#so be it I love my little lap dog that can leap five feet in the air and fits through gaps as big as her head

[tomboyneedshercoffee]

Lovedust || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter have always hated each other but when Y/N discovers an element that can make people fall in love, her whole relationship flips upside down. 

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: I’m still working on the last part to thin ice but I’ve had the idea of a love potion series for Peter and since we’re in quarantine, I said fuck it. I’m such a sucker for an enemy to love type thing so this is great cause technically it’s a slowburn but not at the same time! Also Y/N is ADOPTED cause duh of course she is. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Mild language, mean peter 

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||

part seven || part eight || epilogue 

You grew up with always hearing the saying that the heart wants what it wants. When your heart longed for a family, you found yourself among the Avengers who helped raised you into the woman you were meant to be. Deep down, you loved them more than you could possibly imagine and your heart felt full knowing they would always have your back. 

You weren’t sure how much room was left in your heart but you knew a person who you definitely didn’t make space for. Peter Parker. 

Your dad recruited him into the Avengers years ago but ever since the two of you met, you had always butted heads. 

There was a whole list of reasons why you hated him; the smirk he always had whenever he would see you and the way he said your name as if it was like venom in his mouth. 

There were times where Peter would leave smoke bombs in your room after you had just cleaned it or trap you in your room with his webbing when you were late for the movies. You always managed to get him back whether it was you throwing out all of his clothes into the courtyard when he needed to get ready for school or you hacking into his phone whenever he had an important call. 

Most of the time, it didn’t matter. You both knew you were smarter and wittier than he would ever be but the one thing he always had above you was that he had powers. It didn’t matter that you had grown up with superheroes or that your dad was the Tony Stark, Peter would always be an Avenger. 

Everyone in the complex knew the feud the two of you had but that didn’t stop them from stirring the pot now and then to witness it. 

You sat down on the couch as you continued to work on your paper quietly since you needed a change of scenery.  Bucky watched over your shoulder as he made breakfast in the kitchen. 

“ Homework?” 

“ Mhm. It’s about how the U.S could have avoided World War II if our president wasn’t so dumb,” You said as you kept your eyes glued to your screen,” I’ll let you read it once I finish it.”

Bucky smiled and turned his attention back to the stove,” Sounds good kiddo.” 

You had about thirty minutes before your paper was due and you felt like you were on a roll. You had enough time to knock out another page but as soon as you shifted to the next paragraph, loud music started to play from one of the rooms close by. 

You didn’t even have to look up to know that it was Peter. You turned around and looked sympathetically at Bucky for help but he shook his head when his eyes met yours. 

“ Don’t look at me, I’m making breakfast.”

You looked down at your laptop as if you were considering to ignore the music before getting up from the couch anyway and stomped over to Peter’s room. You could feel the vibration of the music underneath your feet as you knocked on the door violently,” Shut up Parker!” 

Not even a second later, the door swung open and revealed Peter who was only wearing sweatpants and a small smirk. 

“ What did you say? I can’t hear you,” Peter shouted over the music as he tried to close the door on you. 

You pushed the door open and slid through, heading straight for his phone that was attached to the room’s speaker. You grabbed it before he could reach you and you swiped your thumb over his phone screen to turn the music off,” You’re making my brain hurt and I can’t even hear myself think!”

“ Wait,” Peter gasped as he acted surprised,” you have a brain? I’m so sorry I didn’t even realize!” 

Peter tried to reach for his phone but you yanked it back and held your hand up,” You can get this back after I finish my paper. I’m serious Parker if I fail because of your dumbass music I’ll kill you.” 

You walked out of his room and back into the living room where Peter trailed behind you. At this point, Bucky, Sam, and Natasha were all in the kitchen as they silently watched the madness that unfolded right in front of them. 

You plopped back down on the couch but before you could place your laptop back into your lap, Peter grabbed it away from you and closed the screen harshly. 

“ Peter! I didn’t save it!”

“ Relax, you have google docs,” Peter said as he reached out his hand,” now give me my phone.”

You stood up as you tried to grab your laptop back but Peter casually held it over his head. 

You didn’t want to embarrass yourself even further so you didn’t even attempt to leap up and grab it out of his sneaky hands,“ Ugh, fine. Will you at least stop playing your shitty music so loudly?” 

Peter tilted his head to the side for a moment,” Do you really want this back?”

You knew Peter was playing a trick on you but you were so frustrated, you took the bait anyway. 

“ Yes, I would like my laptop back,” You sighed as Peter smiled cheekily back at you. 

Peter nodded and shrugged,” Okay, now ask me nicely. Didn’t your dad teach you manners?” 

You fumed silently as you tried to keep your temper down,” May I please have my laptop back...you little shit!” 

Peter clicked his tongue and shook his head,” That’s kinda mean Y/N but for you I’ll give it back...if you beg for it.” 

Your face grew hot and before you knew it, you lunged at Peter. Both you and Peter hit the floor as the two of you wrestled to try and grab your belongings back. Once you grabbed your laptop, you scrambled back up before glaring back at Peter. 

“ You idiot! You could’ve broken my-” As you opened your laptop, you saw your screen completely cracked. If you squinted, you could barely make out any words that were on your page. 

Your heart sank to the bottom of your stomach as you could feel how close you were to crying. You had been working on this paper for days and you knew you still had so much to work on. 

Peter watched your face as he visibly gulped,” Y/N-”

“ Forget it!” You snapped back as you gather the rest of your notes and pushed past him,” fucking asshole.” 

You pressed your laptop and your notebooks against your chest as you figured you could find an empty computer up in the labs. Peter hesitantly watched as you walked away and into one of the glass elevators.

“ I’m sorry!” He shouted as the elevator started to go up. 

You looked down at Peter and made eye contact with him before sticking up your middle finger. Peter shook his head as stuffed his hands into his pocket and mumbled underneath his breath. 

“You’re terrible with women,” Sam sighed as Peter turned his attention towards the kitchen. 

Peter pointed back at himself and towards the elevator,” Me? She’s being the difficult one!” 

Natasha shook her head as she grabbed her coffee mug and walked towards Peter,” Take my advice kid, if you like a girl, I would refrain from...whatever you just did. Ever heard of flowers or a card?” 

“ I don’t like her, how many times do I have to tell you guys!” Peter huffed as his face grew bright red. 

“ Even if you don’t like her, you need to at least apologize, it’s the right thing to do,” Natasha said as she patted his shoulder and walked off, leaving Peter to feel guilty. 

Once you got to the labs, you found a vacant computer in the hallway and started to work on your paper. At this point, you were just bullshitting it and after a few minutes of angrily typing, you decided you would just submit it since you were exhausted. 

As you wheeled your chair back away from the desk, you spotted Banner in one of the main labs by himself. His body hunched over the desk as he looked directly into a microscope.

Even from your position, you could see that whatever he was looking at was glowing bright pink. You rested your knee against the desk as you leaned back in your chair, attempting to try and get a better look. 

You had never seen anything in science ever give off such a vibrant color before and you were intrigued, to say the least. As cool as it was living in the Avengers complex with superheroes, you were more fascinated on what went down in the labs than on the battlefield. 

As you stretched back, you felt the wheel underneath your chair slip from underneath you and a second later, you fell to the ground with a hard thud. You clasped your hand over your mouth as you listened to hear footsteps coming closer.

The door to the lab chamber opened up to a whirring sound as cold air whipped past you, you had been caught.

“ Y/N? What are you doing down there?” Banner asked as he helped you up to your feet. 

Without missing a beat you looked over his shoulder and pointed to the glowing object,” What is that? Can I look at it with you?” 

Banner followed your line of sight to where his microscope was positioned and then back at you. 

“ Um, I’m not sure your dad would want you-”

“ Please? Just for a second, I promise,” You whined while Banner sighed as if he knew he was defeated. 

Out of all the Avengers, Banner was always the one to go easy on you and you knew he would fall for your puppy dog eyes. 

“ Fine, but just for a second but don’t touch anything,” You followed Banner into the lab as the cold air sterilized you and your clothes,” put these on.”

You put on your lab coat and gloves as you followed closely behind him. He motioned his hand to the microscope as you gladly accepted the offer. 

You peeked into the microscope as you examined the slide. It was hard to see anything besides the pink glow but after looking at it closer, you could make out small, powdery rocks as small as a grain of rice. 

“Okay well, this definitely isn’t a bunch of pop rocks so what is it?” You asked, turning back to Banner,” this has ‘space stuff’ written all over it.”

Banner nodded as you stepped away from the microscope to rest your eyes,“It’s a form of moondust that works as a highly addictive psychostimulant that directly affects the hypothalamus. Thor brought it back for the lab so I could try and make a type of vaccine since it has really bad side effects.” 

“ What do you mean it has bad side effects- is that why my eyes hurt?” You asked nervously as Banner calmed you down.

“ Relax, it’s relatively safe as long as it doesn’t come in contact with water. You know what oxytocin is right? It’s called the love hormone and when this powder makes contact with human skin-”

“ Oxytocin-So, like a love potion?” You questioned as Banner stopped for a moment before nodding,” You have to let me help you, please let me help you. School is so easy right now, I need something challenging so my brain cells don’t deteriorate!” 

You could tell that Banner was hesitant about allowing a seventeen-year-old girl to help him find a cure for a space element that was highly addictive but in the name of science, he budged.

                                                              ----

“ I think we should call it a day. We’ve been working on this for hours and we still haven’t found anything that stands out,” Dr. Banner said as he stepped away from the lab table and stretched his neck out,” I heard your dad is making dinner for everyone tonight and I want front row seats to that trainwreck.”

You checked the time and saw that it had been hours since you’ve eaten or even saw the light of day. As hungry and tired as you were, you knew that if it was a big dinner, Peter would be joining in. 

For the first time in hours, you remembered everything that had gone down earlier in the day and it just made you mad all over again. 

You backed up from the microscope and nodded as you felt how sore your neck was starting to feel,” I’ll probably head down later. I just want to be sure we’re not missing anything.” 

“ I wanted to thank you again for your help with all of this. I know it’s not your department but I’m glad to see you in the lab,” Banner said as some of the other scientists in the lab started to leave,” it’s really great to see young people interested in science.” 

“ Well, it helps when you have a great teacher,” You smiled as Banner grinned back. 

Once he left the lab, you turned your attention back to what you and Banner called “ Lovedust”. As you looked at the powder, you felt a wave of sadness wash over you. 

You weren’t sure if it was from the powder or how long you’ve been working on a serum but looking at the Lovedust made you feel helpless.

 You had been in relationships in the past that were never the healthiest but if you had known back then that an actual love potion existed, maybe it could’ve saved you a few heartaches.  

You were so deep in thought that you didn’t hear the sterilization door open as Peter stepped in quietly, watching you from afar. 

He crept up behind you to where he was a mere centimeters away from his chin touching your shoulder. 

“ Whatcha got there?” Peter asked loudly as you jumped up from your seat, shrieking. 

You hit the table with your knee hard as you whipped around, completely flustered, to see Peter leaning against one of the lab tables laughing. 

“ Very funny idiot!” You said as you smacked the back of his head,” you can’t sneak up on someone like that- especially in a laboratory!” 

Peter pushed your hand away as his gaze fell on the Lovedust that was now sprawled over the table. 

He pointed over to the powder as he kneeled in front of it,” Woah, what is this stuff?”

Your eyes grew wide as you grabbed Peter’s hand and pulled him away from the table. If Peter were to come into contact with it, who knows what trouble he could stir up. 

“ Promise me that you will not touch it! I need a sweepy thingy!” You shouted as you scrambled around the room to find a dustpan. 

Peter only rolled his eyes as he pulled up a chair so he could get a better look at the glowing dust. Peter whistled low as you finally found the dustpan that was underneath one of the lab tables. 

“ Were you hiding up here this whole time staring at this thing?” Peter asked as you stopped in front of the table and shooed him to the side,” are you going to tell me what this is or am I going to have to touch it to get your attention?” 

You set a deadly gaze to Peter before turning your attention to the mess he had caused. Banner said it was relatively harmless as long as it didn’t touch water and as you looked around the room, you noticed there wasn’t a sink or beaker close by. 

