuck, Y/N.” He breathed out, as he didn’t expect her to do that. A fire simmered inside him and all he felt was her hands on him. His breathing picked up on speed, while her hands did the magic.

“Can I taste you?” She asked, looking at him with big, deer eyes. Seeing her like that, between his legs, crouched in the ground and willing to take him, made him want to bust right then and there. How was she able to be so innocent, yet so willing at the same time? It made his head spin. “Please.”

“I won’t last if you do.” And he wasn’t lying, he already felt as if he had to hold himself back. He wasn’t sure how she was able to get him this weak but it excited him knowing that she did.

“I don’t care.” She simply stated, as she picked up on more speed, jerking him off faster.

“Fuck, baby.” He moaned, closing his eyes at her unexpected action. His hand grabbed her hand, guiding it to go slower. “We got the whole night. No need to rush.” With that he let go of her hand and cupped her cheeks again, as he bent down to kiss her again. Desperately, he pulled at her lips with his teeth. “Take your panties off, angel.” He mumbled against her mouth, before placing one last kiss on her mouth.

Slowly she stood up again, swinging her hips while doing so before she pulled her panties down, making sure Harry was seeing her every movement carefully and tossing the item carelessly to the ground. He pulled her in closer again, as they’d lips reconnected again and his hands started to wander till they found what they wanted. With slow motions he rubbed circles on her clit, making sure she got even wetter than she already was. His lips went to her neck, leaving more marks behind.

“Harry, I want you now.”

“Then take me.” She didn’t have to be told twice before she sat on his lap, quickly rubbing herself against him, before guiding him inside. She had to hiss at how much he stretched her out carefully she took little bits of him at a time. His hand was rubbing her cheek, encouragingly while looking at her face. “You’re so amazing, taking me in.” Pleasure was evident for both of them as Harry wondered how she fit so perfectly around, squeezing him the right way while she couldn’t get enough at how he made her feel so full. It had taken her a few seconds before she was able to get used to his size, even though she was convinced that she’d never get used to him.

Slowly, she moved her hips, working on both of their pleasure. Moans were bouncing off of the walls, as her pace picked up on speed. An immense pleasure was shooting through her core, when all she felt was him, deeply buried inside of her. His head fell back, while she pressed her face into his exposed neck, slightly nibbling on his heated skin to suppress her moans. Her hips were keeping a steady pace, as the pleasure washed over them. “Faster. Please.” He begged in such a needy voice that made Y/N go crazy. No matter how much she liked to be taken care of, she enjoyed it, even more, to be the one in control, especially when it came to Harry who always had the upper hand. That’s why she had to drag it out as long as she could.

“What was that?” She asked teasingly, tracing the veins on his neck with her tickly finger. “I didn’t understand you.” Her voice was teasing him, showing off that she was in control, as her hips rocked back and forth in a torturing slow pace. “I’m afraid you have to say it again but louder.” The glare he gave her would have almost been lethal but she didn’t care. Instead, she stopped her movements all together, looking at him expectedly. “You have to say it or I won’t do anything.”

Her grin was bright and big, causing Harry to chuckle deeply. “It’s cute how you think you’re in charge.” Before she had a chance to register his words, he had stood up, still holding her close to him, when she wrapped her legs around him. Surprised she let out a small shriek, as her eyes widened and hands clutched on his shoulders harshly. He carried her, as if she didn’t weigh anything and easily looked into her eyes amused. He looked around, deciding where he wanted her and for a second he wanted to settle for the couch when he saw her rug and an idea popped into his head. His face came so close to hers, his breath hovering over her lips. “Let’s ruin that ugly rug.” He only said, and placed her gently on the ground, having to slide out of her, much to her dislike.

She felt empty immediately and whined. “Harry, get ba–” But he had cut her off when he pushed himself fully into her. “Fuck.” Her hands gripped his arms, which were outstretched on each side of her head and he began to thrust into her, harsher and faster than she had rode him. With each thrust the floor made a small noise but neither of them cared as they were being much louder.

“You like that?” He asked, when she closed her eyes shut by the overwhelming pleasure. She couldn’t answer and was just nodding her head, which caused Harry to smile and plant a small kiss on her forehead. “Good.” His thrusts were in a perfect rhythm and he was hitting all the nice places and she hugged his cock just the right way, as if they had been made for each other.

His thrust became stronger and faster with every thrust, making her moan his name till it echoed inside her house. “Harry.” She pushed her back forward, letting her chest collide with his. “That’s perfect.” She said, as he was hitting a brand new spot inside of her and automatically her hips started to move and meet his thrusts halfway.

“You feel amazing, baby.” He was going in and out of her so quickly, while he felt her hard nipples rubbing against him. Quickly, he sneezed his hand between her legs, as he felt him getting closer and he wanted both of them to finish tonight. In harsh circles he rubbed clit, but he never let go of his fast pace, as he was free trying closer and by the way she clenched around him, he guessed she was about to finish as well.

“Don’t stop, Harry. Don’t stop.” She cried out loud, as he was hitting the right spots inside her, making her see stars, whenever their skin met and made a loud sound. “Please, don’t stop. Please.” Seeing her beg, made his thrust get more forceful, his hand rubbing faster and giving him the strength to finish. After a few more thrust both of them felt the fire burning hot inside them, aching to be released.

“I’m about to come.”

“Come on my belly.”

“What?” He wanted to make sure he had heard her right, as he was seconds away, just like the way she was.

“Just do it, Harry!” She practically screamed when she felt her orgasm overcoming her and a wave after a wave of pleasure hitting her repeatedly, as her legs were trembling and her hands gripped onto his muscles. Seeing her cuming in his cock, gave Harry the last push and quickly he pulled himself out of her, just in time, to shoot his semen on her abdomen while he said her name. White, thick streaks were decorating her beautiful skin, like a canvas that has been painted, as both of them tried to catch their breaths. Harry let himself fall next to her, the moonlight shining on their sweaty bodies and the world quiet around them.

“God, you’re perfect.” He moaned one last time before closing his eyes. She was tracing his arm, that he had put around her, with her hand, drawing the outlines of his tattoos. It didn’t take him much longer till he fell asleep and she laid there awake.

She was tired but not tired enough to sleep yet, as she was busy admiring his sleepy state. She adorned the way his long eyelashes were resting on his cheeks and his curls fell on his forehead so perfectly. Y/N didn’t even know for how long she had been laying on the ground but once her bladder started to act up, she had gotten up by removing his arm carefully, to not wake him. The cold air was hitting her skin, when she went to the bathroom to clean herself up. It didn’t take her too long till she was back in her kitchen, dressed in new clothes while got herself something to drink, after putting a blanket over Harry’s body. As she was about to take a sip of her drink, Millie flew inside through the open window

“Hey, Millie.” Y/N greeted her. “Do you want some grasshoppers?” With soundless steps she opened ome of her cabinets, revealing a jar filled with insects. Usually, she used to for spells and always had some laying around. She opened the jar and held it towards the bat but she didn’t dive in, as she usually would, confusing Y/N. “What is it, Millie?” She asked, walking closer to her, while she was carelessly flying around. She fled around in small circles,, as if she wanted to tell Y/N something. “Do you want me to–” she didn’t finish her question as the bat clapped her wings approvingly. “–alright.” She cleared her throat. “Me intellegere et vespertilio.” This one always used to be one of her most favourite spells, as it allowed her to understand animals. Any animal she wanted even and it had opened her eyes and changed her worldview drastically, besides talking to animals was better sometimes than talking to people.

The high pitched voice rang out in her ear but she didn’t say anything Y/N had expected. “Harry, will kill you. He has killed so many more. He is a liar.” Her blood ran cold, as she stared at Millie denyingly. He wouldn’t kill her. Why would he kill her? She had helped him and they had even gotten closer to each other. It wouldn’t make sense, even if they hadn’t put their differences aside, was he that petty enough to end her life? She just couldn’t imagine him doing that.

“What?” Y/N asked but Millie didn’t answer anymore and took the cue to leave, while Y/N stood there not knowing what to think anymore. What was Millie saying?

A trembling headache started to form, her hands started shaking and even if she didn’t want to believe his familiar, her eyes started to tear up and she felt incredibly dirty. Had he used her? Would he really kill her? Her knees felt weak and somehow her throat was burning, as if she hadn’t drunk anything in a while. She was clueless on what to do. Should she just ask him? Would he even say the truth? Call her crazy? Kill her, right then and there? Should she make sure that he wasn’t going to hurt her first?  

With shaky hands, she opened her cupboards, as an idea popped in her head to coax the truth out of him.

All she needed to do was to make some tea, just the way her mother used to make, whenever she suspected that someone wasn’t telling the truth. It didn’t take much, as she only needed some chamomile flowers and some hair from a white horse.

She didn’t want to do this, she didn’t want to break his trust but she had to know if everything was a lie and Y/N was sure, she wasn’t ready for his answer, as it was obvious what it would be. Familiars didn’t lie, so there was only one outcome.

Quickly she prepared the tea, while she tried to calm herself down and not look too shaken up. Harry would see through her mask, and she couldn’t risk it. She took a few breaths in and slowly breathed the air out before she walked into the living room, seeing Harry putting on his clothes in a sleepy state. “How long have you been awak?” He asked, rubbing his eyes with his fists, while a tender smile grazed his lips. He looked so innocent, so peaceful and she couldn’t imagine him doing anything harmful to her. Was she doing the right thing? She wasn’t sure but she had to find out if Millie was saying the truth. There was no way Millie was lying, as it wouldn’t help her in any way and because familiars couldn’t lie. They were always loyal, faithful and honest. It wasn't in tgeir nature to make up lies for no reason.

“I made you some tea.” Y/N said, trying not to sound too monotone, as she tries to bite back her doubts and worries.

“Thank you, baby.” He took the hot beverage in his hands, blew some air on it before carefully taking a sip. At first it tasted like camomile but the aftertaste confused him. It tasted familiar but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. “I can’t make out what tea it is. Wha–”

“–where did you get the blood from?”

For a second he looked at her with furrowed eyes and started at her confusedly with a startled look. Why was she asking him again? “I told you” he started, trying to remember exactly what he had said yesterday to her, so she wouldn’t be suspicious and he wouldn’t be caught in a web of lies. But his planned words never came out. “I killed her and the blood was on my clothes.” He immediately dropped the cup of tea and cupped his mouth shut. What was he saying? He tried his hardest not to tell her but it was impossible for him not to say the truth, as if an invisible power coaxes the truth out of him. And that’s when it hit him. Magic. “What did you put in my tea?”

Y/N didn’t feel like answering his questions, as she questioned everything that had happened. “How many people have you killed?”

“Four.”

“Did you want to kill me.”

“Yes.” She felt her heart break, and she swore she felt it split in half. He had used her all along and suddenly the puzzle pieces fell into place. That’s why he knew where she was living, even though he didn’t have any powers; he had looked her up to master his plans. He had everything ready and she walked right into his trap.

“Why?” She dared to ask with a shallow voice.

“For a ritual to get my family back.”

“What do you mean?”

“My mother and sister died and I want to resurrect them.” He finally confessed, as he leaned back tiredly. Now, all his secrets were out, just when he thought he hadn’t had to harm her.

“How did they die?”

“Fire.” He breathed slowly, picking up the tiny pieces of broken glass, to play with them carefully. “From everything that could’ve killed them, it had to be a fucking houseburn. It had to be a fucking mortal death! They could’ve done something about it but it was all too fast.” His voice rose in anger and all he saw was how his family burned in front of his eyes, while he couldn’t save them. He wasn’t there when it happened but he felt responsible because he should’ve been there. He should’ve saved them but he failed to. He had failed them.

“Harr–” Y/N tried to talk to him but he pushed her away with an invisible force, causing her back to collide with her bookshelf, knocking multiple books down. A painful yelp escaped her lips, as she tried to get up.

“They died so pathetically because someone thought it was right to still burn witches.” His eyes were cold and the warm tone in his voice was long gone. “Mortals should be happy that I don’t make every single one of them burn.” His heavy footsteps got closer to hear, causing her to crawl away scaredly.

“You didn’t have to kill them.” She tried to say, as she slowly got up, staring at the man in front of her, who had changed so drastically. What was happening? Even the Harry she swore to hate, wouldn’t have done this. He wouldn’t have been this cold and no matter how sorry she was for his loss, she couldn’t and wouldn’t tolerate his behaviour. Everybody loses someone at some point in their lives, but it doesn’t give them any right to hurt others for selfish reasons because magic shouldn’t be used to bring more pain than it already does.

He chuckled deeply, shaking his head as if she had said something funny. “They’re worse than me. They’ve killed more people, than we know, over the past centuries.” Slowly he got closer to her, while she continued to back up till her back hit the wall. “They deserved it. My family didn’t.” And right before he was able to touch her, she ducked away from his grasp.

“Obrigescunt anathema.” She shouted, watching him not be able to move his body anymore. With tears in her eyes, a shaky voice and an hurt expression, she just blatantly stared at the stranger that she didn’t seem to know at all.

“Harry, stop it!” She was already on the floor, clutching her hand on the door frame as the tall man however over her. The taste of iron lingered in her mouth and only then she had realised that her lip was cut and tiny droplets of blood were coming out of it. But that wasn’t really one of her concerns as she felt him clutching her throat with his powers. The coward couldn’t even do it himself. He couldn’t even choke her on his own.

Her eyes were red and her face turned to a sick looking color. Just the sight of him, broke his heart and he wanted to hate her because she made him do those things to her but deep down he knew it was all his doing and he should hate anyone, then it must be him. “I never wanted to kill you. Fuck! You were the only person I tolerated and you had to be so stubborn, when I could’ve given you what you always wanted; a normal life.” His right hand was still controlling his magic while his left one went through his wild curls in frustration. Why did it have to end like this? Why her? Harry felt so stupid because when he made his plan, he thought he’d hate her. He thought he was over their short lived romance but all it took was one look at her and he turned to the stupid boy he once used to be.

“Harry, please.” She choked out, clutching her throat, as if she could peel his magic off of her, as if it were a hand. Her eyes were begging and if she had the power herself, she’d be begging more.

“Why did you have to fight me? I fucking loved you! You hear that? I love you! I don’t want to do this but you gave me no choice.” Harry rambled and when his brain processed what he had just confessed, his eyes shot wide open. He loved her. He loved her as if they were forty years younger and as if the misunderstanding never happened. Would his younger self do all this to her? Immediately, he knew the answer to that; no. So, why was he doing this now?

“I lo–”

“–no! Shut up! You don’t get to say that!” For a brief moment, he softened and he lowered the pressure on her when he understood what she tried to say. She couldn’t say those words because he knew he’d break down. “My family loved me and looked where it had gotten them. They’re dead.” Why did everyone he loved had to suffer? His mother and sister died horribly, while Y/N was about to die because of him. A humourless laugh he let out when he thought how this was an actual curse. How life was the actual curse.

“I love you.” She managed to say when he was buried in his head, and her words pulled him out of there way too fast. His heart was breaking when he heard her confess something that she shouldn’t be feeling in the first place. He was a monster and yet she still said those words. Either she tried to butter him up or she was actually crazy but either way he didn’t deserve her.

“Shut up!” His hold got stronger in her neck, as his voice sounded even more threatening than before but it didn’t last for long. “It’s already fucking hard to do this. Don’t make it harder on me.” His voice was breaking towards the end and tears escaped his lifeless eyes. For a moment they just stared at each other and Y/N was preparing herself, when her vision started to darken.

“What would your family think?” She asked with a whispery voice, and for a moment she was afraid that he hadn’t heard her but when he almost let go of her, she knew he did.  “Would your mother be happy? Or your sister?” She gasped for air, finally feeling it inside her lungs, easing the burning sensation inside them but it wasn’t enough to make her feel better and use her powers on him.

“You don’t know them.”

“But you do. So, would she?” Would his mother be proud of him if she could see him right now? Would his sister be proud if he knew what he had done to get them

Back? Would they? His hands started shaking, when he pictured their disappointed faces in front of him and when he could swear he could hear his mother’s voice, saying how much she disapproved of him, he finally broke down crying. Loud sobs escaped his mouth and Harry wasn’t sure if that was the first time he let himself feel all those emotions but he thinks that was the first time he had cried over the loss of his only family and he cried for knowing what he had done in the past few months. Who had he become?

“It’s so fucking unfair! Why did I have to lose them?” He sobbed in his hands, when his body came in contact with the cold floor.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you but it doesn’t change what you’ve done.” Even though her hand was aching to touch him, she didn’t. Instead she hoped her emphasisng her look was good enough to comfort him, even if he didn’t deserve it.“You need to leave, Harry.” He wanted to protest, grab her weak body and beg to her to not let her go. But when he saw those dark red wounds around her neck and the busted lip, he wondered how many more bruises she had gotten because of him. He closed his mouth and pressed his lips to a thin like while his tears had started to fall harder again. Why did he do this to her? Why was he so desperate to get his family back if they would hate him in the end? All he wanted was to have people in his life that loved him and the one person that did, he tried to kill her. “Maybe one day we‘ll meet again. When you’re better.” She said in a promising voice and her soft eyes bore into his, while she tried to remember the exact shade of green they were and hoping it wouldn’t be the last time, she’d get to see them. Instantly, Harry nodded his head, because that was his only goal; to get better. And, of course, to get the chance to be in her life again. “Oh, and if I hear you killing again, I‘ll kill you myself. Understood?” She was bluffing because she could never kill him but still, she tried to look as tough as possible, to look the most convincing she’s ever looked in her whole life.

Silently he stared at her with tired looking eyes and with fresh tears still streaming down his face. He knew she was doing the right thing and he didn’t deserve her but it didn’t stop his heart from aching. He wanted to hug her tightly, kiss her one last time but he couldn’t and that hurt him more than the bruises on his body did. That’s why he was determined to become the person she deserves to be with.

“Jupiter, don’t eat the tomato leaves!” Y/N shouted when she saw her cat nibbling on the white flower and the tiny leaves. With wild gestures she shushed her cat away and kneeled down on the ground to make sure that the plant was alright. It didn’t have any tomatoes yet but she knew in the late summer she could get a taste of them and she was looking forward to making fresh soup or pasta sauce, as they tasted better than the processed ones. She never understood why people loved to eat food out of cans, if they had time to use fresh ingredients and cook dishes themselves. It tasted better if it was made from scratch and, at least, she knew what she was actually eating.

Her fingers grazed one last time over the leave and she shot Jupiter a warning look, so he wouldn’t think about doing it again, when she headed back to her little pond. Her garden was finally looking good, after she finally replaced her dead plants, as spring was already in its early stages.

The sunbeams were beaming down on her, whenever they found a spot to shine through between the trees and the small noises from the animals around her, reminded her how much she had missed for everything to be this alive. Y/N loved spring because everything began to bloom, rise and overall the world just looked happier.

And she looked happier as well, now that the sun was out more often and she finally was trying to get over what had happened in late autumn last year.

Goosebumps still covered her skin and her heart stopped beating for a second when she let her mind be worried about Harry.

She wasn’t thinking of him as often now but he still occasionally haunted her thoughts, making it so hard for her to not just cave in. Y/N knew how easy it was to see what he was doing, thanks to her powers, and she knew that she shouldn’t do it. It didn’t help her get over him and she was violating his privacy.

But yet she still liked to see what he was doing.

In the beginning he looked miserable, as he had hardly gotten any sleep and didn’t think of taking care of himself properly. Those days had really made her heart break, because all she had to do was to use her pond as a mirror and she’d be with him. It was so easy for her to touch him again, to reassure him and be there for him, as he healed but she didn’t cave. Instead she watched him every once in a while and when she finally saw him improving his state, she couldn’t help herself but to feel proud. With each passing day he took a small step forward to a better life and it did not only bring her joy but also hope. She became hopeful and counted the days till he’d show up at her doorsteps to be with her, to finally face them the chance they should’ve taken when they had first met.

“Aperi oculos Ostende mihi futurum.” A small smile graced her lips when she saw his reflection in her pond again. But this time she didn’t see what he was doing right at that moment. No, she wanted to know more than how he was doing. She wanted to know how he’ll be and she had to know what the future had in store for him, for them.

An overly excited Harry was smiling from one ear to the other, exposing his dimples and bunny teeth when he was saying something that she couldn’t hear properly due to his mumbling. His hair looked longer and somehow even curlier and a beard was evident on his face. He looked older but not in a bad way at all and to see him like that made her happy. For a minute longer she watched him run up the stairs of a familiar looking house and she was about to let the reflexion float away when she saw someone.

And that someone was her.

Y/N swung her arms around Harry’s neck, pulling him into a small kiss before letting go of him, which caused Harry to pout. But she didn’t seem to be faced by his reaction as she strutted away, sitting on a small chair that was placed in the corner of the bedroom. Everything looked so awfully familiar but yet so different. But not in a bad way, as htheer house looked more like home. 

For a moment Y/N wondered whose bedroom that might be but when she saw a picture of Harry and her, framed on the nightstand, her breath hitched. Would they live together in the future?

“Harry, you smell like mud.” She Heard- her future self complain, as she scrunched up her nose and pinched her nose bridge. He had obviously working on the garden, as Y/N couldn’t do that anymore. She couldn’t even go down the stairs without being breathless and she was so glad that he helped her out so much but it didn’t give her a reason to not poke fun at him. “Go, take a shower!”

“I don’t smell like mud.” He only puffed offendedly and crossed his arms in front of his chest but Y/N could tell that he wasn’t truly upset. “It’s just the baby.” His long finger pointed to her belly.

Shocked, Y/N splashed the water away, causing the reflexion to disappear. Will she be pregnant one day? Her hand grasped her belly, that still only contained her breakfast and her organs. Could it truly be real? Her eyes wandered to her stomach, as she imagined it growing and somehow that was hard for her to do so. Not because she didn’t want any children but because her and Harry were still miles apart from being a couple, let alone being parents.

But no matter how surprised she was and how hard her heart was hammering in her ribcage and how sweaty her palms had become, she tried to hide a growing smile.

So, Harry will fight for their shared future and she’d let him back into her life. Of course she was worried about him but she knew he’d get better one day and no matter how long it’ll take him, she’ll be here, waiting for him. Everything will be alright, and that’s all she could’ve ever hoped for.

With weak knees she stood up from the ground, still clutching her stomach when a voice, that she had missed so dearly, was ringing in her ear. “Hello, comrade.”

[peppermintquartz]

minific, Playroom!verse

Seth and Roman and Dean/Jon

*

Once they get the news, they fly out to New York together. First class, because Tyler insists that it will look bad if Roman takes coach, given Tyler flies either private or first class.

Seth doesn't mind. Now that he's a liaison for Tucker and Otis Pte Ltd and Batista International (as well as for a number of other firms - turns out Seth is very good at listening to other people's needs and wants and figuring out how to best satisfy all parties) he travels around every couple months, and he flies business most of the time.

It's a late night flight so Seth and Roman end up cuddling, Seth pressed up close to Roman and it's weird falling asleep in the plane with its too-dry air and occasional turbulence.

(Seth wakes to Roman's stiffy under his hand and starts groping, still drowsy, and gets a pinch in his thigh to make him behave. He and Roman are Not Like That, though Roman has been in the room when Finn plays with Seth and Tyler.)

Dean already gave them the address and the two take a cab, tipping him an extra fifty when the cabbie not only demonstrates a lack of self-preservation but also an incredible ability to ignore the rules of traffic and physics.

"It's Jon now," Dean tells them and grins, his buzzed hair and rough cheeks making him look like a brand new man. "Jon Moxley. Dean Ambrose had too much baggage."

Baggage like former cellmates looking for some muscle as backup, perhaps, or old unsettled debts. Dean - Jon - had a rash temper and not everyone forgives as easily as Seth.

(Finn does not like Dean. Jon. He has not forgotten the insult at their first meeting. But when Seth asked him for help for Dean and Renee, Finn pointed them to one of his forger friends in New York, a dapper master forger going by Nick Halden.

