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sardonic-sprite · 3 years ago

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Rocks Under Tide

written for Whumptober 2022, days 1, 27, 29 (see tags)

author's notes on ao3

"Hey, Dad," Tim called, sloughing his backpack off his shoulder and onto the kitchen table. "I'm home!"

No answer, which was unsurprising. Jack wasn't one to acknowledge Tim's existence unless that existence was beneficial.

He wandered into the living room, frowning when he found it empty. The TV was off, which meant his dad wasn't on a simple bathroom or snack break.

Tim slid into a fighting stance.

"Dad?" he tried again, creeping out of the living room and hoping he wasn't about to find his father crumpled on the floor, "Are you here?"

The study was empty, but it looked the same as when Tim had last seen it. All of the rooms looked the same, actually, which fairly debunked Tim's Intruder theory.

"Hello!" he hollered. "Dad?"

"Timothy?"

Tim would have sighed in relief if not for the ice in his father's voice.

"Come up here, now."

Tim swallowed tightly. "Coming!"

He tried to stifle the flood of anxiety, telling himself Jack was just... volatile, and was probably annoyed Tim hadn't cleaned his room or something. Maybe today had been rough for him physically. It didn't necessarily have anything to do with Tim himself.

Tim's bedroom door was wide open, light on.

He took a deep breath, pressing his hands against his thighs to keep them from shaking.

He probably just saw my report card or something.

Tim had meant to get help with English, really, but his essay - which would make a good 35% of his grade - was supposed to be on To Kill A Mockingbird, and the one time he brought it up, Dick cried and Bruce could only explain that it was one of Jason's favorite books. Tim couldn't ask them to pore over it with him after that.

He meant to go for a casual What's up?, but when he stepped through the doorframe his voice died.

His room was utterly, completely trashed. Dresser drawers all open, contents strewn around the room. Posters torn down, hamper overturned, even his mattress yanked half off the bedframe. His desk had been pulled away from the wall, and everything down to his pencil case had been spilled on top. His laptop was open to his browser history, blessedly clear of anything damning.

Only, that didn't matter.

Because Jack was holding Tim's Robin uniform.

"What. Is. This?" he hissed, brandishing the kevlar at Tim.

"A cosplay." Tim didn't know how he managed to keep his voice even. He couldn't quite stop himself from blinking too many times. "Forgot I had it, I haven't worn it in--"

"Bullshit."

Tim flinched as the uniform made a loud thwack against the wall. Jack stalked closer, and Tim backed up, tripping over a broken picture frame. Jack pulled him back up by his shirt collar, and Tim had to force down the instinct to strike his attacker and break free.

"Robin, Timothy? What the hell do you think you're doing? At least if it was a gang, there's ways to get out of jail, but--"

"If... what?"

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you sneaking out of the house every night? For god's sake, how blind do you think I am?"

"I don't--"

"You explain to me, Timothy, you explain to me right the fuck now, what the hell were you thinking? Running around with a madman every night, getting into fights, and getting fucking shot at?"

Tim swallowed hard. "I think I'm helping people."

"'Helping people?'" Jack sneered. He kept walking, pushing Tim in front of him until Tim's back hit the wall. "How naïve are you, Tim? No, how stupid are you? Is that what Batman's been filling your head with?"

"I'm not naïve. And I'm not stupid. I'm saving lives." Under his breath, Tim added, "Some people call me a hero."

"I call you a goddamn idiot! So puffed up on the glory you can't fucking see that that... thing is just using you to give the freak club something else to shoot at. How long did you think you were gonna last, boy? The last Robin fucking died! You're just gonna throw your life away to save one drunk from another?"

Tim tried to blink away the sting behind his eyes. "Batman didn't want me to fight at all, let alone to use me. But I wanted to do something worthwhile, and if I do die--"

"You're sixteen, Timothy," Jack snapped, shoving Tim harder against the wall. "You will not say another word about dying or so help me--"

"Don't tell me you'd miss me," Tim hissed. "Be honest, Dad, you'd be glad if you never had to deal with me again!"

A burst of pain against Tim's cheek and his head whipped to the side. He was still frozen in shock when Jack grabbed his chin and forced them face to face again.

"Timothy Jackson, don't you ever speak to me that way again, do you understand me?"

Tim... Tim... slowly nodded, staring at his father's white face. His cheek was starting to throb. It would probably bruise.

Jack finally let him go and backed away, shoes crunching on several CD cases.

"Good. And this Robin nonsense ends now, do you hear me, Timothy? You're grounded indefinitely. You go to school, you come right the fuck back here and you do not leave this house until school again. If you ever try to sneak out again, I swear to god I'm going to take a belt to you. Count yourself damn lucky I'm not doing it now."

Jack was half out the door when Tim found his voice.

"No."

"No?"

Jack slowly turned around. His eyes were darker than Tim had ever seen them. Tim stepped away from the wall, fists clenched at his sides, and this time when Jack stalked closer, he stood his ground.

"No," he repeated. "I'm not going to stop being Robin."

"This is not a choice, Timothy. I am your father and you will obe--"

"No!"

This time it was Tim who stepped forward. His breath was coming fast, and his body felt hot and flushed.

"You don't get to call yourself that. Maybe you made me, but then you left me. You never once acted like a father unless it benefitted you, so don't expect me to give up the one thing that's ever made me feel worth something just because you say so!"

"You will never," Jack roared, spit flying, "go out at night and play superhero again!"

"I'd like to see you stop me."

Tim saw the shift in his father's eyes a second too late. An unnerving mixture of resolve and calculation piercing the pure rage.

And he didn't react in time.

Jack lunged, tackling Tim to the ground. Tim's head struck something hard, and by the time he blinked the stars away, Jack had turned him over, knee planted squarely between Tim's shoulder blades.

"You want me to stop you?" he muttered. "Fine. I'll stop you."

"Get off!"

Tim bucked, trying to throw Jack off, or get his hands planted to lever up. Jack dug his knee deeper into Tim's back, grabbing his wrists hard as he flailed. He wrenched Tim's arms behind him and shifted to pin them against his back. Tim grunted at the weight.

"You will learn to respect me, Timothy," Jack growled, accompanied by the jingle of a belt buckle. "And I don't care what I have to do to get through to you!"

"Newsflash," Tim snarled back, still squirming and kicking, looking around at the debris for a weapon, "if beating me worked, I'd have quit the first time I ran into the mob!"

"Dear god, boy, do you fucking hear yourself?"

Tim yelped as Jack yanked his wrists back even further, and froze for a fatal second when he felt leather wrapping around his upper arms. His heartbeat kicked up five gears as his father wrapped the belt around and around his arms, tying it off around his palms.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"If this is what it takes to protect you from your own idiocy--"

"FUCK you!"

Tim finally landed a kick against Jack's back. He grunted and toppled right, and Tim tried to roll left only to be blocked by the mattress. He scrambled to get his feet under him and stand, swaying for a few precious seconds before he could stumble towards the door.

He made it a quarter of the way before a sharp tug on his ankle felled him with a cry. Jack clawed his way closer, despite Tim's continued kicking.

"You... Will never... Go out... there... again!"

Tim's knee jabbed Jack's throat, making him gag, but he was too late. Jack had one hand fisted in Tim's hair. He jerked his head up, then backwards, slamming it into the dresser, and everything went dark.

Tim's head was pounding. His arms and shoulders ached, and the rest of his body felt stiff and sore. He lay on a hard floor, pitifully cushioned by... a blanket?

He opened his eyes, seeing nothing but a sliver of light just in front of him, coming underneath a door and illuminating a hardwood floor identical to the hallways in Drake Manor.

Oh.

Fuck.

Tim bowed his head against the ground, making the throbbing worse.

That had really happened.

His father had found out Tim was Robin, Tim was stupid enough to openly defy his order to stop, and... and Jack had attacked Tim, tied him up with his belt, and locked him in a closet.

Tim bit his lip, not sure if it was to stop a sob or a scream.

His dad was never supposed to know. Never, because Tim knew he would be livid, knew he would go completely off the rails.

Yet he'd never imagined something like this. Being kept prisoner in his own home under the excuse of protection.

How had it gotten so bad that Jack locking him up to 'keep him safe' was the only way he could show something like love?

Tim's eyes burned. He bit his lip and kicked at the door, then kicked it again, over and over until his toes were throbbing.

"Stupid," he hissed. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Yes, Dad. Whatever you want, Dad. I'll quit, Dad. Then wait for nightfall and go out anyway.

Then maybe he'd at least be tied up by somebody he could hate.

He shut that thought down, following it immediately with Robin's thoughts, with the process Bruce had drilled him on over and over and over again: what to do if you're captured.

Tim knew where he was, and that he was alone. He didn't know how close his d- captor was, or what his plan was. Keep Tim locked up until he broke? Even after? Forget he ever existed and then stumble on his corpse years later looking for spare linens?

Tim took a deep breath. That line of thought wouldn't help anything. The next step was to determine what was keeping him trapped, and how best to get out of it.

The belt was his most immediate problem. It was tight enough that his arms were starting to tingle. His fingers were already numb.

Tim closed his eyes and breathed, focusing on what he could still feel. The belt was actually fastened just above his elbows, with the tail wrapping around his forearms and hands until it knotted in his left palm. He picked at the knot with his fingers, hoping it was big enough and loose enough that he could pull it free.

It took longer than he wanted, but Tim did manage to untie the knot at his hands. The tension around his forearms slackened, and he was relieved by the sting of bloodflow coming back into his fingers.

Only, he could do nothing about the buckle. Tugging the belt's tail failed to do anything other than hurt his arms, and the blanket confounded any attempt to drag the loop against the ground. And not even Dick could have contorted himself to undo it with his hands.

And just like that, Tim was powerless again. The only answer Robin had was endure and wait for rescue or for a better opportunity.

So Tim waited in the dark, unsure how long it would take for anyone to realize he was missing. Unwilling to hope anyone would, because it only ever made his disappointment worse. Unable to turn off the memories of everything that had gone so wrong.

Uncaring to stop the tears streaming silently down his face.

By the fifth time Bruce checked his phone and set it back down with an anxious Hn, Dick had had enough.

"For the love of God, just call him!" he pleaded.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Tim never answers phone calls, you know this."

"He would for you!"

Bruce's next hum was considering. Dick waited for a short eternity before one of Bruce’s anxieties overrode the other, and he opened his phone to contacts.

After a minute of ringing, the line beeped and Tim's voice said, "Hey, you've reached Tim's cell. Please leave a message, or text if it's urgent."

Bruce sighed and hung up. His eyes slipped to the seat across from him. The empty one where a different boy would sit. Until he stopped answering his phone. Until he was too far away for help to reach him. Then too far for any force on earth to reach him.

Dick stood up.

"I'm going over to check on him," he said.

Bruce looked up at him and nodded silently. Dick didn't wait any longer before hurrying out the back door from the kitchen and starting across the lawn. Logically he knew getting a car or his bike would be faster, but he needed to move.

Speed-walking became jogging became running became sprinting, until he reached the wall between the properties and had to brace against it, breathing hard. He wished he could go up and over, climb in through a window, but with Tim's father around (for once) that would raise too many red flags. So he walked along the wall until it turned the corner and the driveway came into view.

Drake Manor was as imposing and forbidding as ever, too white and square and filled with priceless things to be anything but a museum. Certainly not a home. Dick didn't know how Tim could live alone there so long and not be insane.

He rang the doorbell, bouncing slightly on his heels while he waited. And waited. And rang again. And waited some more, worry building with every second. He was about to go around and find a window when finally footsteps beat towards the door and it swung open.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Jack Drake snapped, glaring.

Dick didn't like the look in his eyes. Fortunately, he was good at charming people he didn't trust.

"Hi, I'm Dick Grayson. My father owns the house next door? We took care of Tim while you were, ah, unable."

"And?"

Drake's expression shifted from outright hostile to wary, probably triggered by the aside to Bruce Wayne. Every so often Dick was glad to have a famous father.

"Well, traditionally, Thursdays are game night. I just came over to see if Tim was planning to come, since he hasn't been answering his phone."

"Timothy is grounded."

Dick blinked. "Grounded."

"Yes." Drake started to close the door. "Some other time, perhaps."

"Well, could I just say hi?" Dick tried, very nearly sticking his foot in the doorway.

"No."

And with that, the door shut and the lock clicked.

"Damn," Dick whispered.

He didn't like it. He couldn't pinpoint what exactly was setting him off, but there was an uncomfortable twist in his stomach, which only got worse as he turned back down the driveway.

Was it so impossible for Tim to be grounded? No. Dick loved the kid, but he was wild. He was reckless and independent and never quite knew when to shut up. All reasons Drake could have grounded him.

Taking away Tim's phone with the grounding also made some kind of sense, and Dick knew Drake didn't much like him or Bruce, so it wasn't surprising he'd shut Dick out, but...

The nagging feeling wouldn't go away, whispering over and over that he needed to see Tim safe or risk failing him the way he'd failed Jason. By not being there when his brother needed his help.

Dick waited until he was out of sight of the house, then doubled back around the side towards Tim's room. He climbed up the oak tree outside the window and dropped down onto the eaves to look inside.

Tim's room looked like a hurricane had hit it. There wasn't a single surface not littered with personal debris. Clothes, books, papers, CD cases, school supplies. The furniture had been yanked away from the walls, and the mattress was half off the bed frame.

The pit in Dick's stomach sank deeper.

He pulled open the window and slipped inside, consciously calming his breathing. He had to stare at the ground to avoid tripping on or breaking anything, and the view showed him that other people had not been so careful.

"Tim?" he called softly. "Are you here?"

He knew Tim wasn't. Tim wasn't a neat freak like Jason, but even he would never just leave his room in such a state. Dick could try to hope he was just... getting a trash bag or dust cloth, or, or in the bathroom. But then he saw an all-too-familiar shade of red.

Robin. Robin's suit just crumpled against the wall, and Dick could feel his heart speeding up because Tim would never treat his and Jason's legacy that way.

"Tim!"

Dick yanked open the door and started into the hall. He didn't much care if Jack Drake found him. In fact, he'd like to ask the man a few questions.

Timothy is grounded. No, you can't see him.

Was he trying to cover up that some villain had found out Tim's secret and kidnapped (not killed, not killed) him?

Or was he the reason Tim was nowhere to be seen?

"Tim, can you hear me?"

"What the hell?"

Jack Drake came storming up the stairs, face scarlet when he saw Dick.

"How the hell did you get up here? This is private property!"

"Where's Tim?"

"I'll call the police--"

"And explain to them why your son is missing and you're not doing anything about it?"

"What are you talking about?" Jack sneered.

"This!" Dick pointed to Tim's open door and the trashed room inside. "It's nothing short of a warzone, and Tim would have been right in the center of it! What are you hiding, Jack? Where is Tim?"

"My son is not your problem anymore. Leave. Now."

"Tim!" Dick hollered, staring Jack in the eyes and daring him to make a move. "Tim, if you're here, answer me!"

"Dick?"

The horrible twist in Dick's stomach finally relaxed, even as he narrowed his eyes at Jack.

"Dick, I'm here!"

Tim's cry was distant and muffled, but Dick could tell he was farther down the hall, behind Jack. Jack clenched his jaw and curled his hands into fists as he hissed, "Get. Out."

"I will fight you," Dick warned. "And I will win."

Jack yelled and threw a punch. Dick pivoted and let Jack's force carry him on, sweeping his legs out from under him with one kick. Jack snarled and tried to get up, but Dick pinned him with one foot against his back.

"If Tim has been hurt or violated because of you," Dick murmured, "I will make you pay for it, no matter what it does to me."

"Who the fuck do you think you are!?"

Dick leaned down, Jack grunting at the shifting weight, and whispered, "Well, if Tim is Robin..."

Jack went utterly still. He didn't move even when Dick let him go. Dick scoffed and turned back down the hall, running towards Tim's voice.

Tim kept yelling, "Here! Dick, I'm here!" and kicking the door until he could hear Dick just outside calling, "I got you, Tim, I got you!"

He stopped kicking and a minute later the lock clicked and the door swung open.

"Tim?"

"Down here," he sobbed.

Dick's knees folded to reveal his face. Tim had never seen it so tight and angry.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, voice incongruously soft with his expression. "Let's get you out of there."

He took hold of the blanket and backed up, sliding Tim out of the closet. He snarled when he saw the belt binding his arms.

"I'm sorry," Tim stammered, "I couldn't get it off--"

Dick shushed him, leaning over to fuss with the buckle. Tim bowed his head to rest it against Dick's knee, soaking his jeans with tears. He felt the tension give, and seconds later was swept into a bone-crushing embrace, Dick stroking his hair and whispering, "It's ok. It's gonna be ok."

"I didn't... I... How did you...?"

"You weren't answering your phone," Dick breathed. He pulled back, taking Tim's face in his hands and turning it side to side, then taking his arms and squeezing his hands to warm up his fingers. "We were so scared, baby bird."

"I'm ok," Tim tried, "really--"

But Dick was shaking his head.

"Tim," he said slowly, forcing Tim to meet his gaze. "Has your dad hurt you like this before?"

"It's for his own damn good!"

Tim jumped at his father's voice, shrinking behind Dick as he stood up, squaring off with Jack, fists clenched.

"He's a child, my child, and I refuse to let him out on those streets again."

"Tim hasn't been your child since you took that first flight to Cusco," Dick hissed.

Jack flinched.

"And if you hadn't given up your right to him then, you sure as hell did when you tied him up and locked him in a goddamn closet."

Dick reached down a hand to Tim, never breaking his stare as he pulled Tim to his feet and nudged him behind.

"I'm taking Tim home now."

"You can't just--"

"For his sake we'll give you the chance to sign over custody quietly."

Jack gawked, mouth hanging open despite the fury in the rest of his body. Tim shrank against Dick as he carefully led him around his father and down the hall, never letting go of his hand.

"You're gonna be ok," Dick promised again.

"Did you really mean--"

"I'll tell!"

Dick yanked Tim behind him again as he whirled to face Jack, recovered from his shock and with the same crafty look in his eyes that had ended with Tim bound and imprisoned.

"You take him away, I'll tell the whole city your secret!"

Tim's breath caught, but Dick squeezed his hand.

"Try it."

Jack's smugness faded to confusion. Even Tim glanced up at Dick anxiously, not knowing where he was going.

"Tell the whole city. See how many Rogues and mobs all come after you, asking how you found out and what else you know. See how long they'll bother to ask nicely. See how long it takes them to recognize Tim and go after you as bait. See if he saves you after everything you've done."

Tim shivered. When Jack's eyes slid to him, suddenly fearful, he wanted to throw up. He pressed even closer to Dick to steady himself.

After a minute of silence, Dick scoffed, "That's what I thought," and gently tugged Tim onward again, leaving Jack standing stupefied in the hall.

"Dick, I-"

"It's gonna be ok, Tim. We'll make sure he doesn't--"

"Did you mean it? About taking me back?"

Dick stopped and turned to him, putting his hands on Tim's shoulders and looking straight into his eyes.

"Tim, we never wanted you to go in the first place. Bruce was ready to adopt you outright before your father woke up." Dick tugged him into another tight embrace. "And you have always been my baby brother."

Tim blinked hard, but it still couldn't stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks.

"Oh, sweetheart," Dick sighed, brushing away the tears. "C'mon. Let's go home."

#whumptober 2022 #no. 1 #no. 27 #no. 29 #unconventional restraints #this wasn't supposed to happen #muffled screams #pushed to the limit #defiance #batman #fic #child abuse #tim drake #dick grayson #angst

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comfortwriting · 4 years ago

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Best Friends Brother Part 5 - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist

George Weasley x Fem Reader

Part 5 of my 'Best Friend's brother' series, Please Read Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4 if you haven't already.

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

Warnings: Swearing, Mention of food and eating.

Holding onto the photo album you opened it, expecting to see pictures but you were met with nothing but empty spaces.

"I've bought this for us," George said softly "I want us to fill this with pictures, we need to make up for the three months we've been together with no photographs to show for it."

You felt your heart enlarge and flush your body with warm blood, your veins pumping it throughout your body, getting high on the feeling of this happiness - this love.

"Oh, George..."

Hearing a door opening and footsteps up above, creaking down the stairs, your face and George's dropped.

"Hide!" He mouthed, snatching the photo album from you.

Quickly rolling off the sofa and crouching on the ground with your head staring at the floor, you quickly hid behind the chair Arthur would sit in when he wasn't messing around in his tool shed. The footsteps grew closer and closer, George hid the photo album under a pillow and the blanket and tried his best to appear awaking from a deep sleep.

Yawning and stretching, he looks over to his younger brother Ron, searing through the cupboards for some snacks.

"What are you doing up?" Ron whispered, noticing George from across the room.

"Could as you the same thing, mate." George shot back lowly.

"I'm hungry," Ron replied "What's your bloody excuse?"

"Fred won't shut up snoring," George rolled his eyes, "If you're looking for leftovers you'd be smart and check the fridge."

Ron mimicked George talking but looked in the fridge anyway, pulling out some strips of cooked bacon from earlier, stuffing it in his mouth as he wiped the grease on his pajamas.

You peeked out from the chair and watched, your heart thumped so hard you could hear it in your ears, what were you thinking?! You were being too risky, sharing glances and meeting up whilst everyone was sleeping - you'd be lucky to escape tonight without being noticed.

"Well, since I'm going back up you probably should too if you're that bloody tired."

"But Fred's snoring," George reminded him "I won't get any shut-eye all night."

Ron shrugged "Punch him in the nose or wake him up and get him to turn over."

Having no excuse to object, George had to comply, he slowly got up from the sofa, making sure not to accidentally drop the photo album, as he followed Ron up the stairs, mouthing a 'sorry!' to you on the way up.

Breaking out from the shadows, you tiptoed from behind the chair and retrieved your present from George, holding it close to your heart as you sneaked back into Ginny's room, making sure not to wake her or Hermione up.

The next morning, you and George were too tired to join in the regular morning banter across the kitchen table, but you both tired and put maximum effort in any way, but you were caught off guard whilst swallowing down some toast.

"Were you alright last night Y/N?" Hermione asked, sipping some orange juice.

You knitted your eyebrows together "Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

Hermione put down her glass, everyone else continued to eat and drink.

"Well," she sighed "I woke up during the night and you were there, you were gone for quite a while and I know that after Penny you..."

You choked on your toast, widening your eyes as Ron's glance quickly landed on you.

After Penny's death, you would wake up during the night and early hours of the morning and panic when Penny had not arrived from her hunt, you were so in denial about her death this became a bad habit for a little over a year.

Crying in the common room, you collapsed in front of the fire, waiting for your owl with hot tears streaming down your face, George walked in from a late-night prank and saw your head in your hands, hurrying to your side.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he held you close to him, pulling you away from the flames in case you fell forwards.

"I forgot she was gone," you sobbed "Penny, she's gone, and I keep thinking she's coming back."

"Oh, yeah!" you nodded "I haven't done that for a while, I think I must've forgotten again..." you trailed off, staring at your plate, feeling other eyes on you.

"But you've got that new low haven't you?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah," you smiled "he helps but he's only an owlet."

"Where did you get him anyway? He's beautiful." Ginny smiled, staring at him and his small feathers.

Think. Think.

"My mum and dad finally decided to get me him after months of desperate letters."

That's a good enough lie.

"Well, at least it wasn't because of someone snoring." Ron butted in, "Apparently you were at it all night, Fred."

Now it was George's time to choke.

"What?" Fred pulled a sour face, glaring at Ron "I don't snore! You can bloody ask Angelina!"

"Not according to George, he was sleeping down here you were that bad." Ron shuffled more food onto his plate.

Fred stared at his twin, pissed off that he lied about him without asking or telling him first.

Why is he lying? What is going on? Why would he need to sleep downstairs?

"Sorry mate," George smiled sheepishly "Didn't want to crumble your ego."

Everyone but Fred continued to eat their breakfasts, he started to go through everything that happened earlier on that seemed out of place - how could everyone push this aside despite that is going on?

"Well?" Asked Fred, staring at his younger brother who walked out of the owlery.

Ron shook his head with an annoyed expression on his face "She's not there" he replied.

"I wish you had that map, you know, you should nick it from him when he's sleeping."

"I would" replied Fred "but he clutches to it when he sleeps."

Throughout the day, Fred gravitated closer to Ron, whispering to him, warning him about you and George - how things don't add up, how something much more is going on. Ron denied it at first, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to find out the truth, even if it meant catching you both together.

"I'm telling you, there's something going on," Fred grumbled, helping Ron and with the garden Gnomes whilst you and George helped Arthur across the field.

"Well, how are we going to catch them?" Ron grumbled, soil getting in his hair, "Do you think she was down there with him last night?"

Fred fell back, his clothes now like Ron's hair, coated in soil. Brushing it off and kicking a gnome he sighed "Well, we'll just have to wait downstairs for them tonight."

"And what if we don't catch them?"

Fred hesitated for a moment "We'll keep trying until we do, we need to make Ginny and Hermione aware too - we won't be able to know if she's left the room unless they tell us."

Stepping out of the bath and drying yourself off, wrapping a towel around you, you leave the bathroom, and bump into George who was standing there the whole time, desperate to get a moment alone with you.

"Y/N, we need to talk, quickly - now."

Your cheeks went red and started to burn, George had never seen you in little clothing before, but you knew now wasn't the time for either of you to have stars in your eyes - George sounded urgent, and he was always laid back.

Following George into his room, he quickly shut the door behind him and pushed a chair against the door, if he did any magic he could count on his mum shouting at him to come downstairs at once.

"They're onto us," George freaked, sitting on the bed putting his head in his hands.

You sighed and sat next to him, gripping your towel in place with one hand, whilst stroking his hair with the other.

"We both knew this wasn't going to be easy," you chewed your lip nervously, "but that doesn't mean we can't get through it."

"What are we going to do?" George stopped pressing his eyes against his palms and looked into your eyes, his worried-filled ones boring into you "It's obvious we can't sneak downstairs."

You stayed quiet for a moment, shifting through your thoughts and ideas, "Well, we'll just have to meet up outside the house. We both leave and come back at different times, so you leave before me, and I'm back when you're already going to sleep."

"The sun doesn't go down here until very late out, it gets cold, and I don't want you to-"

Cutting George off, you went through his drawers, pulling out an oversized, fluffy hoodie.

"Freeze to death?" you smirked, throwing it to him "I'll wear this if you fetch it."

George swallowed hard, the windows of opportunities started to close one by one, and the finish line of your relationship started to get closer and closer, only making his heart more eager and desperate to claim you as his own.

"Tonight?" he asked softly "What time?"

Planting a small peck on George's head, you walked over to his bedroom door, "wait for my owl, when he goes out to hunt, that's when."

Slipping out of George's bedroom, you hurried into Ginny's searching through your trunk to find some clean clothes.

Just as you were going into Ginny's room, Ron, Fred, Ginny, and Hermione sat downstairs coming up with a plan to dismantle your happiness - Ron felt betrayed, and at this moment, he didn't care if you hated him afterward - you fell for his older brother, something you promised you would never do.

"Since when did you know my brothers?" Ron piped up, mouth full of food.

Hermione grimaced at him, packing away her study books "Ron! Swallow your food first, don't be so foul!"

You shrugged "In the Owlery, they're really nice-"

"No, they bloody are not!"

"Ron, relax, it's not like I fancy them-"

Ron shuffled "well, everyone else does, and you better not."

You raised your hands up in defense "I won't! I promise!"

taglist: @amourtentiaa @alwaysnforeverfangirl @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @carisi-sonny @g0ldenwanda @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @sebby-staan @xmalfoyweasleyx

#george weasley #george weasley one shot #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley imagine #Fred and George #fred weasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter angst #weasley twins #ron weasley #THE GOLDEN TRIO

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kookiesjoonies · 5 years ago

Text

where you belong | myg.

main pairing: idol!yoongi x wife!reader

fic type: one shot

word count: 3.3k

genre: fluff, smut

warnings: the beginnings of oral sex/shower sex, mentions of spitting, nipple play

summary: five vignettes of what being married to yoongi for over three years looks like.

a/n: me: i have the bladder of a squirrel, i’m always getting up to pee. lindy: write a fic like that. and so, i did. enjoy! let me know which vignette was your favorite! also i’ve tried to upload this fic eight million times but it never tags, so. i’m trying again and leaving it up whether it tags or not LOL.

April 12th, 2020. 3:04am.

It seemed like more often than not, you were waking up in the middle of the night with the desperate need to pee. You’d always had the bladder the size of a squirrel, making it difficult for you to get a full night of rest. Every two or four hours, you were awake and trudging your way to the bathroom.

You’d been laying in bed tossing and turning for an hour, trying to get comfortable but finding it more difficult than usual. Lying on your back wasn’t working, so you’d decided to try rolling over and onto your stomach. Which would have worked, except for the fact that you were now pressing on your bladder. With a heavy sigh and a groan, you shoved the covers off of your body and stood up from the bed.

Yoongi, your husband of nearly four years, had been trying his hardest to sleep all night long. But every time you moved or got up, you woke him up too. It was his turn to groan, a loud and frustrated sound that came up from his throat as he dragged the palms of his hands over his face.

“Y/n, please, for the love of God and my sanity, don’t get out of bed again.”

You considered hitting him over the head with a pillow, because did he really think you’d be constantly getting up like this if you could help it?

Your arms crossed over your chest as you peered down at the black haired man below you, “If I didn’t have to get up I wouldn’t, Yoongi.”

“Just squeeze the pee out, Christ.” He rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes.

He didn’t mean to sound hateful, but he was always such a grump when he was woken up. And you couldn’t really blame him, because you were the same exact way.

Still, it was the middle of the night, and you’d slept poorly so far. His attitude wasn’t helping, and you wanted nothing more than to be away from him.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes, albeit dramatically, and made your way out of your master bedroom and down the stairs.

You’d decided to use the powder room off the living room, and sleep on the couch afterwards. If Yoongi wanted peace that badly, you’d give it to him.

Yoongi hadn’t even realized he’d dozed off again. And when he woke up, feeling slightly more rested than usual, he immediately grew suspicious. His eyes fell on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand that read 7:14 a.m.

He sighed, relieved. It was his day off, and he was glad he could stay at home and sleep in. And spend the morning with you wrapped up in his arms. He rolled over to pull your body closer to his, cocking an eyebrow when he realized your side of the bed was empty and he’d just been greeted with cold sheets.

Maybe you’d gotten up to go to the bathroom, he thought. He’d given you a few moments to return, and when you didn’t, he huffed and tossed the blankets covering the lower half of his body aside.

He decided to go searching for you, starting in your en-suite bathroom. His eyes scanned the decently sized room, frowning when there was no sign of you. It was still too early for you to willingly be awake, and he knew that, so his next plan of action was to search the kitchen. You were terrible for drinking sodas all throughout the night, which might’ve explained why you were always making trips to the bathroom.

Yoongi didn’t even make it into the kitchen before he saw you sleeping peacefully on the couch, curled up into a fetal position and emitting tiny snores every few seconds.

He cracked a smile at the sight, but then went to roll his eyes at you.

“Baby,” he whispered, crouching down beside of you to gently shake you awake, “come on, come back to bed.”

The sound of your husband’s sleepy voice pulled you out of your state of unconsciousness, “What time is it?”

“A little past seven.” His hand reached forward to lightly stroke at your frizzed up hair, and you couldn’t help but to lean into his sweet touch.

“But you said you didn’t want me up there.”

“Uhm, no I did not.” Yoongi was quick to be defensive, “I said for you not to get out of bed again, were my exact words. I didn’t mean for you to come down here to sleep.”

“Well, as long as I’m here, you won’t have to worry about it. Just go back to sleep.” Even in your half asleep state, you couldn’t help but to argue.

If he didn’t love you so much, he probably would’ve let you have your way. Let you sulk and pout on the couch while he slept soundly upstairs, but he couldn’t do that.