You sighed as you turned to Peter,” It’s moondust they found on Thor’s planet. Just don’t spit on it or lick it cause if it comes in contact with water, it gets super reactive.” 

Peter looked up curiously at you as he raised his eyebrow,” How reactive?”

You mimicked an explosion noise with your mouth as your hands spread out into jazz fingers which made Peter laugh. 

“ Okay, got it, no water,” Peter said before he backed up from the table and started looking around the lab. Peter watched as you tried your best to sweep up the remaining dust carefully as he leaned against one of the bunsen burners. 

“ Why are you here? Cause if it’s an apology, I don’t want to hear it,” You said finally as Peter straightened up his back,” I’m tired of your lame excuses.”

While his whole plan was to come up and apologize, he felt all that motivation and guilt fade away since you had said it in a snarky tone.  

“ Why would I apologize?” Peter responded as you shook your head, laughing dryly,” for the laptop? You were the one who lunged at me!”

It all made sense to you, Peter would never own up to his mistakes and now, his mistake had cost you another laptop. 

You kept your focus to the table but you clicked your tongue,” You know what Peter, I’m not saying you have to treat me like the Queen of England, but I’ll be damned if you don’t respect me. I think you need to remember who you’re talking to, I’m a Stark.” 

Peter moved away from the table and stood next to you with his arms crossed against his chest. 

“ You think you can intimidate me? Y/N, we’re not friends, I don’t owe you anything.”

You turned to face Peter as you felt pure rage growing inside your chest,” You’re right, you don’t owe me anything. But that suit you run around in and that room you sleep in every night is thanks to my dad. Before my dad showed up you were nothing. Humble yourself Spiderboy.”

Peter’s face looked visibly hurt for a second before glaring right back at you,” I need to humble myself? All you ever do is go around saying how smart you are just because your dad is Tony Stark. You’re almost eighteen and yeah you got a full ride to Columbia and you’re valedictorian but you wasted your whole high school years on never accomplishing anything! You never went to a single party, you never passed your driver’s test, and you’ve never even had a boyfriend before.” 

“ Newsflash Parker, I’ve had boyfriends before but unlike you, my relationships don’t dictate whether or not I’ve accomplished something!” You snapped back as you took a step towards Peter,” and at least my boyfriend’s dads don’t end up in jail.” 

Peter didn’t even hesitate as the words slipped right out of his mouth,” And at least my girlfriends actually loved me back.”

Immediately, nausea swirled in your empty stomach as your mind started to feel swarmed with old memories of every relationship you had. The room felt still and you thought that if you let a tear out, it would make noise once it hit the floor. 

Peter immediately regretted his words once again as he watched your stern face fall into a somber one. Before he could reach out to you, he felt the hair on his arm raise up at the same time. 

“ Wow, low blow Parker-” You turned around and when you looked at the table behind you, half of your notes and papers were lit up in flames. 

Before you could even let out a gasp, the sprinkler system came on as water sprayed every inch of the room, including the Lovedust. 

“ No no no!” You yelled as you scrambled over to the other side of the room to shut the water off,” Peter help me!” 

Peter carefully tried to run through the slippery floor without falling but once he saw you slip on the way to the button, he almost sprinted towards you. When he felt his foot slip from underneath him, he jolted his arm out to catch himself on the table. 

He could feel the Lovedust crunch underneath his palm as his blood ran cold. You had never told him what the powder was except that it would explode so Peter desperately tried rubbing the powder onto his pants. 

You picked yourself up from the ground and used all of your weight to press the button and stopped the sprinkler system. Within seconds, the sprinkler system halted as you looked back at Peter, who was completely drenched in water. 

“ Nice going- hey, are you okay?” You asked as you moved your wet hair out of your face before stopping in the middle of your step. 

Peter’s left hand and his whole left side of his jeans were covered in glowing pink dust that was turning redder by the second. 

“ I need to sit down,” Peter said softly before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his feet crumbled underneath him. 

Once Peter hit the ground, you screamed for help as you slid across the wet floor, kneeling close to Peter. 

You did your best to avoid touching his whole left side as you lifted the upper half of his body and propped his head up against the leg of the table. You cupped your hands around his face as you moved a few strands of wet hair so you could see better. 

“ Peter? Damn it, Peter!” You shook him harshly as you felt your heart sink to your stomach,” Wake up! Wake up!” 

Your hands trembled as you checked his head to make sure he didn’t bust it open. Every ounce of angry you held towards him quickly faded once you thought that Peter was seriously injured. 

After shaking him for a moment, Peter’s eyes slowly opened. The first thing he could feel was warmth spreading across his whole body like nothing he had ever felt before. His heart permanently felt like it was skipping a beat every few seconds and his chest felt extremely tight. 

His breathing was uneven as if he had just ran a marathon but once his vision started coming back, every ounce of breath was taken from his lungs. As you stared back at Peter with a worried expression, his heart sped up even faster as he found himself getting lost into the deep color of your eyes. 

“ Peter? Can you hear me?” You asked as you snapped your fingers close to his ear but Peter barely flinched. 

He nodded, hanging onto every word as if it was words on a page and he felt immediate comfort in hearing your sweet voice. He managed to pull his gaze away from your eyes but next, he focused on your lips and made details of the way you said his name. 

“ Oh thank god, don’t worry, help is coming. Just stay awake for me okay?” You sighed as you nervously pushed another strand of wet hair behind your ear, which made Peter sigh deeply. 

He wanted nothing more than to reach out to you and tuck a strand of hair away from your face but he was too distracted by how you looked in front of him. Even though you were soaking wet from head to toe, Peter couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. 

“ I’m so glad you’re okay,” You admitted as you smiled before pulling your hands away from his face. 

Everything besides his heartbeat seemed to stop once you smiled and that’s when Peter deep down knew something was wrong but he didn’t care. The way your lips lifted upward into a smile filled with complete relief made his heart beat even faster. 

Peter swallowed hard before looking up at you as his face flushed a deep shade of red,” I don’t know what’s happening to me...but I’ve never loved you more than right now. I can’t help it, I love you, I’ve always loved you Y/N.” 

Your smile dropped as you looked down at Peter’s whole left side. The Lovedust was completely gone and you knew in that moment that his skin must’ve absorbed the remainder of it.

In a matter of seconds, a boy who wanted nothing to do with you and claimed no boy had ever loved you was now professing his undying love for you. 

“ You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

[starglow-xx]

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 2)

platonic! fukuzawa yukichi x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !! 

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff

previous: part 1: meeting the greatest detective

author’s note: ages are a year younger than canon so ranpo is 25, yosano 24, kunikida & dazai 21, fukuzawa 44, you’re 19, and atsushi and the other younger members are not employed yet

and i guess slight spoilers for the untold origins of the armed detective agency but not really. it’s just a reference to it tbh

their beloved president

going to Sakura’s the next morning wasn’t what Fukuzawa had planned during his week

the reason he was dropping by was to give you money for the sweets you had given ranpo

when he had arrived back at the agency the evening before, he had made a big fuss about you and Sakura’s

he had sparked a lot of people’s interest seeing as ranpo was well invested in whoever you were and what your business was

he wouldn’t stop talking about the “cute and annoying bakery girl” who practically saved the agency simply bc she sheltered him during the rain and fed him and almost got hit by a car for him

i mean, how would the agency survive without ranpo? it was founded to make use of his intelligence and ability after all

the other agency employees exchanged looks and that’s when ranpo tiredly sighed and showed them his phone

on the screen was a contact, yours to be exact, labeled “cute bakery girl” with the note underneath reading “best follower, sweets supply & annoying little kid”

around that time, the president had stepped out of his office to see his employees huddling around ranpo and his phone

he walked over to them and asked what was going on, and seeing the president, ranpo explained what had happened with more details

“so you’re saying that a young girl, 19 years old, nearly got herself run over to shelter you from the rain, gave you food, closed her business early so you could keep talking, and when the rain stopped, she gave you a map and even more food, and even though she may have been inconvenienced, she did not ask for anything back? nor did you offer to give her anything back? even though she relies from the money she earns to survive?

“...maybe.”

after a, private chat with ranpo, fukuzawa ended up saying that he’d go take a visit to Sakura’s first thing in the morning to pay off the sweets that she’d given him by sliding an envelope of money under the door with a note

he initially told ranpo to go back right away (and to bring someone with him this time) but that ended up not pulling through bc ranpo had told him you went to retire for the evening

so yeah

there he was walking towards your bakery when he saw a small black cat with green eyes near the entrance playing with one of the potted plants outside

even though it was small, fukuzawa could tell that it wasn’t kitten due to his love of cats but the cat was still small compared to other adult cats

when he was just a couple feet away from the entrance to your bakery, the black cat took notice of him and walked his way before rubbing itself against his leg

fukuzawa let out a small smile as he bent down to pet the small creature, and the cat gladly ate up all the attention

suddenly the entrance to Sakura’s bursts open, and there you are looking back and forth frantically 

but you soon spot him and the cat and you visibly calm down

the black cat rushed to you and rubbed itself against your leg

it turns out the cat was yours, and you couldn’t find him so you panicked and rushed out the door

from there, you introduced yourself with fukuzawa doing the same

you still had about a little more than forty five minutes til Sakura’s was scheduled to open but you offered fukuzawa to come in anyways

he declined at first, but he gave in when, just how you did with ranpo the day before, you dragged him into your bakery

“you know, fukuzawa-san, this is giving me some major deja vu!”

“it’s because of ranpo i presume.”

“oh! you know ranpo-san?”

when the two of you entered, you rushed to a table and pulled out a seat for him before you disappeared off into the kitchen

just a few minutes later, you appeared with a tray with two steaming mugs, two hot plates of food, and small basket of bread

you set one mug in front of fukuzawa as well as a plate of food while you set the other mug and plate in front of the seat across from him and the basket of bread near the center by the small vase of flowers that you had for a center piece

he gave you a confused look as you sat in front of him and as your cat leaped into your lap

“ah! it’s pretty early in the morning, and you still have to go to work later, so i thought you should at least have a little something before you go. and i didn’t have breakfast yet so i thought it would be nice to have some tea with some company. and i made extras anyways!”

fukuzawa blinked before letting out a small smile and he quietly thanks you

you beam at him and as the both of you begin to eat, you ask him why he’s here this early and how he knows ranpo

with that, the silver haired man addresses your questions and explains the reason why he’s here and how he knows the brown clad male 

after explaining, fukuzawa pulls out the envelope with some money and slides it over to you

you try to reject it, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re screaming bc you know you need the money for bills and whatnot

fukuzawa wasn’t very helpful either

“so you’re saying you don’t need the money?”

“...no”

you end up accepting the money much to your inner conscience’s chagrin and to fukuzawa’s inner delight

moving on from that, for the rest of the time he was there—the last 40ish minutes or so—you rambled and talked to fukuzawa like how you did with ranpo the day prior, only this time, with a cat switching his resting point for either yours or fukuzawa’s lap

honestly, you’ve gone through so much deja vu and at this point, you’re not sure if you’re still in reality or not

sometime in your conversation, fukuzawa learned that your cat, ironically, was named lucky

apparently you found him in an alley while you were grocery shopping two weeks ago and since you took him in, you noticed that Sakura’s received a lot of new customers and that a lot of them actually ended up becoming regulars

speaking of the cat, you kept having to stop lucky from eating the food on the table

if fukuzawa was amused from your antics along with lucky’s, he was pretty good at hiding it

you: “lucky you naughty cat! i already told youuu” >:(

lucky: >:3

fukuzawa internally: :) & :D

the two of you had also became well engaged in talking about different kinds of tea, with fukuzawa even complimenting you with the tea you had made for him

it became his favorite <33

you were so happy <3

oop there’s that kid-like behavior again🤭

don’t tell ranpo🤫

scratch that he probably already knows somehow </3

speaking of which, the two of you also talked about the childish detective

it was kind of hard to tell whether or not you were admiring him <3 or insulting and complaining </3 about him lol

“so you’re the president ranpo-san was talking about huh. we talked a lot about his job yesterday! it seems quite exciting! but he talks quite a lot honestly.”