"I'm doing it because you asked," Finn said when Seth thanked him, "and if he screws up this identity, he's on his own.")

"You're our bro no matter what name you go by," Roman says and hugs him. "Man! You got big. What's Renee feeding you?"

"Takeout in New York is a wild adventure, man. We got every cuisine under the sun. Ever tried Kazakhstani?" Jon leads them into the apartment. It's not too bad, about one and half times as large as Roman's cramped two-room back when, and there is a corner stacked high with boxes of supplies.

"Her mom and dad came by last week with gifts," Jon says, his voice low Then he motions for the two guys to stay put, and goes into the master bedroom.

After a moment, he emerges, a precious bundle in his arms, and both Roman and Seth have to cover their mouths so they won't make some unmanly squeal that would wake the baby.

"Meet Chenille Dawn Moxley," Jon whispers. The gaze he casts at his baby girl is fierce with love. The baby squirms slightly and yawns. Jon strokes her tiny nose, a move filled with so much tenderness that Seth finds almost unbelievable, and fairly radiates bliss and joy when she reaches for his thick finger.

"She's perfect," Roman murmurs. He brushes two fingers over Chenille's arm. "You've got the most amazing parents, baby girl, and two uncles that will do anything for you."

Seth can't speak. He's still absorbing how soft this moment is, with his spiky and reckless best friend now a father, a protective and doting father to a baby not three weeks old, and Roman is right, there is nothing in his power Seth won't give to baby Chenille, the way there's nothing he won't give to Seffy if she asked.

Jon holds out the baby to Seth. "You wanna carry her?"

"But she's so... so fragile," Seth says, helpless and yearning, so Roman takes her instead. Chenille wrinkles her nose and Seth makes a very soft squee in the back of his throat.

Jon doesn't even needle him about it. "I keep thinking that she's gonna stop being cute, and then she just does something that makes her cuter. Before she was born I swore I won't be that father, you know the overly possessive one, but now I'm already ready to interrogate every boy and girl who wants to ask her out on a date."

"She's not even a month old," Seth says teasingly. Then he freezes when Roman puts the baby in his arms. Chenille is so soft and warm and vulnerable, oh god, what if he drops her, what if he hurts her the way he's carrying her, oh my god she's awake, she is squirming and trying to get away-

Jon rescues his daughter from Seth and shakes his head. "Ok, no babysitting duties for you until you learn how to carry a baby."

"Yeah, that's good." Seth breathes again. "I wish-"

He wishes he'd got to carry Seffy when she was a baby too, that he'd been there to see Roman as a new father, proud and worried and delighted and full of love for a little living creature that he had helped make.

Baby Chenille opens her eyes, blinks, and starts howling bloody murder. For a tiny baby she has incredible lung capacity.

Jon grimaces. "Okay, back to mama. She calms down faster when Renee has her."

As Jon goes back inside with his squalling burden, Seth pokes Roman in the ribs. "Was Seffy like that too?"

"Worse," says Roman, with a silly grin of reminiscence on his handsome face. "She'd cry till she was blue. Nothing soothed her; she had to cry herself out. We were terrified that she'd cry herself sick. That's why her nickname is Scary, coz she scared the bejesus outta both her mom and dad."

Seth hugged him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Roman kisses the top of his friend's brow. "Me too. But you're here now."

"Dean is gonna be putty in that girl's hands."

"Yes he is."

[girlmeetsliv3]

Lilies of the Valley V

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

      "White is usually associated with purity and heaven. Fresh and crisp, white lilies also represent purity and modesty"

Release Date: 06/01/20 @ 8:40 pm

previous ~ next

           YN felt she was floating, her mind was floating, in and out of consciousness as she fought to gain control over herself but couldn't. She parted her lips to speak, only wails and moans came out instead of words. YN tried again - harder this time - but the same thing happened. She called out for someone, anyone, to hear her but her voice was beginning to fail her. Her body was shaking. No, not her body. Her bones were shaking. YN felt cold, incredibly cold, she tried to cover herself with the comforter but that only made her more uncomfortable. She thrashed and turned trying to get the blanket off, but it wouldn't budge. That only made her cry more. Eventually, she was so exhausted, she fell asleep.

           “Shh. It’s okay. We’re here.”

"Help me lift her, so we can change the sheets."

           “She needs a bath too.”

           No! No bath. Don’t move me. YN tried to talk to them, whoever they were, but they wouldn't listen. Her ramblings were incoherent at best, but in her mind, they made perfect sense. YN cried and complained, she was in pain, everything hurt and they were only making it worse. "Shh. Don't worry it'll be over soon." Something brushed against her cheek and for the briefest of moments, she felt calm but then the pain and discomfort only worsened. The fever was wrecking through her body and there was little anyone could do to stop it. "Hurry up!" It was too loud, it hurt her ears. When she felt the cool of the bathwater, she lost consciousness again.

           There was a crash, a loud one, and a cacophony of yells. Someone was getting closer to her, she could feel it but as much as she wanted to open her eyes they wouldn’t. Her nose was beginning to itch, their scent was too strong. It hurt. YN moaned again and tried to move away, but whoever it was had her locked in their grip. That only made things worse. Cramps began to pass all over her body causing the omega to spasm uncontrollably. They didn’t notice, too busy trying to pry the alpha off her to notice the pain she was in. Only once they had him under control did they notice the fever had returned and she was in a worse state than before.

           “Get him out of here!”

           “All of you leave! Now!”

           The warmth was gone and the room was cool again. Something cold yet soft was trailed throughout her whole body. “Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll make it better.”

          When YN awoke it was to the sweet scent of raspberries and sugar. She leaned into the scent, wanting to drink more and more of it in. Only when she heard soft giggles and a sigh, did YN finally pry her eyes open. It stung at first all the clarity in the room, but after a couple of seconds, she became adjusted to it. YN felt depleted in every sense of the word but didn't yet know why. Her body ached, the way it might after a strenuous workout and her mind felt numb. It was when her outstretched arms touched skin that YN turned to the side, surprised to see Rosé of all people in her room.

           “Ro!” YN jumped up and embraced her friend. Having felt like it’d been years since they had last seen each other.

           Rosé hugged her back, but her grip wasn’t as tight and her eyes were filled with concern. “I’m so glad you’re okay YN. You had everyone so worried.”

           YN was taken aback, “What do you mean?” YN pulled away and looked into Rosé’s face trying to decipher what she meant.

           Rosé herself looked only more puzzled by YN’s words. “YN,” she spoke carefully as if explaining to a child, “You were in heat.”

           “That’s ridiculous my heat isn’t for a couple more days. I’ve been taking the suppressants.”

"YN, you were in heat. It's been almost a week and it was only this morning that you broke the fever." That didn't make any sense. How had it been a week? The last thing YN knew had been taking her suppressants and heading to bed. Had they not worked? But they'd worked fine for years. Even if it was a faulty batch, her heat wasn't supposed to occur so suddenly. YN didn't know what to say.

           “I’ve never heard of heats lasting that long or being that intense. They're only supposed to last a day or two max. Is that normal for you?” Rosé was wracking her head trying to find an explanation all the while YN sat silent. If I had my heat then that means… “And your mates were so worried. They kept asking me if this was a normal thing, but I didn’t know how to answer. Everyone was so scared YN.” That caught her attention, YN vaguely recalled people around her but she assumed that was a dream. “Did you take care of me, Ro?” The girl shook her head, “I was only allowed to see you today once they were sure your heat was over.”

           “What? Why?!” YN’s anxiety was beginning to rise.

           "It's normal. Mates get protective during heats, plus it wouldn't have been safe for another omega to be around. Could've triggered my heat and then we'd be screwed." This had quelled her fears, if only momentarily, casting a glance around the room YN noticed it was a wreck. Her bathroom door was thrown open and YN could see wet spots on the carpet and floor. Not to mention the basket was overbrimming with dirty clothes and sheets. Her memory of the events was fuzzy, it felt like she had just woken up from a long sleep. "Why are the doors gone?"

           Rosé whipped her head to see where YN was staring, then she smiled apologetically. "Um, apparently you triggered your alphas ruts. They're locked away in the mansion riding it out." So it had been the others who had taken care of her, which put her more at ease. "Where are they?" YN couldn't see anyone standing outside and her nose felt plugged, not allowing her to sense them. "They said they were going to get cleaned up. I'm sure they'll be back soon. They can't stand to be away from you for too long." YN was thankful that there were betas in the group. Though she couldn't see a pack of all alpha's getting along.

           “I’m sorry Ro. Sorry for scaring you.”

           "You don't have to apologize to me. I know how it is. I would talk to them about it though so that all of you can be prepared next time." Right, next time.

           “Don’t worry. This won’t happen again. I probably just got a bad batch.” YN was certain this wouldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t allow it to.

           "Yeah, but haven't you had them for a while. It's strange to get a reaction now. How'd your last heat go?" YN didn't know how to answer that question. Well, she did, but she knew the second Rosé found out the truth it would all be over. "What do you mean?" YN feigned innocence. Rosé tilted her head in confusion, "You know...how long was your last heat? I'm certain it wasn't this long. I don't remember you taking time off." Fuck. The longer she stayed quiet the more concerned Rosé became. “If this keeps happening you have to go see a doctor. It isn’t normal and can be a sign that something is up.”

           YN waved her off, “I’m sure everything is fine. My last heat only lasted three days.”

           “Okay, but when was your last heat?” Rosé had finally landed on the jackpot question. YN’s reluctance to answer only caused her friend to press her more. “I mean I don’t recall you ever getting like this.”

           YN sighed, running a hand through her hair only to find it was greasy and long overdue for a wash. “I haven’t had a heat since I presented Rose.” Her friend remained frozen in shock until YN’s words finally dawned on her. “Are you insane?! Why haven’t you said anything?! That isn’t normal YN! Something is obviously very wrong.”

           “I know it isn’t normal Rosé, but nothing is wrong. I’ve just been using the suppressants.”

           “But they aren’t meant to be used like that. They’re only supposed to control side effects, not fully take away your heat. No wonder you were in heat for so long. Do you realize how reckless you’ve been?! You could’ve died!”

YN rolled her eyes, "You're being ridiculous Ro. I wouldn't have died." Rosé had always been an overthinker and someone of frail health so it made sense to YN that she would react like this. This is partly the reason YN had refrained from telling her friend, the other reason is it was illegal.

           “Your mates told me you reached 41 degrees.” Oh. "Your body shut down and went into survival mode. They were afraid to take you to the hospital because they knew it might worsen your heat." YN had heard of intense heats causing fevers and cramps, but never to that extent. Perhaps, she had gone a bit overboard with the suppressants and her body needed a release.

"I'm sorry Ro. I really am. You're right I was being stupid, but I was scared. I didn't know how to deal with heats and the first time I experienced one I -" She had been about to tell Rosé everything. Confess the truth, but that would only shatter Rosé's perception of YN. Rosé would accuse her of lying and want to end their friendship, she couldn't risk her reputation by being associated with someone like YN. "- I was scared. That's why I did it."  

           “Oh YN.” Rosé pulled her into a tight hug and YN almost wept at the thought of losing her best friend. The person she truly had left. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Just promise you won’t do it again.” YN nodded, burying her head into Rosé’s neck unsure of whether she was being honest or not. She hoped she was.

           “I’m happy to see you’re feeling better.” True to Rosé’s words the men had returned in ten minutes exactly. Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung looked clean and brand new but YN noticed the weary expressions on their faces and the bags under their eyes. Yoongi smiled and went to sit on her bed, the others entered slowly too. Their movements seemed calculated as if they were careful not to scare her.

           “I am, thank you. I’m sorry about the trouble I’ve caused.” She did feel bad and can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.

         “It’s no problem. You’re our mate, it’s our responsibility to care for you.” Jimin stated, eyes warm as he leaned against the wall nearest where the doors used to be.

         Rosé had remained quiet and by your side, but sensing something in the air she excused herself. “I’ll be going now. Sorry for any trouble I caused.” Yoongi shook his head, “You were nothing but help.” Leaning down, she pressed a kiss against your cheek and said goodbye. “Get well soon.” She waved, before leaving for good.

           Once YN was sure she was gone, she turned her attention back towards the men. "Thank you for letting her come. I know it must've been difficult." Taehyung rolled his eyes, "Please if we hadn't she probably would've called protective services on us." Despite his words, his tone was light not meant to be taken seriously. YN simply nodded, unsure of what to say or where the conversation would go. It was Jimin who took the initiative, "You really scared us. Are your heats normally like that?" YN shook her head, "No. I don't know what happened this time. I think I had a faulty batch or something." It still didn't make sense to her.

          "You should stop taking those things. They aren't good in the long term, plus we can always use alternatives." YN didn't know how she felt about that but figured it was better to go along with whatever they said then to start a fight. "Plus," Taehyung added, "You should let us know when your preheat rolls around. That way we can plan." At this YN did oppose, “Namjoon knew though. I thought he would tell you all.” Jimin sighed, “You can’t trust alphas with that kind of information. I’m sure he did mean to tell us, but it happened so suddenly.”

           YN suddenly wondered exactly where all the alphas were and what rolled they played during their heat. "Where exactly are the others?" The betas exchanged a look. "They're in Namjoon's room. It's been so long since we all experienced a heat, so it kind of triggered their ruts." Yoongi explained, looking a bit frazzled with everything. "And the door?" They all visibly tensed, Taehyung stood up from the wall to walk towards the opposite side of the bed. "That was them. Lost a bit of control when you began to call out for us, but thankfully Yoongi managed to make them snap out of it long enough to get them out." Taehyung then laid down on the bed, causing YN to have to move for there to be enough space for the two of them.

        "Don't worry. We'll install new doors by tonight." Yoongi said as he looked disapprovingly at Taehyung.

         YN took a deep breath, steadying herself, and trying to prepare for what she was about to ask. "How did you take care of me?"

           Her question disoriented the betas. "What do you mean?" Jimin asked, coming to rest on the bed near YN's legs. "We changed your sheets, clothes, and bathed you sometimes. We also tried fever medicine, but you puked that up." The men had taken care of her, but that wasn't what she had meant. "No, I know but I mean did you take care of me?"

           The men’s expressions morphed suddenly, their faces becoming stoic. YN didn’t know whether they were upset or not. “No. We didn’t.” Yoongi spoke through clenched teeth. “You were barely conscious.” It hadn’t been what she expected. Perhaps that is why it had lasted so long, they had refrained from aiding her.

            “Oh. I just thought -”

             “Frankly, I don’t appreciate the accusation.” Taehyung’s voice had dropped at least two octaves lower. Even Jimin seemed to be gripping the bedding tightly.

               YN shook her head, raising her hands up. “That wasn’t what I meant. I was simply asking, but thank you. For respecting me.” It was a lot more than others would do in that situation. Especially with a partial bond established.

               "YN," Jimin called her name, forcing her to look at him. "You are our mate. Don't forget it and don't ever suggest something like that again."

               It seems they were trying to keep their hormones under control, for her sake, but YN could feel the anger radiating off them even in her weakened state. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Not knowing what else to do, YN reached out to touch Jimin and Taehyung’s hands while smiling at Yoongi. After a while, the tension dissipated and all of them were smiling. Each for a different reason, however. YN because she had managed to deescalate a potentially dangerous situation and the men because for the first time since knowing each other YN hadn’t denied being their mate.

         New doors had been installed, though these featured a combination lock the other ones didn't. 'For privacy' YN had been told and though she suspected that was not the only reason, she was at least thankful for it. She was also grateful that her tattoo wasn't ruined because of her heat as that would result in a whole other fiasco. The others had most likely noticed it - difficult to miss it was but hadn't seemed to care. Overall, YN was feeling a lot better and though Yoongi had insisted she rest, YN found that difficult to do. She had showered and applied lotion onto her tattoo before dressing and deciding to explore the grounds. Even though YN longed to go out with everyone else locked in the house, she decided that might not be the best idea.  

           As beautiful as the day was it had a draft which had her skipping over the swimming pool. The patio area was pleasant but seemed typical as did the outdoor kitchen. YN walked to where both side entrances were, eyeing the cameras observing her, but found them to be locked. In the end, YN settled on dragging out the large rug in the middle of her room outside to lay near the lilies. The garden was beautiful, reminding her of a simpler time. She watched as the gentle breeze caused the flowers to sway from side to side. With the sun partly hidden behind clouds, YN was warm but not uncomfortably so. The sound of nature around her was like a sweet lullaby which caused her eyelids to hang heavy after a while.

           This is so nice. Once she closed her eyes, her other senses heightened causing her nose to pick up on the soft smell of cotton. It smelled like a mix of eucalyptus and cotton, fresh and relaxing. "Mm. Smells nice." A soft chuckle reached her ears, YN opened her eyes to see Seokjin standing a few feet away from her. Though her primary reaction was to cower away, once she noticed his clean attire and the slouch in his usually straight spine YN quelled her fears away. "Sorry," Seokjin said softly. "I didn't mean to scare you." YN shook her head, she knew what she should do next: stand up, excuse herself, and walk away. But she was so comfortable on the grass and despite what she'd been warned the alpha in front of her didn't seem like he was in a rut. Didn't smell like it either. "I'm glad you're feeling better. We were all worried." Seokjin seemed awkward standing around, but YN didn't make a move to invite him nor did she dismiss him entirely.

           "Thank you for taking care of me." The smile on her face was genuine even if her words weren't the entire truth. Seokjin nodded but refrained from saying anything else. After a couple of tense seconds where both of them stared at each other expectantly, YN relented. Gesturing over to the carpet before shifting over. Seokjin took the same position as her, laying down staring up at the sky. "You're peaceful when you sleep." He commented, catching YN off guard.

           “As opposed to?” She joked trying to lighten the mood.

           “You were restless last week. Barely slept and even then when you did sleep, we were afraid you weren’t going to wake up again.” He spoke earnestly, tone hushed yet somber.

            "Oh," YN didn't know it had been that bad. She trusted Rosé but knew the omega was a worrier. Seeing the frown nestled between her brows, Seokjin reached over and smoothed the area. YN's eyes widening at his actions. "Don't worry. It wasn't that bad, we just were unprepared." Instead of removing his hand, the alpha trailed towards her cheek, cupping it gently. YN angeled her body so that she was facing him better, "The others told me about what happened. Did I really trigger your rut?" YN knew an alpha's ruts could be just as intense and painful as omegas. YN would never purposely want to inflict that loss of control on someone. No matter who they were.

            Seokjin smiled gently, “Don’t worry. It was only really Namjoon and Hoseok who you triggered. Jungkook and I already had our ruts but we decided to help the others, plus we didn’t want to risk it.” YN had assumed that the younger alpha in his lust-filled rage had been the one to tear down the door, or they all did. Never could she imagine Jungkook aiding the betas. “Then what happened to the door?”

             “Ah,” Seokjin laughed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “A fight broke out between us about whether we should take you to a hospital or not. Some of us got a bit territorial, things escalated and well… combine that with our ruts and we felt you weren’t safe so we wanted to take you into the house.”

            “To nest?”

           "Kinda. Jimin argued that you would feel uncomfortable if you woke up and were in a bed with all of us, so a fight broke out." A fight between mates? That YN had never heard of. She expressed said thoughts to Seokjin who only shrugged in response, "We're only human. Most of the time we agree on how to care for our mates, but each of us has different coping mechanisms and we were unprepared."

            YN didn't know why but she felt at ease around Seokjin, maybe because the alpha had never not been respectable and aware of her boundaries. Perhaps because he seemed like the only one who didn't place the pack bond above all or even acted like the stereotypical alpha. She felt they could be friends. That was a lot more than she felt for most of the residents in the house. Still, as the day went on and the sun began to set, the two of them remained on the carpet. Basking in the beauty of the day and each other's presence, though none would admit to it. It wasn't until the last sliver of sunlight remained, that their eyes met once more and YN found herself inkling to know him better. Most surprisingly of all, YN wanted to kiss him.

[reversecreek]

pops hip n winks at the dash. haaaaiiii. me again. i’ve honestly missed playing lana fr a while she’s one of. my most treasured muses bc she’s jst a silly n vivacious ball of sunshine or alternatively? a train wreck depending on which way u turn her in the light..... i actually hv two playlists made fr her n one is rly old bt it’s more like. songs that Remind me of her which u can find here n then here is more like. stuff u’ll most often catch her blasting on her record player as she dances around in her underwear w the curtains open. OH and here is her pinterest 🍓⚡

* kristine froseth, cis female + she/her  | you know lana jameson, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, a few hours? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to play that funky music by wild cherry like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole cherry red gym socks worn with nothing else, doodling penises in the condensation of a stranger’s car window, a bumper sticker on the back of a convertible cadillac that says ‘scrappy doo is a filthy slut’ thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is june 2nd, so they’re a gemini, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her  )

HISTORY:

lana grew up in a big house in albany, NY. i picture it w dark oak floors n lots of light furniture. albums framed on walls. mayb some rolling stone covers too frm way bk when of the bands her dad’s label signed. kind of like… a rock star palace w no evidence of children at all. i think i described it best in one of lana’s self paras once when i said the garden ws “as big as it was unloved”

lana’s mum victoria (vic) ws a music journalist w a pretty fruitful career ahead of her when she met lana’s dad richard (rich). his record label ws jst starting out, founded on the coattails of his wealthy best friend’s (jensen peters) investment w his other best friend (who he jst calls knoxville). it rocketed to success when they signed poppy injects, a rock band w an electric stage presence, n vic ws drawn to the glitz n glamour of a man tht ws at the helm of his aspiring industry. their love ws very impulsive, all or nothing right frm the start, n it ws almost like she ws mre in love w his accomplishments n what he represented than him.

(DRUGS TW) anyway so jameson records repped a few rock bands bk in the eighties, altho poppy injects r who they’re mostly known fr, namely bc of hw brightly they crashed n burned. they were a big chart success bt the lead singer hd quite an intense struggle w heroin (wsnt rly subtle abt it either while he ws in the public eye as u cn probably imagine frm such an on-the-nose band name) n he ws always in n out of the papers. it eventually brought down his career n it ws a big publicity nightmare

lana pretty much… grew up around figures like this throughout childhood. real characters who wld kind of… b extremely volatile n destructive abt their troubles. the jameson house was an open one as welcoming clients went n a lot of parties took place there. a lot of the time musicians wld b snorting lines in the kitchen when she wnted to grab a bowl of cereal fr breakfast n it was just. a very strange environment fr a child to grow up in. more zoo than home. more shaken snow globe than resting place. (END OF TW)

(ABORTION REFERENCE) her parents always kind of jst… didn’t like her much. her older brother caleb ws unplanned bt they sort of welcomed the surprise more bt… quickly realised they weren’t cut out fr parenthood n then when lana came as another surprise 3 yrs later they didn’t even try to hide their resentment abt the situation. her mum ws actually booked in to have an abortion bt cldnt go through with it at the last minute. once when lana ws a kid she asked her why she’s so cold towards her she jst turned her head frm her dresser, looked at her, told her abt this n said “idk why i didn’t go”. lana didn’t kno wht to say to tht so she jst left her room n closed the door (END OF REFERENCE)

(DISSOCIATION TW) bc of the intensity of her parents ignoring her growing up lana adopted this sense of like…. she didn’t rly kno what it ws bt it ws a delusion of sorts where she thought she ws a ghost bc she gt this strange outside feeling. she’d jst sort of… drift around the halls w no-one acknowledging her n sometimes she ws jst convinced she wsnt actually there or they cldnt see her n she ws jst haunting the house frm a previous family. (END OF TW) her imagination festered an explanation out of smthn she didn’t understand essentially. lana used her imagination to do this a lot growing up. it ws kind of like the band aid she slapped over everything. after all she wasn’t alone if she was sword fighting imaginary pirates dwn the hallway with a poker from the fireplace. 

the one saving grace tho tht sort of?? gt her thru this n made her feel Seen ws caleb. lana quite genuinely hs always thought the sun shines out of her older brothers ass like she jst thinks. he’s the best person in the entire world. wld b rly bewildered if anyone questioned tht. he wld always look out for her n cut the crusts off her sandwiches (he’d cook fr them most of the time bc their parents were too busy/didn’t care to) n sometimes wld even sleep at the bottom of her bed curled up like a guard dog. it ws always lana n caleb n his best friend tommy against the world in tht house (tommy lived next door bt was always over bc he had very strict parents tht he found suffocating)

(ARMY MENTION) SO when tommy announced tht he’d signed up to the army (bc of pressures from tommy’s military dad to fulfil some kind of stupid “legacy” tommy didn’t even care abt) n caleb said he was going with him lana ws understandably…….. completely blindsided. she ws rly upset tht they were leaving n was kind of like “wtf why are u doing this like what do u even think this is gna solve” etc n begged caleb not to leave her there on her own n jst to not sign up in general bc tommy had to bt he didn’t listen. 