“Dude, you’re so dramatic.” He sighed, scooping your limp body up and into his arms.

You shrieked as he did so, your eyes springing open immediately.

“Yoongs! What are you doing?”

“Taking your ass back to bed where you belong.” He began his ascend with you up the staircase, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Can you take me to the bathroom first? I have to pee.”

“Of course you do.”

April 18th, 2020. 2:53pm.

Lazy Saturdays with Yoongi were few and far between, but when they did happen, they were your favorite.

There were plenty of chores that needed to be done, plenty of projects outside that needed to be started, and yet the two of you had been planted on the sofa since you’d woken up.

You were lying down with your legs in Yoongi’s lap, watching the cooking channel. And he had his feet propped up on the glass coffee table thumbing through a nonfiction novel. The sunshine poured through the narrow window panes, the scent of the coffee you’d brewed earlier still lingering. Holly was lounging on his bed beside of the fireplace on his back, snoozing with his paws in the air.

“He looks comfortable.” You nodded your head in Holly’s direction, causing Yoongi to look up from his book.

He chuckled lowly, “He’s got it made. He lives in this big house with no responsibilities. All he does is eat and sleep.”

“I mean,” you started, “that’s all I do too, really.”

Yoongi nodded, tapping his fingertips against your kneecap.

“And as long as I can help it, that’s all you’ll have to do. You took care of me for so long, it’s my turn.”

“You spoil me, Min Yoongi.” You couldn’t stop the smile that cracked its way onto your face.

At the minute, you were enrolled in university and only had another year or so before you’d be graduating. You had every intention of working once you were out of school, but you couldn’t lie, it was nice to know that if you didn’t want to, you didn’t have to. You’d been with Yoongi for so long— since before his debut with BTS.

He’d always promised you that one day he’d be able to provide for you fully, and now, he was doing that tenfold. The two of you were well off now, but in the end, that didn’t really matter. He could be a billionaire, or have one penny to call his own, and you’d still love him all the same.

“Yes, I do spoil you. And I intend to keep doing so, Min Y/n.” He’d abandoned his book, letting it lie on the armrest beside of him.

He lifted one of your legs, pressing tiny pecks against the skin of your calf muscle. You giggled at the tickling feeling, your laughter coming to a quick halt as insecurity suddenly took over. Jerking your leg from his grasp, Yoongi cocked a dark brow at the action.

“I haven’t shaved in like, a month, Yoongs.”

“Are you kidding me?” his eyes rolled and he reached for your leg again, “you know I don’t care about that shit.”

“Yeah, I know. But I do.” You frowned.

“Too bad.” He changed his position so that he was lying in between your legs now, his lips trailing from your knee to the top of your thigh.

“What are you doing?” You bit down on your lower lip to take it in between your teeth, your fingers instinctively curling into your husband’s dark strands of hair.

“Showing you how much I don’t give a shit about some damn leg hair.”

He sucked a purple bruise into your skin, and you couldn’t fight back the moan that left your lips.

Yoongi was quick to push your shorts to the side, his tongue dragging along the folds of your cunt over your cotton panties. The feeling of his teasing had you whimpering, and you were begging for him to give you more— to which he happily complied.

April 30th, 2020. 10:19am.

In theory, Yoongi having a week off from work should be amazing. Your time spent together should be filled with romance, sex, home cooked meals and stereotypical couple shit. Most importantly, the two of you should be over the moon that you were getting such quality time together. And you were... mostly.

But he’d been home for five days already, and you were silently wishing he’d visit the studio at least once— and he was silently wishing you’d take a night to go out with friends. You weren’t used to being in each other’s company for long, thanks to what your husband did for a living, so whenever he had more than a few days home at a time it was always an adjustment.

Yoongi had only been awake for a total of five minutes and you’d already found a way to annoy him, without him having to even lay eyes on you.

He was at the sink, about to brush his teeth when he noticed the cap sitting beside of the toothpaste. He was sure that one day, he would roll his eyes at you so hard that they’d get stuck in the back of his head.

With a huff, he deposited a decent amount of the toothpaste onto his toothbrush and ran water over it before putting it into his mouth. You walked into the bathroom then, your eyes half open as you made your way over to the toilet to pee. Ah, romance at its finest.

“Dude,” Yoongi said, spitting into the sink after he was finished brushing, “why don’t you put the cap back onto the tube of toothpaste?”

You scowled, thinking that he should know damn well you didn’t like to be spoken to before you’d had your caffeine.

“I’ll do that when you start rinsing the sink out and quit leaving your nasty spit in it!”

“My nasty spit?” he scoffed, “I’m sorry who was the one begging me to, and I quote, spit in your mouth, two days ago?”

“Bite me, Min Yoongi.”

You flushed the toilet and bumped his hip with your own to push him out of the way, rubbing soap onto your hands and washing them. It was going to be a long day.

By noon, you were ready to fully divorce him and kick him out of the house.

“Yoongi!” You yelled, standing by the laundry basket in your bedroom with your arms crossed over your chest.

His feet carried him swiftly up the stairs as he feared something was wrong, stopping abruptly in his tracks when he saw the way you were staring daggers through him.

“Jesus,” he sighed, “what did I do now?”

You pointed harshly at the pile of dirty clothes next to the hamper, causing the taller man to internally groan at the lecture he knew was coming.

“Two more inches and the clothes would be in the basket. What is so hard about that? Do you live to piss me off? Is that what it is?” You scolded, barely taking a breath between your sentences.

“Mhm,” he nodded, “my only goal in life.”

You were fuming. How could he be such an ass? Throwing your hands up, you moved past him and out of the bedroom.

“Pick them up, or we’re getting a divorce.”

He chuckled, “Whatever you say.”

“Ever heard the term ‘happy wife, happy life?’”

He took short strides forward over to the clothes he’d previously discarded and picked them up, “Nope.”

“Well then,” you watched as he tossed the clothes into their rightful place of the laundry hamper, “I suggest you get familiar with it.”

By the time dinner was over, you’d made promises to take him to divorce court the very next day. He’d placed a single dirty spoon into a sink empty of dishes, and you suddenly understood why so many wives offed their husbands.

May 9th, 2020. 11:05am.

You were late— so fucking late, and you prayed that your mother wouldn’t completely disown you. The two of you’d made plans to meet up for breakfast at 10:30, but you’d just now gotten into the shower. She would never let you live this down. You were always late for everything though, so really, what did she expect?

Washing your hair would’ve taken up too much time, so you’d opted for a quick, ten minute shower and decided that a messy bun would do for the day. You were in the middle of washing your face when you heard the glass door of the shower rattle, alerting you to your husbands newfound presence.

“Morning.” His arms wrapped tightly around your waist from behind, and he began to press light kisses to the side of your neck.

You smiled at the feeling, tilting your head to the side to give him a bit more access.

“Good morning.” You rinsed off your face wash, carefully avoiding your hair and trying your hardest not to get it wet.

Yoongi’s hands found your hips as he pressed his half hardened length against your ass, causing you to moan at the feeling.

“Yoongs, I have to go soon. No funny business. I’m already late.” You tried to protest, but the feeling of his hand traveling down to spread your legs made you whine.

“So? You’re always late. Let me give you a good reason to be, at least.”

His teeth nibbled on your earlobe, all the while his pointer and middle finger had begun to circle over your clit.

Your head dropped back into the crook of his neck at the feeling, and you groaned.

“Fine, fine. But no foreplay, as much as it pains me to say that. Make me cum, then I gotta go.”

“Damn,” he laughed, “you really know how to seduce a guy, you know that?”

“Shut up.” You couldn’t help but to giggle in response, your lips finding his for just a quick second before he had you bent over in front of him.

“If your mom asks, just tell her we were practicing to give her grandchildren.”

The loud smack of his hand coming down against the bare skin of your ass echoed in the room, and you groaned— both because of the stinging sensation his hand caused, and because of his words. Leave it to your husband to say stupid shit like that before he was about to rail you.

Your breakfast date with your mom turned into brunch, and a very uncomfortable one at that. Yoongi had been ruthless with spanking you, and you were now sporting sore spots and welts that made it difficult to sit.

Even though your mom kept asking why you couldn’t seem to sit still and was constantly scolding you for being late, you decided that it was so fucking worth it.

May 20th, 2020. 8:45pm.

It wasn’t even nine and you and Yoongi were already in bed. He was scrolling on his phone beside of you, and you were watching makeup tutorials on the television hung in front of your bed.

You yawned, shifting your attention to your husband and knocking his phone out of his hand, just for the hell of it.

“What the fuck was that for?!” He sounded surprised, and you couldn’t help but to laugh.

“I dunno.” You shrugged, gently kicking his leg with your foot.

“Oh, so that’s the game we’re playing now?” He stared over at you, his lips curving into a wry smirk.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby doll.”

He was on top of you in an instant, straddling your legs as he tickled you. You erupted into an immediate series of giggles, your body squirming underneath him.

“Yoongi!” You squealed, attempting to push his hands away, but it was no use— he had you pinned and completely at his mercy.

“Bet you regret annoying me now, huh?” He asked, his own laughter bellowing out.

“Yes! Yes! Okay, okay! You can stop!” You were nearly out of breath from how hard you were laughing, and Yoongi was sure you’d never looked more stunning.

Your hair was wet from the shower you’d just taken, no makeup on, and you were wearing that damn tattered, worn out T-shirt that you loved so much. You were the very definition of beauty to him, the sight of your toothy smile and sound of your loud laughter only making that fact more and more evident to him.

His tickle assault on your body ceased, and the two of you attempted to catch your breath.

“I’m in love with you, you know that?” Yoongi’s position had changed, and he was now hovering over you and pressing his lips to your jawline.

“I know. And I love you.” You reveled in the feeling, enjoying the familiar comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

“Let me show you how much.”

Before you could protest (not that you actually would), he was making his way down south. He’d bunched your shirt up, letting it rest just above your breasts. He was practically salivating at the sight of your bare chest. You’d been married for so long, and he’d seen you naked more times than he could count, and the sight of your body still amazed him every time.

He pulled a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Your fingers carded into his hair, your back arching up and off of the mattress as you pressed into him.

“Yoongs,” you sighed, marveling in the feeling of him palming your other tit with his hand.

He always took his time when it came to your chest, and he always made sure they were bruised and reddened by the time he was done with them. And you had zero complaints with that fact.

After he’d abused your pebbled buds to his satisfaction, he moved to leave a line of wet kisses down your stomach.

When his lips came into contact with cotton fabric just above your belly button, he pulled back with a confused expression adorning his features.

“Granny panties? Really?” He chuckled, pulling at the hem of them and letting it snap against your skin.

You yelped, batting his hand away.

“Shut up, they’re comfortable.”

“I never thought granny panties could look so sexy.” He wiggled his brows, and you rolled your eyes.

“Gotta say, though,” he said, pulling them down your legs, “I think they’d look sexier on the floor.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You laughed, kicking your underwear off of your feet.

“Maybe,” he grinned, his lips quickly finding their way to the insides of your thighs, “but you love me.”

“More than you could ever know, Yoongs,” you smiled, suddenly very aware that the most amazing man in the world was yours, and yours alone, “‘more than you could ever know.”

*do NOT reupload/repost on any site, translate without my permission, or claim as your own.

#bts #bts smut #yoongi #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi imagine #bts imagine #bts fluff #yoongi fluff #seokjin #namjoon #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook

1K notes · View notes

igotyouniverse · 5 years ago

Text

Breathe Me - Chapter 2 [nct vamp au]

Description: After dropping out of college and coming home for the first time in two years, 22-year-old Ava Lee gets caught up in a mystery surrounding the people she thought she knew for so long. Between friendship, affairs and true love the young women finds herself being pulled into a nightmare she would never wake up from.

Pairing: Oc x Taeyong , Oc x Johnny [side: markxoc, tenxoc, lucasxoc, jaehyunxoc]

Included Members: Taeyong, Johnny, Mark, Lucas, Ten, Jaehyun, Doyoung, Haechan (maybe more)

Genre: Drama, Romance, Angst, Fantasy

Warnings: some swearing I guess and some umm angst (this chapter)

suggestive content, strong language, violence, blood, death. probably more, not sure yet (later chapters)

a/n: yeah who doesn't like awkward encounters in cafés and bookstores? Plus an awkward party with a big surprise? Sign me up. Anyway, that's the second chapter for this baby. I got carried away a lot, so it turned out a lot longer than expected but I honestly didn't want to split it up. A lot is happening! I'm honestly so excited for the third one as the main plot will start there and let me tell you – it will go WILD, haha. Enjoy ♥

ch. 1 || ch. 3

･.｡*†*｡.･◆･.｡*†*｡.･◆･.｡*†*｡.･◆･.｡*†*｡.･

“Oh, hey Ava. Haven't seen you in forever. How are you? That's exactly what he said.”, Ava told her best friend while savouring her freshly baked croissant.

Yunmi sighed and took another sip form her third coffee. “I mean you actually didn't see him in nearly three years.”

Ava shot her friend a glance and snorted. “Yeah, well, that's not my bad. He decided to completely ignore me for no reason at all.”

“Yeah, because he's a jerk. That's a fact.”, Yunmi said with a smile, trying to comfort her friend.

“Totally.”

“A handsome jerk, tho.”, Ava added and drank a sip of her water, trying to avoid her friend's gaze.

“Yup, we all got eyes. But I still don't get it. I mean you two didn't even hook up, did you?”, she felt Yunmi's eyes staring holes in her body.

“No, I've told you a hundred times. We just kissed. I think I'd remember if I hooked up with fucking Johnny Suh.”, Ava sighed with frustration in her voice. Of course she thought Johnny was attractive. Well, not only attractive. It was like she was just drawn to his simple presence. Not to mention, that he was funny, smart, caring and overall just a good person. Or that's what she thought before he decided to just erase her out of his life.

She just couldn't get a hang of it. The memories she had of that night were just magnificient. The farewell party was fun and chill. Everyone enjoyed themselves while dancing or just having drinks. She wasn't even that buzzed, especially not in the moment she remembered so clearly it even felt a little surreal sometimes. But she could remember so clearly how she talked to Johnny for hours about everything. It wasn't the typical smalltalk they usually had – she told him about her worries for university, her feelings about this god forsaken town and even managed to tell him that he crushed on him for years, not having the balls to ask him out. Him being the best friend of her brother didn't make the whole situation easier, though.

And then, just like in all these movies she binge-watched with Yunmi he actually kissed her. And not like a friend, no, she remembered his lips on hers so clearly. The softness of them and how perfectly fit on hers like they were just meant to be. Yet, it felt like a dream sometimes. She felt how much passion the kiss had, it was breathtaking, like a sweet drug she couldn't get enough from and yes, she absolutely would've slept with him but she knew that he was a gentleman. They just chuckled at each other before he brought her home, promising to call the next day before her flight would take off.

But that never happened.

“Maybe you should try talking to him? Like face-to-face. You won't be able to avoid him forever, especially because of Mark.”, Yunmi said and tried to read her friends emotions but Ava just chuckled.

“Watch me.”

The café Yunmi picked out was next to the bookstore Mark worked at. Ava remembered how the spot was always closed and under construction but apparently it opened a few months ago. The style was simple and comfy. It was a light store with paintings on the walls and different types of plants everywhere. Huge windows allowed a view over the main street and the small park right in the middle. It seemed oddly familiar to Ava, even though she never set a foot in this building. But something just felt like she's been there before but she couldn't figure it out.

“I need more coffee.”, Yunmi said and pouted looking at her empty cup.

“Dude, that was your third coffee.” Ava laughed and looked at her friend, with just a tint of worry in her eyes.

“Happens when you work as a nurse. Night shifts are just so tiring here. Nothing happens anyway but I wasn't able to take a nap because I had to do all these papers.”, she said annoyed and pouted at Ava, holding up her empty cup.

The girl sighed and smiled, standing up to get her friend her needed refill.

Ava went up to the empty counter and looked for the young waiter she saw earlier but to her surprise another young man came out, looking at her with warm eyes.

“Can I get a refill please?”, she asked politely and handed the guy the cup after he nodded. His eyes focused on her for just a second, but for her it felt longer. Did she know him? His hair was dyed in a ashy-blonde color, hair framing his delicate facial features. His eyes looked warm yet they had something deep and maybe even dark about them. The way he moved looked elegant. She eyed him just for a second longer, trying hardly to think why he looked so familiar. She even felt like she somewhat heard his voice before. She squinted her eyes trying to take a look at his name tag but apparently he didn't even wear one.

“Here. Do you need something else?”, he asked.

Ava froze for a split second, realized how impolite it was to stare at a person as bluntly as she did.

“No, thank you. I really like the place, though. It's pretty.”, she smiled lightly and took the cup.

The guy thanked her, his face lightened up, a smile appearing on his face, which made her feel warm all of a sudden. Why did his smile see so familiar?

She hurried back to the table her friend was sitting, giving her her desperately needed caffeine.

“Who's the guy at the counter?”, Ava asked.

Yunmi immediately turned around to take a look at who her friend meant.

“Taeyong. He owns this place.”

After Ava stayed silent, not quite sure if she knew him or not, Yunmi added,

“He lives together with Johnny and Jaehyun in that house. We met him there once, don't you remember?”, Yunmi asked and raised a brow.

“I don't know. I guess? You know how bad my memory is.”, Ava chuckled and stared at her glass of water before giving her friend a smile.

Honestly, she wasn't sure if she remembered. Maybe she did meet him back then. Maybe not.

“He's cute, isn't he? He even makes the pastries himself.”, Yunmi said and took a bit of her sandwich after inhaling her coffee.

“Yeah, he is nice, I guess.”, Ava said, looking over at the counter where Taeyong stood. She saw how his eyes met hers, holding the eye-contact for just a bit before he turned around and went to the back.

Weird.

“There will be a party tonight at their house.” Yunmi said, eyeing her friend once more. After Ava didn't answer right away Yunmi sighed.

“We should go. It will be fun.” she added.

“Since when do you want to go parties?”, Ava asked her friend, raising her brow. As long as she remembered Yunmi and her weren't the type of girls who went to parties. They usually preferred a good movie night with food over drinks and bad music. Even in college, Ava didn't attend many of those famous college parties she heard about.

“Their parties are usually really nice.”, she smiled softly and started to play with a strand of her brown hair.

“Mh-mh. Their parties or just someone at their parties?”, Ava teased her friend, poking her cheek.

Yunmi pouted a light shade of red on her cheeks. She caught her.

“Well, you won't know if you don't join.”, Yunmi poked out her tongue at Ava, laughing softly at her.

“Fine. But if I see Johnny I'll leave.”, Ava said firmly and looked at her hands for a second. She really didn't want to attend another party where he was after the last time, even if it was years ago.

“He lives there, genius. Of course he will be there. But it will be fun, I promise. Maybe you could even use the chance to talk to-”

A glance of Ava cut her friends words off, holding her hands up in defeat.

“Fine. Or ignore him. Just come with me. I'll introduce you to some cool people, okay?”

The girl groaned until she gave in.

“Okay. I will be there. Mark probably wants to go too, anyway.”, Ava said and rummaged in her bag, trying to find her phone.

“Probably.”, Yunmi answered, seemingly uninterested if the boy would join them or not.

“Mh, can't find my phone.”, Ava muttered, unable to find anything in her bag anyway.

“Well, the bookstore is right next-door, I'll just ask him there. I think he's working.”, she looked to her best friend who seemed to have spaced out for a second.

“You join me?”, she asked, touching Yunmis hand for a second. Her best friend shook her head, smiling at her.

“No no, I need to take a nap and a shower before the party. Just, um, say hello from me, will you?”, Yunmi stood up, taking her jacket over her arm, helping to put the empty plates and cups on the empty counter.

“Yeah, sure. See you then.”, Ava said putting the rest of the plates on the counter, a bit surprised about the sudden haste her friend was in.

She sighed taking a look around the café once more before leaving it for the day. Ava tried her best to not overthink the whole situation and slowly walked to the next door on the street, leading into the small bookstore her younger brother worked at.

She strolled through the filled shelves, inhaling the magnificent scent of all the bound books walking up to her most favourite isle – old classics. Her fingers trailed over the spines, feeling their different textures. She used to read a lot, every week a new book in her hand, ready to savour it in just one sitting. Back then, it felt easy to just sit down, a book in her hands and shutting the world out completely, focusing only on the words forming these beautiful pictures inside her head, making all these thoughts haunting her in real life go away just like that. When did she lose this talent? Nowadays, she just couldn't get herself to actually read a book. She continues to buy them, placing them prominently on her nightstand, in hopes for her to just grab it in the evening but the pile of books just grew bigger and bigger over the weeks until she finally stopped to even buy them. She hoped to get back into her once most loved hobby. Even if it was just for a few minutes.

“Hey, didn't expect you to visit me.”, she heard Mark saying and turned around, a big smile on her lips.

“I wanted to surprise you, I've actually met with Yunmi. We had breakfast in the café next door.”, Ava answered and looked at her brother. She chuckled mildly. He looked so grown-up and mature in his plain black shirt with his round glasses on, his dark hair falling into his face. She realized how different he looked from the last time she saw him. Unbelievable that he was already 20 years old.

“Oh-Uh, yeah it opened up a few weeks ago. The owner is Jaehyun and Johnny's roommate.”, Mark said after he scratched the nape of his neck. “H-How's Yunmi? She alright?”, he asked casually while sorting a book from his hand into the shelv.

“Yeah, I guess. She said hello but had to rush home.”, Ava answered, shrugging her shoulders.

She eyed her brother and how he fumbled with the hem of his shirt, he seemed to want to say something but decided not to.

“Anyway.”, he exhaled loudly and cleared his throat before smiling at Ava. “I'm happy you're visiting. Want me to show you around? I mean you technically know it, though.”, her brother chuckled.

But as the good sister she is she nodded and let her brother show her all the different types of book they had and which authors occasionally came to give a reading. Seeing his eyes lighten up just by the name of these authors made her heart melt. He explained passionately the several differences in their writing techniques and why they were his favourites. He told her how he fell in love with classic literature, especially romance and tragedy.

Ava listened to him swooning over different works and their means to past society, yet he even read modern novels. She looked at all the books, most of them she already read by herself when she was younger. She felt proud seeing him glowing up, doing what he loved without hiding.

“I just hope I'll be half as good as them.”, she heard her brother sighing when he put down the last book.

Ava put a hand on his slim shoulder and smiled at him warmly.

“I’m sure you will be. Trust me, I will be your biggest fan!”, she laughed and ruffled his hair, making him scrunch his nose before trying to fix his hair.

“Please. I appreciate the encouragement but it's still a long way. Plus mom and dad are still not very fond of the idea of me becoming an author. They think it's still a phase and that I will soon realize it's stupid and become a doctor like – well.”, he shrugged his shoulders before speaking out his thoughts.

Ava bit her lip. “I will tell them.”, she said, not believing her answer.

“When will you, though? I mean, I'm not pressuring you. I get it, it's hard but don't you think it will be even harder the longer it lasts? They're not stupid.”, Mark said looking at his sister, his eyes were filled with worry.

“I know. I'm just – imagine their disappointment. I need a plan, you know?”, she muttered, trying to avoid his gaze. She felt guilty for lying but she would feel even worse seeing the disappointment in her parents eyes when they realize she wasn't that perfect daughter they saw her as.

“Promise me you'll figure something out, okay? It's not healthy.”, he said, looking up when he heard the door open.

“Yes, I promise. Just give me some more time, will you?”, she pleaded at him, pouting as best as she possibly could.

“Sure.”, he rolled his eyes, sighing deeply before he put on a smile and waved at the new customer.

Ava turned around and saw two young men walking in.

“Hey guys, what are you doing here?”, Mark said and smiled, walking up to his friends.

Ava just sighed, silently asking the universe why it made life for her that hard.

“Hi.”, she just briefly said, trying not to look directly into Johnny's eyes. She even managed to ignore him and just gave Jaehyun a smile which he joined.

“Long time no see. You look good.”, Jaehyun said and brushed his hand briefly at her arm.

Ava chuckled, putting a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks.”

She felt Johnny looking at her standing next to Jaehyun, eyeing both of them. Just like she wanted him to do.

“We're actually looking for books for the café. Taeyong wants to have some more for visitors to read.”, Johnny said after clearing his throat. Ava's eyes wandered to Johnny's just for a quick second but she already found herself being mesmerized by his presence once again. She liked the way he wore his black hair, the strands falling into his face just perfectly. Her gaze locked at his lips while he spoke with Mark about the books Taeyong wanted and even though the name still rang a bell in the back of her head she couldn't free herself from the way Johnny's lips moved. She knew how soft they felt, recognizing the feeling just too well.

Her thoughts moved back to that night like they always did and the urge to confront him about why he decided to let her hang like that grew stronger. She knew that it would probably was just a kiss for most people but for her it felt so differently. It was romantic and intimate, just how she imagined kissing him over and over again when she was younger. Plus, him declaring his feelings for her made that memory even more perfect. Yet, it all shattered when he ignored her.

She felt a hand on her back and then a breath at her ear, before Jaeyhun whispered

“You good?”

She felt the grin on his face when she rolled her eyes and nodded.

For a split second she saw how Johnny turned his head towards her, looking away just another second later, continuing to talk to Mark.

“Will you be at our place tonight?”, Jaehyun asked, not moving his hand from her back.

“I guess so. Yunmi asked me, too.”, Ava smiled at Jaehyun, wordlessly thanking him.

“Well, you can't say no now. I'd be happy if you came.”, he smiled at her paired with a short wink before laughing with her.

She heard Johnny clearing his throat and looked up to him.

“Anyway, we should head back to the café or Taeyong will be mad at us for leaving him alone for too long.”, he said while taking books off Mark's arms he seemed to have collected for them.

“Sure.”, Jaehyun said and smiled at the others, before looking down at Ava again. “See you tonight then, can't wait.”, he said, stroking her back slightly before leaving behind Johnny.

Ava felt her brother's piercing gaze on her back while she tried to look away, shrugging her shoulders.

“Stop staring at me like that.”, she hissed at Mark and rolled her eyes. She finally looked at him but he just shook his head, wanting to say something but all he did was open his mouth for a second before closing it again, raising both of his hands.

“None of my business.”

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Ava's head felt already heavy without any alcohol in it. She stared at the dark street in front of her, trying to concentrate on driving the car her parents gladly allowed them to use to drive to the party. Of course, she didn't even want to drink. She didn't even want to attend the party at all but she had to admit that she was curious – curious about how the people had changed, curious about how they'd behave and obviously curious about certain of these people whose names she didn't want to think about again.

Even when the last time she visited the house was three years ago she remembered the way so clearly as if she'd just was there yesterday. She took a glance at Mark who was sitting next to hear, looking out of his window, seemingly way up in his own thoughts she wished to read.

Ava sighed quietly, focusing her eyes on the street. She felt anxious about meeting all these people. No one knew about her not so graceful career, still thinking she studied medicine on some ivy league college back in the city everyone dreamed of living. The thought of them asking all these questions she already had to answer her parents made her shiver. Maybe she should just hide in a closet until Mark wanted to go back home. Would be smarter than awkwardly running into someone again – once a day is enough.

Yet she took hours to get ready, carefully picking out an outfit, lipstick and the way she wore her hair, trying to look casual but not too casual. The chance of running into him was just too high for her to not try to make herself look presentable.

The street got more narrow, leading into the woods where the house was.

“I still don't get why they're living in the woods.”, she sighed and looked at Mark for a second before driving on the long gateway leading to the house.

“Taeyong inherited it from his grandma or something.”, Mark answered, waking up from his thoughts.

Ava just nodded, already seeing some more cars and people standing outside. She couldn't see enough to look at their faces. The girl quickly parked the vehicle and stretched her arms once she got out, looking around. The late summer air was still warm and comfortable yet one could sense the upcoming autumn as some leaves slowly turned darker.

The siblings walked down the path leading to the entrance, which led to a huge front yard. It was lighted with small paper lamps, showing off some of the landscaping done. She even heard a fountain splashing somewhere. She looked around, not quite sure if she'd remember the place at all. The house was surrounded by a traditional stone fence and she wondered how old it was. Ava could already hear the people enjoying themselves, with loud music pounding in her ear.

From what she saw through the darkness and the sparse light the house itself looked huge enough to probably fit a hundred people. The door was left open, shoes flooding the entrance area.

After bumping into dozens of people greeting her, smiling and waving she helplessly looked at Mark who was still right behind her looking for someone.

“You made it!”, Ava heard Yunmi screaming in her hear, an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss on her cheek. Ava could smell a note of alcohol in her friend's breath and chuckled.

“How much did you already drink?”, she asked but Yunmi waved her off, her gaze meeting Mark.

“Oh hi Mark. Nice to see you, how are you?”, she asked politely while resting her head on Ava's shoulder.

“Uhm, I'm good thanks. And you?”, he scratched is neck, looking away, probably trying to find his own friends.

“Life's great.”, she answered and laughed, removing her head from her friend's shoulder to take a sip from her cup, shaking it in front of Ava's face.

“Want something? I can totally mix you a drink.”

“No, thanks. I don't drink.”, she answered and smiled apologetic.

“I'm gonna look for Johnny. Hit me up when you want to go home, alright?”, Mark said and disappeared in the moving crowd of people.

“I take it you don't want to look for Johnny?”, Yunmi asked her friend, directly looking at her, rolling her eyes when Ava shook her head.

“Nope. So, who are these cool people you wanted me to get to know?”, Ava smiled.

Yunmi entangled her fingers with hers and dragged her through the crowd, brabbling something about a girl and a boy.

Not long after Ava spotted to semi-familiar people her friend shouted at. A girl with a black long bob smiled warmly and waved.

The boy, a bit shorter than her, with short black hair smiled and greeted her. “Ava, you must remember Ten and Sunhyung, right? We went to Highschool together.”, Yunmi introduced them but Ava wasn't exactly sure who they were. She barely remembered anyone from Highscool, though. At least not their names.

“We were in another class, though.”, Sunhyung chuckled.

“Nice to meet you. So what are you guys doing?”, Ava asked them.

“Well, we're actually officers right now. Ten is my partner.”, Sunhyung explained and smiled at Ten, who just nodded and raised his cup.

“Not on duty tonight, though.”, he winked and exed the rest of the liquid.

“Yunmi told me you're studying medicine? Pretty cool. How's life in the States? This town must bore you to death.”, Sunhyung chuckled and looked at her cup, seemingly disappointed that it was empty.

“I'm actually enjoying it. It's like a vacation.”, Ava answered and hoped no one would ask her to further elaborate on her studies, which weren't even real.

“I'd give everything to travel to a real city. The only “crimescenes” we're looking at are rather boring. It's mostly just noise disturbance or someone's speeding who isn't from here.”, Sunhyung rolled her eyes.

“Hey, last week we had one burglary!”, Ten protested.

“You mean the sixteen-year-old boy who stole some Vodka from the store? How exciting.”, his partner answered sarcastically and laughed.

“I need a refill, you want something?”, Yunmi asked in the group as she apparently spotted something at the bar which needed her attention.

Ten and Sunhyung both nooded eagerly. She didn't bother to look at Yunmi, knowing she'd say no anyway.

Ava's eyes followed her friend to the bar, by which a tall young men stood. She saw how Yunmi straightened her back and smiled at the guy, who she probably knew. Ava noticed how her friend pushed her long hair back and saw how her mouth formed into a laugh after the boy said something. Ava tilted her head, trying to figure out if the knew him or not. She would probably remember a guy like him. He was handsome, yet his face had something sheepish when he talked to Yunmi.

“That's Lucas.”, she heard Sunhyung say and snapped out of her thoughts, “He moved her two years ago. Always hangs out with Johnny and the rest.”, she added and Ava raised her brows. She was pretty sure she never saw or even heard of him before.