“ranpo talked a lot about you as well”

“ah really?! he can be a bit of an ass, but he really is amazing isn’t he?”

“mhmm”

through fukuzawa, you also learned how the two had first met, and this time, it was hard to tell whether you were amazed or angry at him

“awh that’s so cool!! but for someone so smart, he’s an idiot! what if he got hurt?! it was a good thing you got there huh fukuzawa-san?”

if you thought ranpo was like an older brother figure, you definitely saw fukuzawa as some sort of father figure

he noticed that you started to act like ranpo a little bit

you had developed some sort of attachment to him and when he praised you abt your tea, you had the same glow ranpo has when he gives him praise

not that fukuzawa minds

you’re just another child he’s adopting !! <33

not that either of you knew that hehe >:D

time went by pretty fast and before you knew it, there was only 10 minutes until you were scheduled to open

it was a good thing you had just finished all your prep before fukuzawa arrived

after making a promise with fukuzawa for him to come back again for some more tea, he stood up and made his way to the door as you carefully lifted lucky from your lap so you could quickly wash the dishes and to wipe the table and chairs you used

you offered some baked goods and some tea for to go but fukuzawa declined saying that you needed your supplies for your customers

as soon as you placed lucky on the wooden surface, he bolted to fukuzawa and kept on circling his legs and rubbing against him to stop him from leaving

i guess it turns out you weren’t the only one to get attached to fukuzawa

he couldn’t get even one step closer to the door without lucky reacting and running rapid circles around his legs to get him to stop moving

you didn’t know what to do and you were starting to freak out bc it was almost time to open up, but fukuzawa saved the day and offered to take lucky back with him and promised to take him back the next day

at first, like how you did with the money, you declined but ended up giving in when you saw quite a few of your morning regulars walking down the sidewalk towards Sakura’s for its opening

fukuzawa simply picked up the cat and walked out the door giving you one last wave of good bye

when they left, there was only about 5 minutes left and you rushed to finish the last minute clean up

when fukuzawa arrived at the agency (after a quick stop at home) with a cat in his grasp, let’s just say that quite a few more questions were raised

when asked about the cat, he simply answered that he was cat-sitting for a friend and ranpo knowingly smiled

but he then realized that fukuzawa arrived without any of your signature baked goods and he started complain as the rest of the agency members stared in confusion

with ranpo’s visit, they had quite a few questions, but with fukuzawa’s visit to Sakura’s, their confusion only grew a whole lot more and will continue to keep growing

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[novelconcepts]

FOUND IT!!! Consider this an official ask for 3 and 14 combined! #wheee

smiling into a kiss and play wrestling

Having a best friend again is strange. She’d gone so long imagining the phrase as a sort of neon sign staked firmly in the past: Best Friend, already spoken for. Eddie had always been it; no other volunteers need apply. 

But Eddie’s gone now, out of her life, living out wherever his might go in another country altogether, and Dani finds the position has--slowly, without really planning for it--been filled once more. Not that she planned for it. Not that could ever could have. 

She didn’t come to Bly looking for Jamie, and if you’d told her the gardener who refused to so much as meet her eyes, much less introduce herself, would become the most important person in her life--well. Life is full of surprises.

There is so little of Eddie in Jamie, she sometimes wonders how both could have occupied the same shape in her heart. Sometimes wonders how Eddie--who prized cleanliness, routine work hours, dinners at his mother’s once a week--would look at Jamie, if he could see her. Jamie, all tousled hair, happiest with a cigarette between her teeth and both hands buried in soil. Jamie, who has never kept a nine-to-five, never craved Sunday afternoons with her parents, never looks at Dani like she expects firm posture, bright smile, neat clothes. 

They couldn’t possibly be more different--and yet, somehow, Jamie is her best friend. Unfair to think it, maybe, but she might be the best friend Dani’s ever had. Her sense of humor is dark, her vocabulary wallpapered with curse words and shorn letters; she smells of nicotine and sunscreen, dresses in wrinkled flannels and torn jeans. Where Eddie looped an arm around her shoulders, Jamie nudges her with bony elbows; where Eddie pressed his lips to her temple, Jamie leans carefully away. Different, in every measure. 

And it isn’t that she likes Jamie more. That wouldn’t be fair--not after so many years in Eddie’s company. It’s just that when Jamie looks at her, eyes bright, dirt smudged on one cheek, sometimes, she feels...

“You’re thinking,” Jamie observes. She doesn’t say it the way Eddie would--the way he always pointed out when she was clenching her fist under the table, or picking at her nails, his voice edged with concern bordering on condescension. Her voice is light, her lips curved in a small smile. 

Eddie never quite smiled at her like that. Or, if he did, it didn't pluck the same chord in her stomach. Not that that matters. Not that that affects the sincerity of friendship. 

Not that it’s making her feel weirdly flushed this afternoon. 

“Am I not allowed to think?” she asks. The sun, she thinks, is responsible for the goofy smile on her face. The heat of the day, which stretches on and on the way only early July knows how.

“Not arguing,” Jamie says. “One of us ought to.”

She’s on her knees, pulling weeds, her face shining with sweat. There’s something about days like this--afternoons where the kids are occupied helping Owen bake cookies, leaving Dani to nurse a glass of water and pleasantly-meandering conversation--that feels almost too good to be allowed. Eddie would have wanted to do something with a day like this: hike, or clear up the yard, or go visit family. 

Jamie, on the other hand, pushes to her feet and surveys the bed she’s spent all day working. “Think that’s good enough for a break. Here, budge over.”

Dani obediently scoots to the edge of her seat, amused when Jamie flops down half in her lap. A year of working at the manor, and Jamie’s gone from a woman who couldn’t make eye contact to save her life to this: gangly limbs tossed haphazardly over Dani’s, sweat-slick skin sticking where it lands against Dani’s shoulder. It’s too hot for cozying up like this, but she can’t seem to convince herself to push Jamie away. 

“There,” Jamie sighs, tilting her head back against the plastic of the lawn chair. “Christ, feels good just to breathe.”

“You breathe,” Dani says, “and I’ll think. Together, we make an almost-functional human being.”

“Almost,” Jamie says wryly. Her hand loops around Dani’s, teasing the sweating glass out of her grip long enough to take a sip. Dani nudges her. 

“Could get you one of your own, if you ever learned to ask politely.”

“Don’t like me polite,” Jamie says with a shrug. “My brand is prickly-yet-charming, and we both know I’m your favorite for it.”

“Technically,” Dani corrects, “Flora is my favorite. Mainly because she doesn’t make me remind her to say please.”

“Please,” Jamie says without missing a beat, “keep pretending you aren’t captivated by my winning personality.”

Dani laughs. “Oh, is that what I am?”

“Mm.” Jamie takes another sip, reaches over her to set the glass down on the table, closes her eyes. “S’what you were all pensive about just now, I’m sure. How entranced you are with my witty banter.”

“Entranced,” Dani repeats.

“Beguiled. Mesmerized. Drunk with adoration.” Jamie’s face is pink, a bead of sweat neatly lining her upper lip. Dani only realizes she’s staring a fortunate beat before Jamie rolls her head to the left, peering at her with lazy amusement. “Go on. Tell me how much you love me.”

“Love how ridiculous you can be, maybe.” And how sweet, and how unquestioningly soft, though she doesn’t see a need to put that into words--or a way to do it without sounding entirely out of her head. The heat, she thinks, is absolutely getting to her. 

It’s the heat, making her want suddenly to slide an arm between the plastic back of the chair and the cotton of Jamie’s tank top, pulling her even closer. The heat, making her want to displace the normal back-and-forth ease of friendship with something else entirely. 

She’s had a best friend before. She’s never quite wanted to do with Eddie what she is, more and more, thinking about with Jamie curled up beside her. 

Distract, she thinks, because Jamie is still watching her with that half-lidded expression she gets when the sun is particularly bright, the day’s work has been well-tended, and Dani’s shoulder is a cushion beneath her head. More and more, it’s been feeling like a dangerous sort of moment, Jamie’s face lingering near the crook of her neck. Jamie’s breath coasting down the neckline of her dress. Jamie’s smile sweeter than should be allowed, given the grumpy way she slouches around the grounds. 

“Thinking,” Jamie says, her voice almost soft. Dani shakes her head. 

“It’s not illegal.”

“Is,” Jamie says, “if you’re gonna just stare at me all googly-eyed while you do it. C’mon, what gives? Is today some holiday I’ve forgotten?” She sits up a little straighter, her face comic in its sudden concern. “Shit, Poppins, it’s not your birthday.”

She almost wants to say it is, just to watch Jamie turn fascinating new shades of maroon. “No--just--it’s hot.”

Jamie sags back with palpable relief. Her arm is freckled, Dani notices, beyond the norm; the summer is drawing all sorts of secrets from her skin, and it’s suddenly painfully tempting, the urge to trace her nail along these newfound constellations. 

Distract, she thinks again, more urgently this time. Without thinking it through, without considering the consequences, she dips two fingers into the glass of water and flicks the still-cool moisture directly into Jamie’s face. 

Jamie, to her credit, hardly jumps. She’s just blinking at Dani like their conversation has taken an unanticipated left turn into another language, water dripping from the end of her nose. 

“Okay,” she says. “If that’s how we’re playing it.”

Her arm reaches across without hesitation, replicating Dani’s playbook: two fingers dipped, flicked, landing back in her lap as Dani sputters. 

“You got me in the eye.”

“Cooled you off, though?” Jamie asks, almost politely. Dani laughs, and suddenly, it’s war. There’s barely enough room on the chair for the both of them to sit like adults, much less to squirm around, hips knocking, legs tangled up as the remainder of the glass finds its way--droplet by droplet--into Jamie’s face, down Dani’s neck, sometimes missing entirely and disappearing into the sizzling summer air. 

Dani is ultimately the victor, an upset decided when she grasps the glass--now containing maybe two inches of water--and upends it directly over Jamie’s head. She’s laughing almost too hard to breathe, particularly when Jamie gives a firm shake of her hair, looking like a rumpled dog after a bath.

“That,” Jamie says in a low, dangerous tone, “cannot stand.”

She’s up before Dani can stop her, sprinting toward the garden hose uncoiled in the grass. Dani twists in her seat, knees drawn up to her chest, arms extended.

“Don’t you dare!”

“All’s fair,” Jamie says, almost apologetically, depressing the trigger. 

They are, Dani notes somewhere in the back of her mind, full-grown adult women. They are thirty years old, gainfully employed, responsible for the upkeep of an entire house and the well-being of two small children. 

They are also now chasing one another across the lawn, Dani sopping wet, Jamie laughing so hard she nearly trips over her own feet taking a corner too fast. The hose is growing more and more tangled by the minute as she dashes in a zig-zag pattern, periodically firing a jet of water over her shoulder, and Dani has no prayer of catching up--not with her shoes squelching, slipping on wet grass, her lungs clenched around a soundless jag of laughter. 

Adults, she thinks, as Jamie makes the insurmountable error of trying to bolt past her like a quarterback dodging a tackle; she makes a successful leap over the tangled hose, but forgets at the last second to factor in the edge of the lawn chair. Dani has her around the middle before she can dart out of reach, the both of them tumbling over in a cackling heap of grass clippings, puddled hose water, freckled limbs. 

They’re rolling, shouting wordlessly around giggles, Dani struggling to pry the hose out of Jamie’s hands. It’s harder than it looks; Jamie is small, but strong in an annoyingly wiry sort of way. Even when Dani manages to get her onto her back, the water is inescapable, dousing in short jets across her chest, down her arms, pooling awkwardly between them. 

“You are,” she laughs, “a child.”

“Could a child do this?” Jamie replies, jerking upward at the hips with unexpected force. Dani rocks up with her, one hand grasping the sodden front of Jamie’s shirt for balance, and drops back down without budging from her seat. Jamie releases an oof as her back makes rough contact with the ground again, giggling too hard to successfully shove Dani over.

“Yes, actually, I think a child would be exactly that effective,” Dani informs her. Her body has never felt quite this alive, her muscles aching with the effort of an unplanned run. Jamie, chest heaving for breath, is practically glowing. 

“Just want to remind you,” Jamie says, “you did start this.”