ERM i won’t go into it but it didn’t turn out well as u can probably imagine bc the army is a terrible industry n caleb had to return home without tommy. he wasn’t the same after that. (END OF MENTION)

what’d been a rly close relationship before where he ws basically like a surrogate father figure to lana was Not there any more. he ws rly withdrawn n always pushing her away n snapping at her for the sake of getting her to leave him alone. on top of this lana had a lot of shit go down while he was away n rly just shouldn’t have been a kid alone in tht house. regardless lana thought if she kept grinning as wide as she cld she’d convince caleb to join in too. maybe if she seemed fine n happy he’d take the lead. maybe she’d believe it too n start to feel it n everything could go bk to how it was before her world became so different. lana liked the way the sky flipped when she tipped her head back on the swings bt this was different. everything was upside down bt this didn’t make her belly feel like she’d swallowed a butterfly and it wasn’t funny bt still, she kept laughing. always desperate to find something to laugh at n if she couldn’t find it she invented it. as long as ur laughing the world can’t b that bad.

she ws always well liked in school bc she jst tended to treat everyone like they were bffs no matter who like u cld have literally bumped shoulders w her once in the corridor n she’d be like OMG HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII let’s kiss<3 n like she ws a huge notorious flirt w any n all as well as incredibly impulsive n jst. wild honestly to put it simply too bt things like. changed a bit frm 16 onwards. (HYPERSEXUALITY & IMPLIED TRAUMA TW) she jst became far more reckless honestly n like....... jst didn’t rly seem to care after a certain point abt herself too much.... got herself in a bunch of bad situations.......... kind of jst flung herself to the wolves numerous times without any caution abt the way they’d bite. formed a lot of self destructive habits one of which ws cruising craigslist personals fr random hook-ups n like. she literally cld have wound up in a ditch somewhere honestly it’s a shock she hasn’t. despite various dips n inclines in her journey navigating this side of her it’s very much still present in her life to this day n she struggles to kno hw to control herself at points. sometimes she feels like a melting candle tht needs moulding by thumbs until it can form a person again. sometimes she’s only sure she’s real when she’s being touched. (END OF TW)

ANYWAY. laughs nervously. went to college to study dance bc she’s always loved dance in general bt specifically ballet (despite definitely not hving the discipline for it) n honestly this was both good n bad fr her. had a whole string of terrible heartbreaking relationships bc she tends to fall into those hard n fast n they were w a lot of bad people fr like 98% of the time. she kind of learned more abt what love is during her time there tho which is a gd thing bt she still isn’t very good at knowing hw to believe she deserves it so it’s a process. she hd fun tho. threw 498572598475 outrageous n elaborately themed parties. ws friends w pretty much everyone on campus. 

despite a strained relationship w her brother n having to go home to visit n check on him whenever he got rly bad it ws the first time it actually felt like she’d found a home in a lot of rly loving n genuine friendships n lana will never forget hw much that experience meant to her even if she definitely struggled there too. college felt like a place she belonged n then suddenly she couldn’t belong there any more n there was a big sense of floundering in that. like where do u go now when u’ve never known home elsewhere? how do u happily go out into the world if it means leaving ur world behind?

she applied to a dance company in LA n fell in w a pretentious art scene there full of wannabe andy warhols n the like. became a makeshift edie sedgwick to some guy w dyed white hair n the idea his every concept was revolutionary when rly he jst shot her dancing barely clothed splashing around in a random fountain in his friend’s mansion on an ancient film camera. she’d spend her days floating around on lilo’s and prancing in feather boas and racing with glitter leftover frm last night in her leotard w smudges of faint red lipstick to barely make her job on time. always a sexy train wreck bt this time? make it hollywood. 

(IMPLIED ALCOHOLISM TW) i won’t lie to u lana hs always partied way too hard bt then partying way too hard turned into slurping merlot thru a crazy straw shaped like a flamingo at 4 in the afternoon wearing penis novelty sunglasses n it wasn’t quite so much of a party when u were doing it on ur own. this rly snowballed into place in college bt carried on n wound up getting her fired from the dance company bc she turned up to rehearsals drunk one too many times n they didn’t allow fr sloppiness like tht. it was a “professional operation” that didn’t “accept that kind of behaviour” bt lana was jst like ummmmmmmmm that’s totally dramatic btw way to spank me in the town square like i’m gale w a raw ass n back in the hunger games bt ok sure i’m out ig. BOOP! (literally booped the director on the nose before leaving) (END OF TW)

honestly hd no idea what to do w herself after her job fell thru in LA n was pretty embarrassed actually upon sobering up the nxt day. cldn’t bring herself to tell her friends for a hot minute bc she felt like a failure or smthn n she was meant to be living this glamorous life out there being the classic wild n silly n fun Lana Jameson. cldn’t figure out how to repackage it into a funny story tht wouldn’t worry ppl. eventually wound up jst caving n telling her closest besties (shoutout freya n rosa) bc she ws hving a weird time dating losers n randomly living in LA even tho she didn’t kno why she was there any more after losing the job n they were jst like. fk it then. jst come here. we’re in irving. and so? mizz jameson packed her bags....

PERSONALITY:

always smells vaguely of wild cherries or strawberry starburst or jst the candy aisle in general. if she ws a vinyl record she’d b this one n she’d only play good vibrations by the beach boys, dancing on my own by robyn, play that funky music by wild cherry, femme fatale by the velvet underground n (i can’t get no) satisfaction by the rolling stones

the jameson family r pretty well off n bc of her relation to such a big music industry figure she’s hung out w a fair few relatively high rep ppl thru her teens. mostly kids of celebrities n stuff like tht. she amassed a bit of an instagram following #nepotism bt also fr her style (v penny lane-esque in some aspects. lots of fur cuff trimmed jackets bt then also jst…. a wild combination of everything honestly. pastel faux fur coats, seventies style platforms, bright red cowboy boots, pink fishnet tights, holographic stickers of planets on her cheek n glitter used like highlight, 90% of the time a red lip) n bc she’s not gna make ur eyes bleed to look at or anything let’s b real

growing up lana was always a huge social butterfly. knew everyone n everyone knew her. she ws one of those girls tht ws kind of impossible to ignore or forget. very animated, always made u feel like u were the centre of the universe whenever she spoke to u, always made it feel like u were best friends even if ud only spoken to her once.

deliberately puts on tht kind of Magnetic Alluring Act tht femme fatales wear in movies w most ppl. kind of…. is always playing A Role of the person tht she wants to b seen as. hates being sad n always wnts to be happy / making ppl happy. chameleons to situations. feels like she’s performed as the vivacious n fun loving Lana Jameson fr so long tht she doesn’t rly kno who she is beneath tht bt she isn’t too keen to find out. sometimes gets glimpses n feels the urge to close her eyes.

she’s always been rly spontaneous n adventurous. always doing something weird n wild every weekend. she has ten thousand ridiculously absurd n chaotic stories. she’s like oh ya this one time this guy made me ride him with a daddy saddle like i was woody and he was bullseye. he literally made me call him bullseye. or she’s like. oh ya once i had to run barefoot thru a cabbage patch bc this one farmer wanted to have a threeway w me n my friend tht we met off craigslist n every framed photo in his house was a pig dressed up in cosplay bt honestly they were kind of cute n he was sexy aside frm the murderous vibes n the fact he kept calling me babe which i’m pretty sure means he wanted to dress me up next bt like whatever honestly.... she tells jst the most batshit stuff n the person she’s telling it to is left blinking like. wtf.

uncontrollably flirty. insanely confident. cld make a joke out a paper bag n will try. she tends to laugh when she feels like crying n has a smile brighter than a ray of texas sunshine.

likes to roller skate n hs a red pair she’ll glide around in at night lit up by amber street lamps breath sticky w the taste of wine n lollipops probably heading to a random hookups. who needs ubers?

always dapples her fingers thru the breeze when she’s driving in a car w the window down. honestly likes dangling her whole body halfway out too. she almost always has some sort of sweet on her, whether it’s sour haribo cherries or strawberry lollipops.

luvs bowie (ONLY aesthetically) n prince (wholeheartedly) n madonna (completely) n anyone tht’s a vintage style icon w little care fr what ppl think.

daisies n poppies r her fav flowers bc daisies r wild n overlooked n poppies r the first thing u look at in a green field. she’s had like 8472493874 ‘relationships’ n none of them hav lasted beyond a month / hav been terrible / hav seen her being treated badly / she’s cheated on them. honestly it’s like a burning train wreck but u can’t quite tear ur eyes away. often the heart of many sordid gossip scandals.

PLOTS:

TBA bc she’s only jst arrived in town i won’t lie to u all but i’m gna whip things up on here anyway n link in chat w updates at some point........ that said? lana is insatiable n it isn’t rly unlikely tht she cld’ve bumped into ur muse in a grocery store aisle n somehow a wild spontaneous adventure spawned frm that alone.......... if u have any immediate ideas we can discuss 😋

[cruelangelstheses]

the whirlwind girl

fandom: six of crows rating: T characters: inej, nina words: 2.1k additional tags: modern au with magic, first meetings, sexual harassment, could be read as platonic or romantic description: when a drunk man hits on inej at a bar, a stranger comes to her rescue. a/n: HIIII i wrote this for the @sixofcrowszine which has now been shipped so i can post!!! i don’t have much to say except that this book absolutely enraptured me and i love nina and inej and their interactions with each other so !! girls <3 inspired by that prompt that’s like “you were being hit on at a bar so i pretended to be your partner to get them to go away”

read it on ao3

—

Inej isn’t sure why she’s even here.

She’s never been a fan of clubs or bars or similar establishments, especially not at night—too loud, bursting full with people whose inhibitions are hindered by alcohol. Besides, she’s just finished performing, and while the roar of a crowd cheering for her is much different from a bunch of random drunks, it still counts as being around people, and it drains her just the same. She prefers to spend her evenings curled up with a book or hanging out with a couple of close friends, not out late partying.

The whole reason she even came into the Crow Club in the first place is because she knows someone who works here, a funny and good-natured—if reckless—young man named Jesper, who spends about the same amount of time gambling during his off-hours as he does bartending during his shifts. Unfortunately for Inej, it turns out that Jesper, for once in his life, actually isn’t here tonight, even though he’s always here on Saturday nights. According to the current bartender, a slightly older man that Inej doesn’t recognize, he’s on a date, of all things, with a boy named Wylan. Perhaps she’ll text him about it later and ask how it went.

She’s happy for him, of course, but this also means that she has no business being at the Crow Club, so now she’s sitting awkwardly at the bar with a virgin pina colada in hand. She rarely drinks alcohol; she always needs to feel sharp, like the edge of a fresh blade. She knows she could just pay and leave, but it feels weird; she just got here. Maybe she’ll sit and people-watch for another ten or fifteen minutes, then slip out.

As this thought crosses her mind, Inej watches as a stocky, sweaty-looking man, already clearly inebriated, enters the casino...and immediately plops down onto the empty barstool beside her.

Inej takes a sip of her drink and stares down into the glass, pretending to be incredibly interested in its contents, but it does nothing to stop the man from leaning over and saying, “Saw your performance.” His breath smells of cheap whiskey, and Inej has to stop herself from wrinkling her nose.

“Did you, now?” she says without looking at him. Inej works the same job she’s always worked: she performs with her parents as a small troupe of traveling acrobats. Despite their occupation being somewhat unconventional in this day and age—circuses and such just don’t get as much traction as they used to—they manage fairly well. Besides, Inej lives for the thrill of the high wire.

“I did,” the man replies. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see him grinning like a wild dog. “Impressive, if I do say so myself.”

“Thank you.” Inej drums her fingernails nervously against the glass and takes another sip. She can feel her butterfly knife up against her hip, but using it might get her kicked out of the Crow Club—which wouldn’t be a huge loss, really, except that she’d hardly ever get to see Jesper. She already doesn’t see him very often since she travels so much. Or maybe pulling a knife on a guy wouldn’t make a difference here; it’s far from the nicest place in Ketterdam, and Ketterdam is far from the nicest city in Kerch.

Unexpectedly, the man slings an arm around Inej’s shoulders. “What do you say to showing me a few more tricks, hmm?”

This is why Inej doesn’t like bars.

“Um.” She clears her throat, squirming slightly. “No, thank you. Uh, my parents wouldn’t be pleased.”

The man licks his lips. His eyes gleam with bad intentions. “Who says your parents have to know, huh?”

Before Inej can say or do anything else, a brown-haired whirlwind of a girl she’s never seen before marches up to them and says in Kerch, “Hey! Hands off my girlfriend!”

Inej can feel her face heating up. Either this girl has the wrong person, or she knows exactly what she’s doing.

The man narrows his eyes in confusion and reluctantly pulls his arm away from Inej. The girl, pale and curvaceous with bright green eyes, puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head in disbelief. “Honestly. I leave for five minutes to go to the bathroom and come back to find that someone thinks he can just put his hands all over her. I mean, have some damn respect!” At that, she points an accusatory finger at the man.

Alright. It’s definitely the latter.

“I, uh, didn’t realize she was taken,” he says as he looks the girl up and down. “But hey,” he adds with a sly grin, “the more the merrier, right?”

The girl groans. “Classic,” she mutters under her breath. Putting a hand on the man’s upper arm, she leans in and says, quiet but firm, “We’re not interested.”

The man’s eyelids start to droop. Then, a second later, he passes out face-first onto the counter. A few people turn to look in their direction, and the girl feigns concern, gesturing helplessly to the man. “I think he had too much to drink,” she says, which is probably true, to be fair. One of the bouncers sighs and wanders over to grab him.

Inej watches them in silence. It’s not until the bouncer and the unconscious man are completely out of earshot that she turns to the girl that rescued her and says, not unkindly, “You’re a Heartrender.”

The girl hops up onto the barstool previously inhabited by the drunk man. “That I am,” she says quietly, so as not to be heard by the wrong set of ears. Suddenly she’s speaking in perfect Suli instead of Kerch, perhaps to make Inej more comfortable. “But more importantly, I’m the girl who just saved your ass.” She shrugs. “I thought maybe I could get him to leave you alone without having to use my power, but then he got creepier, so I just kind of said ‘fuck it’ and lowered his heart rate enough to make him pass out.”

Inej laughs a little at that. “I bet that’s useful,” she replies.

“Oh, yeah,” the girl agrees, “but I’m also persecuted for it, so...you win some, you lose some, I guess.” She says it casually, but Inej can hear the bitterness behind it.

Inej isn’t a Grisha, but she is Suli, and she knows well the feeling of persecution. “I understand,” she says softly. “And...thank you.” She could’ve handled it—at least, that’s what she tells herself—but she appreciates the gesture, more than she can properly express.

“It’s nothing,” the girl replies, but the faint pink in her cheeks tells a different story. “I have a lot of experience dealing with men like that. I figured I might as well help you out.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Not that I don’t think you could’ve handled it yourself, but…”

Inej shakes her head in understanding. “No, I get it,” she says. “I’m good with a knife, but I didn’t want to use it unless I felt like I had to.”

The girl’s eyes gleam with interest at that. “Nice. Oh!” she says, looking as though she just remembered something important. “I just realized I never even introduced myself. I’m Nina. You’re Inej, right? Inej Ghafa? I know you from your performances. I’ve seen some videos of you and your family online.”

“Really?” Inej says. For some reason, it still surprises her whenever people tell her that they know her from the internet. She didn’t think her family was that popular.

“Of course,” Nina replies. “You guys are really phenomenal.”

Before Inej can come up with an appropriate response to the compliment, she feels her phone buzzing in her pocket. Pulling it out, she chuckles at the name displayed: Mama. “Speaking of my family,” she says to Nina. “Let’s see if I can even hear her over all this Saints-forsaken noise.”

Nina crosses her fingers in support as Inej answers the phone and puts it up to her ear. “Hello?”

On the other end, she can just faintly hear her mother asking her where she is.

“I’m at the Crow Club, Mama,” she says. “I was looking for Jesper, but he’s not here, so I’m coming back to the room now.”

Seemingly satisfied with that response, her mother wishes her safety on the walk back to the hotel and hangs up.

“Sorry,” she says to Nina, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “I should probably be going. I was planning on leaving soon anyway when that guy came over.”

“That’s okay,” Nina says, hopping off the barstool. “I was thinking of heading out soon, too.”

Inej sets some kruge down on the counter for the bartender, then follows Nina out the door and into the cool night air.

“Hey,” Nina says as they stand outside the club, watching cars go by. “Would you want to—I don’t know—keep in touch?” She blushes as she says it, which doesn’t seem standard for her. “I know we didn’t talk for long, but I’m not from Kerch, so I don’t have many friends here, and you seem like a really cool person. I know you travel a lot, but…” She trails off and shrugs.

There’s still that part of Inej that warns her to exercise caution, that just because Nina helped her once doesn’t mean she’s “safe” yet. Deep down, though, Inej can feel the goodness in her. She saw a stranger in trouble and immediately leapt to her defense, even though it could’ve ended badly, even though she could’ve exposed herself as a Grisha in a potentially hostile environment. The least Inej can do is allow herself to trust her, just a little, just enough.

“That would be nice,” Inej says, pulling her phone back out. “I can give you my phone number, and you can give me yours.”

Nina’s face lights up, and Inej knows that this is the right decision. “Great!”

They exchange phones and plug their names and numbers into each other’s contact lists. When Inej gets her phone back, she sees that Nina’s surname is Zenik. It flows nicely, like a stream unobstructed by rocks or logs: Nina Zenik. Nina Zenik.

“Hmm.” Nina taps her chin thoughtfully. “I was going to offer to walk you back to wherever you’re staying, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m mothering you or think you can’t handle yourself. But it’s also a late night in Ketterdam, and that’s dangerous for anyone, let alone a young woman walking by herself. Me as well as you.”

Inej would be lying if she said she didn’t feel at least a twinge of anxiety walking the streets of Ketterdam alone at night. Staring down at the new number in her contacts, an idea presents itself to her.

“We could talk on the phone as we walk back to our places,” she says. “That way you can make sure that I’m safe, and I can make sure that you’re safe. Then, if something were to happen to one of us, the other one would know.”

A flash of what looks like relief crosses Nina’s face before she quickly covers it up. “Good idea.”

Nina’s apartment is, of course, in the opposite direction of Inej’s hotel, so they go their separate ways until they’re out of each others’ earshot, and then Inej calls Nina.

“Wow, I haven’t heard from you in forever,” Nina says.

Inej laughs. “I know. Such an agonizingly long thirty seconds.”

It takes Inej about fifteen minutes to walk to the hotel, during which she learns that the reason Nina is in Ketterdam is because she’s studying abroad for a semester, and that she’s currently attending Os Alta University to be a translator. She tells Inej funny college stories, and Inej tells her crazy stories about her travels in return. Strangely enough, Nina’s voice actually grounds her rather than distracts her. It keeps her mind in the moment so that she never has a chance to get lost in her own head. She doesn’t usually let her mind drift when she’s out and about in a large city, but with Nina, the odds are even lower. It’s comforting. Her voice is a guiding light.

Nina arrives at her apartment first, but she stays on the line with Inej, who reaches the hotel about five minutes later. Standing outside the front doors, Inej promises to keep in touch with the whirlwind girl who bounced into her life so suddenly less than an hour ago. When they finally hang up, her chest feels light.

[goddessofeternity]

Inari’s Den

Chapter 2: Counterstrike 

I sighed deeply, inhaling all of the crisp fall air that I could as the season rolled in. Summer was ending and I was glad for it, it meant some of my favorite holidays would soon be approaching. I held my injured stomach in discomfort as I remembered my fight a few days ago. That bastard had put up a tough fight and I had to make sure to fatally wound him the next time. I know he probably survived that wound I gave him. I cursed at my mistake. My parents were just glad that I had made it back alive. My father was more than overprotective, but I never complained about it. The last few years have been difficult for our family. I wouldn’t complain about their smothering of me no matter what happened. I shook out of my thoughts and bowed my head in front of our large shrine. I prayed with all my heart that this war would be over soon. I wanted that family to burn in hell for the torment they had caused us. We had sacrificed too much because of them, I could not stand for it anymore. The ground beneath me grew hot in my anger. My parents told me to have better control of my emotions, especially during times of war. I couldn’t help that the thought of that family made me see red.

“Izumi…” My ears flicked back as I looked over my shoulder. My father smiled down at me and I stood to hug him. “Getting angry while praying will upset the gods Izumi.”

“Father...you should be resting.” I rubbed his arms as he chuckled down at me. The bags under his eyes told me quite the story. He was starting to get stressed out over the war and he had collapsed from exhaustion a week ago. My father was a stubborn workaholic through and through. My mother and I could never get him to relax no matter how hard we tried. I was sure that he didn’t expect to run into me, and was probably sneaking off to train.

“My daughter, you know that I can’t do that. We have too much to gain and lose from all of this.”

“Well Mother and I can’t lose you either. Our home is just as important as you are.” He chuckled and I hugged him close and settled under his chin. I didn’t like to think of myself as a daddy’s girl, but I couldn’t help it at times. I was very protective of both of my parents and this war made all of us a bit overbearing. I’m sure my mother was probably looking for us, my father especially. “Come on...let’s walk back home…”

I didn’t miss the reluctance on his face as I wrapped my arm around his and led him down the path back to our home. Being hurt did have its advantages, because I could relax and not feel the weight of war on my shoulders. It also meant I could eat my mother’s mochi cakes. My stomach flipped in anticipation just thinking about them and I walked faster to our home. We approached the village and many stopped their activities to bow and wave at us. I always did my best to greet everyone and let them know their hard work was appreciated. Without all of them, our family wouldn’t be the strong unit it was. As we approached our home, I could smell the mochi and I looked at my father excitedly. He chucked and patted my head as the maids opened the doors for us.

“Mother! We’re back!” My mother walked out of the kitchen cleaning off her hands before she gently grasped my face and kissed my forehead. She stopped for a second to glare at my father before they shared a quick kiss. “I think he was trying to sneak away again…”

“Yes I figured that’s what happened...you are going to get yourself into trouble if you don’t stop doing that.” My father looked away from her and I took the chance to head to the kitchen.

“Izumi….” Damn it.

“Yes Mother?”

“None until you take your medicine and you eat dinner.”

“Mother...I think I can get a pass right?” I fluttered my lashes at her and my father chuckled over her shoulder. She elbowed him in the rib and he cleared his throat quickly.

“Listen to your mother Izumi. Go ahead and take your medicine.” I pouted and they chuckled at me as I went ahead to down that awful substance. I took a peek into the kitchen as I walked by though. I would have snuck a piece but my mother always knew when I was up to something. I never really got away with anything in my youth because of her omniscience abilities, well...until I developed some of my own. I’d be a good daughter though and do as I was told. Besides, the faster I felt better, the quicker I could be back on the field.

The faster I would finally be able to kill him.

“Yamaguchi-sama...here is your medicine.” I tried not to frown as our family doctor handed me the disgusting liquid. The brown color didn’t make the situation easier and the scent made me gag. “It would be best to plug your nose my lady.”