“I swear Yunmi has the biggest crush on him. Always swooning over his hands or something.”, Ava heard Sunhyung continue and asked herself why exactly her best friend didn't tell her anything about that guy.

“Well, quite obvious that they're flirting.”, Ten added and nodded.

“Yeah, I'm betting they end hooking up tonight.”, said Sunyhung.

“Never. Both won't make the first moves. They're flirting for months and nothing interesting happened.”, her partner replied.

“Got it in my guts. Tonight is the night.”, Sunhyung nodded with a stern voice.

“Pff, wanna bet? 50 they won't hook up.”, Ten chuckled.

“Make it 100.”, Sunhyung answered, looking at her partner while shaking his hand.

Ava's gaze meanwhile scanned the room for someone else. As if someone read her thoughts, Johnny came down the stairs with Mark right behind him.

Johnny's eyes met Ava's for a moment and she clenched her jaw. She noticed how he was moving towards her and how her heart began to beat faster in her chest.

“I'm gonna get some water or something. Be right back.”, she mumbled and quickly disappeared in the crowd, trying to keep herself as small as possible. Her eyes searched for a kitchen, which she finally found. Gladly, there weren't any people in it. Probably because the whole alcohol was at the bar and no one here wanted to drink something else.

She sighed and looked for a water bottle but all she saw were some empty cups.

“What are you looking for?”, she suddenly heard a way too familiar voice and turned around just to see Johnny standing in the door frame, a small smile on his lips.

“Just some water.”, she answered quietly, trying her best to look away from his dammed face. She saw how he moved next to her and opened a door next to her which apparently belonged to the fridge. Just a second later he handed her a bottle of cool water. Ava looked up and mumbled a quick thank you but it was enough to catch him smiling again, which made her heartbeat increase.

“I'm glad you came.”, Johnny said and leaned with his back against the door, looking down at her.

“Yunmi practically forced me to. It's nice, though.”, she answered, fumbling with the bottle in her hands, not sure what else to do with them.

Silence flooded the room and all the questions burned on her tongue. Taking a deep breath, she managed to look up at him, meeting his gaze. She locked her eyes with his for much longer as initially wanted and already felt how she got lost in his gaze just like everytime he looked at her.

He was handsome. His black hair messily falling into his face, his beautifully shaped lips curling upwards to form a small smile. Johnny's dark eyes seemed to look right through her.

“Can I ask you something?”, Ava finally found her voice and gulped, without breaking of the gaze.

“Anything.”, he answered, his voice unusual quiet.

“I need to know why you ignored me after that night.”

“What exactly do you mean?”, his brows furrowed.

“My last night here. You kissed me. You told me you'd call me the next day but you never did. And when I tried to reach out you simply ignored all my messages.” she sighed loudly, breaking their connection for a second, to gather her thoughts, “Seriously I felt so stupid. I still do.”

“Ava, listen, it's not what you think.”, she heard him answer and looked at his eyes once more.

“Then tell me, Johnny. Seriously. It's driving me insane.”, she pleaded, letting her arms drop in frustration.

Silence came up once more. The girl's frustration grew with any second passing by, not sure what she could say to finally get him to answer properly.

“I really thought about every single reason why you did that.”, she sighed, pain growing inside of her body, “And the only possible reason left is what you never liked me at all.”, she said, her voice just a small whisper, anxious about his answer.

“It's not that I don't like you. It's quite the opposite.”, Johnny said as she looked up at him again.

“I can't believe you.”, she sighed and furrowed her brows, thinking about his reasons why when he liked her.

“Listen, I'm sorry if I had hurt you but it's not that simple.”, he tried to explain but Ava just snorted and chuckled bitterly.

“Seriously just tell me directly into my face that I imagined all of that and that you're not interested. I'm not a kid and you're owing me that.” she answered, pressing her lips together.

“I can't tell you that because it would be a lie.”, now it was Johnny who sighed.

“It's the only possible explanation. Don't you want to tell me that you're not interested because you don't want to hurt me? Honestly, it would've hurt less if you'd just told me instead of ghosting me for years!”, her voice got louder such as her thoughts, which were going crazy inside of her head.

“That's not it.”, now frustration filled his voice as well. Ava looked into his face, seeing how he pushed his hair back, seemingly unsure about what to say.

“God, this is so stupid. I'm just gonna go.”, she dropped her arms in defeat, tired and annoyed. She didn't want to maintain this nonsense conversation when she wouldn't get a proper answer anyway.

Just when she wanted to move out of the door she felt Johnny's hand on her shoulder.

“Just – don't go, please.”, she heard him say and rolled her eyes.

“Then tell me why.”, as soon as she turned around she felt how Johnny laid his arms around her figure, pressing her against his chest softly.

“I'm sorry. I honestly am, please believe me.”, she felt how he buried his head in heir hair and wrapped her arms around his torso, her heart hammering loudly in her chest.

“I want to.”, she mumbled in the material of his black shirt and tightened her grip around him.

It felt unbelievably good to hug him, yet she still didn't get an answer from him, making her anxiety rise inside her body. She still didn't know why and the sudden touch confused her even more.

Ava started to wiggle when she realized her thoughts wouldn't shut up. Reluctantly, she looked up at him, loosening the hug a bit, yet not ready to let him go completely.

“This is confusing. I just want to know what's going on, please.” she pleaded once more, locking her eyes with his, just staring into them, trying to find answers.

She felt how Johnny moved one of his hands up her back, reaching her head, carefully putting one of her strands of hair behind her hear, his hand lingering on her cheek.

Her breath quickened when her eyes wandered over his face, absorbing every inch of it, until she stopped at his just perfectly shaped lips. She licked over hers, memories of how his tasted on hers flooded her mind. Her gaze went up again, meeting his once again that night.

The girl was once again hypnotised by his gaze, unable to look away this time.

Without further thinking about it, she put her hands on his neck and pulled him closer to her, to finally press her lips on his. His lips were just as soft as she memorized them, fitting on hers just as she remembered. The kiss was careful, still anxious about his reaction but when he actually pressed her closer to him, deepening the kiss her mind went completely blank.

Her eyes fell shut, her fingers slightly tightening on the back of his neck, trying to keep him even closer. Their lips moved in perfect sync, just as they belonged on each other. The girl cherished every second of it, how his hands cupped her face while one thumbs caressed her cheek, touching her so softly, as if she could break any second. The taste of his lips were sweet, she couldn't even taste a bit of alcohol, which ensure her that this was what he wanted.

As soft as the kiss was, she knew she wanted more. She needed more. After all these months of anxiety, pain and worry she finally kissed him again. Ava opened her mouth for him, allowing his tongue to play with hers, just like she always wanted to be kissed by him. Her fingers buried in his thick her, while his hands trailed down her body to rest on her hips.

Just before she could press her body closer Johnny pushed himself away, as if he'd burn himself.

Completely puzzled, the girl stared at him, not understanding what was going on.

“I can't. I'm sorry.”, she heard him say, his voice sounding strained, as he quickly ran out of the kitchen, leaving Ava alone once again.

She stared at her hands, her heart still beating fast, trying to catch her own breath. The girl felt how tears formed in the corners of her eyes and how her chest, which felt so light and carefree the other second, now felt like some heavy stone was laying on it, stealing her breath away. She had the sudden urge of fresh air and stumbled out of the kitchen, trying to leave everyone in that house behind her while not being seen. She couldn't manage to explain her situation to anyone. She wanted to be alone.

Ava breathed in the cold air and closed her eyes for a second, trying to get as much distance as possible between her and that house. She took a look at her smartphone to check the time but it wasn't even midnight yet, and she didn't want to be a killjoy and spoil Mark's fun. She made her way out of the garden and looked at the woods behind the property and stopped for a second. She heard how the wind whistled through the branches and how the leftover leaves trailed through the air. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, the latest event flooding her mind. This didn't make any sense to her. Why did he kiss her again? It wasn't just a casual kiss, she could feel that. And this time it wasn't her freaking imagination. The way he hold her and returned her kiss, the way he pressed her against his body – that wasn't imagination.

She actually believed him. She trusted his words yet he was acting like something completely different was on his mind and she just couldn't figure it out. Her thoughts went crazy and she felt how her throat got sore. Why did he stop when it felt so good? Any why did he leave her like that, not explaining his behaviour once again.

Ava kept going towards the trees, sometimes looking up at the sky which wasn't as clear as she thought. Thick black clouds were blocking the moon and stars and she sighed, yet it felt nice to move and properly breathe since the air in the house was muggy and way too hot. Or maybe it just felt like that to her. Her body felt exhausted, yet still full of adrenaline. What did she do wrong? Once again, she went through all the possibilities and couldn't get the hand of it. She didn't want to get hurt again by him, yet there she was. Feeling exactly the same as two years ago. It felt like some kind of absurd Deja Vu.

She flinched when she heard a loud crackle next to her and squinted her eyes, when she couldn't see anything. For a second, she thought someone was here, probably some drunk people enjoying themselves in the woods. She rolled her eyes and continue to stroll when she heard a noise again, but this time it sounded more like a hiss. Ava turned around, trying to see anything but it was too dark. Maybe some brainless jock saw her and tried to scare her.

Another crunching noise, this time right behind her, made her flinch once more, the hairs on her neck standing up. She felt her muscles tighten, when she turned around yet still no one was there. The girl looked a round several times, until she decided to head back to the house which she only saw in some distance thanks to the lights outside. Maybe she could just wait inside the car until Mark wanted to leave the party.

For a few seconds, it was silent again when she heard another noise, this time way closer to her, besides her.

Ava started to run, fear suddenly filling her body as her breath and heartbeat quickened, a feeling of danger flowing her body. The noises got louder, someone was definitely following her. She heard fast footsteps approaching her, whispers and hisses starting to echo inside her head, making her want to scream. She shook her head, trying to leave the voices behind but it was like they were just stuck, burying every other sound under it.

The blood pulsated in her head, breathing loudly. Sweat running down her forehead while her feet tried to run as fast as she could, yet she didn't seem to come any closer to the house.

A dark laugh suddenly appeared as she saw a black figure suddenly standing in front her, which made her stop in her steps, almost falling over.

She couldn't see a face, nor anything else which could possibly explain who it was. The figure took a stop closer to her, making her move backwards until her back met with once of the trees, the tree bark scratching her back uncomfortably.

The girl blinked once and the figure was gone, her blood still pulsating in her veins. She gulped, looking around before continuing to run in the direction she thought was the right one, while still turning her head every other second.

Suddenly she felt a breath on her neck, paired with a deep chuckle, making her stop in her tracks once more. She wanted to ask something, scream, anything but it felt like she suddenly had a lump in her throat. The voices inside her head growing louder and louder with each second passing by.

As soon as she wanted to start running again, a hand grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stand still. The grip was harsh and strong, not moving an inch even when she tried her best to wiggle her wrist free. She grunted and tried to take a look at the person behind her but she couldn't move at all.

“Oh no, you can't look at me. Not now, dear child.”, a voice said. It was more of a whisper than a real voice. The sound seemed hypnotic.

“There, there, hold still. Don't scream now.”, he said as she tried to wiggle herself free until her body stiffened. Suddenly, it was like all the noises she heard a second ago were gone. She didn't hear the whistles of the wind, the arches or their leaves. Nothing. It felt like the was in a vacuum, only the voice echoing in her head, telling her to hold still.

“You see, it's nothing personal.”, he continued and chuckled, sending shivers through her body.

“It's just, you got to understand that you're part of something bigger.”, she felt a hot breath on her neck again, making her want to scream but it felt like she lost her voice.

He heard him click his tongue, followed by a cold finger stroking over her neck.

“Such a pity. So beautiful. I see what he's found in you, honestly. But, you know, sacrifices must be made. And such a pretty one.”, the voice continued.

Tears started to form in her eyes, rolling down her cheek, burning her skin. She didn't know what was going to happen but she felt afraid. More than that – she feared for her life. Something in his presence made her body fill with this primal fear.

“Oh, so pretty while crying, what a sight.”, a finger wiped one of her tears, chuckling mildly.

“You know, I like it when they scream. And now you need to scream, so he can hear you, you know?”, like a snap, Ava seemed to found her voice and screamed in a high-pitched voice.

Suddenly he let her go, making her stumble over her feet, her knees meeting the cold earth. She coughed while pulling herself up, commanding her body to start running again. When her feet started to move and her thoughts came back, the voices also did. They laughed at her in different tones, from every direction. It felt like a circle was around her, closing closer around her, laughing louder with every step she took.

Another desperate scream fell of her lips as she pressed her hands against her ears, trying to make the voices go but they got even louder, so loud she felt like becoming deaf. She couldn't even hear her own breath anymore, while tears ran down her face.

“It's so much fun to play, don't you think?”, she heard his voice echoing inside her head again, the screams suddenly disappearing.

“You know why? Because I always win.”, a chuckle echoed inside her head, turning into a loud laugh next to her ear.

“Maybe he'll find you, maybe he won't. I hope he does, otherwise it would spoil the fun.”, the voice added and she felt the grip on her wrist again.

“Ah, I'd really want to keep you for myself, such a shame.” he sighed, her body stiffen again, whilst she felt like choking, unable to bring out the slightest sound.

“It's nothing personal against you, my love. You just picked the wrong person to spend your time with, that's all.”

Her eyes widened in fear, her mouth suddenly hanging open without leaving a sound when the world around her suddenly turned pitch black.

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aleksandermorozovaa · 5 years ago

Text

Over Cookies? - Part 2

Since you all seemed to love the first part, which thank you for the love and support btw (each of your asks meant so much to me! I read them all and my heart melted tysm)! If you want to be tagged in my writing or have any requests please let me know!

Part 1

AO3 Link

Tags:

@commanderbensolo @direnightshade

He’d sat at the top of the stairs for what felt like an eternity before he’d given up and made his way back down stairs, but not before telling Henry he was there when he wanted to talk, that he wasn’t mad, that you weren’t mad. That he wasn’t in trouble.

Charlie suspected there was more going on inside Henry’s head than just burning cookies. He just needed to make sure that Henry knew he was there for him, that he’d listen whenever he was ready to share. None of that helicopter parenting Nicole and her mother insisted on. He knew from experience that the more you hound someone to open up to you the more they turn inward, hide their feelings. So he’d stumbled downstairs, turned off the oven which had still been on.

He’d put his laptop away not long after getting it out, deciding work was pointless when every little noise drew his attention, to the front door and your missing coat and then to the stairs, hoping Henry had come out his room.

But everytime, there was nothing. You were still gone and Henry was still upset. He’d sent you texts, asking you to let him know you were okay, you’d replied quickly reassuring him. He was thankful for that, that you didn’t leave him filled with anxiety.

Eventually he’d heard the tell tale jingle of keys as you slid your key into the lock. You’d often jingle as you walked, with your mass of key chains you had attached to your keys. It was beyond him why you did it, other than making it easier to find your keys in your purse. When he’d asked you you’d rolled your eyes and told him each one held a special memory that you wanted to keep close to you, you’d talked him through each of them, ending on a shard of tigers' eyes. A brown and almost honey gold precious stone.

You’d told him you’d seen it at a street stall and the colour had reminded you of his eyes, the little card next to it explained that tigers' eyes was supposed to make you feel confident, free from anxiety and safe. The exact way he’d made you feel; so you’d bought it and it had quickly become your favourite key chain. Letting you carry his presence around with you no matter how far away he was.

It was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard. That had been the first time he’d told you he loved you and not a day had gone by since where he hadn’t repeated those words.

The door clicked shut, he watched you shrug your coat off, in your hands was a little paper bag and the tray filled with three coffee cups from the independent coffee shop a few blocks away, you claimed they made the best coffee in the entire world, he hadn’t bothered to argue with you about it.

He shot from his chair and moved over to you, taking the tray from your hands so you could slip your arm from your coat and hang it. You smiled up at him, thankful for the help.

“How is he?” You ask with a small frown. Your concern for Henry always blew him away. The way you knew and understood that Henry came first in his life, that Henry's well being and happiness was his propriety.

It was a relief honestly he'd heard stories from other single fathers in his directors social circles. About the women they dated post divorce, they were clingy and easily jealous of anyone else in their lives. Charlie thought they made these poor women out to be like cats or children not girlfriends. Either way he’d been relieved when you were anything but. He was the one that had become clingy, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible wanting to fill the loneliness in his heart and the emptiness in his home. He wanted to surround himself with only you.

"He's not speaking to me. He won't even unlock the door to let me in." Charlie sighed and opened his arms slightly hoping you would take the invitation to let him hold you.

You did, moving forward and wrapping your arms tight around his middle, your cheek pressing into his chest, the hand not holding the drinks tray wrapped around you in return. You smelt of cold crisp air and the perfume he'd gotten you for your birthday a few months ago. He could never really pick up what the notes were, it wasn't exactly his area of expertise. But it was a scent he'd never forget, he'd come to think of it as home.

“Can I go up?” You ask, pulling out of his embrace. Charlie nodded, he wasn’t sure Henry would open up to you but if you wanted to try he wouldn’t stop you.

“I got you coffee.” You said gesturing to the cup tray in his hands. “Oatmilk just like you like.”

“Thank you.” Coffee always helps to calm him down, there was something about holding a hot cup that brought comfort and peace. You take the smallest cup from the carrier, he notices a tiny cartoon drawn on the side, he wonders briefly if you did that or if you asked the barista to, but then the unmistakable lines of your handwriting catch his eye.

You lean up to kiss his cheek before making your way up the stairs. Charlie hangs about at the bottom, resting his hands on the banister and his chin on top.

“Henry.” You say softly, you don’t knock like he had. “I know you’re upset with me right now.”

You pause as if expecting Henry to tell you to go away, Charlie expects it too but Henry stays silent.

“I’m not going to ask you to speak to me or anything like that, but I got you a hot chocolate. And one of those little tomato and mozzarella pastries you like. I even asked them to take the basil off. I’ll leave them outside your door for you okay?” You came back downstairs after that, back to Charlie’s waiting arms.

Sleep struggled to claim him that night. He’d tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. He knew he was keeping you up with it so he’d gone back downstairs to get a glass of water. Hopefully giving you time to get to sleep without his restlessness. He’d stopped outside Henry’s room to pick up the empty paper food bag. The cup was probably sitting on his desk half cold. He’d picked up his mother’s annoying habit of not finishing drinks. But that's okay. At least he’d eaten.

He’d spent some time sitting at the breakfast counter in the kitchen, after putting the cookies in the fridge with the leftover dough. He’d of course eaten two of them, unable to stop himself they’d crumbled in his mouth, they’d tasted a little over cooked but it didn’t ruin how nice they were.

He’d made some notes in his notebook and then ended up doodling instead so he’d refilled his glass of water and carried it back upstairs.

"I don't hate you Y/N,"

"I know." The conversation caught his ears as he reached the top of the stairs causing him to stop in his tracks. The door to Henry's room was wide open as well as the door to tour shared room. You'd turned the bedside lamp on, the light gently illuminating the room and the landing.

"You're nice and kind and you tell the funniest jokes." Charlie smiled at that, you had a little joke book stores away sometimes the week leading up to Henry's visits; he'd find you sitting highlighting jokes or writing them down from the internet. Every morning when Henry came down for breakfast you'd tell him and he always loved them.

"But what if I'm like the cookies."

"What do you mean bug?" you'd called Henry bug since the first day you'd met him. The first thing Henry had done was show you the tiny ladybird that had landed on his hand. Together you'd counted the spots and told each other facts about ladybirds. Henry's were all simple little things he'd learnt in school but you'd always act like it was the most exciting thing.

"You said that we could just make some more because they're not perfect. What if you do that to me? What if you replace me?"

Charlie's heart was in this throat, tears pricking his eyes. Finally understanding the cause of all this. He stepped into the bedroom placing his glass of water and the dresser and then climbing into bed, sandwiching Henry in.

He saw how that Henry was pressed right up against, your arms wrapped around him. you his eyes rimmed red. He'd been crying.

"We'd never ever replace you bug. Ever.”

“Zola’s dad had another baby and she never sees him anymore.” Charlie reached out to his son then stroking his hair. He thought that he was replaceable? That’s where this had all come from.

“That’s never going to happen.” Charlie said, holding back the sob in his throat. “Henry I’d never ever not love you.”

“Really? Henry turns to face him, the tears now visible on his cheek. “Even if you had another baby? One that was better than me?”

“Nothing could be better than you bug.” You say with a smile.

“Even if me and Y/N did have a baby,” Charlie pauses then to look at you, neither of you had ever really mentioned children yet, he had thought about it, what you’d look like pregnant. How much of a good mother you would be. He knew it was something he wanted eventually, but not yet. He could tell just by the soft encouraging smile on your face, that this was something you’d considered too. In any other situation he’d have celebrated, been so happy that you were committed to him enough to think about children. But it wasn’t the time.

“You would be just as important, I’d never leave you Henry. I need you to know that. I love you more than anything.”

Henry nodded and moved closer so that he was wrapped in Charlie’s. You shuffled closer as well your arm coming to rest over Henry and rest on Charlie’s waist.

“Dad?”

Charlie hummed.

“I love you.” a pause. “I love you too Y/N.” To his knowledge that was the time he’d said he loved you. Your eyes were closed but he saw the grin spread across your lips.

“And we you bug. Now get some sleep, we’ve got a long day of cookie decorating tomorrow.”

Charlie wasn't a fan of co sleeping. But tonight, just this once it was okay.

#charle barber x reader #charlie barber x you #charlie barber #my writing #wife me charlie barber YOU FUCKING BEAST #Love of my life #adam driver #shatter my knees you fuckable redwood

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maverick-werewolf · 5 years ago

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Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends Preview - Story 6, “Troubled Waters”

Interior illustration from The Hunt Never Ends story, “Troubled Waters”

We’re almost there - the book releases one week from today!

I am a very special kind of stressed, lemme tell you.

This preview is of the final story in the story collection and my personal favorite: “Troubled Waters.” If you didn’t know, this is a preview for my upcoming story collection, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends. It’s a book, but it’s something in-between a novel and a short story collection.

Each story in the book is individual and stands on its own, but they also go in order and build upon each other. So I’m not sure if one should really call it a novel, but it’s also different than just unrelated short stories. It bridges the gap between the two mediums.

Anyway, here’s another preview - enjoy!

For more info on the book itself, you can also check out this post. Also be sure to check out the Hunt Never Ends tag for a whole lot more book previews!

And remember - Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends is available for preorder (digital only; physical available on release date) on Amazon.com!

Pre-Order Link

Please note that, while the ebook is now available for preorder, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends will also be available in paperback on October 30 from the same Amazon listing! Paperbacks cannot be preordered using Amazon’s system, however.

Be sure to check back October 30 for the physical (paperback) edition!

If you’re interested in purchasing the book digitally, you can now pre-order it right here and have it immediately on October 30!

(Paperback edition will be available on Amazon on October 30)

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

There were a lot of things Caiden knew how to do. Clean a sword. Maintain a bow or a crossbow, even customize the latter almost beyond recognition. Make his own arrows or bolts. Investigate a crime scene. Bandage a wound, make a tourniquet, brew a potion, hunt, forage, track, forge his own tools or weapons, carve wood, build houses or fortifications, command an army, cook meals…

But one thing he didn’t know how to do was read. And it pissed him off.

The beds in Castle Greywatch weren’t much. Some straw, changed daily, for a mattress, and some sackcloth to cover it. Any Venatori better off liked to buy their own beds, but Caiden wasn’t exactly drowning in coin. Following the dullahan encounter on Samhain, Kiya had given him a feather pillow as thanks – he didn’t want to think it had belonged to Relgar, but it probably had – and that was the nicest part of his sleeping arrangement in the castle.

He shifted his back against that pillow, currently squashed between him and the shoddy headboard and struggling to retain any fluffiness as a result. He tried to focus. Focus, he tended to be good at, but staring at the book in his hand almost made him wonder. It was a much smaller bestiary than the one Gwen had been given by Illikon, with a likewise smaller amount of illustrations.

If he had any sense, he would have just asked Gwen for help with reading. But his dignity – or maybe his stubbornness, or both – had long since thrown that idea out. He had all day to struggle with this, unless something came up. So, he reached to the nightstand beside him for the bottle of whiskey there. If there was something Castle Greywatch did have, it was decent booze.

Not that it seemed to be helping right now. It made things a little fuzzier, maybe. Slightly dulled that deep, gnawing, empty pain inside him, but not enough.

After they left Illikon, that feeling had grown louder, rowdier – tried to make itself more known. Whatever it was found claws to dig into his spine, using them to reach his skull. There, it chewed into him, left seeds of growing frustration – restless anger he couldn’t seem to muzzle. Any unwanted feelings of loneliness, of being lost, only got worse. A pulling, a need, telling him to do something.

After a few nights spent at Greywatch, it had grown to take a shape he almost recognized: hunger. Impossibly deep hunger that absolutely nothing satisfied.

That was why he couldn’t think. Not the drink. Not the page in front of him, covered in small symbols supposedly forming words, all of which made no sense. It was the smoldering flame in him turning into an empty inferno, and he had no idea how to put it out – or how to give it more fuel to burn.

Caiden’s eyes lost focus on the bestiary, staring at something inside rather than out. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, his grip on the book loosening, letting it droop.

Some tentative excitement came creeping up the stairs just outside the room. Caiden snapped the book shut and shoved it under his pillow, folding his arms and feeling an awful lot like a five-year-old trying to hide something embarrassing.

Except the bottle of whiskey. Couldn’t really hide that. Not like it mattered, anyway; she already knew it.

Gwen rounded the corner, peering into the room past the partially ajar door. She gave a few tentative knocks, eyes on him.

Caiden grunted. Yeah. Come in. You already have.

When she stepped into the room, Caiden instantly noted she was fully suited up, wearing her leather jerkin, belt of potions, weapons… Which for her, unlike him, was unusual to see when they were around the castle. Something was up.

Gwen paused, looked at him, followed his gaze to the far wall obviously in search of something interesting there, then at him again.

He met her stare evenly. “What?”

She shot the whiskey bottle a glance. “It’s a little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”

Caiden shrugged. Did that actually matter right now?

“Sure… Okay.” Cool worry filled the room, emanating from her, lapping jittery and mildly annoying waves against him. Gwen fumbled with a letter she’d been holding halfway behind her back. “Well, everyone in the great hall was talking missions, and a new one just came in. I snatched it up – thought it might be interesting. It’s not really like anything we’ve done before…”

An unnatural urge to snap at her, tell her to get on with it, rose in his throat and forced him to swallow it. Barely. It settled in his stomach, uncomfortable and heavy, and he tried to tell himself not to be a half-drunk asshole.

“What is it?” he prompted, voice coming out too flat as he struggled to find his usual patience.

That made Gwen screw up her brow at him more than a little, but she said, “There’s a village in the mountains not far from here – secluded little place called Norhaven. It doesn’t seem very noteworthy, except it has its own freshwater spring coming out of a mountain. But now a monster’s attacking them over the water, or that’s what they’re claiming. They say it’s been burning people, of all things, and it only attacks in the dark.”

For half a second, Caiden’s mind stuttered and ground to a halt. The first time he met something that only attacked in the dark, it had been his first monster hunt. It wasn’t something he liked recalling.

But he nodded.

“They… want us there as soon as possible,” Gwen added, almost tentatively. No, not almost. Definitely. Her nerves were frayed. She was worried about something, and it only seemed to get worse the longer she looked at him.

Caiden didn’t much like people worrying about him. He never had.

So he huffed, trying to figure out how to give what she might consider a ‘normal’ response. He stood and popped his neck in a short shock of painful relief. Even if it didn’t help the pinching headache he’d gotten from being bent over a book and trying to read for so long, it felt slightly better.

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow morning,” said Gwen, still eying him like he was sick.

He eyed her right back. “I’m fine.”

“Caiden, you’ve drunk way more than usual lately – and that’s already saying something – and way earlier in the day. You know how terrible that is for you, right? And besides that, you’re talking even less.”

Gwen frowned. Some kind of hurt came off her then, enough to make his insides almost start to shrivel.

“You can trust me,” she said at length. “If something’s wrong, talk to me about it. Wouldn’t you be the first one to tell me that you need to know if I have something going on, so it doesn’t jeopardize our mission?”

Caiden’s jaw tightened, hard, before he gave it permission. You know she’s right. Yeah, she was right, and he couldn’t tell her. Every word, every phrase that came to mind sounded dismissive. Uncaring, or at least untrusting.

But Gwen gave up fairly quickly, still wearing a frown. She nodded and said, “Okay. Want to leave in an hour or two? It isn’t far to ride. We’ll get there before sundown and we can find a place to sleep.”

Caiden nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll meet you by the stables.”

With that, Gwen turned and left – though not without throwing a quick, and decidedly worried, look back at him over her shoulder.

(More preview under the cut!)

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

“These attacks,” said Gwen, “do they usually happen around the spring, under the trees?”

Asger nodded. “Mostly.”

“And has anyone been in that cave since it started?”

“Where the source is? Gods, no. Gotta have a deathwish to walk into the dark after this thing.”

“Yeah,” Caiden said, already walking around the trees and toward the cave. Behind him, Asger sputtered, while Gwen’s quiet footfalls and building, anxious excitement followed in his wake.

“Go on back to town and get some rest, Asger,” Gwen called back to him.

Caiden stopped before the mouth of the cave and squinted into it, reaching for a potion on his belt: one to enhance his senses. Beside him now, Gwen shifted, tension radiating from her like constant lightning.

“If you drink that and that thing burns you, it’ll really hurt,” she said. “I heard some Venatori pass out from pain if something catches them with one of those.”

Caiden huffed. “I didn’t last time. I won’t this time either.”

Just as he drained the potion bottle, Asger’s panting caught up with them again as he stopped by their side, drawing his bodkin dagger and holding it up in a shaking hand. Gwen blinked at him, and Caiden furrowed his brow.

Asger’s face slowly drained of color as he stared at Caiden’s eyes – a side-effect of the potion was his eyes glowing. Not much, just softly, but it tended to scare the hell out of the average person.

“You probably shouldn’t come with us,” Gwen offered slowly, like she was trying to calm Asger down from some fit of panic. “Especially since… your weapon there looks like something my partner might pick his teeth with.”

“This’s a finely-made dagger, I’ll have you know,” Asger blurted. “And I’m the watchman here, this is part of my job. Let’s go on then—”

He stepped forward, but Caiden snapped one hand out and got a firm grip on Asger’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m on point,” he said. “You shouldn’t come, but if you’re following us, then stay behind me. Gwen…”

“On it. I’ll cover your rear— I mean, the rear.” A blush quickly rose in her cheeks. “Tom ruined me,” Caiden faintly heard her mutter under her breath.

Caiden grunted. Then he turned and led the way.

Didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust, then to adapt, thanks to that potion. Faint moonlight spilling in let him see limestone walls slick with condensation and a violently gushing spring, churning the water on the far end of the cavern at the base of the wall. Spitting it out straight into the reservoir, the flow of it turning gentle by the time it left the cave.

Heavy mist hung in the air here, maybe kicked up by the water. But something didn’t seem right.

Then he realized why.

Fear washed down upon them like frigid rain – so much fear that, for half a second, it froze every muscle in Caiden’s body. His nerves pulled taut, ready to break and snap down on him like a whip, hard enough to leave a few more scars on his back. Hand shooting to his sword hilt in a white-knuckle grip, he drew in a sharp breath and fought the chill that ran fast up his spine and forced him to be afraid.

This wasn’t natural. Gwen, from the way she was suddenly fumbling with her gear, seemed to know it.

Asger, on the other hand, didn’t. He bellowed out a hoarse shout, nearly fell spinning around to face the exit, and ran for the cave mouth.

All around them, a shrill voice echoed, “Leave this place!”

It spoke the words very clearly – not the gibberish he’d been told about.