“Does that mean I win?” If she hasn’t, she can’t imagine it would feel any better than this: straddling Jamie’s hips in the soft grass, cool water seeping down her back, her dress sticking pleasantly to warm skin. Jamie allows the hose to drop from her grip at last, her head tipped back, eyes closed.

“Call it a draw.”

“What if I wanted to win?” She slides a hand up without thinking, pinning Jamie by the wrist before she can decide to take up her watery weapon again. Jamie draws a deep breath, face flushed, grinning. 

“Guess you’d have to work harder for it.”

Children, Dani thinks--but suddenly, it doesn’t feel childish anymore. Suddenly, she’s overly aware of her dress rucked high around her thighs, of how short Jamie’s shorts really are, how her body is considerably less obscured than usual with her shirt plastered to her frame. Suddenly, she’s aware of Jamie’s hand flexing against the grass, pinned beside her head with a loose enough grip to break--though Jamie isn’t breaking it. Isn’t even trying.

Jamie is, instead, gazing up at her with hair mussed, eyes bright. Jamie, whose free hand is sliding up to rest along the curve of Dani’s hip. 

She’s Dani’s best friend, like he was, but this doesn’t feel like it belongs in the same category as late-night stories swapped by the fire, or letting each other steal the vegetables the other doesn’t care for off their plate. This feels like a category all its own: the way Jamie licks her lips as Dani’s head lowers, the way Dani’s fingers graze the freckles painting her wrist on the way up to notching her palm against Jamie’s. 

Her hair is wet, and Jamie’s face is sweaty, and there’s so little romance to the whole picture, it takes her by surprise. She’s always thought there should be talking before a thing like this, at least--a decision made on equal footing. 

“I don’t have to,” she says, even as Jamie is saying, “Do you want to?”

Children would laugh again, go back to wrestling, go back to how it all felt just a few minutes before. They are not, Dani notes as she lowers her head--as Jamie shifts up at the shoulders to meet her--children. 

She’s hyper-aware of all of it now: the sun beating against her shoulders, the hand Jamie is using to grip the back of her dress, the exact angle of Jamie’s mouth parting beneath her own. Her tongue is gentle, brushing Jamie’s, and the sound Jamie makes into her is anything but. 

She’s smiling, she realizes, so hard, it hurts--that deep, wonderful hurt of laughing too hard for too long, of slipping in the grass and landing in a heap with someone who couldn’t help catching her on the way down. She’s grinning into Jamie even as she’s kissing her, even as she’s letting her body stretch out to press Jamie more firmly against the damp ground. 

And Jamie, fingers curled between her own, making soft sounds of appreciation into the kiss, is grinning right back. 

“This was your plan all along,” she accuses, brushing the hair from Dani’s eyes when they break for a breath. “Awful lot of work, for a kiss.”

“All’s fair?” Dani suggests--and she genuinely, honestly cannot decide which she likes more: the way Jamie kisses, or the way Jamie kisses and laughs at the same time. All of it, she feels, goes a country mile beyond best friends. All of it goes a country mile beyond anything she could ever have dreamed up, walking away from him the way she did. 

It couldn’t possibly be more different.

[jombocostello]

Lost in Translation (Polnareff x Reader)

Anonymous asked: Hey! Would you mind writing a little Polnareff fic where the reader tried to learn French pick up lines to finally drop some hints, but messes up/forgets a word and gets embarrassed? 🥺

Now this is just too sweet. I changed the request up a little bit, I hope you don’t mind!! (Also if you spot any mistakes with the French, please let me know!! I’m not sure how much my high school education of French prepared me for writing Polnareff fanfiction lmao)

-----

"(Y/N), what the hell are you doing?"

You jump, tearing your eyes from the book you're scouring. You look at Joseph, who's sitting a few feet away from you on his hotel bed. He frowns. "It's three in the morning. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I... Well..." You laugh nervously, attempting to discreetly slide the book under your pillow as you search for the right words. "Yeah. I probably should be."

Joseph stands up and turns on the lamp that sits between you two, and you wince when the light hits your eyes. "But seriously, what have you been doing?" he asks again as he sits back down. "I've been trying to get some sleep and all I can hear is you muttering nonstop over there."

You can feel yourself start to blush, and you fix your eyes on the fascinating corner of the door behind Joseph. "Ah... I was just reading out loud. It helps me take it in better, y'know?" It's not a very good lie, and though you're not looking at Joseph, you know he's not buying it. "Half of enjoying a good book is visualization, isn't it?" You're audibly anxious.

"Fine. But what exactly are you reading?" You start to sweat; he's ruthless in his interrogation.

"Uh, it's... I mean you're probably not interested in it." Joseph's patience suddenly runs thin, and he leaps up and snatches the book out of your hand. "What the hell?" you shout, forgetting about the thin hotel walls and attempting rather aggressively to grab the book back.

Joseph, thanks to his powerful Joestar genes, is easily able to hold you off. "Hmm, what is... English-to-French dictionary...?" He looks up at you, confused, and you freeze. He rolls his eyes. "(Y/N), I'm failing to see what's so embarrassing about this. You want to learn a new language? More power to you - " Mid-sentence, he seems to come to a revelation, and you wince. You had almost made it out alive.

"...You're learning this for Polnareff, aren't you?"

"Isn't that the million dollar question?" you mumble, gluing your eyes to the floor. "Yes."

You can hear him horribly containing his laughter. "You've - you've got dedication, I'll give you that!" Little giggles are starting to escape him, and as he suddenly begins to howl with laughter, you try again to grab the paperback out of his hands.

Without breaking a sweat, he shoves you back onto your bed and starts leafing through the book. "Oh my God," Joseph wheezes, wiping a tear away with one hand and holding the book close to his face with the other. "I mean I knew you had feelings for the guy, but I had no idea you loved him like this!" The word 'love' hits you viscerally and you cover your face with your hands, trying to push down your unbearable embarrassment. "Oh God, that's so cute."

"Shut up!" you hiss, finally managing to wrestle the book back from Joseph. "I don't have to explain myself to you," you spit with as much rudeness as you can muster.

"You don't have to explain a thing, my friend," Joseph replies without missing a beat. "I can read you like a book right now."

"Oh my God," you groan, turning away and looking down at the bed. Your face is on fire, and you gingerly set the book down next to your pillow and you fold your arms on your lap. "Just... Fine. You got me, okay?"

"I guess I did get you! I really didn't mean to." Joseph's laughter seems to have finally ended, and he watches as you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "Sorry for laughing, (Y/N). I'm not trying to make fun of you, I promise - it's just so ridiculous that you're going to all these lengths to win Polnareff over when I'm sure it shouldn't be that difficult."

"Shouldn't be that... What do you mean?" You momentarily put aside your anger when you hear Joseph's words.

"Isn't it obvious? You two are perfect for each other. I'm positive that Polnareff shares your feelings."

"That's funny," you respond, huffing out a little laugh. "He's always flirting with girls, isn't he? I know you've seen him do it."

Joseph rolls his eyes. "Of course I have. That's just the way he is. He can be a bit...familiar with the young women he meets, but I'm fully convinced that you're the person he has his eyes on." Before you can interject with another rebuttal, Joseph speaks again. "Don't argue with me on this. I've been alive far longer than you and I've seen lots of people fall in love in this lovely world!"

You don't want to admit it, but Joseph's actually giving you some confidence here. "You, well... You might be right." Joseph grins. "I'm still gonna try to figure out some of this stupid language, though. I think he'll be happy to hear it - I mean, he's been away from home for a long time." You swing your legs up onto the bed and cross them, grabbing the book and flipping it open as you do.

Joseph marvels at the sheer concentration in your eyes as you force your way through the paperback dictionary. He can't believe how in love you are; it's honestly making him a little teary-eyed. "Well, goodnight," he says as he climbs back under the covers. "Want me to leave the light on?"

"If that's okay, yeah." Joseph nods and lays his head down on his pillow. As he shuts his eyes and drifts off to sleep, he listens to you faintly mutter to yourself, "Je t'aime. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

The next day comes quickly, and unfortunately you haven't really slept enough to prepare for it. You'd stayed up all night after your little encounter with Joseph, so you're left with about an hour and a half of sleep to get through the day. You and Joseph quickly get ready, and you go to meet the rest of the group in the lobby.

You yawn loudly as you step out of the elevator, and Joseph takes a second to laugh at you before following. You elbow him in the arm as you walk up to Jotaro, Avdol, Iggy, and Polnareff. Kakyoin's still resting up in the hospital; you all miss him dearly.

"Good morning!" Avdol calls, watching as you shuffle into the little group. "Did you two sleep well?"

You simply shake your head, and Joseph laughs a little at your severe expression. "(Y/N) stayed up all night reading," he explains, but after you shoot a look his way he shuts his mouth.

"Oh, really?" Polnareff asks brightly, raising his eyebrows. You look up at him and feel your heart start pounding; if he asks what you were reading you think you might drop dead on the spot. "Didn't take you for the reading type."

You nearly laugh at that, looking incredulously up at Polnareff. "What the hell does that mean - are you calling me dumb?"

"No!" he says hastily, eyes wide. "I mean - maybe." You both start laughing now, and Joseph leaves to return the hotel keys and check out. "In all seriousness," Polnareff starts with a little smile on his face, "I just didn't think you could sit still long enough to enjoy a novel. You seem like a more active person, I guess."

You honestly can't - your little French study sessions have been nothing short of torture. Still, you just shrug. "Everyone enjoys a good story, don't they?"

"Yeah." Polnareff turns to Jotaro and Avdol, who have been chatting to each other. "So, what's on the agenda today?" he asks, leaning against the wall behind him.

"Well..." Avdol thinks to himself for a moment. "We're a few hours away from Cairo. I think we should stay here for a while longer and then start heading there at around midday - so we can arrive under the cover of night."

"You're a good strategist, Avdol," you comment. "I would've just had us all drive into the city and parade around to find a hotel."

Avdol huffs out a laugh. "As much as I'd like to do that, our lives are in danger. We'll have to be really careful once we get to Cairo. I'm sure Dio has eyes everywhere."

"Yeah." You turn to Jotaro, who's been silent so far. Iggy's on the ground next to him, looking as pissed off as a dog possibly can. "How did you sleep last night?"

He just shrugs. "Same old. It was nice having the room to myself, save for this little asshole." He jabs his thumb in Iggy's direction, and you snort. "But yeah, it was fine. I just wanna get this over with. I've been..." He glances down at his shoes. "I've been thinking about my mom."

You'd almost forgotten about the original reason Joseph and his grandson set out on this mission. You had heard from the Foundation a few days ago that Holly Kujo's condition was only worsening. "You're gonna see her soon, huh? When we get to Cairo we'll practically be in Dio's backyard."

Jotaro nods. "Yep. Can't wait to beat the shit out of him."

You grin and nod vigorously. "I'm with you there."

Joseph returns to your little group, and the five of you all huddle together. "So," he starts, taking a deep breath. "Are you thinking we should wait, Avdol?"

"Yes. I was just saying that we should give it a few hours before we get on the road."

Joseph seems satisfied with that answer. "Perfect. So until then... I guess we can do a bit of sightseeing! We should pair up and try to stay at least a little close by. I'll stick with Avdol, and Jotaro - would you mind going with Iggy? If anything happens, both of your stands would be more than capable of taking care of things." Jotaro rolls his eyes and hums in agreement. "Okay. That leaves you two."

The sheer glee in Joseph's shit-eating grin as he looks at you and Polnareff honestly astounds you. Polnareff doesn't seem to notice, and he looks down at you. "Well this'll be fun! I haven't gotten to spend much time with you in the past couple days, (Y/N)." There's a pure affection in Polnareff's voice as he speaks to you, and you feel yourself fall even deeper in love. "We'll see you guys here in three hours, alright?" Joseph nods, waving goodbye with a sickly sweet smile, and Polnareff takes your hand and drags you through the revolving door.

The sun feels great on your skin. You follow Polnareff out, looking at your hand clasped in his as he leads you down the street a ways. He makes you feel so, so happy, and you're overcome by the desire to tell him that. "Where are you going?" you call, laughing a little when you realize you've been following him without having a clue where he's taking you.