“R-Right…” Holding my nose, I quickly swallowed the medicine and shivered as my hair stood on end. I sat still as our doctor looked my body over for the fourth time that day. “You don’t have to keep looking me over...you said that I’m already healing fantastically.”

“Yes but your parents want me to make sure of it...I think you know why too Yamaguchi`sama…”

“Yes…” My ears fell as I cursed at myself. I told myself I would not complain and I did it anyway. Awful memories flooded back into my mind, and I shook them away before they consumed me again. The clan did not need to see its future head crumble over the past, I had to think of only the future. Thinking about the future meant wiping the Igarashi clan off the face of the map. 

A task I was all too happy to plan for.

~~~

“Izumi...I need you to be more careful on these expeditions.”

“Yes Father….” My father sighed deeply as I stared him  down. It wasn’t unusual to find the two of us in a stare off when I did something reckless. My recent fight had almost given my mother a heart attack. Our garden was still recovering from the wildfire my father almost unleashed upon it. 

“We need you to carry on our legacy. I will step down soon enough and your mother and I need to be confident that you can handle it. That means you have to make better choices, not only for yourself but the clan.”

“I understand...but we need to erase them. This war has gone on for far too long. I want to end this. We deserve to live in peace after everything they have taken from us. I’m tired of not doing anything. We have to keep this advantage since we destroyed their rice fields.”

“......” My father sighed again as he stood up and paced around the meeting room. My mother patted my hand as the temperature rose. I hated these moments of doing nothing. Rest only makes people weak and then they lose their edge, an edge I needed to keep sharp for my family and people. “We need to finish this...I agree with you on that front, Izumi.”

“How are we going to do that my love? The Igarashi clan has moved closer to our territory. It won’t be long before they take a bolder approach.”

“How soon would they do that though? A massive source of their food was burned to a crisp. They are going to be too busy recovering to counterattack so soon.”

“Regardless...we have to-”

“HELP!!!” I jumped to my feet quickly and ran out of the room outside. One of the servants was convulsing on the floor. She was foaming at the mouth and her eyes started to roll back in her head. More of the servants ran to her aid, but I could smell the sudden shift in the air. She was dying and we could do nothing to stop it. Her body arched up terribly before she just stopped moving altogether.

“What happened to her?!” I knelt beside the dead woman and looked her over. My father and mother showed up not too soon after to examine her. “Answer me!”

“S-She only took a sip of water! She didn’t have anything else besides that all day…” She began to whimper and cry before my mother led her out of the room. My father stood and we both looked over the pitcher of water perched on the table. Taking a tentative sniff, I couldn’t smell anything different about it. It seemed like plain water, but I suppose that was the point.

“Poison…” My father grit his teeth in anger as he looked at my mother walk back into the room. “Did she tell you anything else mother?”

“I asked her how long ago did she drink it, and she said about 20 minutes ago. So we have an incredibly fast acting poison.”

“That damn Igarashi family!” I waved away the sudden burst of flames that surrounded my father as he stormed out the room down the hall, my mother and I close behind. “Our water comes from only one source, and they’ve poisoned it! Men! To my side!”

My father’s voice traveled quickly through the compound and it was seconds after the echo ended that his task force appeared around us. My father never told me much about them, but I would be informed more about them when I become the head. Their masked faces told me volumes though, they handled the more “dirtier” aspects of this war. 

“All the water that was recently collected remove it from the villagers' homes at once! No one drinks anything that hasn’t been in their home for the past few days. We have no idea when they could have done this. Inform the villagers that the lake will be drained.”

“Father! That water was blessed by the gods many years ago! That is sacred water...we can’t drain it!”

“Izumi! We have no choice! Would you rather we lose more people!? Think about the cons of the situation, daughter!”

“What happens now? The only other fresh water is up in the mountains, and it’s dangerous on those mountains because of the night creatures.”

“We will have to make due with what we have for now.” The men around us dispersed and I felt my own temper rise. Someone would have to have gotten in close to poison our water. One of them was in our territory, they could have launched an assault against us, but why didn’t they? Unless it was that bastard Takeshi...if it was him then he just added more fuel to my hatred for him. I should have known that family would try such tactics, and at least we attacked their fields head on.

My parents went back and forth with each other about what should be done, but I walked away. This had to be handled sooner rather than later. My injuries were the last thing on my mind as I walked into my room and got dressed. As I was tightening my bandages, a noise made me turn, and I stood quickly as my mother looked me over with an unimpressed glare.

“Mother I was just-”

“Going to confront the Igarashi family?”

“.....”

“Izumi...you have your fathers impatience and stubbornness. What exactly is your plan?” She walked over to me and helped dress me, and I looked at her surprised. “I can’t stop you now can I? I might as well make sure you are protected. Now what is your plan?”

“To kill Takeshi Igarashi.”

“That has always been the plan, daughter.” After tying back my hair, she faced me towards her with a fierce gaze. “I will not let you leave until you give me something more concrete.”

I opened my mouth ready to retort, but I found my words failing me. I...I didn’t really have a plan. I just wanted to get out there and end them. I was frustrated with the fact that they could have almost destroyed us easily. Others could be dead right now and we wouldn’t know about it until later. Either of my parents could have been the victim to that poison. It would have been the end of us just that fast. And I would not stand to fall that easily after over a hundred years of fighting. I guess I have my fathers pride for than I thought I did.

“I...I just want them to suffer…” I felt my spirit start to drain as I sighed deeply. My mother pulled me into her arms and gently rubbed my ears. That simple gesture always made me feel better. Whenever I was down, a simple stroke on my ears was all I needed.

“We have to be smart, Izumi...always, especially in times of war. We have lost...far...far too much…” I felt her tremble as she held me, and I blinked away the fresh tears that threatened to fall down my cheeks.

“We have to do something mother...we have too…” She held me at arms length and we silently stared at each other.

“Izumi….did you have a vision?” Her eyes slitted as she said it. I had been having visions since I was very young. It was not odd for a kitsune to have such abilities, but they had never been more than little mundane things. Ever since the war had begun, my visions had become more dangerous. We had only taken them more seriously when...well we should have from the start. Our naivete cost us more than we could have ever imagined. It was something that still kept my mother awake at night.

“I haven’t had any visions, mother...it’s been years since I’ve had one. I would tell you and father right away if I did have one.” She smiled a bit before brushing my hair from my face. She leaned her forehead against mine before gently kissing it.

“Think of a plan Izumi...we can talk about it later. Your father and I will deal with this poison issue. Go and train instead alright?”

“Yes mother…” As she walked away, I went over to my swords and ran my hands over their sheaths. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you feel his cold dead corpse at your other end. I promise that you will get your chance.”

I had to think of the best course of action to take. Our armies were strong and we’d done a good job over the years, but we had to change the tide somewhere. My mother wanted me to make a plan then so be it. I would do what I must to make sure that everyone survives this coming battle. I had to strike while the iron was hot. 

I already had an idea of what it was that I would be doing, and this time I would not fail. Takeshi Igarashi would lose his life to my blades when they cross again, and nothing would stop me from achieving my goal. 

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

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[buryyourfavouritestrope]

Kagari’s Sister? - Nobuchika Ginoza

Author Note: So this was written whilst sleep deprived, so whether it makes sense or not, it’s being uploaded as a reminder that even if its bad its still writing process. Enough rambling from me though, I should say I never fact checked if Enforcers could have outside visitors but I assumed it was a no, BUT when it Rome make like trees as they say...what do you mean they don’t say that

Everyone knew how incredibly rare it was that anyone would even entertain the idea of letting and Enforcer have a visitor. Not to mention how incredibly uncommon it was for said Enforcer’s request to be granted. The building was only ever entered by Inspectors, and those that roamed the halls were either doing their job or untameable animals.

Still, it didn’t escape Ginoza’s attention whenever Kagari would bounce around in his seat like a child on a sugar high whenever he was scheduled for his visitor. He’d never really seen the special guest, he called them special because again this was rare and even his mother had been refused entry to see Masaoka.

“Well, I hate to leave you all, but I’ve got a pretty cute guest to entertain in the cafeteria” Kagari grinned. He’d been unable to sit still for the past six hours, Ginoza was almost at the point of going to grab a Dominator just to end the never-ending squeak of Kagiri’s chair wheels.

“I think that’s perfect timing to call a lunch break, wouldn’t you Ginoza” Masaoka’s voice boomed across the bodies. Ginoza would’ve disagreed if he hadn’t noticed the sudden dip in Kagari’s stance. The young Enforcer was clearly unhappy with the possibility of everyone turning up during his visit. Beside Masaoka, and Kogami that one time, no-one had ever met this mysterious person.

“Fine, do as you please” He remarked. He’d play nonchalant as his everyone dashed from the room. In a few minutes he would wonder through the halls and find himself stumbling upon Kagari’s visitation. He would feign innocence as he grabbed some food. He’d pretend he was unaware of where they sat as he positioned himself at one of the tables. If he was lucky, he’d sit at a table with Kogami or Tsunemori. At a push he’d sit with his father.

Sure enough, as he stepped into the room, he could see the huddle of Enforcer’s. Well three Enforcers. Clearly, Kogami and Tsunemori had decided to go about their own business on this brief rest from their work. Masaoka and Kunizuka had taken it upon themselves to join Kagari and –

Ginoza froze for a second, he’d seen Kagari’s visitor before. He was certain of it. The same energetic eyes that he saw throughout his days. It hadn’t snapped until Kagari had handed the woman some fries off of his plate. A grin on her face as she used her unoccupied hand to rustle his hair. It didn’t take a genius to notice the resemblance.

“I’ll tell you something Mr Masaoka, until Shusei was placed into rehabilitation, he used to be a nightmare. He gave our dad the run around even as a toddler. It used to be Shu, put that vase down before you and then little Shusei would throw it. Our dad couldn’t hate him though, because he was so adorable with little chubby cheeks and the biggest grin.” Every syllable was lapped up by the surrounding people. They hung enticed by her words as they all laughed.

“I hated that facility. I tell you what sis, this place treats me better than there. At least they finally let you see me” Kagari, who had by now turned a rather distinct shade of red, boomed. “And I get to cook here. You should see my room, it’s everything a bachelor like me could need. Minus the stiff guy in charge, this is the perfect job”

“Hey, respect your boss, he could throw you back into rehab, speaking of which, could you guys thank him for me. I keep asking Shu to but he refuses it. I haven’t seen my brother this happy since he was consuming kids’ programs at home” She chastised. Her fingers flicked her brother’s nose. The younger sibling flinched releasing a groan in pain as he turned away from the group.

“Uh oh,” Kagari practically shouted, his eyes widened at Ginoza. The man had still been stood frozen in place. He’d listen to the group talking. “Hey Inspector, how long have you been stood there?”

At the question member of the party turned to the look at him. Nobuchika sighed before moving. He would’ve said something witty in response, but he was still trying to contain the amusement he felt from watching Kagari contort in pain. His looked away from the group in favour of finding some lunch, he barely noticed the screech of a chair on the floor. It hadn’t been until he felt someone touch his arm effectively stopping him in his track.

Nobuchika turned to see the elder Kagiri, her head bowed and her hands in front of her body. With a raised eyebrow Ginoza took in her appearance. She wore a jumper, a few sizes too big for her as though it had been a hand me down. He noticed the hole in the left shoulder, and the way the material covered her hands. No matter how many times she folded the cuffs of the sleeves.

“Thank you, Inspector. My brother is a handful at the best of times, and though he’s carefree and reckless I can see just how much he enjoys it here. I also apologise for my idiot brother, he has a disease, the names long and complex but in short its best defined by he doesn’t have enough brain cells to think before he speaks or acts.” She uttered. She lifted herself from her stance, her eyes looking over to Ginoza.

“Well, I’ll be damned. I never thought I see old Gino smile.” Masaoka chuckled. Ginoza frowned, he had even realised he was smiling. Not until he felt his face drop and himself glare towards his father. The older man held his hands up in surrender as the other Enforcers stifled their laughter.

“Gino” She mused, her words were quiet enough for the others not to hear, but he found himself stiffening at the short syllables. “I’m sorry my idiot brother didn’t tell me your name”

“Inspector Nobuchika Ginoza” He held the formality as he spoke to her. She nodded, her smile widening as she let the words settle in her thoughts.

“Inspector Ginoza, I’m Shusei’s older sister, I won’t take up anymore of your lunch break but if you want to join us you can. I’d like to see you smile again.” She grinned.

“Smile?” He queried.

“Yeah, you have a nice smile. You should do it more often.” She informed him. He couldn’t stop the way his lips twitched at the sentence as though his body found more pleasure in her words than his brain did. Ginoza didn’t respond, he wasn’t sure how to. No-one had ever outwardly complimented his features. Not since he was a teenager going to a school prom, and back then it had been his mother.

“Oh great, my sister’s flirting with my boss. I’d like to ask them to stop the visitations.” Kagari groaned. Ginoza heard the groan of pain even with his back turned. He chuckled to himself as he walked away. Perhaps he would join them. Perhaps.

[vernonfielding]

No pain no gain

Missing scene fic from Jimmy Jabs 2! This is shameless hurt/comfort (and some mild Jake/Amy Being Serious). Thank you to the lovely and super smart @fezzle and @feeisamarshmallow for the fantastic beta!! Title is more Bash Brothers (from Let’s Bash). 

Read on AO3.

First, Amy runs up to Jake and throws her arms around his neck and kisses him soundly, right in front of the entire squad and the staff and the civilians mingling all around the bullpen. She kisses him until he’s breathless and she can feel the too-fast flutter of his pulse in his neck (which could be from the kiss or the adrenaline, impossible to know).

Second, Amy pulls back and grabs his hand and drags him up, arm circling his waist when he stumbles a little. She takes him straight down the garage, to their sensible and very boring Champagne-colored sedan, and drives him to the closest emergency room.

It’s busy for a weekday afternoon. Every seat is taken, mostly by people coughing behind surgical masks or clutching barf bags and sweating in a way that makes Amy’s own stomach turn a little. A woman in a chair just behind them is pressing a bloody towel into the palm of one hand. A little boy two chairs over has an icepack pressed to his nose and blood all over his white T-shirt.

The nurse at the registration desk glances up as Amy approaches with Jake. The nurse’s eyes flit down to the NYPD logo on their matching shirts and she says, “Injured in the line of duty?”

She’s holding a pen in one hand, poised over a clipboard, and Amy knows her answer now will determine the rest of their day: If Jake was hurt on duty they get a free pass back to the ER. If she says Jake was competing in the Nine-Nine’s version of American Gladiators-

“Yes,” Amy says. “My husband was on duty. He fell.” It’s not really a lie.

The nurse hits a buzzer, and five minutes later Jake’s in a bed, plastic wristband on one arm and blood pressure cuff on the other. The adrenaline’s fully kicked in and he’s gone all pale and sweaty, his blood pressure is alarmingly high, and he can’t stop fidgeting when the nurse tries to put an oximeter clip on one finger. Amy feels a twist of guilt in her gut and chews on a thumbnail.

+++

Amy loves Jake. Full stop. No reservations, no conditions, no exceptions. She loves every part of him -- his kind and generous heart, his ridiculous curls and goofball grin, his exceptional detective brain and his remarkably robust digestive system (given his eating habits). She loves his recent addiction to corn nuts, and she loves that his new favorite beverage is boba tea from the shop around the corner from their apartment. She loves that he didn’t learn the months of the year until he was 12 and that he activates his animatronic fish at least once a week, just to make sure it’s still “alive.”

She loves that he’s going to be the father of her child. She knows he’ll be incredible -- she feels it in her heart and her bones and her blood and and her brain and all the spaces in between. 

(And she still really, really loves his butt.)

But damnit if the man isn’t absolutely infuriating sometimes.

“So, what happened here?” says the doctor, pushing aside the curtain at the foot of Jake’s bed. The doctor is very tall and her hair is pulled into a tight braid that falls halfway down her back. Amy’s glad she prepared for this moment.

“My husband fell out of a ceiling,” she says, throwing just the right amount of sheepishness into her tone. “Also, I used an EpiPen on him.”

The thing is, this is almost too easy, striking the right balance between telling the truth and fudging the embarrassing details in these situations. Amy smiles pleasantly at the doctor when she raises a questioning eyebrow.

“What is he allergic to?” the doctor says, looking between Amy and Jake.

“Bees,” Amy says, “but he wasn’t stung. I had to give him the adrenaline so he could break down a door.”

“I see,” the doctor says, though clearly she doesn’t. But she refrains from asking follow-up questions, which is all that matters. “You know that’s not really how EpiPens work.”

Amy does not tell the doctor that, in fact, the EpiPen worked exactly as they’d hoped. Instead she shrugs and says, “We didn’t have a lot of other options.”

“Well.” The doctor frowns and looks Jake up and down, and makes a note on the tablet she’s carried in with her. “Let’s take a look.”

The nurse who got him settled took off Jake’s sweatshirt, but he’s otherwise still in his tactical uniform, boots and all. Amy notices there’s a bruise blossoming along his jawline and another high up on his forehead. It’s amazing that he didn’t get any cuts or badly broken bones when he fell, but she suspects his ribs are bruised, at least. She hopes it’s nothing more serious, and she recalls one morning years ago, when he came to work the day after hurting himself so badly after chasing a perp through traffic and falling through the open sunroof of a car. He’d insisted to everyone that he was fine, when he clearly wasn’t; at the time, Amy had brushed it off as typical Jake: brash, impulsive, foolish and still weirdly endearing.

She would have said earlier today that Jake wasn’t like that anymore -- that he wouldn’t participate in the Jimmy Jabs, of all things, if he was truly injured. But after everything that he’s said and done today, she’s not sure that’s the case. And anyway, she was pushing him, telling him they couldn’t lose their ridiculous (boring) car to a ridiculous bet in a ridiculous game.

Jake hisses when the doctor bends over and prods gently at his left side. She lifts his T-shirt and Amy winces at the mottled blue and purple bruising. His shoulder is similarly bruised, and swollen, and Jake can’t reach his arm up over his head when the doctor asks. 

“I’d like to get some X-rays,” the doctor says. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts,” Jake says. He’s gritting his teeth and has wrapped an arm around his middle.

“Did you hit it in the fall?” the doctor says, taking a penlight out of her coat pocket.

“I don’t think so,” Jake says. The doctor shines the light in his eyes and Jake frowns but endures it. She asks his name, if he knows where he is and what year it is -- all the usual stuff.

“The headache is probably from the EpiPen,” the doctor says. “But we’ll keep an eye on it.”

+++

The doctor leaves and a nurse returns with a gown and offers to help Jake change. Amy says she’s got it.

“You’re a mess,” she says, quietly, as she takes off his shoes.

She helps him strip off his pants and they both pause to look over the bruised bumps on his legs. A particularly angry-looking lump the size of a baseball is forming on his right thigh, and when Amy brushes the spot with a finger the skin feels hot. Her eyes fill with tears and she blinks and looks away, tugging the pants off his feet when they get stuck.

“I’m sorry,” Jake says, so soft she hardly catches it.

Amy sighs and helps him sit up. She peels off the blood pressure cuff, and slides his T-shirt as carefully as she can over his stiff arms, up and over his head. She unfolds the gown the nurse left them and helps him pull it on, then takes a seat on the bed, at his hip.

“I’m not mad at you for getting hurt,” she says.

“I know I was being reckless-”

“Jake, last month you climbed onto an overturned wastebasket on top of a skateboard so you could hang the new curtains in our bedroom,” Amy says. “And you know what my first thought was, when I saw you up there like two seconds from falling through the window?”

“That you married a moron?” Jake says glumly.

“No -- I thought you were right, that the teal stripes match our bedspread really well,” Amy says. “Don’t get me wrong, I also wondered why you hadn’t just climbed on a chair like a normal person. But I wasn’t mad about it, and I’m not mad about this now.”

Jake looks so relieved, his face going soft and smiley, that she almost feels bad when she takes his hand in hers and adds, “But I’m still pretty pissed that you bet the car. Our car.”

+++

Amy hated Jake for the first two weeks after she started at the Nine-Nine. After everything she’d been through at the Six-Four, Jake came across as just another fucking bro-cop, with his dumb, disarming smile and flirting with witnesses and constant boasting about his detective skillz-with-a-Z. He never crossed any lines with her, but she didn’t peg him as an ally, either.

Then he’d said something, something that should have been totally ordinary but wasn’t.

A man in a suit had walked up to Jake’s desk in the middle of a quiet afternoon, just Jake and Amy and Rosa in the bullpen, and he’d said, “What’s up with all the chicks working here, dude?”

Jake, who’d been leaning far back in his chair, feet up on his desk, eating a microwave burrito for lunch, had said without pause, “Dude, they’re women, and they’re detectives. Now go away.”

They’d never found out if the man was a witness or a lawyer or there to report a crime -- he’d just stared at Jake for a moment, cheeks turned bright red, and walked right out. After that, everything sort of tilted a few degrees for Amy. Jake was still immature and boorish and flaky, but he also became someone she thought she could trust. 

In the emergency room, Jake’s palm in her hand is clammy, and when she presses her thumb into his wrist she can feel his pulse still racing from the adrenaline shot, but maybe also because she’s made him anxious.

“I know, the bet was dumb,” Jake says, but Amy can tell by the edge of exasperation in his tone that he’s thinking they’ve been through this already and he thought they were good.

“Yeah, but you know what really pissed me off?” Amy says. “Hitchcock.”

“Hitchcock? You’re mad about Hitchcock?” Jake says. “But he’s always an ass.”

Amy sighs and pulls Jake’s hand into her lap. “I know, but this time you were kind of an ass too, babe. He was so dismissive toward me, and whatever, it’s Hitchcock. But you went right along with it, and that hurt. It really sucked.”

She can feel Jake’s gaze on her face, and Amy looks up to find him wide-eyed and appalled. She debated all day whether she should say something about how that had felt, because honestly, Jake is good. She doesn’t believe he needs to be reminded that women -- and especially his own wife -- should be treated with respect. But at the same time, she thinks he’d be pissed if he knew she was annoyed and not telling him. 

It’s obvious that this particular hit has landed. He looks away from Amy and bites his lower lip, and she knows he’s feeling devastated. Literally nothing wounds Jake more than knowing he’s hurt or let down someone he cares about.

“Jake-”

“I am so sorry, Ames,” he says, eyes locked on the hand that Amy isn’t holding. “God, I’m such a jerk.”

“You’re not,” Amy says, and when Jake shakes his head, she adds, “I mean, okay, you were jerk-ish. But look, you were freaking out a little and not thinking clearly and it probably didn’t even occur to you how rude that whole conversation was.”

“That just makes it worse!” Jake says.

Amy frowns to herself, because- yeah, it kind of does. “Fine. You were a jerk.”

“And then you had to spend the whole day helping me win,” Jake says, “when you totally could’ve won the whole thing.”

“Well, obviously,” Amy says. “It should be noted that I had fun today, babe. I don’t get to goof around like that as much as I used to, and you know how much I love a competition.

“It’s just- I would have preferred to skip the Jimmy Jabs entirely and go to my seminar.”

Jake winces. “Yeah, I’m the worst.”

Amy laughs at that, because it’s so far from the truth. “Jake, I love you, so much. But you’re not perfect. You’re allowed to make mistakes, even kind of shitty ones.”

“Ames-”

“Also,” she says, talking over him, “I stabbed you with an EpiPen so you could win the world’s dumbest obstacle race. I think that makes us even.”

Which is exactly when their nurse reappears.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that,” she says, and helps Jake into a wheelchair to take him for X-rays.

+++

Nothing is broken, and Jake’s head is fine.