Everything happened at once. A rush of air ripped by him, trailing cold in its wake, like off the surface of the spring itself. Asger screamed, his heavy boots scuffing the stone as something made him stumble and fall. Caiden charged forward at a surging shadow, blade ready to swing.

And an arrow lodged itself in his upper arm with a hard lance of pain and a meaty thunk.

Caiden coughed out a grunt and staggered from the impact, the arrow locking up his sword arm and stopping him mid-strike. Whatever had come past him and attacked Asger seemed already gone, moving faster than he could even understand.

Gwen appeared beside him in an instant, hand on his uninjured left arm and sputtering apologies. “Caiden!? I – gods— I shouldn’t have tried to shoot it, it moved so fast—”

The cave around him was far from silent. Asger swore as he scrambled to his feet, Gwen kept on apologizing as she tried in vain to tug Caiden out of the cave until he, halfway in a stupor, finally staggered along after her.

Boots against stone. Grass under their feet, bright moonlight overhead. Plenty of pain in his right arm that twitched useless and limp at his side.

These sensations stayed, but something was missing.

He’d heard once that silence was golden. He had never understood what ‘silence’ entirely meant. This was the closest he’d ever come.

The whispers had stopped – the fleeting memories. All of it. The fear from the monster was gone – his, Asger’s, Gwen’s – he felt no terror from anyone, though they still looked afraid. Sounded afraid. Moved like it. But he couldn’t sense it. It didn’t invade his mind, twist into him, and try to make itself at home.

And he suddenly felt blind. Deaf. Neither of those things, yet both at once – because it was gone. A sense he had known for his entire life, something that was always there. Gone, no trace left. He felt dumb.

Caiden blinked. Furrowed his brow. His shoulders tensed, pulled against the arrow still biting deep into his arm, and made him wince.

What the hell was going on?

In the corner of his vision, he saw Gwen fumble for something in a pouch on her belt, only to draw out the shattered neck of a bottle. She swore and threw it aside, turning her attention to him instead as he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.

“Caiden – Caiden, hey, look at me!” Gwen grabbed the harness around his shoulders and tugged on it hard enough for his eyes to snap to her and stare. Her face was pale. “That arrow was poisoned. Okay? You’re probably woozy right now; it’s very fast-acting…”

“Gwen—”

She sucked in a hard breath and blurted, “Caiden if you say ‘I’m fine’ I swear to Athena I will punch you in the stomach.”

He paused and cocked his head at her, his mouth ever so slightly ajar.

“Listen,” she said, voice quivering and straining to sound strong, “the bottle for the antidote I had on me broke – I have more of it, but it’s in my saddlebag. We have to get you to the inn so we can get that arrow out and I can give you the antidote. Okay?”

“Just pull it out,” Caiden mumbled, his words coming out slurred.

“I’m not doing that, you don’t just suddenly pull an arrow out – there are procedures for this!”

One sharp tug on his uninjured arm later, and he was following her back down the mountain path, both of them led by a stumbling Asger. The watchman looked at a deep welt on his forearm, his flesh twisted and reddened – what was left of it. Most of it had burned off entirely. Asger swore more colorfully than the average sailor, wearing a deep grimace.

He separated from them with a few hurried words to Gwen – words Caiden should’ve heeded, but paid no attention to – and disappeared into a nearby home. Gwen kept leading the way, up the stairs and into the inn, still tugging on Caiden’s uninjured arm.

“By Jove!” the innkeeper shouted, starting up in an instant from where he’d been sitting in his quiet tavern.

He quickly started throwing questions, which Gwen just as quickly deflected. She mostly did that by dumping a handful of coins on the counter and asking for two rooms. All the while, Caiden leaned his uninjured arm on the nearest table and pulled in one deep breath after another.

Pain quickly found its way across his body, tightening every muscle and settling heavily in his chest, like having molten lead poured into his lungs. It didn’t leave him any room to breathe, and that didn’t leave him much room to think.

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1-1snailxd-art · 6 years ago

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Sanders Sides oneshot fic - Magic Beans

Type: Magic au (kinda...like my own magic universe)

Characters: Logan Sanders, Remy/Sleep, Virgil (Patton and Roman are mentioned)

Relationships: I’m tagging losleep put it’s mostly platonic cause they’re roommates (oh my god they were roommates) and analogical because that’s the bit, implied royality.

Warnings: Remy swears...he said b**ch.

Words: 2032

Summary: Remy steps in when his sleep deprived roommate wants to quit magic school before even attempting to learn magic. A visit to his favourite coffee shop seems like the best way to snap Logan out of the funk he’s in.

Authors note: Look, I was sad, I watched @blinksinbewilderment stream on instagram and they mentioned a losleep/analogical magic coffee shop au (no angst) and I tried something.

General Taglist (let me know if you want on or off): @thequeensphinx @ollyollyoxinfree @celeste-tyrrell @pumpkinminette

Bonus: @aowrot did some art of Remy (click to see). I approve of his style and floating hat. Honoured to have fanart done for this little tale.

———————————————

“Girl, you know there is a bed right there for a reason.”

Logan sat up stiffly when the sound of Remy’s voice filled his tired ears, along with the crinkling of paper as he moved.

“I am…aware.” He said, squinting up at the man highlighted by his desk lamp. “I did not intend to sleep here.”

“Well, you did, and if that schedule is correct, you have class in an hour.”

Normally that comment would have caused Logan to bolt upright, but instead he slammed his head against the desk and groaned in frustration. If Remy’s statement on time was correct, he’d probably managed a maximum of 2 hours of uncomfortable sleep and was nowhere near ready to give his presentation on wand construction.

“You learning through osmosis now?”

“If it were possible, I would.” Logan mumbled into the paper before sitting up to rub his forehead. “I shouldn’t even bother. This whole thing is pointless. I’m not going to get into the magic course anyway, so I might as well give up and go to sleep.”

“Right, bitch, we’re out!”

Logan gasped and fumbled over his words as Remy suddenly pulled his chair back and pulled him up by his arm.

“Wha-where are we going?”

“We need a magic elixir to find my annoying, magic obsessed, roommate because that ain’t you right now.”

“That is ridiculous.” Logan huffed, unable to pull out of their friends firm grip. “Even if some personality changing elixir did exist, you wouldn’t be able to afford it.”

“True, but you don’t gotta bring it up.”

Remy was kind enough to at least grab Logan’s satchel as they left their tiny dwelling and headed into the town centre; leading the conversation so Logan could walk in reasonable silence. When the pair had first moved in together, they had hardly interacted beyond cleaning and rent day. Remy was either working or out at someone’s party until the early hours, while Logan filled his daily schedule with work, class and study. At one point, Remy questioned if the man ever slept or understood the meaning of free time. However, over the past month, Remy noticed a shift in Logan’s behaviour that he couldn’t ignore. Dishes were left piled into the sink more often, curse words penetrated the thin walls at all hours and he found an empty jam jar left on the count with a spoon in it. The jam was the final straw for Remy because it was too weird to be considered normal for his formally perfect roommate.

“May I ask where exactly we are going?”

The further they walked into the busy centre, the more Logan wanted to return to his room and forget the real world existed.

“I told you. To get an elixir.”

“That was a joke, so what is the truth.”

A sideways glance with a raised eyebrow was the only response Logan received as Remy took his hand and quicken their pace down the street. Rounding the corner Logan groaned as he saw the painted sign for ‘The Magic Beans’ and understood what his black jacket clad mate had meant by elixir.

“Coffee? Seriously?”

“Serious as a heart attack, babes.” Remy said, holding the door open for Logan to walk inside. “Trust me, this will perk you right up.”

“You’ve been partying with Patton again haven’t you?”

“I will not apologise for appreciating Roman’s poppin’ parties with that puffball dancing around. That kid has more energy than 100 shots of espresso.”

Shuffling awkwardly around the couch in the stores centre, Logan watched as empty cups levitated their way into the kitchen and laughter echoed from full tables and booths. Jealousy gripped his gut as he watched how effortless some of the workers made magic seem. Clearly, they had been blessed with strong magic in their families, unlike him. Remy may have been perfectly content with a magic-less existence, but Logan wasn’t. He wanted nothing more than to point his finger at a book to guide it to him, or even just be able to use a wand. Anything that would make him more than what he was.

“This way bookworm,” Remy guided Logan to a secluded booth in the far corner of the store and ushered him into the seat. “Let me introduce you to my magic elixir of life.”

“I don’t understand the allure of a beverage brewed from bitter tasting beans.”

“You’ll understand soon enough,” Remy beamed, hiding his face behind a menu.

“Doubtful. I’ve tasted coffee before and it was far from an enjoyable experience.”

“Haven’t tried magic beans then, have you?”

Suddenly Logan understood why Remy was hiding his face, because he was sure he was trying to compose himself right now. The voice belonged to a man that made Logan’s brain come to a sudden halt; eyes lined black, purple highlights peeked through black hair, and glossed lips were pulled into a half smile that Logan couldn’t take his eyes off.

“He hasn’t.” Remy cooed, lowering the menu and leaning back now he could maintain a cool expression. “Logan is a hard one to coax away from study hall and your parents don’t allow take away.”

The worker chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, giving Logan a peek of his hip as the black uniform lifted behind his apron.

“Yeah, they are very protective of our recipes. Better safe than sorry though. You just want the usual, Rem?”

“Cheers, babes. You know how I like it.”

“Sure thing. And what can I get - ah, Logan, was it?”

Worry danced across the server’s eyes when he was met with only a stare in response. Upon releasing he had been asked a question, Logan cleared his throat and forced his mind to function enough to grab a menu without showing just how shaky his hands were.

“Ah-um-yes. Logan is, well, me.” Cheeks burning, Logan cursed his sleep deprived brain for being unable to form coherent sentences and tried to read the jumble of letters in front of him. “I’ll have a…um…”

With a sigh of defeat, Logan dropped the menu on the table and hopped he didn’t look too ridiculous smiling up at the other man.

“I don’t know what to have. I’m sorry. This isn’t really my…”

“Cup of tea?” He offered, seeming to immediately regret the comment as Logan blinked back.

“…ironically, I’m not a tea fan either, um…my apologies, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh, sorry. Virgil.” Quickly scrapping his hand down his pants to dry it, Logan shook the hand Virgil had extended. “So, you’re a real newbie to this scene then. How have you survived studying?”

“He isn’t surviving, which is why I’ve brought him here.” Remy offered before he had to watch another awkward pause.

“Right.” Virgil let out an awkward chuckle and ran a hand through his fringe as he thought out loud. “So, coffee noob, not a tea fan, study-aholic. Do you prefer sweet or savoury flavours?”

��Oh, Logan is very salty.” Logan’s head snapped round and glared at his friend opposite him. “Girl, that look only cements my point. What do you recommend, Virge?”

“I think I’ve got an idea. I’ll be back.”

“Take your time,” Logan called after him as he watched Virgil walk back towards the counter.

“You’re so gay-ow!”

Logan kicked Remy under the table and spoke in a hushed tone.

“What the heck was that?”

“You’re smitten, kitten, that’s what.” Remy said, rubbing his shin under the table. “Thank Mama Remy when you get his number.”

“Falsehood. I’m going to kill Mama Remy while he sleeps.”

“Good luck with that, you’ll be too preoccupied to even think about me. So, what’s the most powerful wand core?”

“Phoenix feather strands with northern tree sap.” Logan replied without thought; resting his elbow on the table so he could comfortably massage his left temple. “What exactly is your plan here?”

“To find the nerd that wants to put magic into the Sanders name despite what his parents say. Should I buy a wand or make my own?”

“I seriously doubt I will ever be able to learn magic at this rate… and if you’re born with magic, and the wand is just for show, buy it; but you’ll need to make it if you’re not.”

“I think you’re gonna blow them away when you pass this course and get to make a wand. I can see you now;” pushing his glasses up onto his head, Remy gestured an invisible wand out to the side. “Wielding a wand crafted from a fallen elm.”

“Based on previous encounters, I’d say that is more likely Roman’s style. Given my birth is in the later part of the year, and my reduced sight, oak would be a much better fit.” Yawning, Logan fiddled with the corner of the menu until he froze at Remy’s laugh. “What?”

“Girl, you are going to ace that test.”

“Falsehood.” He said with more force than earlier. “With an infinitesimal amount of sleep and limited knowledge, it will be impossible for me to achieve a passing grade.”

Leaning onto folded arms, Remy locked eyes with his friend and smiled. “You just answered 3 key wand questions without batting an eye. I think you’ll be fine.”

Logan raised a pointed finger to rebut the statement, before realising what Remy had done.

“You are one bad elixir away from an evil genius.”

“I was born without magic because I would have been too much for this world to handle.”

“I will concede to you this time, but even if I do go to school, I will still need to stay awake for the test and practical examination. I don’t think I can function for another 3hours.”

“I’ve got you covered,” Virgil beamed, placing a tall dark mug in front of Remy and holding another out for Logan. “Chilled to help you wake up. Mild bean blend with a salted caramel mix; extra salt to balance out the sweet. All the buzz of Remy’s coffee, without the bitter bite and some cream on top just for show.”

“That hasn’t been on the menu,” Remy grumbled as he reviewed it one more time just in case he’d missed a new addition.

“I know.” Logan noticed Virgil shift nervously on his feet after placing the beverage down before him. “Thought I would make something special for the beginner.”

“You never did that for me!”

“Don’t act so offended. You were already a veteran drinker when you first came here.”

Tuning out the other voices, Logan glanced sadly between the clock on the wall and the personalised drink in front of him. He considered what Remy had just demonstrated and made a decision before speaking again.

“Thank you, Virgil, but unfortunately I can’t stay.” Two sets of eyes snapped to Logan as he carefully shuffled out of the booth. “Remy believes I can pass this test, but if I don’t leave now, I might not be able to even take it in the first place. I’m sorry.”

A smile crept back onto Remy’s face as Virgil grabbed Logan’s hand when he turned to leave.

“Wait…you said you needed something to help get you through the exam, though.”

“I-I-I’ll just have to…push through it I guess.”

“No. Here.” Grabbing the cup from the table, Virgil held it out for the other. “Take it with you.”

“But… you don’t do take away, here. What about your family recipes?”

“Yeah, well…this is my recipe a-a-and I want you to take it.” Cautiously, Logan took the cup and Virgil released his other hand. “Besides, when you return the cup…I’ll get to see you again.”

Logan almost let the beverage slip through his fingers in shock but nodded and hurried out of the store. Remy chuckled before carefully taking a sip of his own drink.

“The only thing that would have made that gayer, would have been if Pat and Roman were here sharing a rainbow unicorn.”

“You planned that whole thing, didn’t you?” Virgil breathed, not taking his eyes away from when he last saw Logan.

“Not entirely,” he sighed and dug into his back pocket. “I thought for sure the bitch would have paid.”

———————————————

What else have I done?

Writing masterlist / master post thingy

Check out my main blog @snail-giggles for random fandom reblogs and stuff

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vikingpoteto · 5 years ago

Text

we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)

Chapter 3 on AO3 ______________________

Relationships: (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit

Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all. ________________________

When the cast comes off his leg, Jason sighs in relief. Casts are a bitch and he can’t believe he survived four weeks walking around like a zombie.

And, well, he technically is a zombie, but still.

The nurse barely has time to set aside the now useless pieces of cast before Jason eagerly stretches his arm. He tries not to take offense in the patronizing smile the man gives him. Jason supposes he isn’t the person acting like having their arm in a cast is hell — because it is — but he can go without the little smirk, thank you very much. He would’ve removed the damn thing on his own, except it’s his dominant arm stuck in the cursed thing and he didn’t want to risk any new injuries. It’s the first time in over a month that he has no major wounds. And that’s considering that the pit gave him a faster healing rate than your average Joe.

“There’s a crack here,” the nurse comments.

“Hm. I had to fight a criminal. They were annoying, so I hit them with my cast,” Jason says.

The nurse gives him a forced chuckle as though he thinks Jason is joking. Or, well, that Todd Peters is joking. He doesn’t need to know Jason’s real name or that he’s completely serious. He must be new. They’re not in Gotham, but they’re close enough that having to beat a random crook with a cast shouldn’t be that outlandish.

The annoying noise of the saw fills the room again and Jason does his best to stay put. While telling Dick to fuck off after their fight had been satisfying — a silver lining after having his ass handed back to him, if you must — letting himself fall to what could’ve been his second death wasn’t Jason’s smartest move. And definitely not worth having to drag his own broken ass home, ruin his wounded body even more as he struggled to change into civies. Never mind having to face the humiliation of seeking a public hospital and pretending he had somehow walked away from getting hit by a bus. That had been fun, but he would not recommend it.

“There you go,” the nurse says. “You’re free as a bird, Mr. Peters.”

Jason flexes his fingers in relief. As a bird. What a joke.

When he walks out of the hospital with a medical bill that will most certainly never get paid — although it’s tempting to send it to Wayne Enterprises just to let them know Jason is alive and now ready to kick their asses again — he remembers the second time someone told him he could be Robin.

It had been Tim.

He hadn’t thought about that night in quite a while, mostly because he couldn’t believe it really happened. It was before they freaking sent him to Arkham, but after Jason got rid of (most of) the green mist in his mind that had him foaming at the mouth with unchecked anger. Robin swooped in right in the middle of one of Jason’s busts and somehow managed to knock out as many criminals as he protected from lethal shots. After they were done, he had approached Jason and deadass asked him if he would consider being Robin again.

Just like that. Jason thought he was joking.

Then Tim Drake, in all his 14 year-old glory, his voice still cracking a bit, deadpanned: “I only took over because someone had to. But now that you’re back, it only makes sense that you go back to your family.”

Jason was so stunned he doesn’t remember what he said next. Probably something about shooting the kid if he caught him in his territory again. He’s pretty sure the little shit rolled his eyes at him before jumping off the roof. Jason had the distinct feeling that Bruce never heard about that small mishap.

For quite a while, Jason tried his hardest not to think about what he left in Gotham. It was hard when he was too injured to move, but books helped him through it, as always. Now, however, he was free as a robin and he has a decision to make: what is he going to do next?

The trip to the shitty motel he’s staying at takes no time at all, his feet getting him there while his mind was elsewhere. He’s thinking so hard of Gotham that at first he thinks he’s losing his marbles when he sees a familiar face. Jason freezes on his tracks.

Tim Drake is casually leaning against Jason’s door. He tilts his head to the side and cocks an eyebrow in challenge, as though letting him know that he is very much real and not an hallucination.

“How the fuck —” Jason starts. Then he decides against it. “You know what? I don’t want to know. Forget you found me.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “I happen to have a really good memory, though.”

“It sure doesn’t look like it, considering it seems you forgot I tried to kill you last time we saw each other.”

“You mean when you could’ve killed me, but you didn’t?”

It takes all of Jason’s flimsy self-control not to punch him. Tim stands there, his arms still crossed, his eyebrows vanishing under his too-long bangs, and it’s almost as if he’s daring Jason to hit him, to lose his cool. Doing so would be letting him win and Jason isn’t about to do that.

He has half a mind to appreciate the fact that Tim had been waiting for him in the hallway, though. Even Dick hadn’t been that considerate in the past, always favoring the good old breaking into people’s homes like Bats taught them. It annoys him to no end that the kid somehow always knows what little things will mulify Jason.

“I just wanna talk,” Tim says.

“I haven’t been active lately”

Tim doesn’t even flinch. “That’s a lie.”

“How did Dick find me?” Jason groans.

“He didn’t. I did,” still in that annoying flat voice.

“And you want me to believe he didn’t follow you?”

“I don’t think so, since I haven’t seen him in a month.”

That catches Jason’s attention. He considers the boy in front of him. Rumor has it that Tim Drake manages to be even more elusive than the rest of them, and Jason believes that. He believes that a child that stalked Batman and Robin for so long is nothing short of impressive. He heard Tim was the only person able to lie to Batman.

Something makes him think Tim isn’t lying now.

With a sigh, he fishes the keys from his pocket and opens the door. Pretends not to see the kid’s annoyingly cocky smile.

Jason doesn’t know much about Tim other than his M.O. as Robin and parts of how he joined the Bat cult. He knows he was already a rich kid before becoming Robin, but if the kid has any reaction to Jason’s crappy hotel room, he doesn’t show.

Jason drops on the couch with a groan. Tim stands around with a blank expression and, if Jason didn’t know any better, he’d think the kid is nervous. He gestures at the empty mismatched armchair by his side, and only then does the kid take a seat. Silence stretches.

“So? You said you wanted to talk. Talk.”

It’s almost impossible to notice, but Tim takes a slow breath before starting: “When we fought… you asked me to be your Robin,” he says. “Did you mean it?”

Jason quirks an eyebrow up. “What kind of question is that?”

“Did you seriously consider taking me as a sidekick?” Tim insists. “It’s a yes or no question.”

Jason sits back and crosses his arms, keeping his expression schooled into something neutral. He hadn’t thought about that night — at least not on purpose — since then. However, in the fleeting moments his mind forced him to relive it, he couldn’t help but think about his spur of the moment offer. Because that’s what it had been. An impulsive thought.

However…

“I meant it,” he says, his voice neutral. “In our field, it’s a pain to work alone. I know you have skills, so having you work for me would’ve been useful.”

And that’s the truth, or at least most of it. Tim presses his lips into a tight line and nods slowly, as though he’s readying himself for something.

“And you still think that?”

“What kind of game are you playing, Replacement?” Jason snaps.

“I’m not playing anything. I’m here to offer you my services, sort of.” Tim gives him a crooked smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “We can go over my resume, if you want.”

Jason’s chin drops. He can’t help it. His stunned silence lasts long enough that Tim’s fake smirk slips from his face and, despite his best efforts to keep the cool facade, Jason can see he’s distraught somehow.

“You said that that would mean working for a psychopathic killer,” Jason reminds him.

“I remember distinctly saying sure, why not? to your offer, too. Also you called me worse things, you don’t get to be sensitive about name calling now.”

“Why?” Jason presses.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Tim deflects.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second.”

Jason sighs. “You suck at job interviews.”

“To be fair, I’m a trust fund baby. I’m not supposed to go through job interviews.”

Jason sighs. He doesn’t know what to think. On one hand, he is a detective. He was trained to recognize lying, to know when he’s being played with. On another, the boy in front of him isn’t your everyday crime alley crook, but an equal. Maybe superior, in some circumstances. He could have a plan inside a plan to completely fuck Jason over — and he kind of should, considering Jason almost killed him a couple of times… and Damian… and Dick.

“What does Bat 2.0 think of you switching career paths?”

“Again, I haven’t seen him in a month.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying that. I haven’t kept close tabs on what’s happening in Gotham, but I know Batman and Robin are still active.”

Tim hesitates. Jason waits patiently. Finally, a little annoyance in his voice betraying his frustration, the younger boy admits:

“Dick fired me. There’s a new Robin.”

Jason snorts. “You’re fucking with me.”

Tim looks down, saying nothing.

Jason starts laughing out loud. “Oh my God, you’re shitting me right? So the Replacement has been replaced! And you decided to come to me of all people for a new job? You want us to be Evil Batman and Evil Robin to good ol’ Bitchard?”

It’s funny, if you think about it. The Robin that got killed and the Robin that got dumped, joining forces to represent failure as the holier than thou golden boy becomes the epitome of heroism. He can’t stop laughing.

Jason expects Tim to get angry. He expects Tim to lash out and tell him to fuck off, say that he knew coming here was a waste of time and storm off. The longer Jason’s mockery goes, however, the quieter the boy gets. His expression is carefully empty, although there is an unnameable storm behind his gaze. Sometimes, Tim is so similar to Bruce — stoic, a mind like a maze, a smug little shit - Jason forgets about all the ways in which he’s Bruce’s complete opposite. Tim doesn’t do lashing out. Not usually, at least.

When Jason’s hollow laughter dies, the kid is sitting there as though nothing phases him. Not because he is a big bad bat with no emotions, but because he knows better than to show them.

The older boy breathes out slowly. “Alright, I’ll bite it. What exactly are you thinking, Pretender? Be brief and straight, I don’t have all day.”

There’s a beat. The kid is clearly trying to organize his ideas. That’s a first. Little Timmy usually has a plan from the get go.

“I want to be useful,” he says. And that’s the truest thing Tim said all day. There is something raw in his voice that grabs Jason’s attention. Something that Tim hides before Jason can name it. “You said it yourself. We can do better if we work together. Not as Batman and Robin, of course not. Just as ourselves.”

Jason crosses his arms and starts tapping a finger to his arm. “I don’t believe you’re planning on killing anyone.”

“Good, because I’m not going to.”

“Then? You’re gonna watch while I do the dirty job? Or you think you can stop me?”

There’s a subtle quirk of Tim’s lips. Jason curses inwardly knowing the little satisfied smirk is there because Jason is negotiating. As though he already accepted this insane proposition.

“I don’t think I can stop you every time,” Tim concedes. “We can make a deal, though. With me by your side, you won’t have to resort to murder that often. You promise me you’ll only kill if there’s no other way and, in exchange, I promise you I’ll make sure your cases will be solved a lot faster.”

“You’re awfully confident for someone that just got fired,” Jason deadpans.

“I got fired a month ago.”

“You’re awfully confident for someone that’s been sitting on their ass for a month.”

“I was actually working with the League of Assassins.”

That gives Jason a pause. “I’m sorry, you were what ?”

“There was a case I couldn’t solve on my own. Dick wouldn’t help. Ra’s did.”

“And, what, after working with Ra’s freaking Al Ghul you just decided it was time for a change of scenery?”

“I mean, for starters I like you a lot more than Ra’s. Second, Ra’s kinda fired me too.”

“Again, you’re really bad at this job interview thing.”

Tim smirks. “To be fair, I took everything I needed then ruined a lot of League business before bailing on him, so…”

And then there is that. Jason can count on one hand the things he knows about Tim Drake. One, he found out the identities of Batman, Nightwing and Robin II at age nine. Two, he was a rich kid and neighbor to the Waynes and now he has no family left, just like Jason. Three, he is annoyingly perfect and it makes Jason feel like shit. Four, he is the most unpredictable little shit to ever exist.

And last but not least, he trusts Jason. Jason doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know if that makes him stupid or a genius in a way mere mortals can’t comprehend. Nonetheless, he has this unshakeable faith in Jason like no one had before. Not even Dick, who was supposed to be his brother. Jason doesn’t know what to make of it.

“So Ra’s is after your stupid ass and you want me to be your bodyguard?”

“When Ra’s comes for me, I’ll have a plan to deal with him. Whether you’re a part of it or not, that’s up to you. Don’t worry about it for now.”

He sounds like he has everything under control. Jason knows how to sound like that, too. All of the batlings do. Their entire lives they’re just playing it cool, looking dark, brooding and mysterious while inside they have no idea what’s going on nor how they’ll survive.

“Come on,” Tim says, rolling his eyes. “You worked with back up and you worked alone. You know which one is better.”

“I’m a literal crime lord,” Jason reminds him.

“That’s not the same. Having someone that knows who you are behind the mask makes all the difference in the world.”

Neither of them are addressing the elephant in the room, though. The biggest question looming over them. That’s also a bat thing. Both are aware, none speaks of it, and a taste of something unsolved is making their mouths bitter. The worst part is that they know the answer, even if it’s left unsaid, but do they really? Are they really arrogant to assume they know each other enough, that they’re smart enough to be aware of the truth?

Why did you offer to take me in?

Why do you want to join me now?

Two questions. One answer.

“I’ll think about it,” Jason says.

Tim’s smile is blinding. He knows a backhanded yes when he hears one. “I’m looking forward to hearing from you, Hood.”

“Piss off before I shoot you.”

Tim snickers and stands to leave. Jason keeps listening after the door closes, after the footsteps vanish down the hallway. He can still hear the sounds of traffic down the street, maybe the indistinct chatter from the neighbors. It still feels too quiet and the egg sized apartment could as well be as big as a manor after Tim leaves.

The answer to both questions is I don’t want to be alone anymore .

#red hood #jason todd #red robin #tim drake #batfam fanfic #batfam #poteto writing

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walviemort · 5 years ago

Text

hidden blessing (3/?)

Summary: Killian thought the only thing he was left with after Milah’s death was a broken heart and a thirst for vengeance. It’s not until he gets to Storybrooke, after so many years spent in stasis, that he discovers something else: he’s carrying her child. How does this new, tiny blessing change his path? (Canon-divergent from 2x12.)

rated T | part 1 | part 2 | AO3 | 2.6k

A/N: woohoo, another chapter! I have the next one written but past that is mostly outlines...hopefully I can keep this schedule. we’ll see (wish me luck!) and thanks for all the nice comments and hey to all the new followers! and also, thanks as always to @sherlockianwhovian <3

By the time Tamara got this apparently mythic “sign” to head to Storybrooke, his bump had continued growing as it should (he assumed). It was still only just barely noticeable, if one was looking for it, and thankfully hadn’t expanded the confines of his clothing; he’d get at least another month or so in his vest before needing to find something a bit roomier, he figured. Which was all the better for keeping things concealed.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that she decided to transport him in a cargo attachment to her vessel. He just hoped the bumping and jostling didn’t hurt the babe—nor the way Tamara had tied rope around his waist when she attached him to the chair, or the way they decided to haul said chair to the clock tower.

For someone who had been accused of dramatics in his life, these two definitely outmatched him in that department. What better way to show him that the sense of relief and accomplishment he’d felt for the past few weeks was built on nothing, than by dragging him up there to reveal that Crocodile still lived?

“No. No!” he had screamed; this couldn’t be happening. He struggled in vain to free a hand, instinctively trying to protect his child, to no avail.

They had a deal for him: help them get to Regina, and they’d show him how to destroy the Dark One. He had to decide—quickly—what would be the safest course of action for him and his child.

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

Not much later, free from his restraints and with a bit of food in him, he made his way to Regina’s office. She appeared to be waiting for him.

“Captain!” she greeted, scanning him with her eyes. “You look like you've had a rough time.” He didn’t miss the fact that her gaze lingered on his midsection, but he wasn’t about to address that.

“Indeed, I have. I've come to ask you for your protection.”

“From Gold?” she assumed. “I'm surprised you'd show your face in this town after you noticed your murder didn't take.” She always had a perfect way of rubbing salt in wounds.

“Well, we've got bigger problems,” he plowed on. “That man—Greg Mendell, the one who hit me the night I shot Belle—well, he's in league with some woman. She abducted me in New York and dragged me back to Mendell. They want me to make an alliance with you, and then betray you. That's why they let me go.”

“Mhmm,” she hummed; she didn’t quite buy it, and he didn’t quite blame her.

“Well, I say that you and I make an alliance, and we'll skip the unpleasant betrayal business.”

“Why should I trust you?”

He stepped closer, invading her space. “I took up with your mother for a reason. Perhaps the three of us could reestablish in our alliance.”

“My mother died.”

His stomach fell (or perhaps it was just the nausea stirring up again). “That is sad news indeed. I'm sorry; she will be missed. But I tell you this, Regina: I knew her well enough to know what she wanted most in the world was to see you win. Now I failed in my revenge. The best tribute I could give her is to help you with yours.”

Regina thought about it a moment, then said, “Well, can I... Let me show you something.”

She led him to a small terrarium filled with a plant he’d recognize anywhere—a beanstalk. And its fruit was ripe. As soon as he laid eyes on it, his mind began to consider alternate ideas for his next step. “An escape plan? Oh, she would have loved that. She brought that giant for the beans so she could go back and start over with you,” he recalled, now jealous at the thought.

“And now I'm going to do that with Henry,” she said. “If you'll help me. This is how we're going to escape the total destruction of Storybrooke, if I can trust you.”

The idea of heading back to their land—being able to raise his child in peace—was the most tempting offer he’d heard today. But he needed to know more.

“Now when you say total destruction, including the crocodile, yes?”

“Oh, yes. Rumplestiltskin will die. If you help me.”