He halts suddenly, and you run right into his back. "Oh, shit! Sorry." He spins around and rights you, peering down at your face. "That didn't hurt, did it?"

"N-no." You wince and feel your nose, which had rammed right into one of his shoulder blades. "I'm all good." After a thumbs-up for confirmation, Polnareff is satisfied. "So we're here?"

"Yep!" Polnareff gestures to the shop you're standing in front of. It's a café by the looks of it, and it seems pretty nice. "We passed it while we were driving in yesterday."

"Oh, cool!" Polnareff heads inside and you follow him. At the counter, Polnareff orders a couple pastries and two espressos for both of you. Once he gets his order, he hands you your espresso and walks out the door. He's really intent on getting the most out of these few hours of respite, it seems.

"Now that we have some food," he says, gesturing to the little bag of desserts, "we can have a picnic!" He starts walking briskly down the street, and you nearly have to jog to keep up with him.

"Did you spot this on the way in too?" you ask. He nods. "Damn, I missed so much. I was sleeping." He laughs, and you join in. After a few more minutes, you reach your destination.

It's a little park that overlooks a small, tranquil pond. "Oh, this is neat!" you say. "It's really pretty."

"Yeah." You look up at Polnareff as he gazes out at the scenery. You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time; he's usually being pestered by Iggy or attacked by some enemy stand user. You're really grateful that you get to share a calm, sweet moment with him before you have to head out to battle in Cairo.

You decide to take a seat on the grass a few feet away from the pond. Polnareff sits down beside you and carefully sets his espresso down on the grass, making sure it doesn't spill, and you do the same. You cross your legs as Polnareff reaches into the bag and pulls out a pastry.

"For you," he says, bowing his head as he hands you a croissant.

You laugh as you take it from him. "I'm honored," you reply, dipping your head in mock gratitude to Polnareff. He smirks a little and takes out a croissant for himself, leaning back and taking a big bite. You try yours, and it tastes amazing. "You're got a good eye," you tell Polnareff, your voice a little muffled as you eat. "This is really good."

"Well it's only natural that I would have an eye for cuisine," he replies with a smug grin. You reach over and slug him in the arm, and he lets out a startled laugh when you hit him. "Hey! It's true." You sigh and turn towards the pond, watching the little ripples in the water as the breeze gently brushes over it. Polnareff's still laughing a little beside you, and the whole scene suddenly feels completely and utterly romantic. You realize with a start that this is the perfect moment to try out your newly acquired language skills!

You pick up your espresso and take a sip; it's just as good as the food had been. Tentatively, you look over at Polnareff and find him staring out at the pond. "C'est un bon café," you say as nonchalantly as you can.

Polnareff nods and smiles faintly. "Oui, je suis d'accord," he replies, but the second the words leave his mouth he whips his head around, staring at you with wide eyes. "What did - did you just - was that French?" he sputters, starting to grin like an idiot.

You return the smile, nodding. "Oui. I'm glad you could understand me."

"Glad I could - God, (Y/N), you're so - " Polnareff suddenly reaches out and wraps you in a huge hug, knocking the wind from you as he practically pulls you into his lap.

"H-hey!" you yelp, laughing loudly as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He sighs, placing his hand at the base of your neck, and you feel a shiver run through you. After a moment, he pulls away and beams at you.

"I didn't know you knew French!" he says brightly; he looks ecstatic. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know it until a few days ago," you tell him with a little smile. "I've been picking it up little by little. I still barely know anything."

"You've been...learning it?" he asks softly, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah! I found a little dictionary at a shop about a week ago, and that's actually what I stayed up all last night reading. Can't say that I'm grasping it very well, but I'm giving it a shot just for you!" The smile drops from your face a bit when you notice that Polnareff's expression has grown somber.

"(Y/N)..." Your eyes widen when you notice tears welling up in Polnareff's eyes. "You've been such a good friend to me. You're always there to make me smile, and well, you've saved my life a few times too. But this, I - you don't know what it means to me."

You reach out and take his hands in yours, a little clumsily. "You're the one who makes me smile. You're my best friend." You're suddenly made acutely aware of the butterflies in your stomach, and you suck in a deep breath. It feels like it's now or never. "Polnareff, there's something I want to tell you." He blinks the tears from his eyes, and you hold his hands a little tighter. "I really - "

Before you can finish, you're punched in the jaw by an impossibly powerful fist. You fly back, landing hard in the grass a few feet away. As you stumble to your feet, swearing and clutching your face, you summon your stand. It fucking figures there's a stand user here. Sometimes you wonder if you're some sort of stand magnet.

Polnareff frantically pulls himself up and dashes over to you. "(Y/N)!" he shouts, holding you by the shoulders and looking at your jaw. "Shit, are you alright?!"

You wince when Polnareff ghosts his fingers over the spot. "Probably not," you mutter, breathing in sharply through your nose. Polnareff freezes, and you shrug his other hand off of you. "We've gotta beat this guy, okay?"

"Y-yeah." Polnareff summons Silver Chariot and stands against your back, scanning the area for the stand or its user. You do the same, trying to push the pain out of your mind. "There!" Polnareff suddenly shouts, and you twist your head around.

It's a man; he's standing on the other side of the pond. He stalks up to the two of you, and as he walks, his stand slowly materializes behind him. It's extremely threatening, with a build that could rival Star Platinum and deep-set, bright red eyes. You force yourself to approach him and Polnareff follows you. Your stand is an archer, suited for long-range battle, and Polnareff's works better at a closer range, so you're usually able to cover each other's blind spots. Your stand pulls out an arrow and nocks it, aiming for the head of your enemy. "(Y/N), right?" he calls, a lax smirk on his face. "And Jean Pierre Polnareff." He and his stand take another step forward, and you tense. Polnareff's Silver Chariot is ready to strike at any moment. "Easy, easy!" he says, raising his hands on either side of his head. "I'm a fair man. Allow me to explain my stand to you."

You glance at Polnareff, and after a moment of hesitation he nods his head. Your stand lowers its bow while Silver Chariot points its rapier to the ground. The man slowly and surely approaches the two of you, and his stand waits beside him. "Thank you. Truce for now?" You grit your teeth and will yourself to nod. "I'm glad. Well, my stand is the Seven of Swords. Essentially, it's extremely powerful. I doubt you'll be able to get a single hit in, if I'm being honest." You can feel rage bubbling up inside you, and as hard as you try to fight it, you just can't kick the feeling. Your gaze flits to Polnareff; he looks just as angry as you.

Grimacing, you look back to the user. "My stand specializes in strength. Every punch it deals leaves a lasting effect - as I'm sure you've noticed, (Y/N)."

You want to scream. The smug look he's wearing and the searing pain in your face is all too much, and before he can continue, you have your stand quickly nock an arrow and fire. You hit him in his right shoulder - he had punched you with that arm - and he falls back, grasping at the wound. "Shit!" he shouts, leaning against his giant stand. With its left arm, Seven of Swords reaches out and yanks the arrow from its user's body.

You start to grin; it looks like you've knocked this guy down a notch. However, just when Polnareff moves to strike and you ready another arrow, he and his stand vanish. "What the hell?" Polnareff mutters, scanning the area. "Where could they have - "

"(Y/N), I'm disappointed!" You scream when the stand wraps its left arm around your neck, squeezing painfully but just lightly enough to let you remain conscious. The man leans in far too close and speaks. "You broke our truce. I suppose I can't be too angry... I wasn't exactly being completely truthful either." The stand's grip on you tightens, and you choke out a cough. Polnareff goes to slice through the arm around your neck, but before you even know what's happened, you're on the other side of the pond. Polnareff, now a great distance away, gapes at you before running over as quickly as he can.

"My Seven of Swords is a master of teleportation," the man announces. "Everything else is just a plus." His stand abruptly releases you, and as you gasp for air, the man grins. "I'm surprised by how easy it was to take care of you, (Y/N). Lord Dio had made you sound a lot tougher." You try to swear at him, but your voice is hoarse and barely understandable.

"(Y/N)!" You turn your head when Polnareff cries your name, and suddenly you're punched hard in the abdomen. You're knocked to the ground and your head smacks into the dirt, and the last thing you see before you lose consciousness is Polnareff's face, equal parts anguished and enraged.

-----

The first thing you note when you fade back into consciousness is a strong pain in your midsection. You groan, forcing your eyes open; looks like you were rescued. You're in your hotel room, and it seems like you're alone. You glance over at the window, gritting your teeth as you shift your aching neck, and you nearly laugh out loud when you see that stupid little dictionary sitting on your bed.

You hear the door open, and you turn to find Polnareff stepping through the doorway. "Hey," you say, your voice quieter than you'd intended.

He looks down at the sound of your voice and grins. "Glad to have you back," he replies softly. "I'm so relieved that you're alright." He carefully sits down beside you on the bed.

"Of course I'm alright." You crack a smile. "I wasn't gonna let that asshole kill me."

Polnareff laughs a little and nods. "Yeah, he was a real piece of shit. After he - after he knocked you out, I held him off for a little while until reinforcements arrived in the forms of Star Platinum and The Fool. The three of us had him crying like a baby."

"Thank God," you sigh. "He deserved it." You both fall into a little silence, neither of you quite sure of what to say. You remember exactly what you had been about to tell Polnareff when you were attacked, but you can't muster up the courage to try again now. "Even if it got fucked up at the end, thank you for the lovely afternoon," you finally say. "I really enjoyed our little picnic."

"So did I." Polnareff starts to speak more, but something catches his eye. You watch as he reaches over you and grabs something; it's the French dictionary. He peers down at it and starts flipping through the pages. Almost instantly he looks completely affronted, and you feel a laugh rise in your chest.

"What is it?" you ask him as he scoffs, shutting the book definitively and setting it back down.

"They made that thing so difficult to understand! It's so much simpler than that makes it out to be, really!" He shakes his head, clearly disappointed with the publication, and you let a little laughter escape. "How about this." He leans in towards you. "Instead of learning out of that stupid book, I can teach you! It'll be a lot more fun."

He's just so...charming. He's always so sincere, especially with you, and the pure kindness in his eyes as he speaks nearly takes your breath away. "That - that would be fun," you reply, too taken with him to think of anything else to say.

He grins. "Good. We can have your first lesson right now."

You laugh at that, making Polnareff jump a bit. "Already? What, am I gonna get homework too?"

He joins in on your laughter and shakes his head. "No, no, it'll be quick." Something in his expression softens, and you blink as he reaches out and places his hand gently over yours. He suddenly looks a lot more serious. "Tell me what I'm saying. Je suis amoureux de toi."

You open your mouth, softly whispering the words. Your mind's nearly a total blank; it seems you really didn't learn much from that dictionary. You're at least determined to get the beginning. "Ah... Je is 'I', so je suis would be 'I am',  right?"

Polnareff nods. He wraps his hand around yours and holds it, just as he had earlier today. "Yes. Je is 'I', suis is 'am'..." He lifts his other hand and entwines it with yours. You're not sure what he's saying but you allow yourself to hope, just a little.

Polnareff's voice is hardly above a whisper as he says, "Je suis amoureux de toi - I'm in love with you."

A huge smile breaks across your face and you feel like you're floating. When Polnareff sees your reaction, his smile widens as well, and he leans down and wraps you up in a careful hug. "I love you too," you murmur in his ear; you think you might burst into tears if you try to speak any louder. "I have for a while now. I'm so happy you - " Despite your best efforts, you feel yourself start to cry. Polnareff leans back a bit, and you're almost amused to see that he's crying too. You probably look like a couple of lovesick fools, and you're so, so, happy.

"I'll never be able to show you how much you mean to me, (Y/N)," Polnareff murmurs before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. "How much it means to me that you care."

"Of course I care," you whisper back, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair. "I care because you mean the world to me."

Polnareff looks down into your eyes, and you both take in each other's expressions. "You know, I think we're perfect for each other," he breathes, and as you start to agree, he moves forward and captures your lips in a kiss.

Nothing has ever felt more right than Polnareff's lips on yours. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him as close as you possibly can. He parts from you for just a moment to help you sit up a bit, so that he doesn't cause the injury to your midsection any pain. You wince when a particularly sharp pang of pain hits you, and Polnareff softly runs his hand over your hair. After a moment, the feeling dissipates, and you kiss him again.