The doctor makes them wait around awhile anyway, and after five hours in the ER the adrenaline is finally wearing off and the pain pills are kicking in and Jake is dozing. Amy sits in a chair one of the orderlies brought in, filling out crosswords, and secretly she’s loving all of the uninterrupted downtime.

It’s long past dark by the time they’re free. Jake shuffles to the car and it’s obvious he’s still in a lot of pain despite the Norco. He grunts as he falls into the passenger seat and Amy helps him with the seatbelt when he struggles to reach across his own chest.

Amy sends him straight to bed, and while the soup is heating up she texts Terry that Jake won’t be in the next day. She thinks he’ll be okay at home alone, but wonders if she should use a sick day too. Except they really should be saving those up now.

Jake’s passed out again when she carries dinner to the bedroom. She sets the bowl of soup and the glass of orange soda on his bedside table and nudges him awake. He’s still pale and his eyes are red with exhaustion, blinking up at her slowly, and she swears more bruises have bloomed on his face in the 15 minutes since she saw him.

“I’m a mess,” Jake says, and she thinks he’s deliberately echoing her words from earlier. He sounds tired and pathetic.

She sits beside him on the bed and runs a hand through his hair, nails scratching a little against his scalp. Jake’s eyes flutter closed, and she leans forward and kisses each eyebrow, and the outer corners of his eyes, and the tip of his nose. She kisses him on the mouth. His lips are chapped and the stubble on his cheeks tickles her own smooth skin.

Amy pulls back and Jake opens his eyes, looking up at her with something like wonder.

“You are,” she says. “But you’re my mess. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

[bruciewayne]

birthday suits and booty shorts

stevetony, fluff, humour, getting together, 2k

“Oh god,” Tony groans, “Please tell me you that you weren’t wearing a fucking nylon suit in the Battle last year?”

“Um,” Steve says, intelligently, “it’s flexible?”

Tony gives him an unimpressed look, which isn’t anything particularly out of the ordinary, “So are leggings, but you’re not going to fight gods in them!”

Steve has a sudden flashback to the time Bucky yelled at him for going into the HYDRA base in costume, not armour. It hurts less than it used to.

“Only HYDRA,” Steve quips, with a smile.

Tony looks like he’s going to have an aneurysm. 

“I thought that was made up.”

“Howard told you!?”

“Called it heroic.”

“Buck called it moronic, so did Pegs.”

Tony laughs at that, “Yeah, he once mentioned it around her, and she gave me explicit instructions to never go into any sort of battle in booty shorts.”

“She always did give sound advice,” Steve says, deciding to ignore the ‘booty shorts’ comment (and if it’s because he agrees, then that’s not relevant).

Tony narrows his eyes, and Steve hasn’t known him long, but he knows him enough that he can clearly identify that as his ‘I’m thinking, shut up’ face.

“Didn’t she shoot you?”

“Four times.”

Tony looks at him incredulously, “Sounds like her, but this,” he says, waving his uniform about, “no bueno.”

-

Three days later, Tony has the suit made, reinforced kevlar, carbon nanotubes, biometric tracker, and a small ‘Captain Rogers’ on the breastbone. Of course, he only got it made this fast to get it out of the way, and not because he cared in any way whatsoever about Captain Uptight (that initial assessment may be incorrect and in need of revising, but he’ll get to that later).

Steve, predictably, is in the gym when Tony asks JARVIS of his location. Unpredictable is what he’s wearing. He’s doing Planche push-ups when Tony comes in, so all Tony can see of his godawful gear is the ‘PROPAGANDA’ scrawled over his ass, and damn, science in the 40s should get far more credit than it did.

Just before Tony goes to poke him, or kick him in his foot, Steve lowers his feet to the ground and jumps up, grinning and sweaty, “Hey.”

Tony would reply, with a normal, human comment, and/or greeting, but he’s too busy staring at his chest, and for all the wrong reasons, YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO PROPAGANDA. 

Steve notices, and the light flush from exercise deepens, “It was a gag gift. From Nat.”

“Well,” Tony says, against his better judgement, “it’s not wrong.”

-

The thing is, they are friends, pretty good ones now, at that, but Tony has an incredibly difficult time being in public with someone who wears jeans that tight.

“Aren’t your balls like, crushed?” Tony asks, as they’re walking through the park, because that’s just something they do now. 

“You’re awfully concerned with my balls,” Steve comments, taking a long lick of his ice-cream.

“I’m just saying!” Tony defends. Steve just laughs, and overly assures him that he definitely believes him. Totally.

Tony attempts to reach up to tug a leaf off a branch to throw at Steve, because, for your information, he thinks about his ass far more than his balls, but, even on his tiptoes he can’t reach it, and he’s not about to make a fool of himself jumping to reach a branch. 

Steve laughs even more, and even Tony’s man enough to admit that he lost all of his dignity in the 90s, so jumping to get a leaf to throw at his no good, very bad friend is barely news. So he does. And, predictably, he falls. 

And less predictably, just as he readies himself for mud-covered Armani (because, whilst Steve is young enough to dress like a fuckboy, Tony, unfortunately, is a rich businessman who has to look the part (not that he’d particularly want to have to spray-paint on his jeans every morning (not that he’s allowed to wear jeans to board meeting, because, ‘Tony, you’re  older now, and they expect something from you’)), and he cannot, and just as he should hit the ground, Steve’s around him, arms bracing him, strong and sure.

Steve’s lips quirk up into a smile, boyish and joyful, and the sun shining down from above highlights his hair in a way that makes Tony think, not for the first time, that Steve’s been sent down from heaven, for god knows what reason, because there’s no logical way that someone that good, someone so unpolluted in the face of all he’s had to fear, comes from humanity and-- oh fuck.

“I’m surprised you can bend like that in those jeans,” Tony says, too softly to pretend that’s all that’s running through his mind.

“I’m Superman,” Steve says, cheekily, rightening them both, and maybe it’s just Tony’s imagination, but he seems to linger longer than should be necessary. But he moves away, and the moment is broken, less like shattering glass and more like chalk falling barely a foot, broken beyond repair, but not the end of the world, which, in their careers, is a damn good place to be.

-

Tony takes it all back. 

“You’ve never followed an instruction in your life, one day that might just end it,” Steve growls, still in uniform, because they saved New York again, and they’re fighting about god knows what, because god knows why.

“Don’t pretend to be concerned about my life when all you really care about is controlling the team, your perfect little soldiers,” Tony hisses.

Steve glowers even more. “Stop twisting my words.”

“Stop making bullshit calls,” Tony counters.

“It’s not bullshit and you know it.”

He’s not even loud, or explosive, like Tony, then, he’s quiet, still, unbelievably angry, but calm. And something about that lights a fire inside Tony, unstable and destructive.

“They never should have pulled you from the ice if all you’re good for is pure bullshit!”

For one, rage-coloured, gleeful, glorious moment, Tony revels in where he’s clearly managed to get a hit on him: his face lights with anger, the calm from earlier rapidly fades away, practically melting off his face.

And then his face, his body, his entire demeanour drop heavily, a slave to gravity, like the common man, like a puppet torn from its strings. The guilt floods into Tony’s system milliseconds before Steve turns on his heel and walks out without another word.

Tony realises, after he’s put himself in blackout mode, that the fight hadn’t changed a thing about the other day - Steve was always going to be ridiculously infuriatingly stubborn, hell, that’s why he’s so impossibly infatuated with him, he never gives up, never runs away, never stops, and for him to not fight Tony… he’s fucked up. Bad. 

“Sir, if I may, an apology may be due,” and isn’t that sad, his AI had to listen to him rant aloud and then urge him to show basic human decency and at least attempt to preserve a relationship (one that’s somehow, sometime, become to absurdly important to Tony, the more he thinks of it, the more he wants to deck his old self in the nose (and if he ever did make a time machine, he knows that the punch he’d throw would be perfect form, thanks to Steve’s tutelage)).

“Yeah. Yeah,” Tony says heavily. 

Unsurprisingly, JARVIS directs Tony toward the gym, where Steve’s beating apart a punching bag. He’s taken off the top part of his uniform and left it hanging around his waist, undershirt soaked through with sweat, hiding the aggregate sum of none of the strength contained in his muscles.

Even stripped down like this, the suit dirty and torn, no shield, no cowl in sight there’s no denying his raw power.

“Hey,” Tony starts, “what I said was uncalled for.”

Steve only stills his barrage when Tony began to speak, even though he must have heard him come in, but he doesn’t turn around.

“I… I’m not unaware of my flaws, Tony,” Steve says quietly, still not facing him, “nor do I believe that you’re needlessly reckless with your life.”

Tony takes a minute to process that. The air is still between them, rebuilding after the storm. They’ve gotten delightfully efficient at rebuilding, and with better adapted infrastructure, it doesn’t take long, but it still destroys something, still hurts a little.

“I’m glad that you were found,” Tony replies, this is the closest they’ve come to saying the forbidden ‘sorry’ aloud, and even though Steve’s the one to be facing away now, Tony knows that, had Steve been looking at him, whichever expression, he would be the one to turn away.

Small steps.

Steve nods, a sharp, short downward jerk of his head, and Tony takes that as his signal to leave, feeling lighter all for it. Maybe his earlier assessment of Steve has been right. 

-

“I want you to know,” Tony starts, just as they’re about to initiate what’s definitely going to be the most violent game of 6 people water polo that’s ever conspired, “that this is one, an awful idea, and two, going to flood this entire floor.”

“You can sit out, if you really want to,” Steve suggests, partly out of care, partly because it would disadvantage their team.

Tony laugh aloud at that, “Absolutely not, you know I’d never pass up an opportunity to beat your ass, Rogers.”

“I thought you weren’t immune to it,” Steve says, grinning back.

Thor looks supremely confused, “Your humans’ trash talk is not dissimilar to Asgardians’ courting.”

“It’s not human’s trash talk,” Natasha says, tossing the ball between her hands, “it’s just Steve and Tony trash talk.”

Both of them, in displays of the utmost maturity, splash her with water.

JARVIS takes that as a cue to start the game timer, and it’s just as aggressive and chaotic as Tony thought - what else would you get from pitting four of the most capable humans in Northern America against a god and a guy who pretty much qualifies?

It’s water and it’s violent, two things which, historically, hadn’t been the greatest of situations for Tony, but there’s no point during this where he feels unsafe, or out of control (quite possibly losing, definitely).

He’s not nearly as ashamed as he should be to admit that he spent most of the time wrestling Steve.

He was fine during the beginning - when Steve’s waist was below the surface, and he was too busy staring at his face and chest, but after he’d jumped high enough that his feet were out the water, and he’d exposed those illegally tight speedos…

It made no sense whatsoever, all of them, bar Nat, were wearing regular, normal, socially acceptable, swimwear that didn’t expose just how big their dicks were, and he knows with relative certainty that they didn’t have speedos in the 40s, so where he got them fr-- Natasha.

-

“We only lost,” Tony says, panting, “because your speedos were a distraction.” Everyone else had gone to the showers, reluctantly congratulating Steve and Thor, and deciding on a rematch, leaving Steve and Tony in the pool, treading water in the shallower end.

“Would you rather I take them off?”

Tony looks at him, expecting at least that adorable light flush on his cheeks, but all he gets is a grin see-sawing the line between cheeky and joking and a proposition.

“I’d hate to miss out on you finally finding your true style,” Tony replies, matching him in tone.

Steve’s laugh echoes off the tiles, and Tony just has to kiss him, he just has to crash into him with absolutely no abandon, feeling reminiscent of his teen years, kissing in a pool, tugging off Steve’s ridiculous shorts.

Through half-lidded eyes, Steve tracks him up and down once he’d ripped off Tony’s swim shorts, breathing hard, “You should never wear clothes again,” he declares, sinking to his knees. Any and all thoughts of Steve and his questionable-at-times fashion choices leave Tony’s mind along with most forms of higher function.

-

masterpost 

[imbeccablee]

Old Wounds

Author’s Notes: me? writing half a fic on the day it’s due? it’s more likely than you think.

LMAO anyway I hope you enjoy it! I’m quite proud of it, even if it’s a little rushed.

archive link will be in the reblog

TW: panic attacks, references to past abuse

Summary: You learn things when you grow up like Izuku did.

Izuocha Week 2020: Injury/Recovery

You learn things when you grow up like Izuku did.

Stuff like how to disappear into a crowd, or how to predict the immediate future based on someone’s tone of voice, or how to cry so silently nobody can hear and find you, hidden in the janitor’s closet or wrapped tightly in your blanket.

You know.

Fun things.

While other kids were learning their friends’ favorite foods and hobbies, Izuku learned how to hide. While other kids were learning boundaries and communication between peers, Izuku learned that simply being present and participating was crossing the line. While other kids learned how to love themselves, Izuku learned he didn’t deserve to be loved.

That last one might be a little harsh, a little hyperbolic, but when you’re alone for so long with only your regretful mother to say she cares, that kind of thinking tends to be the norm.

To put a long story short, Izuku had a very, very lonely childhood.

And then Izuku went to U.A.

It was… an adjustment, to say the least. His classmates were so kind and his teachers were tough, but fair. His peers wanted to be his friend, they thought he was cool, heroic, even. There were no sneers, no cruelty, no hatred. As far as they were all concerned, Izuku belonged there. And it felt good, wonderful even. And that feeling lasted for a long time, held strong in the face of villain attacks and grueling schoolwork alike. Izuku felt more alive than he had in years and he believed nothing could ever bring him down to that low, horrible point he’d been not four months ago.

And, well… He was wrong.

---

It’s stupid, he knows this. He knows his friends, knows Uraraka, and they don’t mean anything by it. They’re laughing at her exasperation, because he exasperated them, and it’s supposed to be funny, it is funny, but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s, well… dying. 

Not literally, of course, because that’s also stupid; he’s fine and just hanging out with his friends, and they’re just joking around, of course he’s not in danger. But there’s a tightness to his chest, a stiffness to his posture, and he can see flashes of a classroom behind his eyes. It’s nondescript and boring, and it’s filled with students in black, gray, and white, teenagers not too much younger than Izuku’s classmates now, and it clashes so terribly with the warm atmosphere of the lounge.

Izuku’s breath quickens as his throat closes and as the seconds (or minutes? Hours?) pass, it gets harder and harder to differentiate the two images until they all but align with one another.

The students in the dreary, old building stand above him now, towering over him as he cowers on the cold, hard linoleum, trying desperately to understand why they’re laughing, why they find it so funny that he has a dream, why it’s so hard to believe he could do it. Why is it so hard for them to just let him be, he just wants to be a hero, just like them, why do they care so much, why did they hurt him, he’s done nothing wrong, it wasn’t his fault! 

But they keep chanting and chanting that horrible, horrible name at him, burning it into his skin, marking him with a scarlet letter, until it’s the only thing he can think.

Deku, deku, deku, deku, deku, dekudekudekudekudekudekudekud—!

“—eku! Deku!”

Izuku snaps back into himself suddenly, gasping for air and vision blurring. He feels strangely cramped and uncomfortable, and as he slowly focuses, he realizes it’s because he’s curled into a tight ball on the couch.

Slowly, breathlessly, he pulls his arms from around his head and lowers his feet back to the floor, and he sees his new classmates, his beloved friends standing before him, worried. They’re so tall compared to him this way, leaning over him and taking up his entire field of vision, and again he sees images of events long since passed flicker through his mind. He pushes those thoughts away because the people before him now aren’t like that, they’re kind and good, they would never hurt him like that, so why—?

Izuku realizes Uraraka is talking to him still, and forces himself to focus on her words. “—eally scaring us, are you okay?”

Izuku blinks and feels something leave his eye. He doesn’t need to touch it to know it’s another tear.

It’s stupid. The whole thing is so stupid. It was just a stupid joke, a light barb just meant to tease, why’d he have to ruin it by freaking out so badly? There’s no reason to react like that, falling so far they had to call for him. They wouldn’t ever hurt him like that, certainly not Uraraka, he had absolutely no reason to go and worry them like this. He’s pathetic. Pathetic.

Patheticpatheticpatheticpathetic—

“Midoriya?” It’s Iida now, calling for him, snapping him out of his thoughts, and Izuku feels a sharp frustration run through him.

“I’m fine,” he says automatically and shoots to his feet. His friends stumble backward, surprised by his sudden movement, and Izuku wants to beat himself bloody. “I’m just a little tired, I’m gonna check in now, see you all tomorrow, goodnight.” His mouth runs on autopilot, listing the normal farewells like a robot. His eyes are locked on the elevator as he speedwalks toward it and no one stops him. He doesn’t turn back even as he enters and slams the button for the second floor too hard. 

When the doors close, he allows himself to break.

---

Ochako and the others (Iida, Todoroki, and Tsuyu) watch as Deku disappears behind the elevator doors, stunned and worried. 

Her mind rapidly plays through the past couple of minutes, trying to figure out what exactly had caused Deku to freak out so much, but nothing that’d happened could have been that bad, could it? The five of them had just been joking around, enjoying each other’s company. They began reminiscing. Ochako teased Deku about his recklessness, or something, though maybe it had been about his hero obsession or his tendency to get into trouble; the specifics of it seems to have left her, probably swept away in the midst of all the action. 

It doesn’t really matter what specifically had happened though. All that mattered is that it hurt Deku. 

That’s probably what’s throwing Ochako so much. The fact that it had been her words that had cut so deeply somehow, that it’s her fault he felt he needed to flee. He had looked so scared as they stood above him, but it wasn’t any fear she had ever seen on him before. It wasn’t like the horror at seeing villains infiltrating their school, or the terror of being face to face with a man who could tear you apart with a single touch. It isn’t even the fear itself that sits so wrong with her. It’s the resignation that was in his eyes, as if he was expecting something from them and had accepted he couldn’t stop them. That fear was learned and… he was used to it.

She had caused that. She made him feel so afraid.

“I do wish he would talk to us,” Iida says suddenly, and when Ochako turns to him, she sees he has a far off look in his eye, like he’s stuck in a memory.

It ends quickly, however, and he comes back into himself with a small shake. Upon seeing them all staring at him, waiting for him to elaborate, his cheeks go a bit pink. “Ah, I just mean… Midoriya always seems a bit preoccupied these days. The first few times I noticed it, I made sure to remind him that he could talk to me—or any of us, really—if he needed it, but he would always just smile, thank me, and change the subject.” He sighs. “It never became any better, but I feared if I kept telling him the same thing over and over, he would get defensive or offended or…” Iida shakes his head, seemingly at a loss.

Todoroki nods. “Yeah, that sounds like Midoriya.” He gives a sigh of his own. “For someone so keen on sticking his nose in other people’s business, he’s incredibly dodgy about his own issues.”

Ochako is struck, then, by a thought that always seems to emerge whenever Deku’s involved. Who protects a hero when they need protecting?

Iida isn’t the only one who’s noticed how often Deku gets lost in his head. Honestly, she’d be surprised if anyone in their little friend group missed it whenever Deku got quiet and far away. He’s not really subtle about it, but he’s really good at flipping the subject or brushing off concern. So good, in fact, it kind of worries Ochako, if she’s honest.

She hadn’t ever tried to confront him about it, though. Honestly, she’s been kind of avoiding him over the last few weeks. Sometimes her heart just gets too loud and she can’t concentrate on anything other than him, and she can’t stand it. She was never in the right mind to talk about heavy things, so admittedly she hoped one of their other mutual friends had gotten him to open up about whatever was bothering him, but… 

It seems none of them were successful.

“I wish we could help him,” Ochako says, eyes now glued on the closed elevator doors, like they’ll suddenly part and Deku will emerge, spilling his heart out for them to hear and help. They stay decidedly shut.

“Well, there’s only so much we can do if he doesn’t want to tell us, kero,” Tsuyu reasons and Todoroki nods. 

“It’s not as if we can fight it out of him,” he comments, before a contemplative look crosses his face. “... Could we?”

“Of course not!” Iida immediately shuts down as Ochako and Tsuyu breathe out a halfhearted laugh. “That is not proper conduct on how to approach delicate subjects!”

“It worked for the two of us,” Todoroki shoots back. As Iida sputters about how that’s not quite the same thing, Ochako allows herself to laugh fully, if only to distract herself from the worry gnawing at her heart. Silently, she thanks Todoroki for breaking the oppressive atmosphere that’s fallen over them.

“I-In any case,” Iida moves on after nearly a full minute of stammering insistences that they couldn’t beat Deku better like he had admittedly done to them. “Any attempt to help Midoriya with his problems will have to wait until tomorrow. It is getting late and though I had allowed it before in the name of jovial banter and much-needed relaxation, I cannot in good conscious let us stay up any longer than we already have. We should retire so that we have ample energy for tomorrow’s classes.”

The other three of them give hums of agreement and the girls part from the boys.

On the elevator to the girl’s side of the dorm, Ochako must still look worried, because Tsuyu places a hand on her shoulder and says, “Don’t worry, Ochako. Midoriya will be fine. We’ll all make sure of it.”

She knows this; really, she does. But it doesn’t really stop the ache in her chest nor does it stop the image of Deku looking so, so afraid of her from burning into her mind’s eye.

Still, she smiles and thanks Tsuyu. It’s all she can really do.

---

Ochako can’t sleep.

She lies there, face up, staring at the ceiling with tired eyes and a racing mind. Try as she might, she can’t force herself to ignore the worry and concern that bites and tears at her heart. The scene from before keeps playing over and over in her mind, and she can’t help but try and figure it out. What exactly was it that she said that caused Deku so much distress? Is it something she knew about before and forgot was a trigger for him? Is it something he had never told her because he didn’t think it would be a problem? Or because he didn’t trust her with it? Is it something new, even to him?

You know, now that she thinks about it, for all she calls Deku her best friend, she actually knows very little about his life before U.A. She doesn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he and Bakugou went to the same middle school and, as such, have a sort of history together. For the life of her, she can’t recall any details outside of the ones she’s learned over the past few months: wants to be a hero, analyses heroes as a hobby, has an unusually high pain tolerance, has a concerning lack of self-preservation, used to be really skittish and tense at the beginning of the year… 

Ochako blinks and considers the last three points. The pain tolerance could easily be explained away by his destructive quirk, but the other two… She thinks about Deku, curled so tightly into a ball as to take up as little space as possible. She thinks about the combined fear and resignation in his eyes as his friends stood over him, as if he was waiting for something that never came. She thinks about how he cried and babbled about how “it wasn’t his fault”, how he’s “done nothing wrong.”

She remembers how he used to jump at every touch and sudden movement. She remembers him telling her how “deku” was an insult. She remembers the excitement that shown in his eyes when she first called him her friend, how quickly he had started crying, how he had brushed her concern off by saying he was “just so happy.”

And, well… she thinks she might cry.

She doesn’t know what Deku’s life was like before U.A., not really. But she can make a good fucking guess.

Before Ochako knows it, she’s out of her dorm and halfway to the elevator. She can feel a boiling rage rush through her veins even as she berates herself again and again for not noticing, not realizing, and for being so incredibly careless with her words. They had all just been joking around, but that’s not an excuse. She had dearly hurt her best friend without even knowing how and Ochako will not let another minute go by without Deku knowing how sorry she is.

She tries to form some sort of script as she makes her way to the boy’s side of the dorm, sneaking through the dark lounge area and taking the stairs to avoid the loud elevator, but through her conflicting feelings, she can barely get passed the phrase “I’m so sorry, Deku” before she’s in front of his door.

Ochako stares at it, lips pursed and veins thrumming, trying to dredge up something more than a halfhearted apology. He deserves more than that, especially from her.

Fed up with her stalling, she lifts her fist and quietly raps twice on Deku’s door, resolving to just… wing it.

She waits for a full minute, ears straining for any sound indicating movement, before she deflates. He’s probably asleep. It has to be past midnight by now, there’s no reason why he would still be awake. Ochako’s had her fair share of panic attacks before and they are quite exhausting.

Still, she came up here to talk. She won’t be able to sleep if she doesn’t get her feelings out. Even if she’s only speaking to a door.