Well, he could hardly pass that up, could he?

She led him to the library and down a shaky lift to an underground cavern. Maybe it was because they were on the cusp of such great change and upheaval, but he found himself feeling oddly reflective; and frankly, Regina was the only one in this town he could discuss such things with.

As they walked along the stone path, he said, “You ever wonder if this constant pursuit for revenge is the reason we have no one who cares for us?”

“What on earth are you talking about?” she snipped.

“I’ve seen a life now wherein my goals were met, my revenge sated. And you know who I could celebrate that with? No one.”

“Well, I know that’s not true.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Stop playing coy; I know you’re knocked up.”

He sighed; there was no use hiding it from her anymore. “Aye, I am. And you want to know something? I spent so long on my quest for revenge, that I didn’t even know about it until recently. The mother isn’t here; nor are any of my friends, if I ever had any. Not a soul I could trust. What kind of a life is that?”

“That all sounds like stuff I can deal with when I’ve finally found my revenge.”

“All I’m saying is that, it seems to me, enacting revenge is an empty end; not a beginning.”

“For you, maybe. Not me. I have Henry. And destroying Storybrooke? Well, that seems like a small price to pay to allow us to live in peace. You can’t tell me you don’t want that.”

He couldn’t, so he sighed and extended his arm, inviting her to continue—until she noticed the cuff on his wrist. Or, rather, demanded it once he said it was Cora’s. For a queen, she was rather predictable.

“Now, follow me closely,” she said, once she’d affixed the cuff to her wrist. He felt minorly guilty for that, given what was supposedly inside it, but was truly considering reneging on his deal with Greg and Tamara. If Regina could get the two of them out of town safely, she was definitely his best choice in an ally.

Until she pushed him off a cliff a minute later and used him as bait, leaving him for dead. Never mind; he was more than ready to turn on her, assuming he and his babe got out of this scrape.

“Please be alright, little one,” he murmured as he ran from the remnants of Maleficent.

The shock on Regina’s face back upstairs upon seeing him alive was definitely worth it. He had no qualms with bringing in his associates to the proceedings and letting them take over. It was all he could do to not laugh at Regina’s failed attempt at using her magic. And he was more than content to watch her plans crumble around her.

He tagged along when they took Regina to their hidden base—after a quick trip to the lavatory to deal with nausea again (that was really getting annoying)—but didn’t stick around there long, especially not once he realized the goings-on there had very little to do with the overall plan.

From her prone position strapped to the table, Regina tried to bargain with him. “Whatever they're offering you, it's not worth it.”

“Well, considering they're offering to have me kill Rumplestiltskin, I'd say it is.”

“And you actually trust them? With everything you have on the line?” Her glance went to his stomach again. “You don't even know who you're working for.”

She had a point there—one that was sticking, as much as he didn’t want it to. He had rushed into this alliance somewhat blindly, hadn’t he? Was this what that book was talking about when it referenced ‘pregnancy brain’?

Greg invited him to stay for whatever he had planned next, but Killian declined. “Sorry, mate. Gonna have to say no. When you're interested in killing Rumplestiltskin and not torturing the Queen, find me.” And he left for the privacy of his ship.

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

After getting some decent rest, Killian decided it was prudent to visit the doctor again. He’d been through quite a lot in the past few weeks; better safe than sorry. And Doc was thankfully able to find time in his schedule to see him.

“How have you been feeling?” he asked as he started his exam, checking over Killians abdomen and other parts.

“Nauseous, but otherwise alright.”

“That can linger sometimes, unfortunately. And you’ve been taking it easy? I haven’t heard your name in the town gossip so I assume you’ve been keeping a low profile.”

“Well…” Killian watched as Doc’s eyes grew wide while he described the past few weeks, from being knocked out by Cora to thrown off a cliff by Regina.

“Uh, I think we need to do an ultrasound,” he said nervously. “That’s...a lot.”

“I’m aware,” Killian sighed.

Doc left and came back with a machine that looked like the first one he used, but this time, he picked up a much larger instrument.

“Bloody hell! What is that?” Killian asked when he came closer with it, trying to scoot away; no way that was going inside him.

Doc looked at it, then seemed to realize what Killian was thinking. “Oh! No, no, no, it’s—this one is used on the outside.”

Killian sighed. “Good.”

“I just need your stomach again. Brace yourself; this will be cold.”

Killians breath hitched as Doc squirted a cold jelly onto the slight curve of his stomach, then flipped on the machine and started to move the probe against his skin.

On the screen, a similar image to what he’d seen weeks ago appeared almost instantly—but it looked much more human-like this time.

“There’s your baby!” he announced, pointing out its limbs, heart, and brain. “Everything appears normal; and looks like you’re around 16 weeks. But please, try to take it easier from here on out.”

Killian could do nothing but grin as he saw the image on the screen, wriggling in time with the flutters he could feel inside. “I’ll do my best,” he answered, which had more meaning than just answering the question.

As he walked away from the office with another picture (and more pamphlets), he started to think about his actions over the last day or so more. Was he really in the best company to set up a good future for his babe? Did he even know how to do that anymore? (Or ever?)

When he got back to the ship, he added the new image and info to the older stash and retired to his bed. But he had an unusually hard time falling asleep as he warred with himself, and he couldn’t turn to his usual vices to knock him out.

“I just want to do the right thing,” he said quietly, brushing his hand over his still-small bump. But he had no idea what that was, or where to find it.

And Regina’s warning lingered, and his doubts about Greg and Tamara grew. That left him with two options, neither of which were ideal: strike out on his own...or seek out Emma.

Thinking of her sent his thoughts in other, less polite directions, so he dealt with that, but he couldn’t shake the idea that Swan and her people might be better—safer—company. The one barrier, though: they likely wouldn’t take him.

At least he had plans, though, sating his captain-like desire to have a plan of action. With that, he was finally able to fall asleep.

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

The next day, he was headed into town, suddenly craving the greasy fare he knew was available at the diner, and praying he wouldn’t be shot on sight. But Greg was exiting upon his arrival outside the establishment and intercepted him. “Hook! Just who I was looking for. Come on, mate; we’ve got things to do.” Killian feared what might happen if he rejected the man, so cravings would have to be put on hold for the time being.

He did hesitate, though, when Greg invited him to board his vehicle—the same one whose front end he was well-acquainted with.

“Oh, right,” Greg said when he noticed Killian’s trepidation. “You’re much safer on the inside; promise.”

Killian arched an eyebrow in disbelief; the other man’s recovery from the accident took significantly longer than his own.

“I’ll be extra careful,” Greg added.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Killian definitely gripped the handle inside the door incredibly tight as they made their way across town; it might be a more efficient mode of transport, but he didn’t trust it just yet.

Once at the entrance to the mines, where Tamara was waiting, Greg parked the vehicle and led Killian into the tunnels; though they were labyrinthine, the man seemed to know where they were going.

“It's just ahead,” he said as the walls seemed less and less stable.

“Are you sure whoever's in charge of you doesn't want you guys to die in a mine collapse?”

“Just keep moving,” Tamara scolded.

“Who is telling you what to do?” The more Killian thought about what Regina had said, the more he needed answers from them.

“You know what? That's not your concern. It's not ours, either,” Greg sniped back.

“Not your concern,” Killian scoffed. “So you're telling me you don't know who commands you?”

Tamara sighed. “Unlike you, Hook, we believe in something. We have faith in the sacredness of our cause.”

“We're here,” Greg announced before Killian could come up with a snarky answer; just up ahead, he pulled an axe off a rack bolted to the stone wall.

“So your sacred cause is pilfering a dwarf's pickaxe?” The churning in Killian’s gut had nothing to do with nausea or hunger; he didn’t like what was going on one bit.

“Regina had this in her pocket when you handed her over to us,” Tamara explained, pulling a dark brown gemstone from her coat.

“It's a trigger,” Greg continued, “and this ax, according to our people, is what activates it.”

Killian’s mind started to work quickly. “You're going to destroy an entire town, and kill everyone in it…”

“Yeah,” Greg confirmed. “Including your enemy.”

“Rumplestiltskin won't be immune to this?”

“None of your kind will be.” He wanted to protest the fact that he was being lumped in with the Dark One, but this wasn’t the time. “Once this thing gets activated, nothing can shut it off.”

Killian needed a new plan of action—fast. Quickly, he worked through his backup ideas and figured out what to do next as Greg set the jewel on a flat stone.

Greg said, “This whole town will revert to the forest it was. So tell us, Hook. We're willing to die for our cause. Are you willing to die for yours?”

He almost hesitated too long to reply; hopefully they didn’t notice. “Absolutely,” he lied.

They seemed to accept his answer, and then Greg hefted the axe aloft and swung down, striking the stone right in its center. It began to levitate and give off a blue glow; Killian just got his hand around his midsection in time for it to burst outward.

The mine began to shake as the failsafe began to work, and the three ran out of the tunnel. The couple shared a passionate kiss, and Killian used their distraction to stage his escape.

He had much more to live for than some unknown cause. And thankfully, he knew a few people in this town who’d feel the same. Hopefully, they listened to him.

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

thanks as always for reading! tags: @cocohook38 @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump

#cs ff #killian jones ff #mpreg #hidden blessing #my ff

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perriewinklenerdie · 6 years ago

Text

Sugary lips (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! So, I guess this is turning into a series pretty rapidly, huh. Well, this timeline is just so fun and easy to write, a true pleasure, I’m telling you. I have one more planned, that doesn’t mean that it will be the last one though, so we’ll see how that goes :D

Here are the links to all the previous parts in the order that is correct with the timeline in case anyone wants to read them :)

~Before we met again (How they met)

~Into your arms (Their date)

~Sugary lips

~Convincing enough (Claire’s first day working with Ethan)

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21836734

Tag list: @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352 , @aloehasrose , @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements, @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie,@choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h

Enjoy! <3

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

„Ugh, is it possible for you to go and take my exams for me?” Claire whined as she let her head fall onto the open book in front of her. She felt the soft touch along the back of her neck that made her shiver. “If you’re trying to distract me, it’s working.”

“Hm, it would be my pleasure…” Ethan replied, leaning towards her, planting a hot kiss in place of his fingers, tracing a line down the column of her spine. Her low moan made him smirk, his hands making their way to her shoulders, working the knots out of her body. She groaned in pleasure, prompting him to move closer to her, whispering into her ear. “Right after you’re done studying.”

“My god, Ethan, you’re no fun.”

“You’re going to be thankful for it tomorrow.” He smiled, pushing her hair out of the way to look at the side of her face. She opened her eye, trying to intimidate him with her hard gaze, but all she managed to do was make him laugh. “Come on, baby, you can do it. I’ll help you, and after we’re done, we can do whatever you want.”

“Oh yeah? Then I want my candy. And I want it now.” Claire stated as she sat up, shaking her head from side to side, blowing her hair away from her face. Ethan shook his head at her, laughter bubbling up in his chest.

“You’re going to get diabetes if you eat that much sugar that often.”

“I won’t let that happen. Who would be here to annoy you if I died of sugar overdose?” She giggled, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek. He smiled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side as they looked down at the book again. They focused on the matter at hand for solid five minutes before she spoke again.

“Ignorance isn’t going to save you, Ramsey. I want that candy, you either give it to me or I’ll go and throw your kitchen upside down to find it. Your call.” He sighed heavily, standing up from the couch to get her a bag of sweets he had stored only for her. He didn’t like eating it himself, he preferred chocolate over anything else, but he knew his girlfriend had a sweet tooth. Just for that reason and that reason only, he started putting ‘candy’ on his shopping list, making sure the shelf in his kitchen was never empty. The moment he sat down next to her, she tore the bag from his hands, digging into it as she started reading again.

“Keep that up and I’ll get jealous of all the artificial substances that you’re stuffing yourself with.” He teased, trailing his index finger down her arm.

Hours passed, filled with textbooks upon textbooks, him quizzing her on every topic possible in every direction possible until he was satisfied with her results. Finally, with a heavy sigh, they both deflated, sinking into the couch with a heavy sigh. Her head fell onto his shoulder and his head on top of hers, their eyes closing for a short while.

“If I don’t pass this, I’ll sue them.” she muttered, turning to the side to nuzzle her nose against the column of his neck. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her onto his lap, hiding his face in her hair.

“Tell them that I quizzed you and you passed with goddamn 110%, that should be enough.”

“I don’t know, Doctor, they might say that you’re biased.” She teased him softly, all her energy leaving her more and more with each moment that passed. “Ugh, I’m coming down from my sugar high. Carry me to bed?”

“I told you not to eat so much, but of course, you know better.” He shot back, waiting for her response, but got none back. He didn’t even have to lean away from her to know that she was sending daggers his way this very moment. “Remind me to just give you smaller portions so you can fulfill your candy desires in doses.”

“Are you going to continue on talking about how much sweets I had or are you going to take me to bed? I swear to god, Ethan, you are the strangest man I’ve ever met.”

“And yet you’re still here, Herondale.”

“That still remains a mystery to me, how do I stand your sarcasm? Oh right, I fight back with my own. My bad.” She bickered, pushing her finger between his ribs playfully as he finally stood up and started walking them towards his bedroom. As they were getting out of their clothes and getting ready for sleep, he smirked, inching away from her.

“You admitted you were wrong. World must be ending.” He raised his hands, preparing himself for the upcoming attack of a flying pillow that she sent his way, laughing as he went over to her side of bed, pulling her to him by her waist, planting a soft kiss on her lips. “We should get some sleep, you have some ass to kick tomorrow in that exam room.”

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

Claire would never know what went down at four am. She would be asleep the whole time, while he tiptoed to the kitchen for a glass of water. Sleep was what she needed, not unnecessary questions about his intentions of leaving the bed in the middle of the night. Covering her up with their blanket to keep her warm, he padded out of the bedroom, looking back at her one last time.

As he was drinking water in complete silence, his gaze fell onto the almost empty bag of candy that Claire left by the couch. Ethan hated mess, so it was almost an impulse that he walked over to pick it up. Before he could turn around to put it away, his eyes located a chocolate covered caramel candy. His curiosity peaked when he saw more of the similarly looking ones, so much so that he sat down on the couch, dumping the candy onto the coffee table, examining the sight before him.

In a split-second decision, he reached for the first one, not even checking what kind it was, popping the sweet cube into his mouth. The rich flavor coated his tongue, far better than he expected it to be. So much better in fact, that he found his hand reaching for another one before he was done with the first one. And so, twenty minutes later, what started as an almost empty bag, was now completely empty. He could feel the sugar high Claire talked about so often, he could see the appeal of it, although maybe not in that exact moment. One thing he didn’t think through was that it was the middle of the night, and he was supposed to be sleeping. Instead, he felt as though he could go to the hospital and pull of a graveyard shift without even needing coffee. Not ideal.

He cleaned up the wrappers and walked back to the bedroom, getting into the bed and wrapping his arms around her. She stirred a little, falling deeper into his embrace, and he was so sure that he was about to get away with his little sin and just hold her all night until he fell asleep, when she spoke up.

“If your lips are sticky from sugar, I’ll murder you right here and right now, Ramsey.”

He tensed up, unsure how was that even possible that she immediately knew what he did, and she wasn’t even there to see it happen. Breathing in and out, he shook his head, trying to deflect her question, distract her.

“And how would you check if that’s true.”

She didn’t reply and was lying still for a short moment before turning around in his arms, flipping them over so she was straddling him, his hands pinned to the mattress, their faces close. Grinning, she nudged his nose with hers.

“I think I have a few ideas.” She whispered before pressing her lips to his.

Unsurprisingly, they were covered in candy, making her giggle as they kissed. Their fingers tangled together as she kept his hands against the bed. Ethan’s groan made her lips tingle, the intensity of it all took her breath away, causing her to lean back, her eyes closed for a moment longer before opening.

“You’re a dead man walking, Sir.” She muttered, trailing her hands down his arms, pushing herself up into a sitting position, releasing her grip on him. Looking down at him, she could clearly see how his eyes flashed with something darker and deeper, as though he was about to beg her to kill him and thank her afterwards.

“If you want to kiss me to death, I’ll die a happy man.” He breathed, focusing on the way the moonlight created a halo around her head, illuminating her hair from behind. His hands ran up and down her sides before finally resting on her hips, pushing her down onto him as he sat up, reaching for her, pressing his lips to hers again.

She hummed softly, tangling her fingers into his hair, pulling on the strands a little. She could taste the chocolate that lingered in his mouth as their tongues touched, time and time again, making them fall into each other, deeper and deeper into their passion. There was a quiet voice in the back of his head, nagging him that he should stop kissing her and let her sleep, but with each movement of her lips, he found himself forgetting, more and more, why.

Ethan moved his hands to the small of her back, his fingers brushing against her backside. He grasped the material of a shirt of his she was wearing, suddenly desperate to feel her closer to him. Claire leaned back for just a second, catching her breath, before descending onto him again, pressing her lips to his jaw and moving downwards, tracing the lines of his muscles with the tip of her tongue. She looked up and into his eyes, smirking as she left openmouthed, hot kisses on his stomach, creating a trail from one hipbone to the other. He let out a broken moan, his head falling back against the bed slightly, panting as he felt her move her hair to the side of her neck, going back to kiss his lips.

“You should probably get some sleep.” He spoke slowly, flipping them over so he was leaning over her. She grinned, stroking his cheeks with her hands before cupping them, pulling him to her again, pecking his lips a couple of times.

“You’re on sugar high, we have to get you tired somehow. Now, come here.” Claire whispered, smiling up at him softly, sparking warmth in his chest as he embraced her once more, kissing her again, one of many times that night.

#ethan ramsey #open heart #fic #choices fanfiction #mc x ethan #ethan x mc #dr ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey choices #dr ethan ramsey x mc #dr. ethan ramsey

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ezilyamuzed · 5 years ago

Text

Ten Years Gone- Chapter Two

Description: Ten years ago, your world had changed. Ten years ago, you had met him, leading your life to never be the same again. Time is running out, but is it too late after all these years?

Word Count: 4677

Warnings: Language, angst, death (I think that’s about it)

A/N: This takes place at the beginning of season 2. I re-watch specific episodes to integrate the story in as much as I can into the real one (some things are bound to be reworked a bit!) This process takes lots of time, so please let me know what you think. Also I suggest a re-watch anyways because - come’on, they’re worth it!

Any grammatical mistakes are all my own, because I am human. Remember all comments and feedback are welcomed! If you want a tag in future posts regarding this series or other writings please send an ask! Please leave a comment if you like it, it keeps me motivated to continue! As always thank you for reading! Enjoy!

TEN YEARS GONE MASTERLIST

*Picture and lyrics used are not mine. Led Zeppelin is Amazing.

* Flashbacks are all BOLD and Italicized.

Did you ever really need somebody? And really need 'em bad. Did you ever really want somebody? The best love you ever had.

It had been four days since they arrived back. Sam was busy hounding a million questions out of Bobby about demons and going through lore while Dean kept himself busy trying to salvage what he could from the wreckage. You stayed off to the side for the most part, watching and listening to them while you worked on your own car and muddled through possible cases. There was something they weren’t telling Bobby and you, and by the way he was acting, there was something Dean was keeping from Sam too. What it was, you didn’t have a clue, but it had to be big the way that Dean kept silent.

“Hey, figured you needed a drink or something,” you stated while offering Dean a beer while he was crutched down to take off the broken fender.

“Thanks,” he replied while standing up, taking it from your hands.

He popped off the top, almost emptying it in one large gulp before pulling it away and wiping his mouth off with his sweaty forearm. The sweat poured down him and glistened off his sun touched skin. You would be lying if you said that it wasn’t a complete turn on at the moment where it was a little hard not to stare.

“Was there anything else?” He asked as he tipped it back again, taking another large sip.

“Just wanted to see how you were doing out here,” you replied with a tight smile. “Didn’t know if you needed help.”

“I got it,” he said as he handed you back the empty bottle and went back to his spot on the ground. “Why don’t you go see if Sam wants help? The boy could use it.”

“Yeah, I don’t feel like going through books I’ve read 100 times before,” you rolled your eyes. “He’s not going to find what he wants in there. Nothing about a yellow eyed demon.”

“So you know about Azazel huh?” He scoffed. “Guess Bobby filled you in.”

“Something like that,” your words trailed off with your thoughts. Azazel. You had a name now.”I mean, you probably know more than me about him.”

“Nope,” Dean popped off his lips, stopping you from finding out anything else.

You weren’t going to take his ‘Nope’ for an answer. Even more now you knew he was hiding something. You just had to try harder.

“I’m starving so I’m going to grab some burgers. Want one?”

“You really have to ask that,” he laughed while looking up to you, a little grease on the side of his freckled clad nose.

“Wasn’t sure if you had enough grease to last ya there on your face Winchester,” you chuckled before walking away.

While waiting on your order to be done at the diner, you made your way to the liquor store nearby to replenish the fallen soldiers of Bobby and the Winchester’s 2 day binge. Hell, you were the one dying but their livers were probably going to give out before then if they continued the way they were.

“Hey trouble,” a voice rang as you felt arms wrap around you from behind.

“That better be Josh or I’m going to kick someone’s ass,” you said as you pushed his arms off.

You turned to him and saw his smile, brightening up like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Didn’t know you were still in town.”

“Didn’t think I had to tell you,” you stated as you turned back around, waiting for your turn at the register.

“Well since you’re in town,” he purred out. “What do you say later tonight…”

“Isn’t there someone else that you could be asking that question?” You snapped, annoyed at how he was only thinking with his tiny brain in his shorts at the moment.

“They’re not as fun,” he grinned. “ A couple drinks and you could come back to my place. Have a good time like always?”

“Yeah well I’m busy,” you scoffed as you put the various bottles up on the counter from your basket.

After paying, you ignored him asking you to call him. He was getting attached. Like a dog searching for his bone, which was not what you had agreed to years before. Maybe in another life you would have given him more of a chance than a couple late night drunken hookups to mask your loneliness, but that wasn’t your reality. You had practically a year left, why put someone through the ache of losing you? Hurting Bobby was enough and now that John was dead, you felt the anger sitting idly in the pit of your stomach towards that yellow eyed bastard. No, you had better things to do. He had to die even if it was the last thing you did, and time was running out.

You pulled up to the house and saw Dean kicking the hell out of the spot where the fender was. You sat in silence until you saw him walking around with his hands on top of his head in defeat. Something bad had happened or he finally let reality hit him.

“I don’t think that’s the right technique to fix her Dean,” you said carrying the bags in your hands.

“Yeah, well, it’s better than the alternative.”

“Which is?”

“Nothing,” he sighed. “Forget it. You got food?”

“Extra bacon and pickles right?” You asked while holding up the greased stained bag although you knew the answer.

“Extra onion?”

“Hell no. You stink enough right now without it.”

He grabbed the bag from your hand and led the way into the house. Sam was sitting on the couch still stuck in a book while Bobby sat dozing off at his chair.

“Grub is here,” you called out, snapping their attention to you. “Burgers, fries, and even pie for after.”

Dean was already elbows deep into the bag pulling out the contents when the other two finally got up from their spots. It only took a moment of muttered ‘thank you’s’ after they grabbed their food that they all went right back to their same spots.

“You’re welcome,” you whispered in annoyance.

After eating you made your way out to the garage to work on your car. The a/c seemed to work now, but while you were here you figured you might as well give her an oil change and that to keep her pristine. You were just about to get up from pulling the drain plug when you heard Dean whistle before chuckling to himself.

“Y/N under the hood. Now there’s a sight I never thought I would see.”

You wiggled your way out and gave him a hard glare and a flip of the finger as you sat up in your spot.

“Bite me.”

He laughed at your childish comeback as he rummaged through the tool box. It was nearing dark where he should have stopped, but you could see he was just trying to distract himself from his thoughts. Your curiosity wanted more answers and getting to him was probably your best shot. Problem was that he was too damn stubborn to say more. He went to leave after picking up a wrench when an idea came to you.

“Hey Dean,” you called out while standing up.

“Yeah?” He turned towards you.

“After I’m done here, how about we get out of here for a bite and get a drink? You know for old times sake.”

You could see the hesitation in his eyes, before he gave you a nod that he was at least willing to have a drink with you. That was at least a start. Now the challenge was how many drinks does it take to make a Winchester spill their secrets?

After finishing up and cleaning yourself up you found Dean still outside, now maneuvering with the dim light of the moon and stars.

“Ya ready for that drink?” You asked as you approached.

“Just finishing up,” he stated without any enthusiasm.

You pushed your hand on top of his as he went to sand down the finish, stopping him to make him look at you.

“Come on Dean,” you stated. “She’ll be here in the morning. Go clean up a bit and let's relax for a second.”

He let out a low growl in defeat as he laid down the pad and went into the house. Dean Winchester sure was a stubborn man, but it seemed that you still had one Ace up your sleeve; he couldn’t say no to you.

After allowing Dean to drive, which took a lot of will power on your end to agree to, the two of you made it to the closet bar.

“Hey Y/N!” You heard your name being called. “The usual?”

“Make it two,” you smiled at the bartender Tony who had been serving you since you printed out your first fake ID.

The two of you sat off to the side. Dean almost immediately drinking all of his whiskey before you could take a sip.

“Jesus man,” you teased. “Let a girl catch up!”

He gave a slight chuckle as he shook his head.

“Oh darlin, I don’t think you could ever catch up to me.”

That was your opening to get to him, so you played the part of being annoyed.

“Want to bet on that one?” You challenged.

“If you feel like losing,” he laughed a little more.

“Drink for drink,” you stated back with confidence. “First one to tap out, get sick, or pass out has to do whatever the other person tells them to until the sun comes up.”

“You’re really that confident huh?” He shook his head again. “Fine. Agreed. It’s your funeral.”

You took the drink and shot it back in a gulp earning a chuckle from Dean. You wiped your mouth and gave him a wink.

“Oh baby, you ain’t seen nothin yet.”

After a pitcher and a dozen shot glasses in front of you, he was just starting to open up.

“I think the bartender has a thing for you,” Dean said while pouring himself another beer from the new pitcher after Tony sat it down.

“Why would you say that?”

“He keeps looking over here,” his eyes moving towards Tony’s direction.

“Yeah, I’m not the one he’s looking at,” you stated with a smile. “I’m far from his type.”

“Why would you say that? You’re hot,” Dean exclaimed. “I mean, if you like the whole tough and stubborn girl act you got going on.”

“Well, I’m missing a couple things he likes,” you laughed. “Broad shoulders. Big hands. The extra appendage between my legs.”

Dean has almost choked on his drink as you let the last part pop off your lips. He started chuckling to himself while nodding his head.

“Yeah, guess you’re not his type.”

“Nope, but tell me about this whole ‘you’re hot’ thing you just blurted out,” you winked while taking a sip.

Dean’s face had started to flush. Probably a little bit of embarrassment but most likely because of all the alcohol finally hitting him. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a familiar voice behind you.

“You’re busy huh? Yeah I see with what,” Josh snarked, already way past hammered to arrive at the bar.

Before you could talk Dean had turned his head and cocked up his eyebrow towards him.

“You have a problem with old friends having a drink there buddy?” He stated before taking another sip.

“I do when it’s you,” Josh seethed.

“And who might you be?”

“Dean, you remember Josh from high school. You know the one you embarrassed in front of his friends when we were teenagers for talking out of his ass like usual,” you commented. “Seriously Josh, get out of here before I embarrass you.”

“Fuck you bitch.”

“What did you call her?” Dean stood up quick, scrapping the chair legs on the floor.

“And fuck you too bitch,” Josh stated with his head held high to Dean, challenging him.

Before Dean could even move you had already cocked back your arm and hit Josh in the face so hard that he knocked back into the wall. Tony was already at your side but was only quick enough to grab him before he hit the floor.

“Better get out of here Y/N before the sheriff comes looking for you,” Tony said as he pulled Josh out to the back. “I’ll cover for you what I can. I saw self defense.”

“Thanks Tony,” you replied as you laid down a handful of $20’s on the counter. “Come on Dean. Let’s go.”

Dean looked at you puzzled but followed your lead after downing the rest of his drink. When you reached your car you felt his hand on your wrist, stopping you to say something.

“What the hell was all of that for?”

“A mistake I’ve made more than once,” you answered. “That’s all.”

“Seriously? With that douche?”

“The sex was good,” you blurted with sass. “Him being an asshole made it easier not to give two shits about anything more.”

“That’s what you’ve been doing all these years? Hooking up with assholes?”

“What else? Find someone I care about that’s too chicken to stand up for himself? Someone I have given up everything for?” You blurted back, hitting him with the knife that was in your heart all these years.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked in confusion.

You just shook your head with a scoff and a quick laugh as you thought about your impending doom all because you were a stupid teenager in love. Most ironic part is he didn’t even know.

“Nothing,” you sighed out. “Let’s get going before the sheriff comes alright? I’m already on her bad list.”

The car ride was quiet except for the old Zepplin tape that was playing in the background. When you got back to Bobby’s you found that he was already passed out at his desk per usual and Sam was asleep upstairs.

You grabbed the remains of the bottle on the desk and took it with you as you walked back outside to the night air to the garage. It was well after midnight now. Happy birthday to you. One year left.

Swinging away at it, you sat yourself on the bench, thinking about how your chance to get out of your deal with taking down Azazel was probably ruined now that Dean knew what type of person you have become.

“You know drinking alone isn’t always that fun,” Dean said as he walked in, carrying another bottle in his hands. “I do believe that we had a bet.”

“Let’s call it a tie,” you said before drinking more down in a thirsty gulp.

“Since when do you give up so easily?” He smirked. “I remember a girl who was so stubborn and brave that she put John Winchester in his place.”

“And look how well that one turned out,” you shook your head while staring at the ground.

“You know, there was always something I never quite understood,” Dean stated as he sat next to you. “What happened that day that Bobby threatened to kill him? I mean, you were with him. Did he…”

“He didn’t do anything,” you stated firmly. “I was an idiot and put myself into some trouble. He just happened to be there.”

“So what was it?”

You let out a deep breath, contemplating telling him what had happened, but now that his dad was gone you didn’t know how he would react. You didn’t know what he would even think of the fact that you were going to die because of him.

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied. “Can’t change the past.”

“True,”Dean nodded before taking another sip. “Wish I could.”

“Don’t we all.”

“So why did you really get into hunting? You were smart as hell, you could have done something else. Something less dangerous like bungee jumping.”

His comment made you snicker with the comparison of fighting monsters less dangerous than jumping off of high places.

“It became what I know, what my family does. Yeah it’s risky, but the rewards of helping someone isn't too bad to live with,” you replied. “What about you? Ever think to give it up now that it isn’t expected of you? Maybe settle down or something?”

“Maybe, but I guess I’m like you too where it’s what I know. It’s what I’m good at.”

“You’re good at other things too.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I’ve watched you working on Baby. You’re not too bad at it. Probably could open your own shop or something,” you shrugged. “Or maybe become a legit detective to solve mysteries. Having legal access to files and a paycheck wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“God, I’d have to have to be normal and stop scamming credit cards and hustling pool,” Dean laughed. “Give up all the fun for responsibility.”

“Not all the fun. You could still chase down the bad guys and get the adrenaline rushing. High speed chases, frisky women.”

“Names Winchester, Dean Winchester,” Dean replied in a horrible James Bond accent.

“Anyways,” you chuckled. “Tell me more of what’s going on. Bobby somewhat filled me in that Sam was at Stanford when your dad had gone missing and the two of you have been together since.”

“Yeah, I was doing a hunt alone and after not hearing anything for a while I wanted back up.”

“So what now? You two are going back at it or what?”

“Not sure,” He exhaled. “Kind of stuck at the moment. I know that he needs to go back. He was out and it was good for him, even if I want to be selfish and keep him around.”

“I don’t think it’s selfish necessarily. I mean, you could go with him and at least have a home to go to after being on the road.”