"Je t'aime," you breathe against his lips, and he smiles. You gently kiss the corner of his mouth and then rest your head on his shoulder. As he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, you whisper, "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

It's pitch black out as Joseph drives the group's large car down the winding roads to Cairo, with only the faint radio and Avdol's occasional snores to keep him company. He isn't exactly happy about driving in these conditions, but you had needed a few extra hours of bedrest before you could start this little road trip. Every once in a while, he glances at the back seat, and he finds you, Jotaro, and Polnareff all fast asleep.

After a couple hours of driving, Joseph hears someone stir behind him. He glances up at the rearview mirror and watches as Polnareff rubs his eyes and groggily looks to his left. You're sleeping against him, with your head on his shoulder and one arm loosely wrapped around his midsection. Polnareff's mouth turns up in a little smile, and he carefully wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"So I see everything worked out for (Y/N)," Joseph comments. Polnareff looks up at him, surprised and a little embarrassed to find he was being watched, and Joseph just laughs shortly. "I've always known you two were going to end up together. You really are a perfect fit."

Polnareff's face goes red and he looks back at you. "...Yeah. I'm really lucky."

"Oh, I know!" Joseph laughs again, startling Polnareff. "You should've seen (Y/N) last night, pouring over the French language like their life depended on it. They wanted so badly to make you happy after this hell we've been through."

Polnareff almost feels like crying again. He can't believe how truly lucky he is to have found you. "Still," Joseph says, "it's not quite over yet." Polnareff watches Joseph's expression turn somber through the rear-view mirror. "We've still got to kill Dio."

"Yeah." As he gazes down at you, so peaceful in sleep, he feels a fire light in his mind. He'd do anything to keep you alive, and while killing Dio will surely be extremely difficult, he knows he's going to do it - for Joseph, for Jotaro, for Holly Kujo, and for you. "We'll do it. We'll kill him and we'll all be fine."

"You're quite the optimist," Joseph mutters, sighing. "I try to be as well, but I'm worried that our luck so far will finally catch up to us in this final battle."

Polnareff isn't quite sure what to say, but now there's no doubt in his mind that they'll succeed in the fight against Dio. He just sighs, careful not to disturb you, and rests his head against the car window. "Do you want me to stay awake with you?" he asks Joseph.

"No, I'm fine. We'll be there pretty soon." Polnareff nods and shuts his eyes, and Joseph quickly turns his eyes back to the road.

As Polnareff begins to doze off, he gently clasps your hand in his. He hasn't had a home for a long time; ever since he lost his sister, he hasn't known that feeling of having somewhere - or someone - you truly belong with. Now, next to you, he dares to hope he's feeling it again. He's always loved you, he's realizing - you've always made him feel this way, whenever you joked around together or fought side-by-side in battle. Knowing that you feel the same was the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Just before he falls asleep, he whispers a gentle, "I love you." He holds your hand a little tighter and finally drifts off.

Joseph casts one final glance at the two of you in the back seat. Unlike Polnareff, he's a little more worried about the potential outcome of the face-off with Dio. Maybe, though, just maybe - the endless love you two possess for one another will be what wins the fight.

[feareth-who]

I'm sorry it's so long but I hope you enjoy!! 😊

Two Braids Is All It Takes

Remus was always there. Whenever Sirius needed him, his Moony was always there.

Of all the things in the sob story that was Sirius’ life, Remus had been a consistent source of comfort. The lingering scent of chocolate and fresh parchment had been -is- one just as much.

This particular full moon had been horrendous. The toll it had taken on Remus’ body had had him prone in bed for two whole days. To top it all off, Sirius had received a howler from his mother this morning.

Sirius had been brooding the rest of the day, berating himself for being so pathetic that he couldn’t even get himself to comfort Moony. He hadn’t even responded to James’ words of comfort.

“James,” Sirius began, voice still thick with tears, “You should go-“

“No, Siri-“

“James.”

Prongs shut his eyes, steadying himself, and bowed his head.

He looked up after a few seconds, having made a decision.

"You’ll be okay right?” His tone was anxious, “I’ll send for Wormtail, wait-“

“Prongs,” Sirius put a hand on his shoulder, cutting him off, “Just leave me be. I’ll be fine. You should go to Moons, I’ll try to come by later.”

The couch cushions shifted as James got to his feet and moved to the door. He turned back to give Sirius one last look-over before offering him a small smile. Sirius returned it rather weakly.

Sirius screwed his eyes shut. Now James was gone too. Had his mother been right? Would he always be this alone? His miserable thoughts gave way to new tears. He bit his lip hard, choking on a sob. He took deep breaths but they only seemed to start the sobs anew.

Today was the evening of third day, and Remus insisted that he was better. Madam Pomfrey spent nearly an hour confirming it, and after bettering his remaining daylight hours with one last sticky, sour potion, left him to his own devices.

James told him of Sirius’ condition then, and Remus asked to meet him, despite James’ protests that he should return to the dorms to rest. Ultimately, Prongs gave out a resigned sigh and got Remus to the Gryffindor Common Room with Wormtail’s help

The three padded softly into the place, Remus looking just as anxious to check on Sirius as was James. The man in question, however, was so out of it that he didn’t even register their entry.

Peter sighed in long-sufferance. He whispered, “I think it’ll be better if we leave him with you, Rem.”

“Moony, I think you’re the only one who can get through to him right now,” James murmured, “He refused to say a word when I tried”

“I’ll try,” Remus paused, still staring at Sirius’ pitiful form. He smiled at his friends, “You guys should go get some sleep, you must be exhausted from all the running.”

The two helped Remus as he limped to the couch. Once he managed to stand with the support of the couch’s backrest, he waved them away and listened to the sound of their footsteps fading up the staircase followed by that of a door creaking shut.

Remus accio’d a nearby chair and sat down heavily. His eyes moved to Sirius, and before he knew it, his hands were carding through Sirius’ tangled, knotted hair. There was a jolt as Sirius startled himself out of Remus’ grasp, and relaxed evidently once he realized whose smiling face it was.

He looks so pretty like this, was all Remus could think, I don’t deserve him.

He lifted himself off the chair with great effort, moving to the front of the couch, settling down next to Sirius. He placed his left foot on the ground and stretched his right leg across the couch onto Sirius’ lap, leaning against the armrest. Sirius tracked his movements with an absent look in his eyes.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Sirius said abruptly, eyes coming back into focus.

“That isn’t for you to decide,” Remus replied casually, “I feel better, because everything feels better when you’re around”

Remus suspected it was a mixture of the late hour and mild relief from three days of agony that was allowing him to say and do things he’d regret later, but retrospect can’t hurt in the moment, can it?

Sirius froze for a second, a blush creeping across his face as he processed the statement.

Remus whooped internally, he’d provoked a rare moment of uncertainty from Sirius, even though the context he would have to give to James to explain his achievement would be wildly embarrassing.

Clearing his throat, Sirius shifted towards where his face lay on the couch, “Is your leg better?”

"Yeah, much better.” Remus hesitated, thinking vaguely of consequences, though it was kind of hard to do while he was distracted by Sirius’ moonlit, godly face, the firelight throwing his freckles and scars into aggravating focus.

“Lay down” Remus said finally.

“I’m not your dog,” Sirius growled, earning a chuckle from the other man.

“Merlin, Pads….” Remus sat up himself, a small distance away from Padfoot.

“Okay, sit down here.” He says, nodding to the place on the floor where his sock-clad feet are resting.

Sirius eyed the floor dubiously.

“Just humour me, will you?”

Sirius still looked puzzled, but complied nonetheless. Leaning cautiously against the werewolf’s legs, he crumpled the letter held in his hand, his clouded gaze staring vacantly at the dying flames in the heart.

Remus smiled minutely, and brought his hands up to Sirius’ hair, tugging gently at the strands like his mother used to do to soothe him. He continued to do so as Sirius’ body starts loosening up.

After a while, Remus probed, "You wanna talk about it?" Sirius hummed before answering with a small smile,"Same old crap." Remus let out a light chuckle and shifted his hands to massage Sirius' head.

Sirius moved himself to lie on Remus' chest. He felt home, a home he'd never felt in the house of the Blacks. It smelled like home, it felt like home. To him, it was always home and it would always be so.

The silence continued, until Remus stopped with his actions. Sirius, who was almost asleep let out a groan before opening his eyes. "Moons," he said with a sleepy voice. Getting up from his chest, Sirius looked at a frozen Remus. Panicking he asked, "Moony..Moony! You alright?" Snapping out of his thoughts, Remus looked at Sirius and smiled.

"Moons?" Sirius questioned again.

"Can I braid your hair?" Remus posed casually.

This was the second time Sirius had frozen with a flushed face that night. Remus couldn't believe it, but he smirked at the effect he had on the man.

"Can I braid your hair, Pads?" Remus asked again.

The idea of braiding, Lily and Marlene had suggested it and even offered to do so but he had refused it. The only thing going through his head at the moment was- moons wants to braid my hair!!

"Ahem, Pads?" Remus said bringing Padfoot back to earth from his heaven. "Ah, yes... sorry, I was just a little surprised... ofcourse please go ahead," he rambled. He mentally cursed himself for doing so and turning away he placed his now red face in his hands. He could feel himself burning up because Merlin, Moony is going to braid his hair.

He straightened himself and sat in anticipation. Moony brought his hands to Sirius' hair and played with it while deciding which braid to do. Remus combed Sirius' hair with his fingers and the tension in his body eased out. He started to breathe evenly as Remus began parting his hair and pulling his strands into what felt like curls around one another.

French tails, that's what Remus ended up with two small, cute little french plaits. Five minutes ago, he couldn't decide what to do since the idea had struck him so suddenly. Playing with Sirius' hair had reminded him of his mother. Hope had taught Remus baking, cooking, knitting and plaiting his mother's hair. She was the only person he did it for.

But now, in front of him sat the man he loved, in two French plaits, the first braided hair his mum taught him. In front of him, sat a man staring at himself in a mirror he ran to pick up from across the room, which probably belonged to Marlene but it didn't matter. Sirius was smiling, that was all Remus would ever need.

Remus looked down and grinned. He felt proud but more ecstatic than anything. Sirius got up and jumped, laughed and said things which Remus didn't care to hear because oh merlin he's so handsome.

He was fighting the urge to get up and kiss him, confess to him and tell him that he loved him, he truly did.

On the other hand, Sirius jumped up and down looking at his Moony and shouted, "These are amazing Moons! You are amazing!" Sirius could've sworn that he almost thought leaping at Remus and kissing him but no.. this would be enough.

He smiled brightly at him once again, as Remus now regained consciousness from his thoughts. "I'm glad you like it," he said clearing his throat. He slowly got up and raised his hand to caress Sirius' hair but accidentally tripped. Sirius instantly grabbed the man by his waist and smiled," Woah, careful there Moons." "I keep falling for you, I can't help it you idiot," Remus said arbitrarily.

Again, Sirius thought, it's the third time this night moons please. His hands moved from the man's waist to his neck. Sirius lunged forward causing his and Remus' lips to crash. The kiss lasted a good minute before Sirius pulled away.

"I like you.." they said together and broke into giggles.

"Thank God you do," Remus said blushing.

"Ofcourse I do, boyfriend," Sirius teased making Remus more flustered.

And now all Sirius had to think about was, getting Moony to braid his hair because oh merlin there was nothing better than- Moony, his Moony.

And now the two lied curled up on the couch with Remus thinking, two braids is all it takes.

Ok please I'm not amazing or anything but I hope you enjoyed it!!

Thank you @alex-tries for helping me correct my silly mistakes

Tagging: @star-dust-2317 here! Hope u like it

[excitedlysuffering]

When You Can Sing/Dance

Just a random I thought of, hope you enjoy!

(s/n)= Song name (b/n)= Brother name

Masterlist

Naruto (Singing)~

Your hips swayed back and forth as you sang quietly to yourself. You were washing the dishes from the dinner you and Naruto had shared, while he set up the pillow fort and board games. As you really got into your song, (s/n), your volume began to increase.