“Hey, Deku,” she whispers, leaning her side into the door. She crosses her arms and tries to feel less small. “I… I know you’re probably asleep, so I won’t talk long, I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about it, you know?” The side of her head gently thumps against the door. “You looked so scared and small, but it wasn’t anything I’d ever seen on you before. It… Honestly, it didn’t really belong on your face. The Deku I know is brave and steadfast and so incredibly kind, that kinda fear had no right to be on you.” 

Ochako breathes in slowly and softly sighs it out. Her fingers clench on her arms and her words start to waver. “And… And it’s not just that either, I couldn’t… I couldn’t believe I had made you feel that. That something I said so flippantly had struck you so deeply, I just—” Ochako shakes her head despite it still being pressed into the wood. She sniffles and tries to steady her voice. “I’m so, so sorry. I never want you to look at me like that again. I’m supposed to be your friend, but I—I hurt you. I made you remember something awful and that’s—that’s not what a friend does. Friends make you feel safe. Friends make you feel loved. Just—I’m so, so sorry, Deku. I… hope you can forgive me.”

Ochako hears shifting from somewhere in his dorm and she holds her breath. But no one comes to the door.

She lets out a little breath, sagging. She takes a step away from his dorm, arms shifting to wrap around herself in a hug. “Right,” she says wetly. “Well, I’ll say all this to you again tomorrow. Hopefully I won’t cry. I know you’ll just feel bad for me then.” She laughs a little, but the sound falls flat. 

She takes one, two steps away, and is nearly fully turned toward the stairwell when she hears a door open.

She turns back to face it and sees Deku’s door is slowly swinging open, its new hinges nearly silent as it does. Deku doesn’t appear in the doorway, but the invitation is clear.

Apparently, he had been awake.

Ochako steadies herself, nodding and murmuring “right” under her breath before she slowly makes her way into Deku’s dorm, closing the door behind her.

Deku’s balcony door is open and he is leaning over the side, arms propped on the railing and gaze skyward. Ochako swallows and makes her way over to him, sidling up on his side with an appropriate amount of space between them. 

For a long time, neither of them spoke. They only stare up at the night sky together, watching as the moon slowly makes its way across it. Ochako’s already said her piece, all that’s left is for Deku to respond.

Ochako doesn’t know how long they stand together, but it’s enough that she starts to feel the chill of the night seep into her pajamas. Just as another shiver crawls up her spine, Deku whispers, “Thank you for apologizing.”

She blinks and turns to face him. He has a soft look on his face, off put by the red rimming his eyes and the tear stains on his face. He looks exhausted, but he has a tiny smile on his face as he gazes upward, looking gently happy and relieved. Ochako’s heart stutters in her chest.

“Of—Of course,” she stammers. “We were all going to apologize tomorrow, I just kinda jumped the gun.”

Deku nods. “Still, it means a lot. And,” he continues, turning to face the brilliance of that beautiful smile in her direction. Her heart lodges in her throat. “I forgive you.”

“R-Really?” she chokes out, not really knowing why she’s surprised. This is Deku she’s talking about here. He was probably going to forgive her regardless of when or how she apologized. She doesn’t quite know how to feel about that, if she’s honest.

Deku nods, casting his eyes downward now, at his hands still suspended over the edge of the railing. “It wasn’t really your fault to begin with,” he says. “The whole thing is… kinda stupid, if I’m honest. I don’t know why I reacted like that, I’ve never had such a problem with teasing before.” He shakes his head. “I dunno.”

“It’s not stupid, Deku,” she protests. “Like I said before, you looked so afraid of us. Of me. I should have never said anything to make you think we were going to hurt you in any way.”

“I guess,” he concedes, but he still doesn’t look convinced. “I just—can’t help but feel like I ruined the whole evening, you know?” He laughs mirthlessly, his hands now clutched together tightly, and she wants to reassure him that he didn’t, but he’s already continuing, “Like, we were having fun, laughing and teasing each other, exchanging stories, and for some reason I flashed back to—t-to a place I put behind me. Honestly, I hardly thought about the place until today, it doesn’t—well, I thought it didn’t bother me anymore.”

“... Do you… want to talk about it?” Ochako asks.

“Not really.” His reply is so quick and unexpected Ochako flinches back. Noticing this, Deku quickly soothes, “Ah, I mean… it’s just a lot… and it’s already so late, so…“

“It’s fine, Deku,” Ochako says, waving a hand placatingly. “Really. I’m not going to make you talk about anything you don’t want to. But…” She hesitates, but gently sets her hand on his arm. “You can talk to me. Or any of us. I-I know Iida has already told you this and all, but really, Deku, you can.” He purses his lips, so she continues, “You’re our friend, and we want you to be okay. We want you to feel safe around us and be happy. None of us think you’re a burden. Okay?”

Deku’s eyes go a bit misty and his voice wavers as he says, “It’s just… it’s so hard sometimes… I-I’ve wanted to before, but my head, it just… suffocates me until I decide it’s not worth it.”

Ochako nods sympathetically. “Yeah, that… trust me when I say I understand. But it won’t ever get better if you don’t talk about it, you know? Regardless of what it is. And I dunno about the others, but I know I’ll drop everything the second any one of you needs help. Whether it’s homework or to vent or because you just need a shoulder to cry on.” Ochako smiles. “I’ll always be there for you. Okay?”

Deku sniffs and nods quickly. “Okay.”

Tension drips off of Ochako’s shoulders and she barely holds in a sigh of relief. “Okay… good.”

Deku gives her a lopsided smile and, after a moment of quiet between them, his cheeks turn a bit pink. “Um, Uraraka, c-can I… hug you?”

Despite the sudden screaming in her head, Ochako’s smile widens and she says, “Sure.”

His arms leave the railing and quiver in the air between them, and after a few seconds, she realizes that’s about as far as he can make himself go. Ochako breathes out a quiet laugh and steps into them, finishing the hug for him. He tenses as their torsos meet and her arms wrap around him, but after a moment, he lets out a shaky breath and tightly reciprocates. She can feel him shaking as she holds him, his cheek pressed tightly against the top of her head, and when she starts to feel something dripping into her hair, she pulls him closer, arms wrapping even tighter around him. She hopes he understands her silent message: I’m not going anywhere.

Eventually, they do pull away, once their exhaustion becomes too much to ignore. They share a sleepy smile with one another and Deku walks Ochako to his door. She opens it and is halfway out of it before she turns back to him and says, “Talk to you tomorrow?”

He chuckles, rubbing at his eye. “I think it’s already tomorrow.”

With a roll of her eyes, she corrects, “Then tonight.”

Deku smiles again, toothy and happy. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Ochako yawns, covering her mouth with her hand, and begins to walk out again as she says, “I love you, Deku.”

“Love you too, Ura…” They both freeze, exhaustion momentarily forgotten as dread fills the both of them to the brim.

Ochako whips around in a blur. “Pl-Platonically!! As friends!”

“Yep that’s exactly the same as me, just friends, nothing more!!” Deku nearly shouts in agreement, face as red as Ochako’s feels.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, eyes wide with similar expressions of mortification, before the ridiculousness sets it. Ochako’s mouth wavers before she snorts and lets herself laugh out loud, ignoring the wild thumping of her heart.

Deku looks so confused for a few breathless seconds, but he must catch on to the hilarity soon, because eventually he starts laughing along with her. Embarrassed, emotional, and just a little bit delirious, the two quickly become out of breath, wiping tears from their eyes and heaving in huge gulps of air.

“W-Well,” Ochako breathily giggles, feeling happy and light. “Good night, Deku.”

“Y-You too, Uraraka,” Deku responds, looking so incredibly beautiful with his huge smile, red face, and delighted red-rimmed eyes. Ochako takes a second to memorize it, wanting this perfect image of him to be burned into her mind forever, before she turns and makes her way down the hall, occasionally, turning to give a little wave goodbye to him, something he returns as he watches her go.

Ochako collapses into her bed soon after, feeling giddy and exhausted and so incredibly happy to be Deku’s friend. She falls asleep to the memory of strong, warm arms around her and the sound of tearful, relieved laughter ringing in her ears.

---

A few hours later, Ochako wakes feeling the exact opposite. She’s groggy and brittle and she knows she has to get up to tell the others that everything’s fine now, but she does not want to.

Eventually, she does, still with enough time to beat the rest of the class downstairs, with the exception of Iida, Todoroki, and Tsuyu. As she gets ready and makes her way down, she remembers her conversation with Deku, how relieved she had felt and he had seemed, and it’s enough to round her edges out, if only a little bit.

“Good morning, Uraraka!” Iida loudly greets, and Ochako decides that Deku’s happiness and laughter can only do so much. “You’re just in time for us to begin planning how to help Midoriya!”

“You look terrible,” Todoroki comments, to which Ochako gives him a withering glare.

“Did you sleep okay, kero?” Tsuyu asks and Ochako sighs.

“No, but that’s my own fault,” she grumbles and rubs at her eyes. “But that’s besides the point. We don’t need to do any planning, Deku is—”

“Hey, guys…” Speak of the devil.

The four of them turn towards the man in question as he approaches them, looking just as tired as Ochako but sculpting it very differently. He looks much less irritable than she with his smooth expression and small smile, one that is not too dissimilar to the one he gave Ochako last night after her apology. There’s a nervous energy about him as well, though Ochako supposes that’s fair; the last time the others saw him, he was frantic, crying, and afraid.

“M-Midoriya, how are you?” Iida quickly recovers, seemingly surprised that Deku had come to them.

“Better,” he says. He glances at Ochako before returning his gaze to the other three. “Uraraka talked to me last night, and apologized already. You guys don’t have to, I already forgive you. It was… well, not stupid, but I didn’t even know I would react like that, so I can’t exactly blame you guys for saying those things. And, um… “ He fidgets where he stands, eye contact faltering. “If you want to, um… can we talk? Sometime tonight?”

Ochako is taken off guard, and by the looks on the others faces, they are too. They all share a look, before Tsuyu asks, “Are you sure?”

“We don’t want to force you,” Todoroki adds on.

Deku nods resolutely. “Yes, I’m… I’m sure. I really, really want to talk with you guys.”

“Well,” Iida starts, misty-eyed. “We’ll be sure to listen.”

Deku gives them all another wonderful smile, looking relieved and so very happy.

The conversation soon moves on to today’s classes and what they all might do during their Heroics class, but Ochako isn’t really listening. She’s watching as Deku falls easily back into the conversation, comfortable and safe. She thinks about that fear she’d seen on him yesterday and how not one trace of it is left in his face, and she lets herself relax. 

Deku seems to realize she’s looking at him and he meets her gaze. He smiles brilliantly at her and her breath is stolen away like always. Normally, she would feel some sort of frustration at herself for that, but now, she relishes it. Her very dear friend is smiling at her with no reservations and with such contagious elation, what else can she do but reciprocate?

---

When you grow up like Izuku did, you learn things.

They’re not fun things, quite the opposite really, but along with those harsh lessons, Izuku learned how to treasure the truly good moments. And maybe one day, the cruel teachings of his childhood will give way to newer lessons, the ones he should’ve been able to learn before.

Izuku doesn’t know.

But what he does know is that standing in the lounge area, surrounded by his close and dear friends, Izuku has never felt more safe.

[citrinekay]

a prompt!!: (established relationship) they're out on consult in the middle of bill's divorce. he's angry and lashes out at holden even though it's not his fault, holden's like 'i'm ging for a swim'. he comes back and they make up! hope this makes sense :)

Thank God it’s the weekend! I missed my babies. Thanks for the prompt 💕

The shimmering whorls and loops of the Galveston Pleasure Pier is a distant outline against the fading sunlight beyond the window of their hotel room. Five stories below, the fenced-in pool offers a cool escape from the summer time heat and the crushing gravity of stress. If they hadn’t been here on consult, Holden might have found this island retreat butting up against the cerulean stretch of the Gulf of Mexico relaxing, and he imagines most of the people staying in this hotel with them are enjoying their vacation. Maybe they know about the string of murders, dead bodies on sandy beaches, and missing posters, and maybe they don’t; some of them probably don’t care because it doesn’t affect them. 

It’s affecting Holden. The case, and every other outside force that had already been bearing down on them before they arrived in Texas. 

Stripping out of his suit, Holden changes into swim trunk and a t-shirt. He grabs both his room key from the desk, and slips out into the hallway. 

Bill’s room is only three doors down from Holden’s, making for a short trip. When he reaches the door, the sound of Bill’s voice reaching past the walls makes him stop with his hand around the knob. He can only make out bits and pieces of what sounds like a telephone conversation, but he instantly recognizes the strain and frustration spiking in Bill’s tone. 

Stomach sinking, Holden rests his forehead against the door. Some days, he wonders if he’d been incredibly reckless and irresponsible to strike up a relationship with his partner directly after returning from Atlanta, a case which had worn both of them thin, and just as Bill was beginning the process of divorcing his wife. The separation, despite being mutually anticipated, is complicated by Brian’s situation with the courts and CPS. He’d chosen perhaps the worst time to let his feelings for Bill run free, but Bill hadn’t stopped to consider the consequences either. 

When Bill’s agitated tone comes to a stop, Holden knocks softly on the door.

The knob turns and the door swings open. Bill stands on the other side of the threshold with a frustrated frown pinching his brow and his jaw clenched. His eyes soften when he sees Holden, but the tension in his shoulders lingers. 

“Hi.” Holden says, “I was going down to the pool. I thought you might want to join me.”

“I don’t know. I’m beat.” 

Holden nods, slowly. 

Their gazes hold, a quiet exchange traversing underneath the banal conversation. Holden leans against the doorjamb, one foot creeping across the carpet into Bill’s room. 

Bill leaves the door open, and turns to walk back into the room. 

Slipping inside, Holden pushes the door shut behind him. He watches Bill’s stiff movements as he lights a cigarette, and sits down on the bed with a weary sigh. The case files are open on the bedspread beside him. He bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Bill says, leaning over to tap ashes into the tray on the nightstand. “You know. Same shit, different day.”

“Was that Nancy?” 

Bill’s gaze cuts up to meet Holden’s. His eyes are tired, stress wearing nerves thin, leaving him reactionary and frayed. The ripple of tension in his jawline casts resistance across the space between them, igniting hesitation in Holden’s chest. He thinks of adding, “We don’t have to talk about it.” But, Bill clears his throat. 

“Yeah.” He says, shifting back against the pillows with a dour nod. “The custody hearing got pushed because I’m out of town.”

Holden licks his lips anxiously as he wanders closer to the bed. “She was mad?”

“The courts move slow enough as it is. I’m making it harder than it needs to be.” Bill says, waving sloppy quotation marks. 

“You want this to be over just as much as she does.” 

“You think I haven’t told her that?” Bill asks, scoffing in the back of his throat. “I can’t make her understand my job.”

Holden sits down on the edge of the bed, and tentatively puts a hand on Bill’s thigh. Peeking up at Bill, he quietly watches the frustration sift across Bill’s profile, exhaling steadily inside the cloud of smoke seeping past his lips. 

“Ah, fuck. I don’t know what it matters anyway.” Bill mutters, absently dropping his hand over Holden’s knuckles. “The judge is going to rule in her favor.”

“You’re not going to fight it, are you?”

“He’s my kid, too. Part of me feels like I should.”

“But, doesn’t this situation right now prove that she’s right? You’re out of town so much-”

Bill’s hand pulls away, and his gaze swings from the window to grip Holden’s with flaring anger. “Whose fucking side are you on?”

“Yours, of course.” 

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

“I’m just trying to think of it from a logical perspective, and-”

“I didn’t ask you to come over here and try to logically fix my divorce, okay?” Bill says, swinging his legs off the bed, and climbing to his feet. 

Holden presses his mouth shut as a wounded flinch expands in his chest. 

“There’s no fucking logic to it.” Bill continues, his hand jabbing angrily at empty air. “The whole situation is fucked up.”

“I … I’m sorry.” Holden whispers again, his cheeks growing warm. “I was just thinking of what’s best for Brian.”

“Oh, so now you know what’s best for my kid before I do?”

“No, I- I just … I’m wondering if anyone has asked what he wants in all of this.”

Bill’s nostrils flare as he crushes his cigarette purposefully in the ashtray. 

“Look,” He says, his voice dropping to a strained, flat tone. “None of this would be happening if those kids hadn’t murdered a fucking child - if Brian hadn’t stood there and watched it happen, and did nothing about it. He’s eight years old, Holden, and apparently, he doesn’t know right from wrong - and now, because of that, we’ve got Child Protective Services rooting through our life, and a therapist dissecting his every thought and action. Because of him, this divorce is going to take two times longer than it should have - so, no, he doesn’t get a fucking say in what happens. And neither do you.”

Holden glances away from Bill’s cutting glare, trying to suppress the burn of pain in his chest. Swallowing back the sting in the back of his throat, he stiffly rises from the edge of the bed. 

“I’m going out to the pool. I’m sorry for putting my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Bill’s hardened expression cracks with a sigh as Holden brushes past him, but he doesn’t turn around or try to stop Holden from leaving. He stands still, his fingers braced against the bridge of his nose as Holden marches across the room and out into the hallway.

As he rides the elevator down to ground level, Holden tries to smother the flinching pain in his chest. It’s understandable that Bill is upset. They spent all day talking to family and friends of the latest victim, an emotionally harrowing task by any seasoned detective’s standards, and then he had to come back to the hotel to argue with Nancy about hearings and their child’s precarious future instead of trying to unwind from the long, stressful day. Holden shouldn’t have intruded. He shouldn’t have offered his advice, or even his opinion. As Bill had so succinctly pointed out, it’s none of his business.

He’s still kicking himself when he pushes past the door toward the pool enclosure, and the muggy heat hits him in the face. Drenched, yellow sunlight washes across the pool, reflecting blinding rays across the water that offers a buoyant escape from his thoughts.. A young family of four splashes joyously in the shallow end, creating ripples that travel all the way over to the deep end where Holden has the section of the pool all to himself. Stripping out of his t-shirt, he draws in a deep breath, and dives in. 

The shock of the cold water immediately quashes the sweaty layer of heat gathering on his skin. Channeling the bursting hum of frustrated energy into his strokes, he swims cleanly, rapidly across to the other side. When he reaches the opposite wall, he rises up to get a breath of air for only a moment before pushing off into the next lap. 

As his body cuts through the water, he focuses on controlling his breathing and the rhythm of his arms and legs propelling his momentum. He lets the fire in his chest burn, lets it fuel him. After ten laps, he clings to the edge of the pool with gasping lungs and wet cheeks, but he isn’t crying. The adrenaline-laced shudder in his limbs feels good, and it masks the lingering frustration simmering in his chest. 

After less than three minutes of rest, he launches away from the wall again. 

This round of laps is slower as his energy burns lower, his tired body protesting after a long day on little sleep, but he keeps pushing himself until his muscles are trembling, until the sharp edge of wounded pride and hurt feelings abates into a sickly knot in the pit of his stomach. When he can’t make one more stroke through the water, he rolls onto his back to float in the center of the pool with his gaze turned up toward the open dome of the sky. 

While he watches the sunset unfold in glorious pinks and purples, the hum of adrenaline fades and his body cools in the water. He thinks of going back inside, but he has no idea if Bill will still be angry, especially when he has a justified right to be; and so, he stays in the water as the colors elongate, oversaturate, melt, and fade.The light is almost entirely gone from the sky, and he’s shivering from deep in his belly when movement at the edge of the pool draws his gaze. 

The water splashes quietly, breaking the utter silence, as Holden rolls off his back and treads water. 

Bill stands at the edge of the pool, holding a six pack of beer at his side. His eyes are shielded by his sunglasses, but the quietly extended olive branch is clear. 

They share a long, silent gaze while a breeze comes in from the gulf, blowing warm, night air across the strained distance between them. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Holden swims over to the edge of the pool. 

“Is one of those for me?” He asks, nodding at the beer. 

“No. Three of them are.”

“Okay. That seems fair.”

Bill’s mouth tugs ruefully as he bends down to extend his hand to Holden. 

Grabbing onto it, Holden pushes off the lip of the pool surround while Bill hoists him up out of the water. He crawls onto the sun-warmed cement, his body shivering as cooled air strikes his bare, wet skin. 

Bill sets the six-pack down on one of the plastic lounge chairs, and snags Holden’s towel. He tosses it to him, and Holden catches it mid-air. 

Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, Holden watches quietly as Bill sits down on the lounge chair, and cracks two of the beers open. He tries to gauge Bill’s frustration, but his silence means nothing - he’s a pro at the cold shoulder. 

Bill nods for Holden to join him. “You want your half or not?”

Holden shuffles over to the other lounge chair, and takes the offered beer. Leaning back, he takes a slow sip of the beer, and studies Bill’s profile. 

In the dying light, Bill’s mouth is damp from the beer, and his jaw is a tempered line of frustration. He pulls his cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, and lights one. The motions are familiar, his hands recognizable, his mouth and nose and sunglass-shielded eyes known to Holden, but he doesn’t understand this space between them, this friction. It’s new and unwieldy, a stretch of landmines he isn’t sure how to navigate. 

“Do you ever think we made a mistake?” Holden asks, sinking lower against the lounge chair with the towel tucked against his chin. 

“With what?” Bill asks, not looking over at him. “Sleeping together?”

“I was going to say ‘having a relationship’.”

Bill sighs, softly. “Yeah.”

“Maybe we should have waited until the divorce was over.”

Bill laughs, a small, wry chuckle that draws Holden’s gaze over and a frown to his brow. 

“What?” 

“You can’t approach everything from an analytical perspective.” Bill says, taking a drag of his cigarette. He tilts his head back to exhale smoke toward the open, dusky sky. “I couldn’t have made myself wait any longer even if I tried.”

Holden purses his mouth against an unbidden smile.

“Fuck,” Bill mutters, shaking his head. “I wanted you so bad, and now-”

“Now what?”

Bill takes his sunglasses off, turning to cast Holden a somber gaze. He tucks his beer in his lap, and reaches over to touch Holden’s knuckles. 

“Now, I’m … I’m trying to ruin it.” 

“You’re not. You were upset, understandably so.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“And I shouldn’t have acted like I know more about your situation than you do. I’m fine with just forgetting about it and moving on.”

“That’s the problem.” Bill says, swinging his legs over the side of the chair to face Holden completely. “I’ve already made that mistake - a million times.”

Holden purses his lips as Bill’s fingers curl tighter around his fingers. His chest tightens, a quiet flood of emotion wanting to break free. He’s good at repressing his feelings and leaving them to rot deep in his chest. That’s how he prefers it, and he wants to beg Bill not to make them face this - the raw honesty, the vulnerability that could undermine his entire emotional structure. 

“I’m sorry.” Bill says, quietly. 

Holden draws in a shuddering breath. “It’s okay; I’m already over it. Do you want to go inside? We could go back to your room or mine-”

“Holden.” 

“What?” 

“I’m serious.” Bill says, the corners of his eyes pinching with worry. “The divorce is far from over. There’s a chance today is going to repeat for months. If you don’t want to go through that, I understand.”

“What are you saying?”

“Well, you admitted it yourself - this could have been a mistake.”

Holden pulls his hand away from Bill’s, fresh anger of a different sort surging through his chest. He rises to his feet, clutching the towel closed at his chest. 

“No.” He says, sharply.

Bill squints up at him. “No?”

“No. I am not falling for that.”

“Falling for what?”

“You, manipulating me into breaking up with you because you won’t do it yourself.” Holden says, jabbing an accusatory hand at Bill’s alarmed expression. “I’ve been through that before, too, Bill. I’m not doing it this time. If you want to break up with me, you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

Bill’s mouth falls open slightly as Holden grabs his t-shirt and shoves his feet into his sandals. As he marches toward the hotel, Bill bolts up off the lounge chair and rushes after him.

“Holden.” 

Holden keeps walking, his vision swimming with enraged, hurt tears. 

Bill grabs at his arm, catching him by the wrist just as he reaches the pool gate. He pulls Holden back around, his other hand bracing firmly against his hip. 

“Please, stop.” Bill whispers as Holden tries to wrench away from him. “Holden, look at me.”

Holden stops, slowly lifting his misty gaze from the ground. His pulse thumps against Bill’s grasp, skin singing to the touch despite the frustration surging through his chest. 

“I came down here to apologize.” Bill says, softly. “Not to break up with you.”

“Then why are you saying these things?”

“Because, I … fuck-” Bill says, glancing away, his jaw clenching. He lets out a low sigh. “Because, as much as I love you, I can’t put you through this without at least giving you the chance to cut your losses and walk away.”