“Maybe,” Dean’s eyes and voice trailed off in his response. “Remember the last time we were in here?”

“You mean like 6 hours ago?” You laughed, knowing damn well that night he was referring to.

“Smartass,” he smirked. “No, I was teaching you to fight and Sam caught me kissing you.”

“Yeah, poor kid. Probably scarred him for life,” you chuckled while taking a drink.

“Ever think about that?”

You furrowed your eyebrows to him, wondering why he would bring that up after all these years. You didn’t want to tell him that you had worked hard to forget it, but never really couldn’t. The only thing that mustered out of you was a simple ‘why?’

“I don’t know. Maybe just reminiscing a bit,” he shrugged before taking another drink.

“Uh huh, I think you’re drunk there Winchester. You’re getting all sensitive and girly over there.”

“Shut up,” he laughed.

“Make me,” you challenged.

That was the only encouragement he needed to swiftly move his hands to ferociously tickle your sides making you squirm and giggle in your spot.

“Still ticklish I see,” he grinned while continuing.

“Dean, stop it! I’m going to piss myself, you ass!”

That of course didn’t make him stop. He kept at it, now standing in front of you as you fell back into the table with tears from laughter streaming from your eyes.

“Dammit Dean, I’m going to kick your ass!” You gasped out in between giggles.

“I’d like to see you try,” he laughed as he slowed down to a stop.

He settled his hands on either side of you, pushing up his weight as he smiled down to you beat red face.

“Made ya shut up for a second,” his grin widening with pride.

“That’s because you're a damn cheater,” you retorted.

Your phone buzzed and dinged of an incoming message, making Dean push himself back so you could get up to retrieve it.

Happy birthday Y/N! Hope you’re doing well and not with some rando! Got a case for you. Ya busy? I need to buy you a drink or two to celebrate after. -Jo

Jo Harvelle, one of your best friends that you met through Bobby had a case for you. That would have been a good thing, but you weren’t ready to leave unanswered questions just yet

Thanks. Might be a few days before I get out there. Working on something. Get another hunter on it just in case. We’ll get together soon. -Y/N

You finished typing and slapped your phone shut before setting it down on the table. You had noticed Dean was watching you the whole time while pretending he didn’t care. He obviously did though, where the shifting of his feet told you he was going to ask the question.

“So was that a guy or something?” He asked before nervously taking a sip from the bottle.

“Why would you think that?”

“What other type of texts do people get at 3 AM?”

“That’s very telling of you there Dean,” you laughed while jumping off the bench to stand.

You made him wait anxiously as you slowly moved and stretched yourself out before giving him an answer.

“It was a new case by the way, not a hookup text,” you stated while grabbing the bottle from his hands and putting to your lips to take in a deep swallow.

“So you’ll be leaving huh?” Dean’s eyes darkened as he watched the liquid move down your throat.

“Not right away,” you shrugged while handing him the bottle. “What about you? Leaving as soon as Baby is all fixed?”

Dean stayed silent, a battle of choices clearly happening within his thoughts.

“I mean, with what happened to your dad, I’m sure you’re going to go after that demon,” you pondered out loud, hoping he would take the bait. “I’m sure you have some plan or know how to track it.”

Dean stayed silent, now purposefully keeping his gaze away from yours. You waited a moment to say anything, but the silence was deafening.

“Whatever,” You huffed out as you started to walk past him back to the house.

His hand gripped your arm tightly, making you stop to look up to him. His eyes were searching for something, but he just looked completely lost.

“Y/N, I-“ he mumbled, still looking for the right words of whatever he was about to say.

“You know what? I think it’s getting late.”

He nodded his head while lowering his hand off of you.

“Goodnight Dean.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You couldn’t find sleep though as you laid on your bed, trying to figure out how to crack him. He was good, but you were better at keeping secrets. He’d spill soon enough.

Your phone had chimed again. Jo now curious as to what you were doing.

Are you on a case? Need back up? I’m sure I could sneak from my mom for a day or two. We will make it a girls trip! -Jo

Poor Jo, stuck in the hunters world, but not allowed to join in on the fun. You’d thought about taking her along once or twice, but Ellen would murder you.

Nah, more like boy trouble. Blast from the past is back and he’s not giving any details on what brought him back. - Y/N

It’s not THE blast from the past is it? The one who you grew up with that you’re still goo goo for? :) -Jo

The very same. Still as gorgeous as ever. Still as frustrating too. -Y/N

Well then you obviously have to stay. Maybe you’ll get laid for once by someone that isn’t a complete Douchebag. -Jo

That one guy from Pittsburgh wasn’t bad. -Y/N

Uh huh, what was his name? - Jo

Jo had you there. You couldn’t even argue it. No point in ever learning names. No point in ever telling her their names either. Dean included. It was better to leave it alone. Only after a drunken night did you spill how you almost lost your virginity to the only guy you ever cared about, only to have him leave forever and you losing it to some dickwad behind the bowling alley.

Bite me Jo. I’m off to bed. I’ll leave tomorrow night to help you if things don’t move along here. -Y/N

Good luck! -Jo

The morning sun had risen when you awoke to the sound of one of Bobby’s best up junkers leaving the property. Turning your head to the clock, it read 10 AM. Guess you really needed the sleep. Walking downstairs you saw Bobby staring out the window with a coffee in his hand just for you.

“Mornin,” you yawned as you grabbed it.

“You had one hell of a night.”

Your brow cocked up as you took a small sip.

“What do you mean?”

“You ain’t foolin me Y/N,” Bobby stayed firmly. “Sherif was already calling asking if you were still in town. Described you and Dean. I told her you were soundly sleeping with your bible next to your bed.”

“Great,” you mumbled before taking another sip. “Where is the dynamic duo anyways?”

“Headed towards Ellen’s ,” his words almost making you choke.

“What, why?”

“She left a message on John’s phone that she had a way to help,” Bobby stated with a shake of his head. “I hope they know what they’re getting into.”

“So they know about the roadhouse then?”

“No, but they will,” Bobby stated while walking away, stopping momentarily to look back to you. “By the way Y/N, watch what you do with Dean. That boy has been through enough already. I don’t know what he will do when he finds out that the clock is ticking.”

“Already handling it,” you rolled your eyes as you sat down the cup on the counter.

“Sure ya are,” you could hear the sarcasm dripping as he continued to walk away. “Just be careful and happy birthday.”

With the roll of your eyes you pulled out your phone, texting Jo that you were on your way.

You hurried to gather up your things and get dressed. Bobby was sitting silently at his desk reading lore as you walked past him to the door.

“Where ya going off to now?” His question making you stop. “Thought we would at least have our family dinner tonight. I was making your favorite.”

“A case just came up,” was the only thing you offered.

“Just running off again then? Not going to stick around for a day or two?”

“Bobby,” you sighed as you turned back around to the doorway to the living room. “I can’t stay cooped up here. You’re right, the clock is ticking. There’s still more out there that I have to do and I can’t be here if Dean and Sam are. You were right, I can’t get them attached.”

The lie you were spilling to him broke your heart a little as you saw the hurt in his eyes that you were leaving so soon. He wouldn’t approve of you following Sam and Dean. It had to be done.

“So you’re running away,” he shook his head.

“What do you want me to say? I have 365 days left. There’s only one ending to this, we’ve looked.”

“Just give an old man tonight with ya,” his eyes pleading. “After that you can run off and do what you’d like.”

“Fine,” you sighed in defeat, feeling your heart break for him. He had been the only person in the world that you really considered to be family and you knew that was true for him as well. “Just tonight. And I hope you don’t burn the steaks this time.”