Soon you had finished, but you twirled around the kitchen as the melody carried all through your house. Just as you reached up to put the last dish onto the shelf, you felt arms wrap around your torso.

“You never told me you could sing, baby.” A voice breathed into your ear. You shrieked, embarrassed at having been caught. “Naruto! Um… how’s the fort?” He laughed, spinning you around. “Don’t change the subject, (Y/N), you have a beautiful voice.” You couldn’t help your blush, so you hid your face in his shoulder.

“Thanks, Naru. Did you finish the fort?” He nodded eagerly, dragging you to the living room. “Yeah! It takes up the whole living room, and I added a mini snack bar, the games, and some blankets and pillows to lay on!”

You kissed his cheek before excitedly climbing in. “It’s perfect! What do you want to do first?” The blonde smirked, tackling you onto a pillow, causing you to laugh. “You should sing to me! Pleaseee...” He pleaded.

As much as you wanted to refuse, he was the king of puppy dog eyes. The second his cerulean orbs met yours, you knew you’d be singing to him for a while. “Alright, alright, what do you want to hear?” He shrugged, laying his head in your lap.

“I don’t care, as long as you’re the one singing.” Your blush came back in full force as you ran your hands through his blonde locks.

“Okay, I’ll sing (s/n)...” You started the song Naruto had caught you singing in the kitchen. Your voice carried all through your fort, but your attention was only on your boyfriend, who’s eyes were closed as he listened to you.

You lost track of how songs you went through before realizing he was snoring quietly. You couldn’t help but smile, studying him in order to remember this moment forever.

Sasuke (Dancing/Hip Hop)~

Really he hadn’t meant to barge in on you. He heard a series of loud thuds and all he could think of was you being hurt. What he didn’t expect to see, however, was you in the middle of your living room, all your furniture moved. You were dressed in spandex and a tank top, hair swaying, hips sashaying, and your body completing all types of complicated moves in rapid succession.

He could only watch, shocked into absolute silence. What had happened to his usually calm, softspoken girlfriend? Sasuke, as surprised as he was, couldn’t complain. You looked like some sort of divine goddess and he was mesmerized.

He had no idea how long he stood there captivated as you danced in your room, oblivious to his presence. When your song and routine finished, you looked towards the door, your face instantly going red. Leaning against the threshold was your boyfriend, not at all looking suave and unbothered as usual. Sasuke looked quite the opposite actually. His jaw was slack and his eyes wide.

“Hey… how long have you been standing there?” He took three long strides towards you, a smirk forming on his lips. “Long enough to know that you should be doing that more often.” You covered your face, trying to hide your cheeks. You groaned as the Uchiha wrapped his arms around you, laughing quietly.

“Don’t be like that, kitten, that was amazing. You have a real talent.” You looked up, practically glowing at the praise. “Really?” He nodded, smiling softly. “Really. If I’d known you were such a great dancer, I would’ve been flaunting you around already.”

You giggled, knowing he wasn’t exaggerating in the slightest. You could just imagine Sasuke yelling at a random person who was dancing and just shoving you forward and saying, “My girl is a better dancer than you!”. It was a funny thought, and you giggled a little.

“Well, maybe when I perfect this routine I can show you.” He grinned, ruffling your hair a bit. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve already perfected this, so there’s no reason to wait.” You laughed at his eagerness and pushed him out the door. “See you later, babe!” He protested as you closed the door, laughing.

Shikamaru (Singing)~

Your mom had asked you last second to watch your little brother, (b/n), last-second when his typical babysitter had to cancel. Rather than cut your date short, Shikamaru had agreed to help you out.

“SHIKAMARU!” The hyperactive five-year old ran towards you both as soon as the door opened. His small arms wrapped around Shikamaru’s legs in a hug. You sweatdropped as he totally ignored your existence. “Hey, buddy! You excited to hang out?” Shikamaru asked picking him up.

“Yes! I haven’t seen you in forever!” You giggled at the sight. Your two favorite boys got along so well, and it made your heart swell.

“Hey, (b/n)!” He waved half-heartedly as Shika walked down the hall. “Oh, hey, (Y/N).” Your jaw dropped at the mediocre greeting. You shrugged it off as you took your shoes off and followed them into the living room.

“So what do you want to do first?” Shika asked the excited child who had his legs wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck and was hanging upside down. “Let’s play Candyland! I just got it and it’s so fun!”

That is how you found yourself locked in a very competitive game with (b/n) and Shikamaru. The boys complained, your brother even sounding like Shika when he said this was a ‘drag’ when you won. You just laughed while your boyfriend looked like a proud parent.

You looked at the time sighing in relief when you saw the time. It was almost three o’clock, the time for your brother’s daily nap. As much as you loved (b/n), he was a ball of boundless energy and he was exhausting. Especially when you had just finished your sixteenth straight game of Candyland.

“Hey, look at the time. Looks like it’s time for someone’s nap…” (B/n) groaned but, stood up obediently and yawned. “Shika will you tuck me in?” He looked uncharacteristically excited to comply with his request. You didn’t mind not being asked, you would prefer the tucking in tradition to remain a secret.

“(Y/N/N), aren’t you coming?” You internally panicked at the sight of your brother pouting. “O-of course I’m coming!” You jumped up, hurriedly guiding him to his room, trying to ignore Shika’s amused expression.

Per (b/n)’s request, you had no choice but to sing his favorite lullaby, the same one you sang him every day. As you quietly sang the words, lulling him to sleep, Shika’s eyes widened beside you. In minutes he was asleep, and you sighed in relief, ready to have this moment over with. The second you were out of the room you were in Shikamaru’s arms, his face one of awe.

“That was beautiful, (Y/N)... why haven’t you told me you could sing?” You shrugged, laughing quietly as to not wake the sleeping child. “You never asked, Shika.” He rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Troublesome woman. Well, now I know and I want to hear more.”

Neji (Dancing/Ballet)~

Neji had always been prone to just walking into your house unannounced and uninvited. It wasn’t that you necessarily minded, it was just that you had no idea how he did it. Your door was never unlocked, but he just waltzed like it was.

Today was one of those days, but this time you weren’t there to screech at the sudden sight of your boyfriend. He frowned and looked around your home. As he wandered around, his ears picked up the sound of piano music. He traced to the one room in your house he had never seen.

He silently opened the door, not knowing what to expect. Even though he was usually pretty even-tempered, he couldn’t help but be flabbergasted at the sight of the room. It was clearly a ballet studio, and you were in the middle, in a black leotard and ballet slippers.

He had seen you fight and knew how agile, graceful, and light on your feet you were, but now it all made sense. The way you effortlessly spun and twirled and leaped…

He was utterly and completely entranced by you. He could tell you’d been doing ballet for years by your skill level. Something about seeing you doing something so… beautiful and precise made him fall a little more in love with you the longer he watched.

“(Y/N)... you’re amazing.” You froze, midturn at the voice. “Neji? What are- what are you doing here?” He couldn’t stifle his large smile, as he grasped your hands in his own. “Well, I came to see you, but I wasn’t expecting this. You have so much talent, Angel!”

You grinned pecking his lips. “Thank you, Neji… I took it up as a hobby when I was little, but it’s actually increased my skills as a shinobi so I kept it up.”

He chuckled breathlessly. “I’ll say. I’m glad I chose to come over when I did.” You laughed as you realized he probably broke in again. “Me too. Although, I really want to know how you get in!” He shrugged smirking as he let you go.

“If you show me your routine, I’ll tell you exactly how I do it.” You grinned, nodding ecstatically. “You’re on!”

You mentally cheered as you started the song over, excited to show Neji this part of you, and find out his secret.

Kiba (Singing)~

The second you had learned that Kiba was sick with a terrible fever, you had rushed over bags of supplies in tow. You found your boyfriend in his bed, shivering with blankets and Akamaru wrapped around him.

“Kiba? How are you feeling?” He moaned, his face nearly matching his red fangs. Even though he was shivering, he was sweating profusely. “I’m really cold…” He was cut off by a coughing fit, causing your heart to break a little more at the sight.

“I brought some medicine and soup, do you think you can keep it down?” Akamaru, as if knowing his owner was in good hands, jumped off the bed, letting you take his spot. “Yeah,” he whispered tiredly. You frowned as you placed a hand on his forehead. “Kiba, you’re burning up!”

You rushed to the bathroom, running a rag under cold water. You were relieved at the contented sigh Kiba let out when the rag touched his head.

“Alright, I have the medicine, can you open for me?” It made you nervous about how different he was. His mouth barely opened and he didn’t bother to complain about the unpleasant taste. “Do you want to eat? Or save it for later?” His tired eyes lifted up to yours as he sniffled.

“Just wanna sleep… will you stay with me?” You nodded, propping up a pillow and leaning back as his head came to rest on your lap. “Thank you, (Y/N/N).” He mumbled. A small smile pulled at your lips as you combed a hand through his hair.

“You’re welcome, babe. Now get some sleep, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.” You felt him nod once as he laid an arm over your torso. You watched him as he fell asleep, but you could tell it wasn’t restful. In all honesty, he looked quite miserable.

Without a second thought, you began to sing a quiet song (A/N: Think sad/slow song like Sam Smith or John Legend) that always calmed you down. Kiba’s face, which was scrunched, slowly smoothed out. His features finally looked relaxed, but you kept singing, not wanting to break the effect.

“You sound like an angel…” You paused in surprise, Kiba’s scratchy voice surprising you. You laid a small kiss on his forehead. “Rest, baby, you need it.” He silently placed your hand back in his brown locks, already half asleep. You complied with a chuckled. You resumed your singing, happy that he was finally getting some much-needed shut eye.

Gaara (Dancing/Salsa)~

We all know Gaara can be a little insecure at times, he trusted your word, of course, but somethings he just couldn’t ignore. Like when he was on the way to your house and saw you get into a man’s car and leave. He knew it was petty, but he couldn’t help it. You were dressed in a tight red, cocktail dress and he had on dress clothes, for goodness sake! In his mind, he had no choice but to follow you. What if you were going on a date with someone else? What if he was just a side piece?!

However, he was very confused when your car had pulled into a dance studio. What would you being doing there? Could you even dance? He’d never seen you do it.

Still, he waited a minute to follow you in, he didn’t want to be caught spying on you. He saw you enter a room and quickly tailed you around the corner, and into a room filled with two other couples. What kind of date was this…?

He stayed behind the door, just peeking his head out. Upbeat music that he didn’t recognize played throughout the room and everyone took their places. He was absolutely horrified as you began seductively dancing with the man. His hands were all on your waist and your thighs… he couldn’t watch anymore of it. He stomped over and gently but firmly ripped you out of his grasp.

Your (e/c) orbs met his seafoam ones, in shock. “What are you doing?!” Your lips parted in surprise and your cheeks reddened in humiliation as everyone’s eyes landed on you. “Gaara?! What are you doing here?!” His eyes narrowed at the man behind you.

“I was going to go to see you, but then I saw you leave with him! What is going on?” Even though he was scowling, you couldn’t help burst out laughing. “You think this funny? You think I like seeing my girlfriend out with other guys?”

The hurt in his voice stopped you short. “Gaara, this isn’t a date. I haven’t told you, because I wanted it to be a surprise, but I salsa dance and I’m performing at a recital. This is practice…” His face matched his ruby red hair. “P-practice?” I smiled, snaking my arms around his torso.

“Don’t sweat it, man, if I were in your position I probably would’ve been worse.” (R/n), your partner assured him. “Heh, yeah… sorry for interrupting, I’ll, um, be off now.” You grabbed his hand before he could dash off.

“Why don’t you stay? We can go out after.” He sighed in relief before nodding. “Okay.” You watched as he took a seat close to the wall.

You walked out of the studio hand in hand, to his car. “You were fantastic, (Y/N/N)! But… you should teach me to salsa because I’m the only one who should be able to touch you like that.” You giggled as you reached the car. “Deal.”

Kakashi (Singing)~

You and Kakashi were often paired together for missions, thanks to both of your skills and great chemistry. Tonight the two of you had a simple mission; infiltrate a Daimyo’s party, get him alone, then kill him. It was a dire mission, seeing as he had sent spies to collect info on the Hokage.