Holden swallows hard as fresh tears crush to the corners of his eyes. This time, they aren’t tears of pain or anger, but a rising relief climbing his chest like a tide. 

“You … you love me.” He whispers, the words sounding awkward and foreign in his mouth. He heard Bill say them out loud, but he’s not convinced it’s real. 

Bill lowers his head for a moment before lifting his eyes somberly to Holden’s. 

“Yes.”

Holden draws in a hitched breath. “Oh.”

“Yeah, so … that’s why I can’t drag you into something you didn’t sign up for, or not warn you that things could get worse before they get better.” 

“Well, that’s … that’s going to be a problem.”

Bill’s brow flickers worriedly. “Why?”

“Because.” Holden says, lifting his chin defiantly. “I love you, too. And I’m not walking away, come hell or high water.”

Bill gives a choked laugh, his eyes gleaming as he pulls Holden closer. Their mouths collide in a brief, warm kiss, shielded by the flimsy layer of the fence around them. When he pulls back, they’re both fighting quivering smiles. 

“Come on.” Holden murmurs, nodding towards the hotel, “Let’s go inside.”

“Yeah, okay.” Bill agrees, giving Holden’s waist a squeeze. 

He drops one more kiss on Holden’s cheek before going back to retrieve the six-pack from the lounge chair. 

They cross the deserted lobby at a distance, but when the doors of the elevator slide shut behind them, Holden reaches over to nudge his fingers against Bill’s. 

Bill smiles softly as he extends his fingers, entwining them loosely with Holden’s. 

Inching across the space between them, Holden lowers his head to Bill’s shoulder, and watches the floor indicator blip through the numbers. His heartbeat slows down, sinking into that melted, calm place that Bill so easily constructs with his touch. It’s a small moment in time, a lapse between storms, but Holden stubbornly defies the odds. Even if the water rises up over their knees, he isn’t letting go; whatever darkness lies ahead, this light, this happiness, is worth the struggle.

[saveyourblood]

Stolen Dance | Ch. 9

Summary: “Maybe this was a pipe dream, a delusion you’d soon awake from or a phase you’d outgrow. You didn’t really care. For a brief moment in time, you were in love. That’s what you chose to care about. That what you made matter.”

The one where you’re a paramedic, he’s an FBI agent, and the time you spend together is borrowed.

Word Count: 4.9k

Song: Smother - Daughter Warnings: Angst.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

_____________________

“We’ve already been over this a hundred times,” you said. You tugged at your blouse; you chose a bad day to wear this shirt. 

“This will be the last time,” Hotch assured.

“We need your entire testimony on tape,” Strauss continued. While they both sounded professional, Strauss’s had a certain… edge. It lacked the almost undetectable understanding in Hotch’s.

You sighed. “Dr. Reid, Agent Morgan and myself were told to investigate Professor Nichols’s house. Reid and Morgan waited in the yard like they were told. I walked around the perimeter of the house, and I found his lab. I found Nichols’s body, and I also found the broken vial of anthrax. I sealed off the door the moment I realized. I take full responsibility for what happened.” 

“Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple,” Strauss said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You directly disobeyed orders, and consequently, you endangered both your team and the Bureau's reputation.”

You frowned. “That sounds like it’s exactly my fault.” 

“If this went to court, it wouldn’t be,” Hotch clarified. “You haven’t been formally trained for terrorist and chemical warfare situations.”  

“Court?” You asked. “That’s what this is about?” 

“We’re all incredibly lucky for the positive outcome of the Nichols-Brown case,” Strauss said, “but it could have ended very differently.”

“If I died, maybe,” you shrugged, “but I didn’t. So I have to admit, ma’am: I don’t really see the problem here.” 

“The problem, Miss Y/L/N, is that the Bureau would have been held responsible for your death,” Strauss said. “You were hired as medical staff — you had no business being at that house in the first place.” 

“Okay, wow,” you laughed in surprise. “First of all, my background isn’t only in medicine; I served in an active warzone for 18 months. Before I was discharged, I was held hostage and tortured. Second of all, medical staff or not, my insight was integral to solving that case.”

“If you hadn’t discovered what you did —” 

“I did,” you interrupted Strauss, which may very well be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, but all you could see was red. “Ma’am, is there something else you’re trying to say?”

She stared at you for a moment before clearing her throat. “After reviewing the cases you’ve worked, the Director is concerned about your recent behavior.”

“‘My recent behavior’?”  You asked. “The hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“The VA sent over your prescription records,” Hotch said. 

“.5mgs of Alprazolam as needed, 175mgs of Sertraline for maintenance,” you confirmed.

“Considering your PTSD diagnosis along with your… erratic decision-making, the Director believes it would be best for you to step back,” Strauss informed.

You smirked, but it wasn’t in amusement. “With all due respect: if he feels that way, tell him to grow a pair and tell it to my face.” 

Strauss’s eyes widened, and you thought for a brief moment, so did Hotch’s.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, in complete disbelief. 

“I’m useful to this team as more than a paramedic — any agent will tell you that,” you said. “I can admit that what I did was reckless and stupid. But when it comes down to it, no more people got hurt. We can sit here and talk about theoretical lawsuits all you want, but at the end of the day, there’s nothing to talk about; the case ended as well as anyone could hope. No one can sue anyone. I did my job, and I did it well. I’m not going to apologize for that.” 

Strauss studied you, still trying to grasp your vocal confidence. “You’re on paid leave until you pass all required training. You’re not to work any cases until then, BAU or not. Understood?” 

“Yes ma’am,” you said before walking out. 

“How did it go?”

“About as well as I expected,” you said, shrugging off your coat and hanging it up. “I’m on paid leave until I go through all my training.”

“That’s… great,” Spencer said, letting out a breath of relief. He set his briefcase on your couch while he took off his scarf.

“Honestly? Strauss probably wants me gone,” you said, digging in your fridge for a couple of beers. “I’ll take paid leave any day.”

He frowned, walking around to take a seat on the couch. “What makes you say that?”

You used a bottle opener to pop off the tops of two bottles. You went into the living room, handing Spencer one of the bottles. 

“When I first interviewed, she didn’t seem thrilled with my qualifications, or rather, lack thereof,” you said, taking a sip of your beer. You curled up next to him on the couch. “She’s the reason I have to wear that stupid uniform — it’s her way of telling me and everyone else that I’m a paramedic, not a profiler. Half of that meeting was her telling me I’m a lawsuit in the making.”

“We’re lucky to have you on the team, Y/N, and not just as a paramedic,” Spencer promised, wrapping an arm around you. “Hotch would fight Strauss tooth and nail to keep you on.” 

You smiled softly. “Thanks,” you said, playing with the fingers on his freehand. “Spence, how would you feel about disclosing our relationship to HR?” 

He raised his eyebrows. “That would make things pretty official, don’t you think?” 

“Well, a little over a week ago, you did ask me to move in with you,” you laughed nervously. “Unless we’re not doing that anymore?”

Spencer turned to you, a smile creeping onto his face. “Nothing would make me happier.” 

You returned the smile. You took the beer bottle from his hand, set both of them on the couch, then — quite literally —  threw yourself at him. 

Spencer yelped in surprise. He grabbed you in a hug, but the sudden weight change threw off his balance, and the two of you toppled to the ground. You ended up pinned to the floor, laughing underneath your boyfriend. He cut off your laughs with a kiss. 

This… This felt good. 

_____________________

It took Austin’s mother three days to respond to the message you left her.

Just as Spencer suspected, it was easy for you to find her Facebook profile. Austin mentioned his mother to you a few times, and considering their unusual last name, there weren’t that many profiles to choose from. As if the name wasn’t enough, her second most-recent profile picture was one of Austin. 

Per Spencer’s recommendation, you used your own account to message her; something about people being more willing to trust you the more information they can see. You haven’t actively used the account in years, but it still had all of your basic info — age, hometown, job experience. 

You kept the message brief, simply stating that you served with Austin in Syria, and that if she wanted to call you, she could reach you on your cell phone. No friend request, no graphic details… just a random message out of the blue she had every right to ignore if she felt inclined to do so.

You were drinking coffee with Spencer after some of your training when you received a voicemail.

‘Hello, Y/N. My name is Angela Crow. I got the message you left me,’ she started. 

Janet went on to say that she would love to meet with you in person, if you were willing to do so. She lived with her husband in Seattle — they wanted to be closer to their daughter after losing their son. She thanked you for getting in contact and encouraged you to call back if you wanted to set something up. 

A few days later, you were standing in an airport. 

“You know, the last time we did this, it was the other way around,” you said to Spencer as you hoisted one of your two bags onto your shoulder.

You asked Strauss to not schedule any training for a week, telling her you didn’t care if you got paid for it or not. This wasn’t about your work, or the current lack thereof; this was entirely different. This was something you had to do. 

“I wasn’t entirely sure I was in love with you then,” Spencer returned. “I was pretty confident, though.” 

You chuckled. “Yeah, me too.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with?” He asked. You could only hope it was for the last time.

“Spencer, you have no luggage, and even if you did, a last minute-ticket would put you out at least a grand,” you deadpanned. Then, you took his hand. “I love you, and I wish you could be there. But this is something I have to do alone.” 

He smiled sadly. “I know. I just wish I could help.”

You frowned. “Spencer, you’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know. Besides, I’ll only be in Seattle for two days. Then, I’m spending two days with my mom in Colorado, and then I’ll be back home. You’ll be assigned a case as you won’t even realize I’m gone.” 

“Not possible,” he said, pulling you into a hug. 

You hugged him tightly. You felt him rest his chin on your shoulder, then his lips, then his chin again; it was his trademark. It made you smile. 

When you felt your eyes start to well up, you pulled away. 

“Go, get out of here,” you chuckled, “or else I’m gonna lose it.” 

He set a hand on your cheek and placed a soft kiss on your lips. When he pulled away, you wanted nothing more than to pull him back towards you. You knew you had to let him go, though. You had to let him go if you ever wanted him to be fully yours. 

“Goodbye,” he said softly, before walking away.

He made it a few yards before turning back to you to say something. 

“What?” you asked. People were staring, but you didn’t care.

He cleared his throat, moving a little closer. “I always have a go-bag in my car.”

You smiled. “Of course you do.” 

He grinned before waving you goodbye and walking off, this time, for real. 

You spent the first day in Seattle walking around. You passed a few tourist attractions and entered a few shops, but for the most part, you simply took in the city.  It was below freezing point, so the infamous Seattle rain became a thin blanket of snow that draped the entire town. You stayed bundled up in your jacket and occasionally took refuge in a cafe, ordering a coffee or tea and something small to eat.  You stumbled across a used bookstore, and you managed to find a biography of Edgar Allen Poe. You bought it as a gift for Spencer. 

You eventually took a cab back to your hotel room, texted Spencer that you were turning in for the night, and laid down in bed. And yet, despite your exhausting day of both travel and walking, you weren’t tired. Physically, you were exhausted, but your mind was racing. 

You sat in a local cafe called Prim and Proper, tapping the side of your mug anxiously. Mr. and Mrs. Crow offered to meet up here, as it was one of their favorite spots in the city. It was a smart rouse — no chance in hell would you have gone to their house right away. Your instincts simply didn’t allow it. 

“Y/N?” Someone asked hesitantly. 

You looked up to see a middle-aged couple observing you. By physical appearance alone, you could tell they were Austin’s parents. On their own, neither of them appeared to look more like their son:  it was a combination of their features that set you off. 

Austin’s hair was jet black, just like his father’s. However, the man in front of you had pale green eyes, unlike Austin’s dark brown ones. He got his eyes from his mother, who’s natural hair color was auburn. He was a perfect blend of both of them; you wondered if his sister turned out the same way. 

You smiled courteously, taking a stand and sticking out a hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

Rather than shaking your hand, Janet lowered it. A bit of panic set in. However, you soon realized she only did this so she could hug you.

Though initially startled, you eventually wrapped your arms around the petite woman. Austin must have inherited his height  from his dad. 

“I’m sorry,” Janet said, pulling away with watery eyes. “It’s really nice to meet you too, is all.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Austin’s dad — James — clarified.

“Really?” you asked, taken aback. “I had no idea Austin even mentioned me.”

The two of them shared a look. 

“Please, sit down,” you said, gesturing to the booth across from you. 

You didn’t think you could laugh so hard with strangers.

After some awkward small talk, the conversation seemed to pick up naturally. To your surprise, it was more than bearable — you could actually say you were enjoying yourself. It was like once the three of you started basking in the lighter memories, it was impossible to stop.

“Was he still a foodie overseas?” Janet asked.

“Oh, absolutely,” you laughed. “This one time, he put clam chowder on a sandwich. Sometimes, he’d trade men in his unit for random shit, throw it together, and eat it. I think he did it to get a rise out of me.” 

“Did it work?” James asked, chuckling.

“Of course! Some of the stuff he came up with was disgusting.”

“That sounds like Austin,” Janet agreed, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. “I can see why he loved you so much.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “H-he said that? He said… love?” 

James nodded. “All the time. After the two of you got together, every call he made home was to talk about you.”

“‘Mom, you’ll never guess what Y/N said’, ‘she’s so pretty’, ‘she’s the one’...” Janet reminisced. “He was head over heels.” 

“Wow,” you said. “I… I never knew. I mean, I loved him too, I told him, but he only told me once, and it was before…” You trailed off. 

The two exchanged another look. It made you uncomfortable, as it felt like you were being left out of something.

“You didn’t know?” James said. 

“...Didn’t know what?” 

Janet shrunk back in her seat. “The last call Austin made to us was three days before he died,” she explained. “He said he didn’t have much time to talk, but he told me to check my email.”

You frowned. “Your email? What did he send you?”

“A picture and an order form,” James picked up. 

“I don’t understand…” you said, clueless. “An order form for what?”

With a sniffle, Janet reached into her coat pocket. She briefly set her hand on the table, pulling it back to reveal a small, black box.

“A ring,” Janet whispered. “He was going to ask you to marry him, Y/N.” 

It felt like all of the blood in your body disappeared. Your face went cold, your hands were numb, and sweat began to break out on your forehead. 

“Y/N?” James asked, concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t be here,” you muttered. You fumbled for your wallet, tossing whatever bills you could find onto the table. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” 

You heard them protest, but by that time, you were already halfway across the cafe, making a beeline for the door. You were halfway down the street when you heard the couple stumble out of the cafe.

“Y/N, please, wait,” Janet pleaded.

“We’re sorry for springing it on you,” James said. “Please, come back inside. We can talk.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said as you turned around, “but I didn’t come here so I can fall in love with your son again. It’s been 3 years — I’ve moved on. I’ve met someone. He’s kind, and incredibly smart, and… alive. And I love him. I thought meeting the two of you could finally close this chapter of my life. Because I’m ready for that. I’m ready for it to be over. I’m sorry, but… I can’t.”

You continued walking, and this time, no one stopped you. 

You ended up walking back to the hotel rather than hitching a ride of some sort. Halfway through your trek, snow began to fall. Small, white flakes got caught in your hair and eyelashes; they settled on you coat briefly before melting. It felt oddly fitting.

You sat in your hotel room for a few hours, the TV on as white noise as you stared out the window. You’d been cradling the same cup of tea the entire time, taking only a few sips every once in a while. You reheated it at least three times, but you had yet to add any more water. 

You didn’t think that one day, you might be married. You didn’t think you’d ever find someone who’d want to spend the rest of their life with you. You’ve thought about kids and settling down, yes, but something about marriage seemed so… official. It didn’t seem right. 

The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized something: you would’ve said yes. 

Austin was conventional, but everything about your relationship with him wasn’t. You met in a warzone and shared kisses behind closed doors. It only took a few months for the two of you to know each other inside and out. So, had a sweet Texan boy who once stole your heart asked if he could keep it, you would have agreed. 

That probably scared you more than anything else.

You heard a knock at the door. 

You stood up with a frown, setting your mug on the end table. You crossed your arms and leaned in to the peephole, sighing in both relief and anxiety when you realized who was on the other side. 

“Mr. Crow…” you said as you opened the door.

He raised a hand. “Hear me out. Please.”

After a moment of consideration, you stepped aside to let him in. 

“You used both locks,” James recalled as he took off his coat. “Austin did the same thing every time he came back. I guess what they say is true — you never come home the person you left as.” 

You decided to humor him. 

“I put a padlock on my apartment door,” you admitted. “I put an extra lock on the bedroom door too. Just in case.” 

He nodded in understanding.

“We thought you knew,” he said quietly. “I swear, we thought he asked you. In fact, we thought that’s why you decided to talk to us in the first place.” 

You shook your head sadly. “I had no clue. I just… as selfish as this sounds: I wanted to put this all behind me. I have a boyfriend who wants me to move in with him. We’ve talked about having kids. I have a new job and I’m going back to school. I’m not the same person I was in Syria, or even Colorado. What happened with Austin is a part of me, and a part of me will always love him, but I don’t let it consume me anymore.”

“I understand,” James said. “But… can I be honest with you?” 

“It’s preferred.”

He chuckled sadly. “Janet wanted this to be the start of something. She’s thought a lot about you, even if she won’t admit it. She’s always wondered what you were like, if you were as amazing as Austin made you out to be. Whenever I’ve confronted her, she’s brushed it off, but I think… I think she’s made up a different world: one where you and Austin are married. A world where he didn’t die and the two of you lived happily ever after.” 

James reached in his pocket. He came back with the ring, which was still in its case. “I wish that world was real. But it just isn’t. We don’t have a son anymore, but we have a daughter. We have grandchildren. I want to think about them; I want to live in what’s real. Janet does too, she just… can’t. She wakes up every morning, sees this ring sitting on the dresser, and spends the rest of the day thinking about Austin. The grief still consumes her, and I think this ring is a part of the reason why.”

“She sees it and lives in possibility rather than reality,” you agreed softly. 

He nodded, then cleared his throat. 

“You said meeting us was selfish,” James continued.

You nodded. “In a way, yes.” 

“Well, it’s my turn to be selfish,” he said, extending his arm. “Take it. I don’t care what you do with it — if you keep it, lock it away, throw it in the goddamn ocean for all I care. Just… please, get it out of our lives.”

Swallowing thickly, you reached a hand out. To your surprise, it was James who hesitated.

“I love my son,” he said, voice cracking.

Tears sprung to your eyes.

“I know,” you whispered, taking the box from his hand. “I do too.” 

You made sure to hold his grasp a little longer than necessary. 

_____________________

You walked down the stairs in the airport. To your surprise, you saw a line of people holding up neon signs, and all of them were for you. 

“Y/N!” Garcia cheered, frantically waving her sign that read ‘welcome’. Derek stood next to her holding ‘home’, JJ held ‘Y/N’, and Spencer held a sign with three exclamation points. Emily stood next to Spencer and Rossi in the middle. 

You chuckled, approaching your second family. “This is completely unnecessary.”

“Hotch was busy with a case file, but he sends his love,” Garcia continued as if you said nothing. 

“Wait, so you guys just finished up a case?” you asked.

You looked to Spencer, who nodded.

“Oh my god, go home!” You said with a laugh. “This was really sweet, you guys, but seriously, go home. Get some sleep. God knows I will.” 

“I second that,” JJ agreed, handing her sign off to Garcia. Then, she hugged you. “Glad you’re back, Y/N.” 

You waved both JJ and Emily goodbye, as the two of them rode in together. 

“Come on, baby girl,” Derek said, wrapping an arm around Garcia. “Let’s get you home.” 

You took both of Garcia’s signs as well as Derek’s, hugging them both before they left. 

“Need a ride?” Rossi offered.

“Oh, my place is actually on the way to Spencer’s,” you lied. “Thank you, though. Have a good night, Rossi.” 

When the door closed behind Rossi, you pulled Spencer in for a deep kiss. You grabbed him by the tie he was wearing, practically slamming your mouth against his. The two of you made out for a few seconds, before you remembered other people were around who probably prefer not to watch. 

“What was that for?” Spencer asked breathlessly when you pulled away.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “No reason. I missed you, is all.”

He smiled giddily, wrapping an arm around you. “I missed you too.” 

You grinned, shoving a hand in your pocket. Your fingertips grazed the ring case. Your smile faded ever so slightly. 

_____________________

The training you went through may as well have been called ‘common sense’; most of it was merely a fancy way of saying ‘wait for backup, you’re underqualified.’ Whether it was a bomb threat or a terrorist attack, you and all the other rookie agents learned the bare minimum. Really, this was stuff you could only learn on the field, in the moment. Thankfully, you’ve lived through most of it already. 

“You seriously already work for the BAU?” Marcus asked, in awe.

You nodded, taking a sip of your water. 

It was another 6-hour session, and by noon, you and the rest of the class were on a lunch break.

“What the hell are you doing here, then?” Another student, Jessica, asked.

“I was hired as a paramedic,” you clarified. “The BAU is nonstop, so I haven’t really had the chance to get properly trained.”

“If you aren’t trained, how did you talk your way into working on the field?” Marcus asked.

“The Unit Chief offered me a job,” you said nonchalantly. “I served in the military before becoming a paramedic, so he knew I was capable.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here,” Jessica pointed out.

“It’s so the Bureau can cover all their bases,” you replied. 

“You mean so they know you can’t sue them?”

You smirked. “I didn’t say that — you did.” 

Jessica shared the expression. “Understood.” Suddenly, her demeanor changed; her expression went flat and she shrunk in her chair.

“Hello, Jessica,” A familiar voice greeted from behind you.

“Hello, Chief Strauss,” she returned. 

You turned around, greeting her.  “Ma’am.”

“May I speak to you a moment?” She asked.

Nodding, you stood up. “Be right back,” you said to your table with a wink.

Strauss led you down a hallway, away from the commons and inhabited offices. It was just the two of you and a flickering lightbulb. 

“Do you know why I was offered this job, Y/N?” She asked.

You shook your head. “No, ma’am.” 

“Because I was just like you — I was just as stubborn as I was ambitious. I was passionate, and quick on my feet, but I could be hard-headed, especially when it came to my superiors. I felt trapped, like I was being forced into a role that didn’t quite fit.”

“How does this apply to me, ma’am?” 

She sighed. “I want to apologize for the way I treated you in the past.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Seriously?” 

“Rather than viewing you as an asset to the BAU, I saw you as a liability. I got caught up in the technical side of things; I cared more about how it would look on paper than what good it could do for the department. I did the very thing that pissed me off as a young agent. And for that, I’m sorry.” 

You smiled softly, outstretching your hand. She shook it briefly. 

“I heard you’re pursuing a degree in Psychology,” Strauss continued.

“I am,” you confirmed.

“Well, when you graduate, the BAU would be lucky to hire you as a profiler,” she said. “Agent Hotchner already speaks highly of you.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

She made it halfway down the hallway before turning back to look at you.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Chief?” You asked.

“If you ever speak to me like you did in that meeting again, you can kiss this and any future job goodbye.”

You chuckled. “Understood.” 

_____________________

“Is this really everything?” 

“For the last time, Spencer: yes, this is everything I own.” 

Just as you had packed up your Jeep to move out to Virginia, you had done it once again. Only this time, your belongings were moving to the other end of town rather than halfway across the country. 

“What about photos? It’s said that photography is the simplest and most effective way to add character to a space.”

You slammed the trunk shut. “My mom has all of my pictures back in Colorado. I have a photo of her in my wallet.”

You decided to leave out the photograph of Austin you kept hidden away in a keepsake box. 