He smiled back with a wink in his eye as he moved to the kitchen, leaving you alone with a feeling of guilt. Whatever Ellen knew, you just prayed that it had something to do with helping them find the demon. To find your one shot of getting out of your demonic deal. 365 days left. It was now or never.

~~~ So What do ya’ll think? ~~~~

Tags: @snffbeebee @waywardnerd67 @waywardbaby @dean-winchesters-bacon @jaylarkson @ladywinchester1967 @wildefire @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name @hobby27 @iamabeautifulperson18 @19agbrown @sonotalice @drakelover78 @aloneanddesperate @pisces-cutie @biawol @jamielea81 @fallininjapan @justkending

#supernatural #supernatural series #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #spn angst #spn season 2 #ezilyamuzed #dean winchester #bobby singer #Sam Winchester #dean x reader #ten years gone

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arcanemoody · 6 years ago

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Gotham Secret Santa

Title: Songbook

Author: arcanemoody Tags: Season 5, post-S05E07: Ace Chemicals, Bickering Like an Old Married Couple, Referenced Past Trauma, Pre-Slash, Developing Relationship, 78prm, Happy Ending Summary: Whatever Ed needs, he can have. Oswald isn’t sure how he can make that any clearer.

For @ckatattack for the @gotham-secret-santa. I hope you like it!

Oswald sorted bolts at his ally’s behest. He helped push the tables together in the library, cleared the combined space so that his partner could work on the engine of the submarine while maintaining a clear view of each schematic. All while humming to himself and emptying boxes of scrap on the side table designated for his work; filing bolts, screws, and other detritus into separate piles and compartments for easy retrieval.

Contrary to the accusations Edward liked to throw at him, he hadn’t intended for his old friend and enemy to be doing the majority of the work -- conceptualizing, working from schematics, redesigning schematics. Oswald himself found none of this intuitive, and had hoped by making himself scarce, Ed's progress could continue uninterrupted. His 10th-grade shop teacher had said once, with a screwdriver in his hand, Oswald Cobblepot was essentially a gremlin. He couldn’t even wire a lamp from a kit; couldn’t sand or carve the blocks used to make a simple standing clock. And his lack of technical acumen was matched only by his inability to commit to physical labor. A submarine was seriously outside his expertise. Seeing to their cargo and procuring the niceties and basic needs his colleague eschewed in favor of managing his labor was much more his speed. He checked on (and added to) their pile of treasure. He made sure Ed had decent food and untainted water. He sorted bolts. He worked very, very hard to tamp down any indignity he felt in each task.

"Are you humming Dinah Shore?"

It took a moment for him to realize that Ed was addressing him. "What?"

"That song. What are you humming?"

Oswald shook his head, slightly dazed. "I-I don't know. It's just something I remembered… maybe from one of my mother’s records? Put it in a box, tie it with a ribbon—'

“...would surely fill the deep blue sea,” Ed finished in his gentle tenor. “That's Dinah Shore.”

“Is it?” Oswald shrugged. “Huh. Well, if you're that desperate for me to not sing it, I think I must have the actual record somewhere.” Ed’s brow furrowed.

“78RPM? Red label? Columbia logo?”

“I think so.”

“That‘s my record, Oswald!” he shouted, taking a large step forward.

His brain froze up in the way it tended to do nowadays any time Ed leveled an accusation at him, grappling with whether it was warranted and whether the vehemence required a match in tone. This did not. He took a deep breath.

“Technically speaking, it’s my record. I bought it.”

“Yeah, along with the rest of my records, my books and my clothes,” Ed shot back. “Well, excuse me for wanting you to feel at home when you got out of Arkham!”

The lot at the police auction had been purchased through an intermediary -- the same intermediary that made a hefty donation to the policemen's union under the name of the Van Dahl living trust. Oswald had known that if the GCPD had felt free enough to use his name to trap Edward into a confession, they would probably be vindictive enough to refuse his name on a purchase order.

"And anyway, since you left them all at the manor, I'd say that still makes them mine.”

“Technically speaking,” he replied, mimicking Oswald’s earlier tone. “I didn't leave.” “You certainly weren't living there when I got back!” The air in the house had been stale the day he and Fries forced the front door open. Only the kitchen had maintained its normal, spotless, lived-in atmosphere, due to Olga’s continued employment, salary operating on an automatic deposit. The rest had fallen into a cluttered disrepair that illustrated the descent of Riddler’s madness.

“I wasn't not living there.”

“Of course not. You were on the run. Well, you were 'not living there' just enough that I gave Ivy your room.'

“No you didn’t.” Ed’s statement was dismissive rather than outraged. Not an accusation; a fact. Confirming that he had evidence to back up his claim.

“How do you know?” Oswald asked, curious.

“Because when I went there in March, my room was as I left it.”

March.

Two months before Sofia had been taken out for good.

When Riddler had broken him out of Arkham, the purple panel coat with the fur trimmed collar (flattened now and in desperate need of dry cleaning) had been slung across the passenger seat of the truck. The coat he had left in Ed’s apartment after Galavan’s murder, the coat he’d subsequently gotten back after the GCPD delivered the lot from the auction. He had been too preoccupied at the time to question its presence or how Ed might have retrieved it when Oswald himself had changed the locks a year earlier.

“You broke into my house!” “It was hardly breaking in — the windows weren’t even locked,” he paused at Oswald’s shocked expression. “I never did it when you were home. Just after you were arrested and, later, when you were squatting at Falcone’s place.”

“Right, because that makes it better! What were you even doing there?”’

“Looking for my things, mainly. I wore the same suit for months and it wasn’t like I had a lot of loose change to throw around, even with Lee’s help.” “So you turned to house breaking. How clever of you.”

“One house. And I didn’t take anything that wasn’t already mine.”

‘Just as before.’ Oswald flinched at the thought, turned away. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, refrained from upturning the table with all of the bolts he’d sorted. One could afford to pick one’s battles during a long-form escape attempt. .

“Well you can go back for your precious record collection any time you like! If the front door is still on the hinges, I’ll even loan you my key.”

Said key disappeared from his keyring two days later, around the time Oswald found the library work space empty.

-- He did not turn up to sort bolts, shuffle schematics or retrieve provisions for Edward the next day.

Or the next day.

He arranged trades. He drank wine on Barbara’s sofa, listening to her talk through the physical transformations of her second trimester and Lee Thompkins’ warnings about high heels being a fall risk and, therefore, a risk to the fetus.

“As if I would ever fall,” she scoffed.

He refrained from stating the obvious, pouring himself another glass to avoid grinding his teeth.

On the third day, he turned up to an empty room. He sat waiting in the empty library long into the evening. The sun was setting, filling the room with an orange glow when a member of his security team turned up, an anxious expression on their face.

“Boss.”

“Where is he?”

-- First Bank of Gotham. A historic granite and lime building measuring half a city block on the edge of the industrial sector on the north side.

The Court of Owls had done a good job of hiding their centuries-worth of dirty work in plain sight. Post-No Man’s Land “restructuring,“ the alley where he and Edward had made their bloody escape two years earlier was on the edge of Firefly’s territory, frequently disputed by Fries’ minions staking a claim. The odds had been in Firefly’s favor recently and Bridgit, to Oswald’s surprise, allowed him to pass through with barely a nod of encouragement.

“String Bean entered through the southwest staircase. My scouts say he’s been there a while,” she lifted her mask, giving him a pointed stare. “You’ve got an hour, Pengy.”

Oswald nodded, leaving his guards under his former housemate’s watchful eye (and flamethrower). This was Firefly being sentimental. He knew it wouldn’t last long if they overstayed their welcome.

There were more stairs than he remembered. Each floor opened onto a circular hall of doors with the door knobs either broken or missing, papers and files scattered, the mundane facade of an centuries-old evil organization that still needed three floors of pencil pushers to move their assets and occasionally serve as cannon fodder. Oswald remembered their holding cells being on the sixth floor, close to the roof. The trip to the ground level had been a whirlwind of improvised carnage -- guards, personnel, people in uniforms, people in office wear, he and Ed and tore through everyone on their way out, before crashing onto the pavement outside, covered in the blood of violent rebirth.

He found Edward on the fourth floor, door ajar on what had once been a holding area, dilapidated desks and disabled security gates, loose wires where key panel locks had once been. Long legs folded into a too small office chair, eyes downcast, his friend’s visage brought a lump to his throat.

“Reliving old memories?” Oswald asked, annoyed even as the fear and agony he’d been holding in check all day melted from him.

Ed didn’t look up.

“Edward?”

Another long moment passed before he finally spoke.

“I found my overcoat,” he said, gesturing at the pile of green plaid slung over the crook of one arm and draped over his lap. Nearly two years in dark storage, no doubt covered in mildew, dust mites, and other unspeakable things.

“Were you looking for that recently?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I hadn’t even thought about it, or this place in quite some time. I was looking for scrap steel for the outer panels, maybe some extra supplies... I took a notion once I realized where I was. Have I been gone long?”

“Six hours.” Eight, though Ed didn’t need to know just how early Oswald had turned up to the library.

“I couldn’t find any of your stuff. Or anything that looked like it might be yours. Sorry.”

Oswald did his best to contain his reaction, that Ed had done something thoughtful. For his sake. He winced against the ripple of familiar warmth, butterflies. Things he could not afford in the midst of a long-form escape attempt.

“It doesn’t matter. Are you ready to go now?”

Ed nodded, walking half a step behind as they descended back down the stairs.

“How long were you their prisoner?” He asked, after they had crossed the perimeter, doubling back twice to avoid whatever shadows Ed seemed positive were following them. The sun had long since set and what little light they had was from the security teams flanking them, throwing long shadows on the broken pavement.

“Before you arrived?” Ed shrugged. “A few weeks maybe? I was interrogated before they put me in the cage. It was difficult to keep track but not impossible. It wasn’t like Arkham -- their objectives involved keeping me alive. Though what keeping me alive meant in a city they wanted to destroy is anybody’s guess.”

Probably holding his sage intellect in storage for future endeavors, as Barbara had. Oswald felt angry on his old friend’s behalf as well as himself. He hadn’t been interrogated -- just sedated, stripped, and thrown in a cell. For the formerly missing mayor of the city, it was beyond insulting.

Ed wasn’t finished.

“They gave me haloperidol so they could question me. That was bad. I was still detoxing at first -- that was worse.”

“From what?”

“Amphetamines, mostly. And whatever psychotropics Tabitha gave me. Withdrawal symptoms ideally shouldn’t last as long as those did. I tapered off to avoid complications with my heart muscle, adrenal glands...”

Oswald held his breath.

Following Riddler’s progress after his death had been difficult from the distance of Ivy’s greenhouse hideaway in Bludhaven. Even after returning home, tracking headlines and articles stopped at a certain date, bleeding into coverage of the mayor’s disappearance. One of those articles included a grainy shot of Ed leaving a press conference at city hall, face a mask of composure, but for the downward cast of distressed brown eyes in rubbed gray newsprint.

He knew Ed had tripled his original kill count in less than two months. And that he’d kept the authorities on the run right up until Jim Gordon decided handing him over to a cabal with designs on child abduction and mass murder was a charming notion. That Ed himself had crossed that threshold virtually without a fight.

“...why?”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Uppers tends to do that--”

“I didn’t want to sleep,” his tone took on a sharp edge and he was glaring at Oswald again. “I don’t even know why you’re asking me. You know exactly how long I was there. You went to Jim first. You always go to him first.”

That jab… felt oddly personal. Oswald wondered what he was missing in that accusation— the narrowed gaze and the resentful pinch to his mouth. Never mind that Jim Gordon was the one who arrested and subsequently reported the “Riddler’s” escape and Ed, a forensic investigator, should have known the importance of following clues.

“If I could gauge what Jim knew, I had a bead on what the rest of the GCPD knew and I could plan accordingly. So, yes, I went to him. And he lied to me and I knew it -- just like I always know when he lies to me. The man has a terrible poker face.”

“So do you.”

“So stop playing with me,” he said, choking up. Having his own methods questioned was galling. And it wasn’t as though his talent for shallow subterfuge hadn’t fooled him once— back when Ed cared about him and a blind spot was established. Memories that brought a salty weighty to the back of his throat and behind his eyes. “Did you even find out ‘who runs Gotham?’”

The question was flippant, almost cruel. Ed’s answer was not.

“That and more,” he replied, somber, almost pensive; enough to deflate Oswald’s ire.

“Well. Good for you, then.”

“There are things they told me,” he said, serious now, neither chiding nor angry. “...I can’t talk about it. Not yet.”

Oswald kept his eyes on the dark path ahead, tried not to think about what could be worse to talk about than his anguish over the deaths at Haven or the almost blissful oblivion of his first murders. A distant part of his brain reminded him that it could be still another play, but he had seen Ed devastated enough over time to recognize truth from fiction.

“Okay,” he nodded.

“Things that involve you.”

“I understand. Save it if you want, Ed. You can tell me whenever you want to or hang onto it forever. I don’t care.”

The walk back to the library seemed longer than before. Oswald was surprised that Ed continued to shadow him even as the streets (what had once been streets) diverged and he headed in the direction of city hall.

“Don’t disappear again.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re not capable of scaring me!” he said. Patently untrue and Ed knew it, too. “Anyway, I thought you might have gone to the manor.”

“I tried that first,” he replied, producing his keyring from the pocket on his boilersuit. “Yesterday.”

“And?”

“I want to say the front door is still on the hinges, but I couldn’t get more than a few yards away to look. Nature seems to have taken back a good portion of your father’’s estate and... some of it was not happy to find me there.”

“Ivy. Well, it’s good to hear that she's kept up her hobbies,” he laughed, breathlessly. Guilt was rare and pulsed dully in the same pained spot in his stomach where heartbreak loved to dwell. The teenage plant maven had kept Oswald company when he had wanted no one near him and he’d rewarded her generosity of spirit with contempt and vitriol. Forgiveness was, as ever, too high a price to ask for. He’d have to settle for just knowing she was alive.

“Hang on to the key, anyway. We may need it eventually.”

If they ever went back (and if Ivy killed him on sight), Ed would still need to get inside the house.

—

After the bolts and the sonar, after Penn’s arrival and subsequent dispatch, aborted departures and new arrivals and scrambling to recover what they could from the bottom of the river, they managed to fight through the vegetation and rehome the manor.

Oswald arrived with lunch one afternoon and found a 78rpm in a battered paper sleeve on the dining room table. He reached out to touch it, wondering briefly if it was a trick of his remaining eye.

“Ed?” he called out.

“I found your record,” Ed said, closer than he’d initially guessed, initially in his blind spot and then moving over to his left side. No longer disputing ownership. “Not here. It turns out the library’s music archives weren’t completely depleted.”

Oswald smiled, turning the record over, noting the red label, the Columbia logo.

“Do we still have a working turntable?”

Ed smiled, amused, offered an arm to guide him.

“Back here.”

It took more than a few breaths to blow the dust off both record and player, more than a few minutes to turn the crank on his father’s old gramophone without overwinding, and finding the appropriate place to drop the needle. The voice that warbled out was familiar in a way that conjured images of his mother’s living room, frying onions in the kitchen, the sharp bite of paprika and heavy salt in the air… none of which echoed Ed’s place in his mind.

“This isn’t Dinah Shore.”

“No, it’s Doris Day,” he replied, a hint of amusement breaking through what, no doubt, had to be a heavy sense of injustice (Ed’s impeccable brain turning on him yet again). “I got the song and the label right but the vocalist wrong. Such an obvious detail to miss.”

Oswald shook his head, reaching out to take his partner’s other arm, squeezing lightly.

“It’s an easy mistake,” he replied, his non-bandaged eye focused on his dearest friend’s shifting expression; dark eyes misty, a hint of a smile. “No worries, my friend.”

Oswald watched Ed swallow, feeling an answering squeeze on his arm. The two of them leaned against each other, swaying, almost in a dance. Oswald hummed. -- A/N: The song Oswald sings is “Put ‘Em in a Box, Tie ‘Em With a Ribbon,” sung by Doris Day. Ed’s thinking of “Love That Boy” sung by Dinah Shore (and actually misremembers it with a lyric from “Mad About Him, Sad Without Him”). Both were released by Columbia in 1947, Doris is singing about taking romance and chucking it in the river, while Dinah is still in the bloom of loving someone from afar, alternately delighted and miserable.

#gotham secret santa #nygmobblepot #my writing #my fic #happy solstice

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thebluemartini · 6 years ago

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Under Your Spell - Nessian at Hogwarts AU Fanfic

TITILE: Under Your Spell SYNOPSIS: Hogwarts AU. One could say Cassian, a Gryffindor, has had an obsession with Nesta Archeron, a Slytherin, since their fourth year at Hogwarts. But as they enter their seventh and final year, Cassian realizes he has feelings for her and is determined to ask her out on a date before he runs out of time. He can only hope she'll agree to go out with him, considering they've spent the past few years bickering at each other. RATING: T FIC LENGTH: oneshot, 15K+ words SLIGHT WARNING: Tomas makes an appearance in this story, but when Nesta tells him to stop kissing and touching her, he does...he's just a royal jerk about it. *This fic is also posted on AO3 and FF. A/N: I was in the midst of drafting a post-ACOFAS Nessian multi-chapter fic when I got a bit of writer's block, then had read a tumblr post about what Hogwarts houses would the ACOTAR characters be in. A plot bunny was then born and I had to write this (despite not being one for AUs really...) because the thought of Nesta and Cassian at Hogwarts was SO CUTE to me!I just figured this oneshot would be around 5K words and not 15K words (!!!). I hope you enjoy it!

TAGGING some folks who have expressed interest in reading my Nessian fics in the past/Nessian-related blogs that may want to reblog :) (but I understand if a Hogwarts AU is not your thing!): @dreaming-of-bohemian-nights @queenofillea1@trash-for-nessian @nestaarcheronwillkillme @my-fan-side @strangeenemy @maastrash @cageddovepoetry

One could say Cassian has had an obsession with Nesta Archeron since their fourth year at Hogwarts.

As a Gryffindor, he didn’t pay Nesta much attention before then. She was a Slytherin after all. They surely had classes together, but he typically only hung around with his best friends, fellow Gryffindors Rhysand and Azriel.

But in their fourth year, during a Potions class, Cassian had his first significant interaction with Nesta.

Each student had been required to make a boil cure potion. Cassian had failed to make the potion correctly at first, having added snails instead of horned slugs to his concoction. So toward the end of class, he had to start the potion off from scratch and hurriedly put it together. In his rush, he had plopped the horned slugs into his brew, which happened to splash the unfinished potion onto Nesta’s arm as she walked by. Soon, big, red, pus-filled boils began to form not only on her arm but all over her body as she gave him the most horrifying glare that felt like it pierced his very soul. Then, in a bold move, she reached for the spoon beside him, stuck it into his brew, and purposefully splashed him back. Instantly, the boils covered his own body as he scowled at her.

The two of them had been sent to the hospital wing, where they were placed in beds next to each other. Despite his apology for accidentally splashing her, Nesta sent insults his way the entire afternoon, and Cassian felt compelled to fire back at her.

And ever since that day, they’ve always bickered at and teased each other.

At first, Cassian was truly annoyed with her whenever he saw her. But at some point over the years, he began seeking her out to playfully tease her because he grew to enjoy their interactions.

He wasn’t sure what it was about her. He simply felt drawn to her. Perhaps it was her boldness. Perhaps it was because she didn’t fawn over him and his friends like the other girls at Hogwarts did. Or maybe it was because she could verbally spar with him.

...As well as hold her own in a physical spar with him. In their fifth year, they had to duel each other in a Defense Against the Dark Arts class (using non-injurious spells, of course). With every spell he shot at her, she was always ready to shield herself and shoot one back. Neither of them were able to disarm the other, resulting in a tie.

Not only was she strong in intelligence and her fight, but she was beautiful. Cassian could never ignore that fact. From her high cheekbones to her luscious lips to the wicked amusement that would sometimes flicker in her smoky gray eyes...everything about her physique was alluring.

In fact, it was those captivating eyes of hers that had him beginning to question if he actually had feelings for her. Towards the end of their sixth year, he had been caught after curfew snogging with Hufflepuff Holly Langforden in a broom closet by Nesta. Upon finding them both with tousled hair and disheveled clothes, Nesta’s beautiful eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in irritation as, ever the prefect, she announced she was deducting ten points from both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff before angrily ordering them to return to their dormitories.

And yet, seeing Nesta’s shocked and fury-filled eyes had made him feel...guilty. If it was any other prefect who had caught them, he wouldn’t have felt bad at all. In fact, he’d been caught snogging other girls in broom closets multiple times since his fifth year, and it never bothered him one bit to be breaking the rules. It only bothered him that he couldn’t snog the girls a little while longer.

But Nesta finding him...had brought a weird feeling to his stomach. He didn’t cheerfully return to his dormitory afterwards as he usually would have done, having just made out with a girl. Instead, he walked at a slow pace, head cast down, with his hands in his pockets as he contemplated that strange feeling.

It was as though he felt sorry Nesta had caught him with someone else. That he regretted it instantly upon seeing Nesta open the door.

That he perhaps wished it was her he was actually snogging, untangling the crown braid around her head as he did so.

But he was quick to push that thought away. It had nearly been the summer anyway, and he had been certain he would soon forget all about her.

Well, he went off to Rhys’ home for the summer...and couldn’t forget about her.

All he could seem to think about was her.

The sight of books sprawled about Rhys’ home made him think of all the times he’d seen Nesta at the library. Rhys’ mother’s garden of various flowers had him remembering the one time he witnessed her sister placing flowers within Nesta’s hair as they sat beside the Great Lake. The grayness of the sky on stormy days reminded him of her eyes. Even in the simple, silly things such as noticing the contrast of silverware at dinner against a green tablecloth brought his favorite Slytherin to mind.

He missed bickering with her. He missed her witty comebacks and her clever insults.

He just missed her.

And that was when he knew that he had to ask her out this year - their final year at Hogwarts. Before they went off to pursue their careers, he had to figure out whatever this thing with Nesta was...and if it was something that could last longer than their time at Hogwarts.

As he boarded the Hogwarts Express, with Rhys and Az following behind him, he searched for a compartment for them to sit. They’d been running pretty late, as usual, and most of the compartments were already full.

But towards the back, upon popping his head in one compartment, Cassian was delighted to find Nesta’s two sisters...with an empty spot next to them that would likely be filled by her.

And space to fit three more passengers across from them.

Cassian’s face beamed, and he felt his heart race as he asked, “Mind if we join you ladies?”

“Oh, please do,” Elain said sweetly with a kind smile, while Feyre nodded in agreement.

Cassian nodded in thanks to them. He had only ever had very brief interactions with Elain. She was a sixth-year Hufflepuff, and he didn’t see her often. He knew Feyre only slightly better since she was a fellow housemate, just two years younger than him.

Rhys and Az followed behind him into the compartment, and he could see the faces of Elain and Feyre brighten as everyone greeted each other.

Cassian plopped down in the seat across from the empty one he had assumed Nesta would soon fill. His heart began to pound at the prospect of seeing her after such a long summer without her.

A summer of dreaming about her and hoping he could go out with her.

Elain seemed to catch him looking at the empty space beside her. “Nesta’s in the prefect’s compartment, but she usually stops by to see us.”

Cassian hoped his disappointment didn’t show on his face. The prefect’s compartment...he had completely forgotten about the special perks of being a prefect.

But that also meant that as a prefect, she would have to patrol the train’s corridor at some point today. The thought brought a slight grin to his face. He could just make...periodic visits to the bathroom, maybe linger a bit in the train corridor, with the hope of seeing Nesta.

So for the following six hours aboard the train, that’s what he did. At the top of each hour, he’d make a leisurely walk to and from the bathroom...and sometimes get scolded by a prefect who wasn’t Nesta.

At one point, Rhys and Az thought something was wrong with him for having to go to the bathroom so many times. Not wanting to admit his true intentions in front of Nesta’s sisters, he simply insisted he was bored of just sitting around and needed to keep moving.

But now he was actually bored of pretending to go to the bathroom with no success of seeing Nesta. Cassian sighed as he stared out the glass window and watched the green scenery roll by as dusk fell. Rhys and Az were still in casual conversation with Feyre and Elain...but Cassian’s anxiousness over seeing Nesta prevented him from paying any attention to them.

Cassian glanced down at his watch. It was nearly an hour since he last left the compartment and probably about two hours until they reached Hogwarts. He supposed he could go ahead and change into his robes now before the mad dash of students going to the bathroom.

Grabbing his robes from his suitcase and stepping out of the compartment, he slowly turned his head from the left to the right, searching for any sign of a prefect.

And there was none. Cassian groaned before turning left and headed to the bathroom.

Once he put on his new robes, he left the bathroom and wandered down the corridor past his compartment. Every prefect had a shift to patrol the corridor. Surely, with two hours to go, Nesta would be out here.

As he casually walked along, he eventually stopped in between two compartments and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms against his chest with the clothes he had just changed out of draped over one of his arms. He might as well just wait for her to show up...and then she could scold him for hanging around in the passageway.

And so he waited.

And waited.

And then finally…

“Get back in your compartment!” a familiar voice reprimanded him from his right. Cassian turned up his head at her and smiled brightly. There Nesta stood, with her familiar stormy eyes and her stern expression. Her light pink lips glowed against her sun-kissed skin, and her braid crown made her seem angelic despite her irritated expression. Had she somehow become more beautiful over the summer or had he simply misremembered her beauty?

Nesta held up her wand and directed it at him.

“But I’m rather enjoying this view,” Cassian said with a smirk as he stared at her intently.

“Go back to your compartment and look at the scenery outside the window if you’re looking for a view,” Nesta suggested in a steely tone.

“But this view is so much prettier,” he said, still grinning and still intently staring at her. He could count the few small freckles on her nose.

(There were seven.)

A light pink blush briefly covered Nesta’s cheeks, and upon seeing it, Cassian longed to have many opportunities where he could make her blush.

“Is that the same line you used to get Holly Langforden to jump in a broom closet with you?” Nesta asked drily.

At first, Cassian frowned. But the fact that she even remembered who she caught him in a broom closet with…

“No. But does it make you want to jump in a broom closet with me?”

“Absolutely not,” she answered coldly. “Why don’t you go find her compartment anyway and see if that line works? Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

“You sure seem interested in my love life. Are you jealous?” he smirked at her.

“Any woman that takes your attention away from me has both my gratitude and my sympathy,” she stated snobbily.

Cassian frowned again. “Well, for your information, I broke up with her before the summer,” he replied.

“What a shame for me. But a relief for her at least.”

“You know you missed me this summer, Archeron. Admit it,” he teased her, but secretly hoped she actually did miss him as much as he missed her.

“I did not miss being annoyed by you one bit. Now get back to your compartment,” Nesta prodded his upper arm with her wand, gesturing for him to get a move on.

Cassian gradually started moving, and Nesta followed him to ensure he returned to his compartment.

As Cassian slid open the door to his compartment, he heard Nesta let out a small gasp behind him.

“Nesta!” Elain shouted upon seeing her behind him.

Cassian took his seat and looked back to Nesta to find her frowning more deeply at him as well as Rhys and Az.

“What are you doing sharing a compartment with my sisters?” she asked in an annoyed tone.

“Nesta, they needed a place to sit!” Elain tried to explain, but Nesta just continued to stare intently at Cassian.

Stars, he loved her eyes even when they glowered at him.

“Nes, there was nowhere else for us to sit, except for the aisle, where I would’ve gotten run over by the trolley,” Cassian stated.

“That sounds like it would’ve been the perfect place for you to sit,” Nesta spat. “And don’t call me Nes!”

“Well, maybe it would’ve been the perfect spot because you could’ve found me in the aisle and scolded me for being there, and I could’ve seen your beautiful face much sooner,” Cassian said as he winked at her.

Elain and Feyre giggled at his comment and looked up at Nesta expectantly, wanting to see how she would respond. Rhys and Az’s eyes widened in amusement at his comment.

The seam of Nesta’s lips remained in a straight line across her face, clearly unimpressed with his reply. “You better not have corrupted my sisters.”

“Nesta!” Feyre exclaimed. “They have done no such thing.”

“You’ve brain-washed them already, I see,” Nesta said, still not removing her eyes from Cassian’s. Feyre sighed out of frustration.

“Nesta, here’s your book. It was in my bag,” Elain said, changing the subject as she dug through her sack and pulled out a book to give to Nesta.

As Nesta accepted the book, Cassian noticed it was a Potions textbook.

And that could mean…

“Nesta, are you taking Potions this year?”

Nesta didn’t deign to verbally respond to him. Instead, she just firmly nodded.

“Perhaps, we’ll share a Potions class then,” Cassian added.

Nesta let out a frustrated sigh. “I’ll see you two later,” Nesta said with a look to her sisters. Then turning to him, Rhy and Az, she gave them a cold look. “Don’t you dare corrupt them.”

Nesta turned and left the compartment, ignoring her sisters’ protests at her statement.

Cassian could only sigh contentedly at having seen Nesta. Despite her insults, his heart was pumping wildly within him.

He’d never had such a reaction over simply talking to a girl before.

If his summer of daydreaming of her wasn’t enough, this was further proof that Nesta was...different. Special. Someone he wanted to spend time with and not just snog in broom closets like some of the other girls.

Cassian suddenly discovered Rhys and Az staring at him.

“What?”

“That look on your face...I’ve never seen that look on your face before,” Rhys said.

“What look?”

“Like you’re hopelessly in love,” Az piped in.

Elain and Feyre squealed with delight hearing this.

Well, he wasn’t sure if he was in love with her, but he certainly wanted to get to know her better.

“Are you going to ask her out?” Elain asked excitedly.

“Soon. But please don’t say anything to her,” Cassian coolly replied before turning to stare out the window, thinking about possible ideas for what he and Nesta could do for their first date.

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

It took Cassian three weeks to figure out what he and Nesta could do for their date.

The date of the first Hogsmeade trip had been announced, which was a little less than two weeks from now. It was the perfect place for a first date, considering there were plenty of shops to explore as well as places to eat together. It was an excellent opportunity for them to really get to know each other.

Now he just actually had to ask her to go with him and hope she would accept.

The two of them indeed ended up having the same Potions class, which occurred twice a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And every class, Cassian made sure to talk to her and always slip in some sort of comment about how beautiful she was, causing her to blush each time before she told him she had to get to working on the assigned potion and suggested he go do the same.

At least she didn’t angrily tell him to go away. And to Cassian, that was progress. Perhaps she was slowly succumbing to his charm.

But today was the day he would finally ask her to go out with him.

And as luck would have it, their Potions professor announced he did not have enough ingredients for everyone to make an individual potion that day and they would all have to work with a partner instead. Typically, students worked with a fellow housemate, but this class just so happened to have an odd number of Gryffindors and an odd number of Slytherins….

Cassian couldn’t help but grin to himself as he dashed over to the table Nesta was standing at.

“Nesta, will you be my partner?” Cassian asked casually.

Nesta quickly scanned the room and saw everyone else had paired off already. “Well I guess I have no other choice.” She immediately opened up the textbook to the page that listed the potion directions and began walking around the room to gather all the ingredients.

She didn’t get angry or upset over being his partner.

Progress.

But now...Cassian had to do the actual asking her out on a date part, and that sent his heart racing.

This never happened with any of the other girls he’d asked out...except for maybe the first time he ever asked a girl out. But ever since then, asking girls out came easily to him and he never got worked up over it.

But now…

Cassian didn’t understand what was wrong with him.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” Nesta reprimanded him as she appeared at his side and set down a multitude of vials and jars. “Be useful.”

Cassian immediately picked up the textbook and read aloud the first instruction to her. Nesta listened to his words, picking up the jar of powdered moonstone and dumping it into the cauldron that sat on the table before them.

“What next?” Nesta asked.

“Uh, then add three spoonfuls of honeywater,” he said a bit shakily. His nerves were getting to him.

Nesta eyed him suspiciously. “Are you sure that’s what it says? You don’t sound confident.”

He just needed to ask her out and get this over with.

“Yes, three spoonfuls of honeywater,” he reiterated.

Nesta pulled the cork out of the vial of honeywater, then picked up the spoon and began pouring the honeywater onto it, hovering over the top of the cauldron before adding the first spoonful to their concoction.

“Uh, Nesta…” Cassian began, his heart feeling like it would burst through his chest at any moment. He wondered if she could hear it.

“Hmm?” Nesta was focused on putting the second spoonful into their potion and began working on the third.

“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?”

Nesta’s eyes widened and she immediately looked away from her spoon to look up at him. “Excuse me?”

“Would you like to go on the Hogsmeade trip that’s coming up...with me ?” he said, not really sure what else she was looking for him to say.

“Like a date?”

“Yes.”

“Are you serious?” she questioned him incredulously. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Yes, I’m serious. No, it’s not a joke,” Cassian instantly insisted. “I honestly want to take you out on a date.”

“Darn it,” Nesta exclaimed upon realizing she had still been pouring honeywater onto the spoon, causing it to overflow and spill into their cauldron. “Look what you made me do! Now our potion will probably come out wrong,” she said in a frustrated tone as she put down the vial and the spoon. “You and your games,” she muttered.

“Nesta, I’m sorry. This isn’t a game. I truly want to go with you to Hogsmeade,” Cassian explained.

“Why?”

“Because I want to spend time with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you, and I want to get to know you better.”

Nesta’s eyes widened even more at his confession, and she said nothing as she fumbled around for something, anything it seemed, on the table.

“So will you honor me with your presence and go to Hogsmeade with me?” Cassian asked again.

“I can’t. Someone else already asked me to go with him,” Nesta explained softly.

Her response brought Cassian a flood of emotions. First, fury because who in the world dared to ask Nesta to Hogsmeade before him? Second, sadness because he wasn’t going to be able to go to Hogsmeade with her. Third, hope...because Nesta didn’t outright deny wanting to go out with him. She simply said she could not go because of another date…

“Who?” Cassian wondered.

“Tomas Mandray.”

“Tomas Mandray?” Cassian exclaimed in disgust, his mouth dropping open. “That piece of Slytherin scum?!”

“He is not a piece of scum,” Nesta stated sternly. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m a Slytherin too.”

“I know. I didn’t mean you were scum...just that he himself was the Slytherin type of scum,” Cassian explained awkwardly.

Nesta simply shook her head, completely perplexed. “Let’s get back to the potion,” she said.

“Will you go out with me some other time then?” Cassian blurted out, ignoring her request.

“Did you make some bet that you could get me to go on a date with you or what?” Nesta questioned him, her voice quickly returning to its irritated tone. “Or maybe you just wanted to see if you could get my hopes up by asking me on a date and then stand me up for fun.”

“No, Nesta,” Cassian said urgently as he put down the textbook on the table. He grabbed her hands and stared into her eyes. “This isn’t a game or a joke or a bet. I honestly want to go out with you.”

Nesta took a deep breath as she stared back at him. “I don’t believe you,” she said softly.

“What can I do to prove it to you?” Cassian pleaded quietly.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m going out with Tomas and who knows...Maybe it will lead to more dates,” Nesta said simply as she pulled her hands out of his grasp.

How could he not have asked soon enough? The Hogsmeade date was only announced just the day before...

Damn Tomas Mandray.

The man was a complete and utter dolt and a total snob. Him and Cassian had never gotten along, so they’d always kept their distance from each other.

Crestfallen, Cassian simply lifted up the textbook once more and began to read off the directions in a monotone voice.

Nesta followed his instructions perfectly.

But there was no teasing, no playful bickering, no insults.

They didn’t say anything to each other with the exception of the reading of the instructions.

And it just didn’t feel...right to him. For them to be like this.

After having gotten his hopes up about a date with Nesta...he felt so disappointed. What was he supposed to do now?

At the end of class, they parted ways without a word to each other.

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

Cassian spent the days leading up to the Hogsmeade trip moping around. Even Rhys and Az called him out in it.

“You’re seriously this depressed that a Slytherin can’t go out with you? Let alone one who’s been moody and vicious to you?” Rhys had asked him one afternoon upon seeing him just lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling instead of venturing outside like he usually would have done.

“There’s more to her than that cold exterior,” Cassian had told him calmly.

When he had seen Nesta during their next few Potions classes, he still acknowledged her...he just didn’t really talk to her or tease her like he would’ve done previously.

And it just felt...strange. Like the joy of going to class was gone.

He’d been rejected before. That was nothing new.

But he had spent so many months longing for a date with Nesta...that for it to not happen was...heartbreaking.

And now the day of the Hogsmeade trip was here, and he still felt grumpy over the whole thing. He didn’t bother trying to find another date. He considered no longer going, but Rhys and Az managed to drag him along anyway.

They found themselves a table at the Three Broomsticks, and each had a pint of butterbeer before them.

“Do you think he’s going to take her Madam Puddifoot’s?” Cassian suddenly wondered aloud.

Az and Rhys gave him a bewildered look. “What are you talking about?” Rhys asked.

“Tomas and Nesta. Do you think he’s going to take her to Madam Puddifoot’s?” Cassian replied. “He probably is...he would do something completely unoriginal,” he muttered bitterly.

Az and Rhys sighed. “Cassian, you’ve got to stop thinking about this,” Az said.

“I can’t.”

“This isn’t even a breakup,” Rhys stated. “Just let it go.”

Cassian ran a hand through his hair. “It isn’t that simple.”

“What kind of hold does this girl have on you? You’ve never had this problem before with other girls.”

Cassian sighed as he slumped in his seat. “I don’t know.”

As he took another sip of butterbeer, he couldn’t help but wonder if Nesta was sipping a beverage just as sweet at the tea shop.

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

Today marked an important day for Nesta.

It was not only her first date with Tomas Mandray, but her first date...ever.

During her years at Hogwarts, she mostly kept to herself, not really wanting to deal with anyone else...or having the patience to really. She preferred the company of books over others, so she didn’t exactly have friends...just her sisters.

At times she felt perfectly content to spend most of her time alone and independently.

But there were times where she felt...utterly alone. Like no one cared or noticed her.

She was shocked when Tomas approached her in the Slytherin common room the other week to ask her to go to Hogsmeade with him. For once, someone actually noticed her…

Tomas was handsome and of good breeding. He came from a wealthy and highly-regarded family. His father worked in the Ministry of Magic...a connection that could potentially benefit Nesta in her future dream career, considering she wanted to work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Tomas was also intelligent and cunning...Overall, very respectable.

And the complete opposite of the long, dark-haired Gryffindor who had spent the past few years annoying her and teasing her.

Nesta shook her head. She shouldn’t be wasting time thinking about him.

Especially when she was currently trying to listen to Tomas rattle about his quidditch accomplishments from across the table.

From her walk with Tomas to Hogsmeade to their arrival at Madam Puddifoot’s, they shared light conversation. Even though they were in the same year and same house, they didn’t know each other too well.

...Yet Tomas seemed to only really care that she get to know him well. He hardly asked anything about her.

But she continued to listen. She figured he probably was just nervous.

As soon as she took her last sip of tea, Tomas abruptly grabbed hold of her hand. “Let’s get out of here.” Pulling her away from the table, he whisked her out of the tea shop.

When they stepped outside, Tomas wrapped his arm around her, letting his hand rest at her waist and pulled her closer to him.

Nesta’s body tensed as he did so, feeling slightly alarmed that such touching was happening so soon, so quickly. She wasn’t used to affection from family to begin with, let alone with someone she didn’t know terribly well.

He led her through the crowds, then turned down an alleyway that was between Madam Puddifoot’s and another shop. It was empty, but the hustle and bustle of the students could still be heard. Opening up a door at the back of Madam Puddifoots, Tomas pulled her inside, where there were shelves of various teas. Clearly, it was a storage room for the tea shop.

As soon as he closed the door behind them, Tomas yanked her close to him. “Nesta, you are...so beautiful,” he remarked huskily as he cupped her face and quickly tilted his head down to capture her lips in a fierce kiss.

Stunned, Nesta could not move away. This wasn’t how it happened in the books she read. Usually, the characters knew each other at least a bit before they kissed. She wasn’t ready for this. She hardly knew him.

Her heart was pounding as he leaned in for another kiss, moving one of his hands to her thigh against her leggings beneath the fabric of her skirt. When his other hand started playing with the waistband of her skirt, threatening to tug it down, the movement startled her enough that she no longer felt frozen. Regaining her senses, she firmly stepped away from him before he could kiss her once more. “No,” she stated forcefully.

Tomas gave her a peculiar look, but then a grin spread across his face. “Oh, you want to find a place that’s more comfortable? I know a spot…” he remarked as he reached to grab her hand.

But Nesta quickly stepped back once more so she was out of his reach. “No,” she reiterated emphatically as she crossed her arms. She wished she’d brought her wand with her so she could blast him away from her. “I don’t want to snog you, nor do I want to sleep with you, you disgusting pig.”

Tomas’ eyes narrowed at her and stared at her for a moment, taking a few deep breaths as he did so. Then, he suddenly started towards the door, roughly brushing against her shoulder as he passed. “Then what else are you fuckin’ mudbloods even good for?” he angrily remarked before leaving the room and rejoining the crowds of students.

Nesta watched him through the open door as he left the alleyway.

Fury raged through her at the words he just said, at him being an egotistical jerk, at herself for not recognizing him as the jerk he was and for foolishly believing that he could ever honestly like a girl like her. She’d been so terribly stupid and felt so...used.

But part of her believed the words he said of her. What else was she good for? She’d never been the friendliest or the kindest person. She kept to herself most of the time and came from a family of no special importance. She was a nobody...someone who wasn’t worth caring about.

And even though she strived to become someone more, someone worthy of admiration...there was always something that pulled her back from such delusions.

Before she could stop them, tears slowly started to fall from her eyes.

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

After Cassian sipped his last bit of butterbeer, he looked up at his friends with a miserable expression. “I think I’m going to head back to the castle. I’m not in the mood to walk around.”

“No, Cassian, we’ll head to Zonko’s,” Rhys said. “You always have fun looking around there.”

Cassian sighed. It was true. He always enjoyed seeing the many prankster items at Zonko’s...but he simply was not in the mood for it this time.

“Not today,” he replied. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Rhys and Az looked at him with concern as he got up from the table and walked out of the Three Broomsticks.

Upon stepping outside into the cool autumn air, he took a deep breath. He wished he could enjoy the day with his friends...but he just...couldn’t.

As he weaved his way through the many gleeful students, his mind wandered, causing him to lose focus on his surroundings. In his daze, he accidentally bumped into one student’s shoulder, nearly knocking her to the ground.

When he turned his head to look at the girl, he realized it was none other than Nesta.

...who happened to be alone.

“Nesta!” Cassian exclaimed, and she tilted her head up to look at him. “I’m so sorry!”

Her eyes widened upon seeing him, and Cassian could see they were red-rimmed...as if she had been crying.

“You should...watch where you’re going,” Nesta remarked weakly. There was no sharp bite to her reprimand.

It was so unlike her.

She turned to walk away, but Cassian was quick to reach out and grab her hand, stopping her in her tracks. “Nesta, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said without looking at him. Instead, she continued to stand still with her eyes focused on the ground. “May I go now?” she asked, feeling annoyed.

He felt she would’ve yanked her hand out of his grip by now, but she didn’t.

“Did Tomas hurt you?” he asked, his voice tinged with anger. “Do I need to hex him?”

“If you do, I’ll have to deduct points from Gryffindor.”

Cassian released a frustrated sigh. “If he hurt you, then that doesn’t matter to me. What happened?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “Let go of my hand.”

Cassian immediately released her hand. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the castle,” she said as she began to walk away from him.

Cassian started to follow her, quickening his pace to catch up to her. He said nothing when he reached her side, instead choosing to simply match her stride.

With a quick glance to him beside her, she frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Going back to the castle,” he answered.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not. I was already on my way back to the castle when I bumped into you,” he stated. “So we might as well walk back together.”

Nesta said nothing in response to that. Instead, she pointed her head forward and continued along the path.

They walked in silence for a little while, but that was beginning to drive Cassian crazy. First of all, she didn’t seem herself. He thought for sure she would put up a fight to him walking with her. Something was off, and he needed her to return to her true self.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out some goodies he had purchased at Honeydukes before he had gone to the Three Broomsticks. “Do you want a chocolate frog? They’re your favorite, right?”