“Shoes?” He asked dumbly. “On average, American women own 19 pairs of shoes.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with 19 pairs of shoes?” you asked. “I have work shoes, dress shoes, and my boots.”

Spencer smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “I just can’t believe you can pack up your entire life into a single vehicle.” 

“It’s okay,” you promised, setting your arms on his shoulders. “Most people don’t get it.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips while his hand reached up to cradle your cheek. “You don’t own any books,” he whispered after pulling away. He kept close, though, so close that neither of you opened your eyes. “I find that truly upsetting.”

You laughed, kissing him again. After managing to pull yourself away, you opened the trunk again. “Speaking of books…” you said, flipping open a box and reaching in. You came back with something wrapped in a bow. “I forgot to give this to you when I got back from Seattle.”

You handed Spencer the Edgar Allen Poe biography. He carefully removed the ribbon, running his fingers over the cover.

“You’ve probably read it already, but I thought it looked cool,” you said. “Besides, I thought once you’re done with it, you could loan it to me.” 

“If I start on the car ride, I’ll be done with it by the time we reach the apartment.” 

“Show off. You want to read my Sociology textbook while you’re at it? I have a paper due Wednesday.” 

Spencer chuckled. One hand found your waist, pulling your body against his.

“I’ll get right on it,” he promised.

“Good,” you hummed, tracing his lips with your finger. 

Who needs a ring when you have this?

_____________________

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Gender-Swapped Headcanons

@blueanimewriting:  Hey hun♡♡ can i request some gender swap headcanons for Ray,Fenrir,Harr,Jonah and Lancelot? Like they turn into females and their fem s!o into male? How'd they react or deal with this? Thanks!!

Ray

Ray would immediately notice the additional weight on his chest. At first, he thought it was Belle, but the pain was prevalent in his back as well. There was no way Belle could be over and under him. He’d get up to have a nice stretch, but that did not cure his backache.

He’d notice the difference while he was changing. His pants would not go below his hips no matter how hard he tugged on it. Instead, Ray had to tear his pajamas from his body, only to discover that his hips had grown an additional three inches. At first, he assumed it was from overeating at Luka’s larger dinner last night, but his top would only confirm the idea that Ray was no longer a male.

Honestly, Ray would be the most chill about the entire gender-swap concept amongst the five suitors. It was definitely something new to him, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before. He would be worried that the others wouldn’t be able to recognize him, but Ray could easily avoid that by spending all his time in his office. No one would dare bother him while he’s busy. He just had to slip in before anyone noticed.

The only person to bother him would be his S/O, who happened to become a male. Their first interaction wouldn’t last very long because Ray would assume his gender-bent S/O was another soldier in the Black Army. Upon closer inspection, however, Ray would see that there were too many similarities between this solider and his S/O. It wouldn’t be long before Ray put the pieces together.

Now he’d invite her in his room so the two could work this out before anyone else discovered their secret, but his S/O was too busy rushing to his room to try on his clothes. Although she was a male now, her height remained the same, so none of Ray’s clothes fit on her. Nevertheless, Ray had to admit she looked cute in them, even as a guy. 

Now his S/O insisted that Ray tried on her clothes. He usually went for the blues, greens, and purples. However, the big takeaway from this experience was that Ray loved to wear skirts. The feeling of the fabric not clinging to his legs gave them room to breathe, which was awesome. He even considered having skirts for men in the Black Army just so he could wear on himself.

The only downfall of being a girl was the fact that his cats did not recognize him. Belle ran away every time Ray tried to coddle her, which broke his heart. Luckily, he was able to attract more stray cats. They were drawn to his adorable look, just like his S/O.

Fenrir

An alarm would go off in Fenrir’s head the moment he wakes up to inches of pink hair all over his face. When he would violently brush them away, he’d feel a tug on his scalp and yelp in pain. However, his yelp was more high-pitched than usual. It sounded feminine. He’d speak once more, sentences of random nonsense. It wasn’t mucus covering his vocal cords nor was there any pain straining his voice to sound high-pitched.

He’d pat himself all over his upper body and stop at his chest. What was once flat with muscle was now rounded with fat. Fenrir would definitely look down his shirt to see objects that look too similar to the female breast. That’s his cue to rush to the mirror.

Fenrir would be surprised at first, not sure what to think of the whole switch. But the longer he looks into the mirror, the more he likes his new look. It was absolutely insane and he just had to show it to his S/O.

Before he could leave, Fenrir hears a knock on the door. It is none other than his gender-swapped S/O! Fenrir has to circle around her just to get a better look and he has to admit, his S/O makes a better man than he did. But what else could he expect, she is the most gorgeous person alive.

They’d spend the whole day outside, seeing what all the cool things they could do with their new bodies. Fenrir, who opted the name “Fenia” in public, was able to charm all the male sellers for free treats and drinks. They couldn’t get enough of his wild yet cool personality.

His S/O used to the opportunity to pubs and bars that she didn’t have access to as a female. But her favorite part was to randomly sweep Fenrir off his feet and twirl him around. Even as a girl, Fenrir was incredibly fun to watch as his long, pink hair whirled around in the wind.

However, Fenrir wasn’t a fan of the long hair. There were too many instances where pink strands would collide with his tongue. The harder part was getting them out of his mouth and cleaning up the remaining saliva. Instead, he went to the barber to get it cut. At first, he wanted to have his original haircut, but his S/O insisted that he get a shoulder-length cut. Fenrir only agreed to this on the condition that his S/O got a haircut as well.

Also, I feel like he’d take the opportunity to go mess around with Ray. He’d mockingly flirt with the king just for the laughs. His S/O would have to later explain the situation that they were stuck in, causing Ray to wonder if Fenrir had angered a magic-user (which wouldn’t be surprising because he’s fought off Amon’s men)

Harr

(Sorry if this one isn’t as good as the rest, I don’t know too much about Harr since I haven’t played Loki’s route yet!)

Harr is awakened by a very angry male. He’d assume it was an intruder of some sort and immediately use his magic to stabilize the possible threat.

However, when he hears this male talks, he notices that their talking style is way too similar to his S/O. Another lightbulb would go off in his head as he realizes that the stranger looked a lot like his S/O.

In the meantime, his S/O would demand answers from female Harr, who is silently trying to understand what is going on. It wouldn’t take Harr more than a few minutes to discover that his S/O had become a male.

While thinking about possible reasons for her gender switch, Harr put his hand on his jaw. It seemed much smaller than usual, he could cup his entire jaw and chin with one hand. Was it possible that he became a female?

Once his hands go to his chest, Harr would flush a bright red. That was definitely something that was part of a woman’s body, not a man’s body.

He would calmly explain to his S/O about the gender swap, noting how someone must have cast a special type of magic on them. He wanted to switch back, but he didn’t know how to undo this mess (and he definitely didn’t want to try something reckless that could permanently damage him and his S/O).

Harr would become the shy, mysterious girl trope that most animes have. Many people would note of his beauty, but wonder why such a beauty wore such an eye mask. He’d have to wear a cloak to stay away from the public’s eye.

He also wouldn’t care for many feminine items, but I do see him as a perfume person. He’d always go for the earthy scents like mint, rosemary, maple tree, and sandalwood. His S/O’s nose would fall apart from all the different scents.

He wouldn’t be able to look at himself while changing or using the bathroom. Harr would feel too embarrassed to see such intimate parts that don’t belong to him, but he wouldn’t be able to have his S/O help him out because he’s still technically nude. It would take quite some time before he’s ready.

Jonah

When Jonah wakes up, he wouldn’t notice the changes immediately. He too preoccupied on daily plans to focus on the new body. However, he’d feel new sensations through his body. Nevertheless, he wouldn’t realize the gender change until he goes to his mirror to tidy his appearance. Once he sees a female in the mirror, he’d let out a girlish scream.

He’d first confront Edgar, assuming it’s a prank, but Edgar wouldn’t have any answers this time. Obviously, Jonah wouldn’t believe Edgar and would march into his S/O’s room to check up on her. He is not pleased when he sees a half-dressed male in the room, staring at the mirror.

When his S/O turns around and examines Jonah, she’ll start to laugh. Jonah, who has no idea what’s going on, demand answers from the gender-bent S/O or have them imprisoned for trespassing. The S/O will have to spend lots of time convincing the Queen of Hearts. She’d bring up personal details that only she would know to prove her identity to Jonah.

Jonah would look at his S/O’s mirror and realize that this was not Edgar's doing and that the gender-swap was real. He’d suddenly realize that he cannot perform his duties as a female because no one will recognize him.

His next stop would be Lancelot’s office. The king’s magic would surely be able to bring him back to normal. Unfortunately, Lancelot left the Red Headquarters rather early, leaving Jonah in his female body for the day.

He begrudgingly goes back to Edgar. Jonah will inform the Jack of Hearts about his current status, who will advise Jonah to not perform his duties today. Although Jonah protests, Edgar points out all the issues that may arise from the situation. The Queen of Hearts reluctantly agrees.

Jonah would have immense difficulty in using the restroom or changing. It would make him uncomfortable looking at his lady parts because exposure to such parts was considered “unladylike.”

He’d also be a major makeup person. Once the S/O introduces Jonah to makeup, Jonah would try on all her lipsticks and blush. He would lean towards pinkish-nude lip colors while opting for reddish-pink shades of blush. When he turns back into a male, I can guarantee you that Jonah will sneak in a nude lip in his day-to-day look.

Being the prettiest girl in the area would bring some unwanted attention. Random soldiers would leer at Jonah. A few would even cat-call the Queen of Hearts. That’s when male S/O would appear, with an angry scowl and a sword on their belt. The men would back off, but that wouldn’t stop Jonah from giving them a piece of his mind. Once he’s a male, Jonah would see to it that they lost their positions.

As a female, Jonah would be the definition of PMS. Not only would he get super moody and irritable before his period, but he’d also have lots of food cravings. His consumption of macarons and mille-feuille would increase dramatically, causing him to bloat a ton. When he places a hand on his stomach, he’ll notice it immediately and panic that his well-trained body was gaining fat. The S/O would have the explain to Jonah about the details of PMS, symptoms of PMS, and period.

Lancelot 

We’ll change the situation here every-so slightly: After a long night, Lancelot and his S/O fell asleep together. The next morning, Lancelot would wake up face-to-face with a man, who was clearly not his S/O. He’d look for his S/O, but realize that she isn’t anywhere. The man probably took her.

Unfortunately, the S/O will wake up with a sword at her throat. Lancelot would growl at her, demanding that she give whereabouts about his S/O (aka herself). However, the S/O herself is confused because she isn’t being threatened by Lancelot, but by another woman. A very confused interrogation would occur and both parties would slowly realize that they’ve swapped genders. 

Here’s the issue: Lancelot could probably undo the swap with his magic (because it would affect his duties as king). The only reason he’d even consider staying in this body is that his S/O wanted to see life in the Red Army as a man. In that case, Lancelot would adopt the name Lisbeth as they wandered around the castle. 

As a female, Lancelot would have the best fashion sense. Just look at all the capes, crowns, and outfits he owns. Although the outfits seem more masculine, Lancelot would look like a complete boss in them. He’d wear maroon nail polish and a sharp cat-eye liner to finish the look.  When he sat on his throne, his S/O had a major nosebleed and went to heaven because he was so elegant yet so sexy. 

However, he’d find his S/O extremely attractive in the Red Army uniform. The silver sword hanging from her belt, the golden ornaments on the cuff of her hands, the thigh-high boots. Lancelot would pay attention to all these small details. So what if she was a guy? She looked absolutely amazing and Lancelot just had to appreciate the beauty. 

The day would end at the flower garden. Instinctively, Lancelot would pick out a rose to place in his S/O’s hair. However, his S/O would take the rose from his hands and place it in his hair. 

As the moonlight shines against them, they’d lean in for a kiss. Now Lancelot would need a little time to mentally and physically adjust kissing when his S/O was a guy. However, Lancelot would still take lead and have the same passion that he held in his normal body. It wouldn't take long before the thoughts of their gender changes melted away as they kissed under the shining stars.

[dansiere]

—    BASICS.

▸     IS    YOUR    MUSE    TALL    /    SHORT    /    AVERAGE ? Pearl stands at 5′10″ (178 cm) which renders her rather tall whenever compared to most women/humans in general. However, compared to most Gems she seems of average height. After all, she is easily dwarfed by Gems that stand higher in Homeworld’s hierarchy such as quartzes, jaspers, agates, bismuth, or, most strikingly diamonds. There are some exceptions, however. Pearl (i.e) towers over most peridots, lapis, sapphires, larimar and rubies. 

▸      ARE    THEY    OKAY    WITH    THEIR    HEIGHT ? She is not necessarily bothered by it but isn’t too fond of it either. Pearl is rather self-conscious about her appearance, given how much of it is linked to her status as former servant. The underlying discomfort notwithstanding; similar to her age, her height is but a number to her. 

▸      WHAT’S    THEIR    HAIR    LIKE ? Predominantly peach in colour, it can be considered orange from time to time [you may call her a ginger]. It’s relatively short & cut in a pixie cut at the front while styled up in the back. It reaches slightly beneath chin-length when wet but usually keeps its form due to well, Gem magic. Pearl used to wear a messier version of her standard hairstyle in her “youth”; indeed, during the war, she proudly donned a more “wild” look to complement her status as a renegade, whereas her hairstyle during her days spent in servitude featured a ‘rosebud’ kind of cut. Shortly after Rose’s death & Steven’s birth, Pearl eventually donned a very tidy & clean-cut look [for reasons that I will elude on further below]; no hair is allowed to pop out of its place. -- her hair itself is surprisingly soft & fluffy to the touch. 

▸     DO    THEY    SPEND    A    LOT    OF    TIME    ON    THEIR    HAIR     /    GROOMING ? Sadly, yes. She does not need to tend to her form per se but does so anyway in order to keep up a flawless & orderly appearance at any given time. -- however, ever since CYM, Pearl has gradually become more laid-back again & thus donned a messier hairstyle more reminiscent of the one worn during the war.

▸      DOES   YOUR   MUSE   CARE   ABOUT   THEIR   APPEARANCE   /   WHAT    OTHERS    THINK ? Absolutely, yes. While she will never admit it, Pearl is very, very self-conscious out of various reasons (one being her abysmal self-esteem). Never one to bring up physical attributes (why, in theory, she does not necessarily believe that she has much to offer in that regard. Her body is a hardlight projection & she perceives it as such), she is nonetheless hyperaware of what exactly her appearance entails. Pearls are designed to look "pretty” & are EASILY recognized based on their lanky & delicate built (i.e their noses, slim & rather ‘androgynous’ physique, posture, voice, & even more ‘individual’ traits such as hairstyle or the colour of their clothes). Needless to say, the fact that she possesses the physical traits of a pearl will always mark her as something or someone ‘special’ in a negative sense; more an object than a person, to be exact. Due to that, she has been changing her form quite often in the past, always trying her utmost to go against any classically pearl-esque trait.

—    PREFERENCES.

▸     INDOORS    OR    OUTDOORS ?  both ▸     RAIN   OR    SUNSHINE ?  sunshine, though she is fascinated by Earth’s weather in general. ▸     FOREST    OR    BEACH ?  again, both even though she has a preference for the beach due to basically having lived right next to one for approx. 5000 years. ▸     PRECIOUS    METALS  OR    GEMS ?  ... hm. Swords. ▸     FLOWERS    OR    PERFUMES ?  flowers by a long shot. ▸     PERSONALITY  OR    APPEARANCE ? personality; though admittedly, she developed quite the type regarding appearance. It is canon that most of her ‘flings’ resembled Rose.   ▸     BEING    ALONE    OR    BEING    IN    A    CROWD ?  being in a crowd; she feels at unease in both cases but loneliness is something she is absolutely terrified of (she is prone to self-isolation during or after a breakdown, however: partially out of the desire to punish herself); Pearl is someone who needs people around her, preferably two. She may retreat to her room rather often or like to sit outside on her own but she only feels truly at ease whenever Garnet, Rose / Steven & Amethyst are in her proximity. ▸     ORDER    OR    ANARCHY ?  order, without a doubt. Her younger self was certainly more fond of anarchy, however. It is also important to state that she sometimes WISHES she could simply solve her problems in a duel again; after all, to her, as a fan of logic, fighting is less stressful than dealing with her emotions. ▸     PAINFUL    TRUTHS    OR   WHITE    LIES ?  white lies., without a doubt. Pearl is an excellent liar; not necessarily by choice but... well. She is fairly good at twisting words. ▸     SCIENCE    OR    MAGIC ?  science. ▸     PEACE    OR    CONFLICT ?  another quite difficult choice; while she fights for peace, conflict is where she thrives. It is one of those ironic cases in which a person defines or rather defined herself by participating in a war & for Pearl the war was ... well, detrimental to her identity. She romanticizes it to NO END. ▸     NIGHT    OR    DAY ?  both; it does not make much of a difference to her in the end. She might prefer night time simply because she loves to stargaze but well. She is fond of the sun too. ▸     DUSK    OR   DAWN ?  dawn; Pearl loves watching the sun rise. ▸     WARMTH    OR    COLD ?  again, it makes no difference. Pearl cannot feel either. ▸     MANY   ACQUAINTANCES    OR    A    FEW    CLOSE    FRIENDS ?  few close friends; as I stated earlier, she needs people around her because she cannot really be alone. That urge notwithstanding, Pearl is a very introverted person who struggles with social norms; in fact, she often forces herself to socialize to a ridiculous degree. In SU:Future, she is constantly trying to meet new people that are capable of a) giving her the validation she requires, b) still fill the hole that Rose left & c) to distract herself from whatever uncomfortable thoughts are on her mind post-CYM. Her prime focus remains the Crystal Gems, but it is safe to say that she is lowkey trying to emulate an environment she revelled in during war times; she likes to be admired by people since it gives her confidence & stability. -- there is a reason why she calls her human acquaintances “her fanclub”. ▸     READING    OR    PLAYING    A    GAME ?  reading; she loves games that include strategic thinking or logic in general, however. Or anything that allows her to ramble on & on about topics of interest.

—    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    OF    YOUR    MUSE’S    BAD    HABITS ? She is a nervous wreck; a mess. Pearl’s biggest issue is her inability to let go of the past or deal with her emotions in a healthy way. Her tons of personal growth notwithstanding, she is fond of white lies & emotional self-destruction. While she is usually selfless by nature, most of her rather reckless actions have proven to be quite damaging to those around her (i.e. Garnet, Amethyst, Steven & even herself). Pearl is furthermore emotionally unstable & spins out of control hard & fast, is prone to extreme jealousy, possessiveness & obsession may it be with Rose or details/symmetry, what if’s & cleanliness as such. Pearl is quick to judge, over-protective, terribly patronizing at times (even though she does not mean to be), incredibly controlling & just “does too much” whenever pushed. She is also fond of blaming herself in quite the fatal way & lives “inside her head” way too much. Low-self esteem & lack of confidence leads to her lashing out rather than handling situations in a calm manner; while appearing steady & being quite the strategist, she can turn into a bundle of nerves within a second, usually yielding to hysteria & knee-jerk reactions that do more harm than good. -- she means well & she is a very loving/caring person who has her heart in the right place but sometimes she just... messes up. After all, she never truly had the time to deal with her own myriad of trauma & it shows. 

▸      HAS    YOUR    MUSE    LOST    ANYONE    CLOSE    TO    THEM ?      HOW    HAS    IT    AFFECTED    THEM ? Yes, her partner/lover Rose Quartz. It is a loss that is still haunting her 16 years after the other’s death; needless to say, she did not handle it well at all. While she knew that Rose would die to give birth to Steven (mainly due to her having been told in advance / her suspecting so after Rose fell in love with Greg), Pearl held on to the thought of her ‘changing her mind’ until the very end. When the time came, Pearl utterly collapsed. She spent the first few months in utter self-isolation (either sitting next to Rose’s statue at the fountain or in her room, laying on her back & staring at the wall / ceiling or knees to her chest), barely speaking to anyone; the very mention of Rose or Steven made her burst into tears. It went so far that she... basically tried to shatter herself after around six months. Pearl was, however, stopped by Garnet who showed herl a future in which Steven would come to grow & live alongside them, just how Rose had wanted it to be. Pearl still poofed herself but emerged later with a changed form, apologizing for her behaviour & swearing to never try something that selfish ever again.

     Her newfound hope notwithstanding; coercing herself to function normally (after just a year) despite her looming agony put a serious strain on her & most of her already damaged relationships to the other two remaining Crystal Gems. She stopped confiding in Garnet, & her relationship to Amethyst broke apart; she was moody, screamed at the others, ran away, lost focus during missions which eventually endangered the life of her comrades & her own. She got poofed several times & as a consequence took longer to regenerate up until the point were she got more & more lethargic, volatile & eventually depressed with no drive, trying her utmost to function via hyperfixating on Steven. Additionally, she (i.e) developed a neurosis & a serious obsession with cleanliness & details as a consequence, busying herself with her role as Steven’s caretaker & housekeeping duties, with Garnet serving as her rock in her weakest & most volatile moments. -- she eventually managed to make the conscious decision to move on around Steven’s 15th birthday & has been working on herself ever since. Needless to say, it is a slow progress.

▸      WHAT    ARE    SOME    FOND    MEMORIES    YOUR    MUSE    HAS ?   Most of Pearl’s happy memories pivot around pretty much everything that happened during the Gem War, with a heavy focus on whatever Rose & her did together. -- one of the most striking experiences she told Steven about was the discovery of the Lunar Blossom Grove that ended with her & Rose “dancing all night” in a pause between several battles, or the time she sat on top of a cliff above Strawberry Fields, where Rose & her made the promise to stay on Earth & spend their future together. Other happy memories include heroic battles alongside Garnet & Bismuth, fusions between her & Rose or discovering Earth’s beauty. She has thousands of memories that go into the same direction which she will fondly talk about whenever asked. 

▸     IS    IT    EASY    FOR    YOUR    MUSE    TO    KILL ? Yes. She is a veteran who fought in a thousand-year war for Earth’s independence. She shattered & poofed various Gems; efficient, precise & took no risks. 

▸      WHAT’S    IT    LIKE    WHEN    YOUR    MUSE    BREAKS    DOWN ? Oh, it’s ugly. She gets very emotional (hysterical, almost); a lot of tears, a lot of balled fists & screaming. In the worst cases, she gets aggressive, vocal, & even physical from time to time. She will punch walls, shatter objects, run her hands through her hair. She will lash out, say things that HURT & won’t apologize either. Most part of the time, Pearl runs off whenever it is too much. When alone, she will usually collapse & cry until she can’t no more. After that follows a period of her staying silent for hours. -- sometimes she calms down & pretends nothing ever happened or tries to make up for her actions by doing favours for those she has hurt.

▸      IS    YOUR    MUSE    CAPABLE    OF    TRUSTING    SOMEONE    WITH    THEIR    LIFE ?

Partially yes, partially no. Pearl does not value her life as much as she should. The only person she ever blindly trusted was Rose & even that came around to bite her in the end. She trusts Garnet to always have her back & watch over her, while she herself considers Steven & Amethyst people she ought to protect. -- however, Pearl is the type to willingly throw herself off a cliff almost immediately if it will spare someone she loves from an untimely end.

▸      WHAT’S    YOUR    MUSE    LIKE    WHEN    THEY’RE    IN    LOVE ? Pearl is an extremely romantic person; usually very physical & devoted, she will go miles for her s.o (imagine every romance movie cliche ever & you may get a good idea of how she will behave). Rather old fashioned, she is the kind of person that writes love letters or poetry; the kind that takes her s.o. to secluded places to spend the night with dancing under the stars, bring flowers or wine & simply take the time to make her s.o. feel loved. She is passionate through & through; her love is the yearning kind, extremely loyal, thoughtful, and all-consuming. Why, if Pearl falls for someone, she falls very, very hard.

tagged by : @foxcharmed, expect a letter from my lawyer soon. This meme came for me. tagging :  @reantte, @huntershowl, @kissafist, @ndeavor, @spiraledheart, @spnel, @carvedbones, @handspoken, & @enshijou.