Nesta crossed her arms across her chest as she walked. “And how would you know they’re my favorite?”

Cassian held out a chocolate frog as he shoved the other candies back into his pocket. “Last year, after a Defense Against the Dark Arts class where we faced boggarts, Elain brought chocolate frogs over to you at lunch to help you feel...less spooked.”

Nesta turned her head slightly to the side, and one of her eyebrows rose into an arch. “Have you been stalking me?”

Cassian shook his head. “That day, you just seemed so horrified by your boggart that I...just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Except you chose to do so from afar, instead of coming up to me yourself,” Nesta stated.

“As if you would have accepted any help from me,” Cassian insisted. “You probably would’ve insisted you were fine and then would announce you were deducting five points from Gryffindor for me thinking otherwise.”

After that comment, he could see the corners of her mouth threatening to twitch upwards, but she fought the smile. The near-smile made Cassian grin.

“It would have been ten points,” she admitted.

Cassian chuckled and stuck out his hand again, motioning for her to accept the chocolate frog.

Nesta eyed it warily. “Is this another one of your ways of trying to get girls to jump in a broom closet with you? Find them when they’re down, then offer them chocolate?”

“Do you think all I do everyday is try to convince girls to snog me?” he asked, offended that she thought of him this way.

“Considering how many times prefects find you snogging a girl in a broom closet, yes,” she answered firmly, still not taking the chocolate frog.

“So you’ve talked about me with the other prefects?” he said with a smirk.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “We always have to go over how we’re deducting points and who the biggest culprits are.”

“You’ve still talked about me,” he said with a smirk.

“Only about what a pain in the ass you are.”

“And yet who’s the one offering you some chocolate and being insulted?”

“I’m not in the mood for chocolate. Especially if it was rejected by all the other girls you probably tried to charm today,” Nesta sneered as they approached the Hogwarts castle.

This time, Cassian rolled his eyes. “It really is no surprise that you’re patronus is a puma. Always ready to pounce on my ego.”

Nesta stopped and faced him, her arms still crossed against her chest. Her eyes softened. “You remember what my patronus is?” she asked quietly.

Cassian halted and simply nodded back at her. “It’s pretty impressive. Its form is more distinct than anyone else in our year.” He watched as her face turned a light pink.

After a brief moment of silence, Cassian spoke again. “So if you aren’t in the mood for chocolate, what are you in the mood for?”

“Lunch,” she said with a sigh as she glanced down at her watch. “But it looks like we’re past the lunch service time in the Great Hall.”

“What do you want for lunch?”

Nesta eyed him skeptically. “What does it matter? We’ve missed lunch.”

Cassian nearly sighed. She always had to make things difficult. “What do you wish you could have had for lunch?”

Nesta shrugged. “Pancakes.”

“Then let’s go get you pancakes,” Cassian said eagerly.

“What are you talking about? Lunch is over. Plus, Hogwarts hardly even makes pancakes.”

“Please just trust me for once,” he said as he began walking to a castle entryway at a slow pace. He paused at the door and turned his head back toward Nesta, waiting for her to follow him.

Nesta stared at him for a minute. Her eyes were curious and unsure. But eventually she put her arms down at her sides and her feet inched forward to follow after him.

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

“I’ve never been here before,” Nesta commented as she stared at the room around her, filled with house elves wandering about with pots and pans.

“I’m usually starving after Quidditch practice, so I was determined to find the kitchens so I could come get a snack,” Cassian said.

One house elf ambled up to Cassian, lifting up a large plate of pancakes drizzled with syrup as far as she could reach, which was up to Cassian’s waist.

Cassian bent over to take the plate from her hands. “Thank you, Ollie,” he said graciously, then grabbed some utensils off a nearby counter.

Beaming, Cassian looked over at Nesta. “Let’s go eat,” he announced before turning to leave the kitchens.

“We’re leaving?”

“Yes. This isn’t a proper place for us to eat.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a secret,” Cassian said, then turned back to her and found her looking quite annoyed and perplexed. “Just trust me again. I haven’t let you down yet,” he added as he waved the plate of pancakes around.

Again, she seemed hesitant, but resigned herself to follow him again.

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

The two of them headed to the staircase and kept walking further and further up. Nesta wondered if Cassian even had a set spot in mind to eat or if he was just on some hunt to find an area to sit. It wasn’t until they had reached the seventh floor that they got off the stairs and headed down a corridor.

Suddenly, Cassian stopped in front of a wall tapestry that depicted some wizard and trolls wearing ballet shoes. There weren’t any places to sit, nor were there any rooms nearby, causing Nesta to wonder...what the hell were they doing here.

Cassian turned to her and handed her the plate of pancakes and utensils. “Hold this for a minute.”

Nesta’s eyebrow rose out of curiosity as Cassian began to walk a few paces, then turned around to walk a few more paces, then turned around again to walk a bit more.

When she was about to question aloud what he was doing, a door suddenly appeared in the wall across from the tapestry.

What the…

Her eyes grew big when Cassian opened the door and gestured for her to enter before him. “After you.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, she slowly walked towards the door. Without stepping inside, she peeked her head into the room and found multiple shelves of books, a small table with two chairs, and a few couches. “What is this place?”

“It’s called the Room of Requirement. It only appears if someone has great need of it. And we are in great need of an area to sit and eat and enjoy ourselves.”

Carefully, Nesta stepped inside the room. There were so many shelves of books in the room, it looked like it was a library. She longed to see what books were there, but she knew her stomach was getting ready to growl any moment now. She needed to eat.

As she set the plate of pancakes down on the small table in the center of the room and sat down, Cassian took the seat across from her.

“So you just...picture the room you need as you walk back and forth in the corridor and then it will appear?” Nesta asked him.

“Basically,” Cassian answered, picking up the fork and digging into the pancakes.

Nesta picked up the other fork and took a stab into a fluffy flat cake. “Why did you want this type of room?”

Cassian swallowed the piece of food he was chewing, then opened his mouth to speak. “Well, you love libraries, don’t you? That’s where I always seem to find you outside of class.”

How was it that this boy before her seemed to know her so well? This boy that she always treated as if he was a pestering pixie?

Thinking back to the past few years, it was true that he occasionally found her at the Hogwarts library. He always had to come by her and caused some kind of commotion, either commenting on the book she was reading or the faces she was making as she was reading or some other inane topic. His talking with her always sent Madam Pince scurrying over to them to reprimand them and threaten to kick them out.

Nesta nodded in response to Cassian’s question as she took another bite of her pancake. “How did you did you discover this place?”

At her question, Cassian’s cheeks turned slightly pink and Nesta knew immediately that she had to know the answer to this question.

When Cassian remained silent, Nesta prodded him. “How?”

“Because I needed a broom closet,” he muttered.

Amusement flowed through her at his words. She smirked. “And why did you need a broom closet?” she asked. “Especially since there are so many others in the castle you could have used.”

“When I was in fifth year, there was this seventh-year girl from Ravenclaw who didn’t want to be caught by her friends snogging a fifth-year, and so I happened to talk to Ollie about it and she told me about this room.”

For some reason, the thought of Cassian bringing another girl here didn’t sit well with her.

But she pushed that hurt to the side and focused on the fact that she was justified in thinking that Cassian was always on the hunt for girls to snog in broom closets.

“Wow, an older woman,” she commented, managing to summon some enthusiasm. “Did you run out of new girls to snog from your own year? Excluding the Slytherins of course,” she was quick to note.

Cassian gave her a look that showed he wasn’t too pleased with her insinuation. “No.”

“Do you just prefer older women then?”

“That depends. When is your birthday?”

“November 1st,” she reluctantly answered in between chewing her pancake.

Cassian’s mouth spread into a wide grin as he stared intently at her. “Considering you’re about two months older than me, then yes, I’d say older women are my preference.”

Her cheeks suddenly felt very warm.

But was this just what Cassian did to all the girls? Make them feel like they were special, kiss them senseless, then drop them as if they were nothing? Was this just part of the usual charm he put on?

Suddenly no longer feeling hungry, Nesta put down her fork and got up to explore the books in the room.

Running her fingers along the spines of the books, she read through the titles. Spellbound After Midnight. Romancing the Womanizing Wizard. Charming the Enchantress.

They all appeared to be romance novels.

Her favorite.

None of the titles seemed familiar. When she was at home, she was only able to read muggle romance novels. The Hogwarts Library only contained a handful of non-school-related books, so to have shelves of unread romance novels written by witches and wizards before her was a complete thrill.

Pulling one book off the shelf, she made her way to the crimson couch on the other side of the room. Sitting down, she opened the book and began reading the first chapter.

A few pages in, she saw Cassian approach her out of the corner of her eye and proceed to plop down in the couch across from her.

When she turned the page, she could feel him staring at her.

A few more page turns later, she could still feel him staring at her.

Putting her book down in her lap, still opened to the page she was on, she looked up at him. “Don’t you want to read a book or something?” she questioned him in an irritated voice.

“I am perfectly content studying and memorizing the features of your face,” he answered.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Stop lying.”

“I’m not lying,” he said as he continued to stare at her. “You’re beautiful.”

The same words Tomas had said to her earlier that day.

Was Cassian just like him, only more patient? Was he willing to spend more time trying to flatter her to get her to sleep with him?

But the way Cassian said those words was different compared to the way Tomas said them. Tomas’ tone made it sound like he was praising a prized object he was thrilled to have in his possession, while Cassian sounded like he was truly admiring her.

Of course, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was how he treated all the other girls he’d been with.

And yet, she remained here in this room with him, instead of bursting out as soon as she was fed. The fact that he remembered her patronus, her love of chocolates and reading...perhaps that’s what made her stay. What made her want to find out if Cassian spoke truthfully about wanting to get to know her better.

“Well, I can’t read if you’re staring at me.”

“I apologize,” he said, finally shifting his gaze over to a nearby shelf.

Nesta looked over to the shelves too and saw one was filled with games and puzzles instead of books. Closing her book and placing it beside her on the couch cushion, she stood up. “Are you up for a wizard’s chess match?”

Cassian grinned a little too mischievously. “Absolutely. Prepare to be beaten, Archeron.”

“We’ll see about that.”

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

“I demand a rematch,” Cassian insisted after Nesta had just shouted “Checkmate!” and smiled proudly at him. He was too competitive for his own good.

But he was also obsessed with the focus Nesta had during the game. As she analyzed the board and the pieces throughout, he could envision the cogs within her brain clinking together as she determined what to do next. From the way her lips would move slightly to the left when she was deep in thought to the way she would occasionally squint her eyes when looking at the board, Cassian was mesmerized. And then when she would make her move, she did so with such confidence and assuredness, it was captivating.

“We’ve already played three times,” Nesta, sitting on the floor on the opposite side of the chess board from him and completely clueless to the effect she had on him, pointed out. “Can your ego simply not take being beaten by a girl?”

“No. I just want to learn how to play like you. How did you learn to play like that?”

“My father taught me how to play muggle chess when I was young,” Nesta revealed. The expression on Nesta’s face turned glum, causing Cassian to frown.

“What’s wrong? What did I say?” he immediately asked, nervous that he was ruining this moment with her.

Nesta shook her head. “It’s nothing. It’s just…” she trailed off.

“Go on,” Cassian encouraged her gently.

“My father...made some bad investments and ran his business into the ground a few years ago. He hasn’t been the same since.”

“How so?”

Nesta took a shaky breath. “It’s like he’s lost the will to live. He hasn’t even bothered trying to find another job. He doesn’t even want to take care of our family, nor does he really care to hear from us. Thankfully, we have Hogwarts to come to for most of the year…”

Cassian’s frown grew deeper. He was aware that their mother had passed away long before she came to Hogwarts. That meant they only had their father to provide for them…

“What does that mean? What happens during the summers?”

“Feyre managed to get lucky this past summer and got a job at a nearby grocery store thanks to a friend. Elain and I have had trouble getting jobs since we can only work during the summers, but sometimes the neighbors will pay for us to do chores for them around the house. We get by,” she shrugged.

Cassian stopped himself from letting his mouth drop open in shock. “What happens to your father when you’re here at Hogwarts?”

“Our neighbors help take care of him.”

Cassian shook his head. “Nesta, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. If I had known…”

Nesta held up her hand and cut him off. “Stop it, Cassian. There is no need to beat yourself up for it.”

Cassian stared at her, sadness filling his heart. The whole summer, he had been obsessing over her and thinking of her nearly everyday. Meanwhile, she’d been trying to...survive.

“If it’s any consolation...my father walked out on me and my mother shortly after I was born. He went to be someone else’s husband and father. And then my mother passed away a few years later,” Cassian revealed quietly.

Nesta glanced up at him with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry, Cassian,” she whispered.

“I didn’t mean for you to feel sorry for me. I just wanted you to know that...you’re aren’t alone in having an...awful dad.”

“It’s nice to know there’s someone...who understands,” she said gently.

Cassian gave her a small smile. “It is,” he agreed. His breathing slowed as he stared into her eyes and Nesta stared back in silence. He wished he could lean forward and kiss her, but he still couldn’t tell just yet if she liked him or not.

Suddenly, Nesta broke their staring contest “Let’s play another game,” she said abruptly as she stood up to walk past him and look at the shelf of games. “How about Exploding Snap?”

“How about Truth or Dare?” Cassian suggested instead, twisting his body to look up at her from his spot on the ground and smirk at her. Maybe he could better figure out Nesta’s feelings during such a game.

Nesta scowled at him.

“Too scared to play?” he teased her.

She crossed her arms against her chest. “Fine. Truth or dare?”

Cassian thought for a moment. “Truth.” Nesta clasped her hands behind her back as she strolled about the room, looking again at all the books that surrounded them. “How many girls have you brought to this room, including me?”

“One.”

Nesta halted her steps to look back at Cassian sitting on the floor. She looked completely bewildered. “I said ‘including me.’”

“I know,” he said. “It’s only been you.”

“But the seventh-year Ravenclaw - ”

“I ended up not bringing her here after realizing I shouldn’t be with someone who’s ashamed to be seen with me.”

“Wow, so you actually have standards,” she remarked.

Choosing to let her comment slide, he resumed their game. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she instantly said.

There wasn’t much that could be done to embarrass someone when you’re playing in a secret room with no other people around. And he certainly didn’t want to leave the room just yet for risk of ruining this time with Nesta. Just the two of them had been...pleasant. “I dare you to give me a compliment.” He looked at her devilishly.

Nesta took a deep breath and squinted her eyes, while in deep thought.

“Any day now,” Cassian pressed her when she remained quiet for over a minute.

“My apologies. It’s hard to think of something,” she said casually as she sauntered around him.

Looking unimpressed, Cassian crossed his arms against his chest and waited.

And waited.

“I suppose…” Nesta began. “You’re not terrible at Quidditch.”

“That was barely a compliment,” Cassian complained. But the fact she had paid attention to him playing quidditch was...intriguing.

“But a compliment, nonetheless. Truth or dare?” she quickly questioned him.

Cassian pouted. “Truth,” he grunted.

“How many girls have you kissed since being back at school this year?”

Cassian perked up his head. “Why do you care about that?”

“I’m not required to tell you why I’m asking a question.”

Such an infuriating, stubborn girl, this one…

And yet, he knew that was partially why he liked her so much.

“Zero,” he answered emphatically.

Nesta stopped and whipped her head in his direction. “Really?”

Cassian nodded. “Really.”

“I’m shocked. We’ve been back for over a month now, and you haven’t kissed anyone?”

“Nope,” he said as he got up off the floor and started walking towards her.

It had actually been over four months since he’d kissed a girl.

Because there was only one girl he wanted to kiss...

“I figured you would’ve kissed at least one girl a week.”

“Guess you don’t know me as well as you thought,” he stated as he leaned against the bookshelf right beside her.

“Or you’re losing your charm,” she retorted, crossing her arms against herself as she tilted her head up at him.

Dramatically, Cassian put his hand over his heart. “You wound me,” he cried out.

Nesta rolled her eyes.

“But you do admit then that at some point, I was charming?” he eagerly replied.

“No, I misspoke. I think the girls have finally realized you never had charm to begin with.”

Cassian smirked. “You admitted I was charming.”

Nesta groaned. “Stop gloating. I pick ‘dare,’ by the way.”

“I dare you to tell me why you want know how many girls I’ve kissed and how many I’ve brought to this room.”

“That’s not a real dare! That’s a ‘truth’ disguised as a dare,” she yelled at him.

“You didn’t give me a true compliment!” Cassian shouted back.

“Ugh, fine.” Nesta sighed. “I’m just trying to see if…”

“If…?” Cassian encouraged her to go on.

“If I’m just...one of the many,” Nesta finished quietly.

Cassian’s gaze lost its cheeky amusement. “Nesta,” he said as he stood upright and grabbed her hands. “You are not just one of the many. I spent nearly every day of my summer thinking about you. I’ve never brought a girl to the kitchens before. There’s not even a girl I’ve probably talked to as much as you, with all the times we’ve teased each other over the years.”

Nesta stared up at him thoughtfully.

And then Cassian’s stomach chose that precise moment to grumble.

Effectively ruining the moment.

Nesta pulled her hands away from him and looked down at her watch. “I guess it’s already dinnertime…”

“I guess we should head off to eat with the other students in the Great Hall then…” Cassian said, hating himself for saying it, not wanting their time together to end. He’d much rather eat with her alone again.

“I guess we should,” she stated reluctantly.

“But I don’t really want to,” he admitted.

“I don’t...really want to either,” she agreed.

It felt like his stomach did somersaults when he heard her say those words. Beaming, he held out his hand in invitation for her to grab it again. “To the kitchens, then?”

And with a demure smile, she grasped it tightly, permitting him to lead the way. “To the kitchens.”

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

It was when they made their way down the many staircases that an idea came to Cassian for where he and Nesta could eat their dinner. It just required a few more items…

When they had arrived at the kitchens, he had instructed Ollie to prepare two dinner meals to-go and told Nesta to wait for him there while he retrieved a few things from his room.

As he rushed back to the kitchens, he only prayed that she had indeed stayed in the kitchens and wasn’t having seconds thoughts about eating dinner with him.

Finally - finally - he had gotten some sort of sign that maybe - just maybe - she liked him back.

Or could potentially like him.

Or at least liked him enough to spend more time with him.

...If she didn’t back out.

The thought pushed him to move his feet even faster, nearly tripping over himself as he passed all the chattering witches and wizards within the various portraits along the walls.

Out of breath and bearing a blanket and a cloak, he couldn’t help but smile when he saw Nesta still waiting for him, holding a basket that he bet contained the food prepared by the house-elves.

“You have the food?” he asked to confirm.

Nesta gave him a firm nod.

“Let’s go,” he stated, beginning to walk out of the kitchens.

“Is this another secret?” Nesta asked as she followed him.

“You bet,” Cassian exclaimed with a wink back at her.

This time, she didn’t look hesitant and unsure. Instead, she seemed...intrigued and eager.

More progress.

Once they went up the staircase and reached the ground level, Cassian leisurely strolled alongside Nesta and guided her outside through one of the castle’s doors

“We’re going outside?” Nesta wondered. “I don’t have my - ”

“I got you covered,” Cassian cut her off, knowing she was going to say she didn’t have her cloak or jacket. He halted his steps. “Hold this,” he instructed as he handed her the blanket. He then unfurled the cloak within his arms and hooked it around Nesta’s shoulders.

Seeing her wear his cloak made her look even more attractive to him.

Why did he do this to himself…

She seemed grateful for the gesture...until she tilted her head down to look closer at the cloak she was wearing and grimaced.

“What?”

“It has the silly Gryffindor emblem on it,” she noted before looking up at him. “But I suppose I will survive wearing it just for one night…” She finished with a soft smile.

Cassian chuckled as he took the blanket out of her arms. “I sure hope so.”

As they resumed their walk, a gentle, cool breeze blew past them. With his free hand, Cassian grabbed Nesta’s free one and eagerly led her down the slope toward the Great Lake. He beamed when she tightened her grasp on his hand.

The sun was just beginning to set over the lake waters. Once they were near the edge of the lake, Cassian let go of her hand to lay down the blanket. Nesta promptly set down the basket of food and sat down upon the blanket. Cassian followed suit.

Upon opening the basket, they found a delectable meal of roast beef, mashed potatoes, peas, treacle tart for dessert and bottles of pumpkin juice.

As they dug into their meal, they watched the sun descend over the glistening waters.

“It’s beautiful,” Nesta commented softly.

Cassian inclined his head toward hers. “Not as beautiful as you,” he whispered.

Nesta groaned. “You really need some new material.”

“Well everything about you is impossible to properly compliment,” he said in his smooth-talking voice. “You are simply indescribable.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and shook her head back and forth as she swallowed some potatoes. “Good grief, you are so...ridiculous!”

“I think what you meant to say was ‘Cassian, you are so ridiculously handsome, and I can’t imagine spending this beautiful night with anyone else.’”

“‘Can’t imagine spending the beautiful night with anyone else?’” she exclaimed incredulously. “I certainly can! If I was here with Hugh Grisman from Hufflepuff, he’d be too frightened to talk.”

Despite being thwarted of being given a compliment from Nesta once more, Cassian’s eyes still contained a hint of amusement.

“Or, imagine if I was here with Lawrence Milton from Ravenclaw. He would be going on and on about all the science behind the sun,” Nesta joked as she turned her gaze upward.

“Imagine if you were here with Walton Azley from Gryffindor,” Cassian piped in. “He’d probably try to convince you to go walking through the water with him in search of some obscure magical creature.”

Nesta chuckled, and it was a sound that Cassian wished he could hear over and over again. He started laughing with her.

“If I was with Artemis Braxton, he’d probably charm me with his singing voice and sweep me in arms to -”

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Cassian sternly interjected and stopped laughing. While Artemis Braxton was a famous singer who would likely never be on a date with Nesta, the thought of someone else wooing her and wrapping his arms around her sent jealousy running through him.

From the way Nesta smirked at him, he could tell she was well aware how that image made him feel.

“You have no right to get in a huff about this,” she said rather calmly. “Especially since you’ve probably been here with - ”

“I haven’t been on a picnic with any other girl,” Cassian was quick to reply. “It’s only been you,” he stated earnestly.

The smug grin vanished from her face. Instead, she looked pensively down at her food as she ate.

Cassian let out a slow breath he didn’t realize he was holding and resumed eating his peas, while Nesta continued to pick at her roast beef. The sun’s last remaining rays faded from the sky, and for a short while, they sat in silence and simply listened to the whistling of the wind.

But then, Cassian heard Nesta suddenly put her utensils down on the now empty plate in her lap. In the darkness, she focused her gaze down at the plate.

“Earlier today, Tomas...he just wanted me for sex,” she whispered. “And then when I rejected him, he said he didn’t know what fuckin’ mudbloods were even good for then.”

Rage flowed through Cassian’s body. He was livid, absolutely livid. His hands, which gripped his fork and his plate, began to tremble from his anger. Tossing the plate to the side, he hurriedly stood up off the ground.

He was going to pummel that piece of…

“Lumos,” he somehow heard Nesta say over the sound of his raging heartbeat. “Where are you going?” she asked angrily as she held out her lit wand so she could see him.

“I’m going to murder Mandray,” he stated seriously.

“No, you aren’t. Sit back down,” she ordered sternly. “Now.”

“You don’t deserve to be treated that way!” Cassian cried out, trying to make her understand. But when Nesta’s glare did not disappear, he begrudgingly sat back down on the blanket.

“You don’t need to be causing anymore trouble,” she said as she grabbed hold of his hand and intertwined their fingers. “If you become a murderer, I don’t want to have to see that handsome face of yours hidden behind the bars of Azkaban.”

Cassian suddenly sat up straight. “Did you just willingly compliment me?”

Nesta nodded. “Perhaps you should document this moment since it’s such a rare occurrence and probably won’t happen ever again.”

If he wasn’t so enraged, Cassian would’ve chuckled at her comment. “Can I at least hit him with the bludger multiple times during our next match against Slytherin?” he wondered aloud.

“Sure.”

He stared at her in the glow of her wand for a moment. “You’re really going to let him get away with this?”

“Of course not. In time, I will retaliate,” she remarked with a delighted sneer.

“Good,” he said with a conniving smile. “Let me know if you need any help.”

“You’ve already helped me enough today,” she said seriously and squeezed his hand. Nesta dropped her lit wand onto the picnic blanket, then began shifting her body so she was right beside him, her thigh grazing his. She rested her head on his shoulder. Cassian released her hand and instantly wrapped it around Nesta’s back to pull her closer. He inhaled her lavender scent and tried to calm his heartbeat that was racing from the excitement of being so close to her.

“Thank you, Cassian,” she said softly as she tilted her head up, her nose brushing briefly against his cheek. “For today,” she added.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back.

Those eyes...they were like magnets. Always pulling him in and making him never want to remove his gaze.

And those luscious lips...they called to him. He wanted to kiss her so badly…

Slowly inching his face toward hers, Cassian took a deep breath, and he could see Nesta doing the same.

But suddenly, her eyes widened in shock and she shot up to her feet. “Oh no,” she gasped.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, feeling alarmed and standing up with her.

She glanced down at her watch. “I have to go. I completely forgot about my shift tonight to patrol some of the corridors.”

Hurriedly, she took the cloak off her body and handed it off to Cassian.

But she couldn’t leave. Not yet...not when they had come so far.

“Just forget about it. Don’t go,” he pleaded as he tossed his cloak to the ground and attempted to grab hold of Nesta’s wrist.

“I have to leave,” she said firmly, dodging his grasp as she picked up her wand. “Goodnight,” she said before rushing off to the castle door.

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

Despite Nesta’s abrupt departure, Cassian was in a state of elation for a while.

He had finally been on a date with Nesta. And now he couldn’t wait to ask her to go out on a second one.

Their time together was so...simple and quaint. But they were alone, and he had felt so relaxed around her. It was just...different from when he’d spent time with other girls. He didn’t have to feel like he was pretending to be someone else. She was someone who could relate to him and just...understand. Someone he could be vulnerable with.

Plus, he finally got to hear her admit he was handsome.

Then there was the fact they they held hands multiple times and she let him wrap his arm around her...signs that she didn’t truly despise his company. That she felt something for him in return.

For the evening after their date and the next couple of days, it was like he was in a daze. Rhys and Az wondered what was wrong with him. He kept humming to himself as he walked through the corridors of the castle, and he could hardly pay attention to what was going on around him. Every time he turned a corner, he kept hoping that Nesta would be there, happening to walk in his direction.

Alas, he wasn’t so lucky.

At meal times, he’d stretch out his neck to take a peek over at the Slytherin table, hoping he’d find her among the crowd and throw a wink her way. Maybe even offer to whisk her off to the kitchens again.

But he never saw her.

But when their Potions class on Tuesday was approaching, Cassian was ecstatic at the thought of finally seeing Nesta and asking her out again...with hopefully more success this time around. He even arrived to class fifteen minutes earlier with the hope that he could talk to her before class. And he never got to class early.

But she never showed up for class...which seemed so unlike her. He’d never known her to miss class.

So that afternoon, he decided to attempt to seek her out. He went to the library for a while, pretending to study as he periodically looked around for Nesta’s head bent over a book as he so often saw in the past.

But there was no sign of her.

On Wednesday afternoon, he hung around outside the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory for a while, thinking he could at some point catch her coming in or out. He ended up receiving a lot of dirty and suspicious looks from various Slytherins...none of them from the one he was looking for. When he saw one seventh-year Slytherin female leaving the dormitory, he blatantly asked her if Nesta was inside. The female frowned at him - seemingly perturbed that a Gryffindor was talking to her - and reluctantly informed him that she hadn’t seen her since that morning.

At least someone had seen her and he knew she was alive.

On Thursday, he was thrilled once more about going to Potions class, again getting to the class early, because surely Nesta wouldn’t miss two classes…

But once again, she never showed up.

And so Cassian’s euphoria began to dampen.

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

The night Nesta patrolled the corridors after her picnic with Cassian, she found it...terribly difficult to keep her mind off of him.

They had almost kissed and...she could not believe herself. If she didn’t remember her patrol shift, she probably would’ve let him.

The thought flustered her.

This was Cassian she was talking about. Cassian!

A boy who took every chance to annoy her, to tease her, to argue with her, to make sarcastic comments and innuendos to her constantly for the past several years.

It was ridiculous.

Her and him together...preposterous!

It simply didn’t make sense. He cared more about quidditch than studying for his N.E.W.T. exams. He didn’t come from a high social standing family that could help advance her career, which is what she had always pictured for herself.

She may have read tons of romance novels with grand gestures and declarations of love, but...she never pictured such things happening to her. Others had always considered her unkind, snobby, and unlikable. It’s what made it so hard for her to make friends.

So she never thought she’d ever be a part of a swoon-worthy scenario where a boy got her pancakes because she was hungry and took her to a room that he had transformed into one of her favorite places and then take her on a picnic by the lake.

Nesta groaned. She had admitted to herself that Cassian’s actions were swoon-worthy.

What had gotten into her? How could she let her barriers come down? She even started telling him about her issues with her father. She hardly even discussed such things with her sisters. And then he even opened up to her about his parents. She had never known that his father walked out on him…

No. She had to stop thinking about this. She needed to forget it. He had his date with her, he got what he wanted. Now, he would probably never want to hang out with her ever again.

To her both her displeasure and her pleasure, a visual of him and his silly smirking face formed in her mind as soon as she awoke Sunday morning.

And then when she went to brush her hair and put it in a braid crown, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have Cassian’s hands run through her hair.

Ugh. Why would she imagine such things?

Things that are not meant to be and should never happen.

She’d need to keep her distance from him for a little while. Give herself space to allow herself to forget about him.

(Even though part of her was also dying to see him again.)

So for the next few days, she spent most of her time in the Room of Requirement, which she figured no one else would be able to enter if it was in use. If she hung out in the library, she knew there was a chance she could run into him. And she certainly couldn’t eat her meals in the Great Hall, or she would see him. Luckily, Cassian had shown her how to get to the kitchens…

But unfortunately in her determination to not see him, she kept being reminded of him because she was going to the places he had introduced her to.

She still attended her classes, but when Tuesday rolled around, she just knew she couldn’t face him yet. She had to get herself together and build up her walls around her once more before she saw him again. So...for once in her life, she skipped class.

Then skipped for the second time in her life when it was time for Potions class on Thursday.

Because. She. Still. Could. Not. Get. Him. Out. Of. Her. Head.

She wanted to scream.

Every day, she thought of him and wished he was with her.

But then she would get frazzled and wonder why she felt this way.

Was she completely delusional? Was she sick? What was making her feel this way? Why couldn’t she just forget him already?

This was how she envisioned what being under the spell of a love potion would feel like.

A love potion...

Could he have possibly slipped her a love potion at some point?

That had to be it. There was just no way she would feel this way on her own accord.

But now she was fuming...over the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about him on top of the possibility that he had slipped her a love potion.

Now she knew she needed to see him and get to the bottom of this madness once and for all.

She glanced down at her watch. It was roughly an hour before dinner. He could be anywhere...perhaps in his dormitory or at quidditch practice.

Quidditch practice.

Hurriedly, she grabbed her satchel to search for her notebook that contained schedules of classes, quidditch, clubs, and more for prefect purposes. Opening her notebook, she flipped through the pages to the one she was looking for.

Quidditch Practice - Thursdays

4:00pm - Ravenclaw

5:00pm - Gryffindor

Without even a second thought, she departed the Room of Requirement and headed straight to the quidditch pitch.

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

When she arrived, she indeed found the Gryffindor team huddled together on the ground, finishing up their practice.

With her arms crossed, she walked onto the field and leaned back against the barricade that separated the stands from the field. Her eyes found Cassian’s tall form in the distance immediately. His silky, dark hair was pulled back into a bun and his athletic wear made his muscles look more pronounced.

Nesta scolded herself and reminded herself to remain focused. She needed to confront Cassian and find out if he gave her a love potion. She just needed to wait a little bit, since she certainly didn’t want to make a scene in front of everyone else.

The Gryffindor team huddle broke apart, and when Cassian stepped away, his eyes instantly found hers and his face broke out in the widest grin she’d ever seen on anyone.

No, the smile did not make her weak in the knees.

She refused to let it.

...but failed.

Her whole plan had been to stomp over to him and make her frustrations known. Instead, he was now gleefully jogging toward her with his broom in his hand while the rest of the team dispersed, heading to the changing rooms.

Her body refused to move. Too frozen from that damn smile and the way he was currently looking at her.

“Nes,” he said when he approached. “Where have you been? Did something happen?” His voice was filled with concern, and his free hand neared her as if he was about to grab her hand.

She certainly could not allow that to happen. Lifting up her wand in her right hand, she jabbed its tip into the center of his chest to prevent him from going any further. “Stop it right there,” she angrily ordered. “And don’t ever call me Nes.”

Upon hearing her tone, Cassian frowned and outstretched his empty hand in confusion. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Nesta groaned and she jabbed the tip of her wand into his chest again. “I am not your sweetheart.”

“Ok, put your wand down,” Cassian requested, his voice sounding like he was trying really hard to control his temper. “And Nesta, please tell me what’s wrong? I’ve been worried about you. You missed class, and you never miss class -”

“No,” Nesta interrupted him, disregarding his request to put her wand down and instead tapping his chest with it. “No, you don’t get to say these things and act like you know me so well!”

“But I do know you,” Cassian said with traces of frustration and impatience. “At least a little! And I want to get to know you better!”

“Well, giving someone a love potion is a lousy way of showing that!” Nesta shouted back, and a look of complete and utter bewilderment covered Cassian’s face.

“What? You think I gave you a love potion?!” Cassian exclaimed. “I’ve done no such thing.”

“Don’t lie to me! Why else would I be feeling this way and constantly thinking about -” Nesta began to say, but abruptly stopped herself from saying anything more.

“Thinking about what? Me?” he questioned her, infuriated. “Is it so ridiculous to think you might actually like me that you assumed I must have used a love potion on you?”

Nesta slowly pulled her wand away from him and brought it down to her side as she stared at the ground, avoiding his gaze.

Cassian looked down at her peevishly. “I thought you knew me enough to know I would never do such a thing. I want to date you and be with you, but only if you truly want to be with me too. I loved spending time with you on Saturday, and it seemed like you enjoyed it too. But maybe you’re only accusing me of using a potion because you’re ashamed at the thought of liking me?”

Nesta kept staring at the ground beneath her feet, taking slow and steady breaths as she listened to Cassian’s hurt voice.

She gave him no reply.

“No denial, then?” he asked in a pained voice. “Well, I suppose I should at least be flattered that you think I’m smart enough to concoct a love potion that lasts for several days, when most only seem to last for less than twenty-four hours with one dose. Goodnight, Nesta,” he said gruffly before turning around and hurriedly marching off to the quidditch changing rooms.

Nesta lifted her head and watched him walk away.

This all wasn’t some game to him. She should’ve known that just based on all that he did for her on Saturday.

The anguish in his voice just now further proved it.

And hearing that anguish made her feel like she was crumbling on the inside.

Of course he didn’t use a stupid love potion. She had just been searching for any excuse at all to explain these feelings she had for him. Feelings of wanting to be with him and spend time with him and...kiss him.

She wasn’t ashamed to have these feelings. Sure, it was a shock to have them for him. But she was mostly...afraid.

Afraid of being hurt and betrayed because she had these feelings.

Why did she have to be so destructive?

When she saw Cassian enter the changing rooms, Nesta felt compelled to follow after him. She couldn’t leave things like that.

It was time for her to be honest both with him and herself. No more coming up with excuses.

With her robes flowing around her, she ran across the pitch to the changing rooms.

As she rushed toward them, many of the other Gryffindor players were walking out and gave her quizzical looks. But she had no time to care...not that she ever would have cared anyway.

When she burst into the room, out of breath, she was relieved to find Cassian was the only one in there. He stood before a locker, angrily removing his leg and arm guards.

“Cassian,” Nesta called out softly, causing Cassian to briefly glance up at her.

“Coming to get in one more insult because claiming I used a love potion wasn’t enough?” he questioned her bitterly.

“No,” she emphatically replied. “I… What’s wrong with your hand?” she suddenly asked when she noticed his knuckles were completely swelled up.

Cassian just shrugged. “Just...hit a locker,” he muttered before aggressively removing the glove off of his other hand.

Did he...punch a locker out of anger over her stupid words?

“Sit down and let me see it,” Nesta demanded as she gently pushed Cassian down on the bench in front of the locker and quickly grabbed hold of his wrist before he could protest. She sat next to him and lifted his hand to inspect his knuckles, then took out her wand and directed it at the injury.

“Glaciotious,” Nesta said and an icy coolness from her wand settled over the swollen area. “Are there bandages somewhere in here?”

Cassian shook his head. Nesta then took a quick glance around the room before glancing down at her own clothes. Letting go of Cassian’s hand, she untied the tie from around her neck and threw it on the bench beside her. “Linteumos,” Nesta stated as she directed her wand at it.

Before their eyes, her green and silver tie had transfigured into a long green and silver bandage. Picking it up, she brought it toward Cassian and gestured for him to stick out his hand once more.

He reluctantly did so, and Nesta placed her wand down on the bench and went about carefully wrapping the bandage around his knuckles.

“Nesta, what are you doing?” Cassian asked exasperatedly.

“Taking care of you,” she replied.

“Why?”

“Because I care about you,” she answered ardently as her fingertips grazed his skin, the touch sending goosebumps up her arm. “And that scares me,” she added in a whisper.

His eyebrows rose up in arches at her words. “Why does that scare you?”

She tied a knot in the bandage and gently set his arm back at his side. “Because I could get hurt.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as he stared at her intently.

“To care for someone and let them in and grow to love them...there’s the chance that one day they’ll just leave you or betray you or forget about you altogether.”

Just like my father, she nearly added.

But from the way Cassian looked at her sympathetically, she sensed that he knew what she almost said. He swung one of his legs over onto the other side of the bench so he could fully face her. Taking one of her hands within his uninjured one, he rubbed circles with his thumb into the back of it.

“And I know I’m not easy to...care about either. I have a tendency to push people away...so it’s just been easier to...isolate myself,” she added.

“Nesta, I can’t promise right now that we’ll be together forever, and neither can you, but I know that what I feel for you is different from what I’ve felt for any other girl,” Cassian explained fervently. “And I don’t want to waste any time in our final year here if we want to give this a shot. You just need to decide if you’re willing to take the risk.”

Nesta closed her eyes as he spoke, debating and thinking over what she should do.

Mere minutes ago, she nearly became distraught over seeing Cassian walk away from her. It wasn’t something she wanted to experience again. If they were together, there was the risk they would breakup and he would leave her. But if she decided right now not to go out with him again, he’d probably leave her alone completely...

The past few days since their unofficial date, she had missed him. Despite every effort to try to forget about him, she missed him too much. Perhaps, that was the real reason she felt the desire to go storming out onto the quidditch pitch today. She needed to see him.

But then she had cut him down with her insinuation of him using a love potion on her. It was how she shielded herself. Strike others down before they could hurt her.

However, this time, her strike against someone else also hurt her. She was already in too deep, so she might as well...try this out.

But she did so, she needed to apologize.

She opened her eyes and stared back at him. “I’m sorry I accused you of giving me a love potion.”

An amused smile took over Cassian’s face. “I will only accept your apology if you tell me what you meant when you said you were feeling a certain way and constantly thinking about something?”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it obvious how I feel at this point?”

“I want to hear you say it. You’ve already heard me tell you a few times how I feel about you. It’s time to return the favor.”

“Fine,” she said dramatically and squeezed his hand. “Despite you being a persistent and arrogant and demanding dolt, I like you and I like spending time with you.”

Cassian gloated and squeezed her hand in return. “And what have you been constantly thinking about?”

Nesta sighed again. “You and how much I want to kiss that stupid grin off of your face.”

Cassian’s eyes grew big and his mouth dropped open.

Good. Just the reaction she was looking for. She smugly smiled at him as she leaned closer to him.

“So does this mean you’ll take the risk and go out with me?” Cassian questioned her, his breath tickling her nose.

Nesta scrunched up her nose upon smelling a foul stench. He still hadn’t cleaned up after practice. “That depends if you plan on showering anytime soon.”

Cassian sighed as she leaned away from him. “I’ll go shower right now. Meet me outside the Great Hall in twenty minutes?”

Nesta nodded in agreement.

“Great,” he said dreamily as he squeezed her hand one more time before releasing it. “I expect a real answer to my question then.”

“Wait,” she said as she grabbed his injured hand. “Plasticus,” she stated when she pointed her wand at his bandage, charming it to turn into plastic. “For your shower,” she explained.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Nesta simply gave him a smile before getting up and heading out of the changing rooms, while he made his way to the shower stall.

On her way to the castle, an idea popped into Nesta’s mind.

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

Following his shower in the quidditch changing rooms, Cassian raced to the Great Hall, eager to hear Nesta finally say that she would go out with him.

...and possibly finally kiss her.

Having heard her say she had been thinking about kissing the grin off of his face had been such a surprise. He never thought he’d ever hear her admit that. Especially when he would have just been satisfied with her saying that she had been constantly thinking of him.

Finally, they seemed to be on the same wavelength.

When the Great Hall entrance was finally in sight, he didn’t see Nesta anywhere.

Was she avoiding him again? Did she freak out again? He had just seen her a mere twenty minutes ago. How could her feelings change so quickly?

Suddenly, a door he passed on his left opened and a hand reached out, grabbing hold of his arm and yanking him into the room…

Which turned out to be a tiny dimly-lit space filled with various broomsticks, mops and buckets.

And none other than Nesta Archeron.

Nesta closed the door behind them and gently pushed him so his back was up against the wall. She wrapped her hands around his neck, bringing his face down to hers to capture his lips in a fervent kiss. Once over the shock of this unexpected event, Cassian placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer to him, needing to be as close to her as he possibly could.

The taste of her was better than he had envisioned and he couldn’t get enough. When she would hesitantly pull away the slightest bit, he dove right back into the kiss, gently tugging at her lips with his teeth to pull her back in.

At some point, he did remember however that he’d been expecting her to answer his question. Reluctantly, he pulled his lips away from hers, and the two of them stood with their foreheads resting against each other’s. Her heavy breathing matched his own.

“I knew you always wanted to snog me in a broom closet,” he remarked cheekily.

“I needed to see what all the fuss was about,” she replied as she moved her hands up into his unbound hair and ran her fingers through it over and over again. “But if another prefect catches me, you’re dead,” she added rather seriously.

“I’m dead? You’re the one who dragged me in here!”

“But you’re the one who keeps kissing me.”

“Because you started it,” he noted before giving her a quick peck on the lips. “And you’re too intoxicating.”

Her eyes glimmered like the stars as she blushed.

“So Nesta Archeron, will you go out with me?” he asked.

She took a deep breath. “Yes,” she breathed.

Cassian beamed as he planted her with a passionate kiss.

“Are you ready to go to the Great Hall?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Not yet,” she said before leaning forward to kiss him again.

“Maybe we can eat in the kitchens later instead,” he mumbled against her lips.

“I like that plan,” she whispered before wrapping her arms tighter around his neck and kissing him ravenously.

A/N: Thanks so much for reading! I hope you liked it! I apologize for any errors...I was sick when I edited this! Cassian just seems like he would totally be like a Hogwarts-era Sirius Black to me XD anyone else agree? :) Right now, this is just a oneshot. But do I have ideas for other Nessian dates/issues while at Hogwarts? Yes. Will I ever write them? I have no idea. I kinda want take a break, kinda want to go back to writing my post-ACOFAS fic, haha. So we'll see!

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #harry potter #hogwarts #hogwarts au #nessian au #nessian at hogwarts!

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