Just like all the evil old men that were your targets on your missions, he had a soft spot for pretty girls. Kakashi grumbled the whole way to the party, but with the promise of being careful (and a couple of kisses) he agreed to follow your lead.

There was a mini stage for impromptu singers and entertainers, and it was right in front of where the Daimyo’s table was. He was surrounded by girls young enough to be his daughter, which made you scrunch your nose up in disgust. “I have an idea, stay here, okay?”

The silver-haired jonin nodded sharply, his gaze not leaving you as you made yours to the stage. The guest of honor’s eyes seemed to drawn to you as well. You felt him look you up and down, your short, tight dress leaving little to the imagination.

You schooled your expression as you addressed the crowd. “This song is dedicated to the Daimyo, who has surely caught my eye.” You winked at him, trying to suppress your gag.

The song you sang was sultry and seductive, complete with your swinging hips. Everyone, not just the Daimyo, seemed to be enraptured as your steamy melody drifted through the venue.

As soon as you finished, he was already heading towards you. “Follow me, darling.” You permitted yourself to be dragged down a hallway behind the stage. You sent your nervous boyfriend a reassuring smile as you disappeared.

As soon as the door closed behind you, a senbon was in your hand. “Sorry, Daimyo, but your treason will not be tolerated.” His eyes widened. “Wha-” He dropped to the ground, two senbons silencing him.

Kakashi had entered the room five minutes after you had done the deed, clearly stunned. “Wow. That was an impressive display, love. I would love for you to reenact that when we get home…” He stated, suggestively. His hands rested on your waist and brought you closer to them.

You raised an eyebrow and gestured to the dead man. “I wasn’t aware you had a death wish, Kashi.” He rolled his eye, laughing. “If that means I get to hear you sing to me…” You laughed, kissing his cheek.

“How about I’ll just sing?” His joking smile turned sincere. “I would love that.”

~Akatsuki~

Pein (Dancing/Ballroom)~

You were bored out of your mind, there was nothing to do. Pein and Konan had left on a mission, and a lot of the others were out too. You spent most of your time in the orange-haired leader’s room since the majority of your things were already in there.

Pein hadn’t really given you a time frame, but so far it had been three and a half days, so they should be here soon right? You sure hoped so. You had already spun around in his chair like a child, read every slightly entertaining book in his room (not many) and you completed some overdue mission reports

You were quickly running out of time-consuming activities when your gaze landed on his cloak. Pein had never seemed like a dancing type, so you never had a partner to dance with. But now that no one was around it gave you a perfect opportunity to do what you love.

Before you’d gone rogue, you were part of a wealthy family and they had a passion for throwing parties where’d there be dancing all night. That was the only thing you liked about it, being able to forget everything and just twirl the night away.

You grabbed Pein’s spare cloak and held it the way one would their partner. You hummed a tune, it helps you keep your beat as you made your way around the room. You were actually having quite a bit of fun, and your humming got louder as you waltzed.

“What are you doing?” You shrieked, coming face to face with White Zetsu. (A/N: Hah, you thought it was Pein) Although you wondered where Black Zetsu was, you weren’t upset. He was always talking about eating you and the like.

“Um, dancing? What are you doing here?” Zetsu gave you a small smile. “Looking for Pein, I assume he’s not in?” I shook my head. “Unfortunately not.”

He gave you a strange look. “Why do you dance with a cloak?” You laughed. “Cause there’s no one else!” Zetsu took the cloak from you and set on the bed. “I’ll dance with you then. I’ve always enjoyed it, but Black Zetsu doesn’t dance.” Instead of questioning it, you shrugged and got into position with a simple ‘okay’.

He was actually really good, but you didn’t comment on it because it was nice finally having someone to dance with.

“Um, did I miss something?” You both spun around, your eyes meeting a confused Pein in the doorway. You smiled walking over to him. “Nope, Zetsu and I just like to dance.” His quizzical expression didn’t leave his face as you and Zetsu continued to dance as if nothing had happened.

“I had no idea you could dance like this. Where’d you learn?” You smiled at my lover as he approached you. “Society parties were a must, so I learned early. What about you Zetsu?” He smiled. “That’s a secret. Unfortunately, I must take my leave. Black Zetsu is waiting for me.”

With a small smile, he disappeared through the floor, leaving you and Pein alone. You flashed him a grin and held out a hand.

“Wanna learn to dance?” He placed his hand in yours. “I’d be honored.”

Deidara (Singing)~

You hummed quietly to yourself as you cooked dinner. It was your week to cook for the Akatsuki, and even though it was a lot of work catering to everyone’s individual preferences and needs, it was a fun job for you.

You had always used singing as a way to pass the time and this time was no different. You loved to sing older, classical songs, ones you would hear at the fanciest events. They would completely captivate you every time you heard them.

Your voice carried through the room as you lost yourself in the lyrics. You were so enraptured with your singing and cooking that you didn’t even notice your audience of one. A low, smooth voice joined in, harmonizing with yours.

You whipped around, the sight of Deidara causing you to freeze. He kept singing, but the smile on his face encouraged you to continue your little duet. The lyrics you two were singing seemed to mingle together, complimenting and enhancing each other.

As you both grew more confident, you began to draw closer together, and it looked as if you were serenading each other. The blonde-haired artist couldn’t keep the grin off his face, and neither could you. This moment was so perfect you didn’t think anything could ruin it.

You knew it would be easy to get used to his voice, it was so playful and soothing… it fit him like a glove the more you thought about it.

As the song came to a close you could tell Deidara wasn’t satisfied. “One more time? Since I missed the beginning and all.” He smirked mischievously. You grinned, holding his hands in yours.

“I guess since you asked so nicely, I can do it one more time.” You teased with a laugh. He lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed your palm. With a wink, he dived right into the first few words. Without hesitation you joined in, once again creating a beautiful harmony that could be heard all around the base.

You both were in utter bliss at this new experience. Never would you have imagined you and Deidara singing together, but now that it was happening you couldn’t imagine this any other way. Your arms made their way around his neck and his around your waist, but it did nothing to interrupt your flawless performance.

The sound of hushed whispers did, however. “Did you know they could do that?” “No! I’ve never heard either of them sing…” “He’s so whipped!” SMACK. “Shut up! This is so sweet!”

You and Deidara let go of each other, startled by the sudden appearance of Konan, Hidan, and Itachi.

“Oh, um heyyy… dinner is almost ready?” You stuttered trying to draw attention from you and Deidara’s little spectacle. Itachi’s eyebrow raised, a smirk on his lips. “You mean that?” He pointed to the burning, unrecognizable mess in a pan. “Um, takeout?” You suggested sheepishly.

Deidara laughed, his lips landing on your cheek. “Sounds good to me, Princess.” “SEE!?” Hidan exclaimed, “He’s whipped- OW! STOP, KONAN!”

[heli0s-writes]

Surprises

Summary: You and Bucky babysit the Barton clan. Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes A/N: Silliness, little angst at the end. TW: Mentions infertility.

Bag of Tricks One-Shot Masterlist

You are surprisingly good with kids.

When you visited the Barton farm for the first time, all of Clint’s kids loved you. After the initial excitement over Captain America, Thor, and Auntie Nat, they always came back to you. You’d be plopped down on the couch, flipping through the channels, and Clint’s daughter would find her way into your lap with a picture book.

To be polite, you had read it to her the first time, accidentally becoming very invested in the Lorax’s plight for environmental justice and the next thing you knew, your voice was loud and booming, rising and falling with the cadence of each line. The boys had shown up, too, clapping and cheering at the end and requested another book.

Clint never let you live down reading his kids four books that evening. And building a blanket fort. And rolling yourself up in the blanket and hobbling after them.

The next time you returned, Lila had moved onto chapter books, and you were happy to help her read those as well. She had a lot of questions about volcanoes and dinosaurs, and you would answer them to the best of your ability. She knew quite a lot for a 2nd grader, so you ended up asking her quite a few questions about volcanoes and dinosaurs as well (who the heck knows how to pronounce Deinonychus anyway?)

At the end of the night, she was curled up in your lap while you braided her hair. You were glad she fell asleep because it was quite honestly a travesty that all 7 braids were different sizes and shapes.

“You ever think about raising your own kid?” Clint asked later that night. “In this business? Pfft.”

So, you settled on being the Barton’s babysitter when they needed one. And on one dark October night, you enlist Bucky Barnes’ help.

-

“Can you braid my hair while we watch the movie?” Lila asks as she settles in next to you on the couch. Cooper and Nate are down on their bellies in front, squished pillows underneath them to soften the hardwood flooring.

“Lila,” You sigh, “You don’t remember this, but last time I braided your hair… you looked terrible.”

“It’s okay.” She giggles, “It just feels nice!”

Bucky is on the other side of the couch, gaze attached to the slasher movie you had been told specifically not to put on for the kids. With a slight kick to his knee, you ask him for help with your eyes. Lila doesn’t know, but you can’t braid worth a shit—most of what happened to her hair last time had a lot to do with sheer dumb luck. And it was still a travesty.

She might say that she doesn’t care, but you know any eight-year-old girl cares about what their hair looks like. Even if it’s just a night in with her brothers.

He sends you an annoyed look back, because you dragged him to bumfuck middle of 80 acres of nowhere and he’s watching Planet Terror with a bunch of children. Barton is going to skin his ass when he gets back.

“Bucky, can you braid?” You whisper as Rose McGowan fires her fucking machinegun leg and the ricochet shudders through the T.V.

“Yes.” He replies.

“Help a girl out, man.” You motion to Lila, who has now covered her eyes as red sprays from an enormous wound. Bucky grimaces at the way your fingers have separated three locks. Already it is a tangled mess and you haven’t even started.

“What are you trying to do? Give the kid dreadlocks?” He scowls, slapping your hand away and scooting over so that she’s now mostly in front of him and you are squished and diagonal, pushed away by his shoulder. In mere minutes he makes short work of the herculean task you had tried to take on.

It’s a perfect fishtail braid, and he’s even used strands of her hair to wrap around the elastic neatly. You stare open-mouthed at him as Lila pats the back of her head and happily squeals at what he’s done. Bucky grunts in reply and then sinks back into the sofa, crossing his arms.

“I gotta turn this off. This can’t be good for the kids.”

--

“EARTHQUAKE!” You scream, grabbing the edge of the dinner table and rocking it so hard all the pieces of the board game fall over. Cooper is out of his seat, throwing his hands up in the air as he yells, “CHEATER!” And Nate looks like he’s on the verge of tears.

Lila could care less, still enamored by her beautifully weaved locks.

Bucky puts his face in his hands as you expertly dodge the metal dog and thimble piece Cooper is throwing at you. It’s bad enough that you had been massively in debt to the bank but shaking the board because you were losing is a new level of low. The kids chase you around the house and throw pillows at you when you climb too far out of their reach. Pastel strips of Monopoly money lay scattered all over the house.

Bucky hisses your name as you perch on the hutch in the dining room. “Get down from there! Christ!”

Nate tosses a cushion up that you swat away easily. Cooper throws a cookie that you catch in your mouth. “I’ll die before I come down.” You mutter, “Stupid, capitalist, Monopoly-monocle’d, pocketwatched motherfu—”

A pillow to the face muffles the rest of your complaint and Bucky points at you in a silent scolding. Thank God he has good aim because if the Bartons come home from date night and little Nate was calling someone a motherfucker, Laura would skin his ass.

“You are terrible with children!” He whispers when the kids leave the room to find something else to do.

Slowly, you climb down and pat his shoulder. “My favorite part about kids is the part where I give them back to their parents.” You admit. “I didn’t think they’d take this long.”

From the corner of the dining room, Nate and Cooper rush forward screaming at you. Pillows are raised high above their heads as they leap and pummel you with the fluffy squares. You shriek and fall down and make a huge show about it—something about melting and turning green and flying monkeys. It’s all too much, but the kids love it and tell you it’s what you deserve for being a cheater.

But then Nate and Cooper yelp as you snatch their ankles in your hand and stand tall, holding them upside down. It’s easy to forget that you have super-human strength because you certainly don’t look like it. But it’s on display now as you spin around on your heels and take the boys circling with you.

Nate’s head misses the corner of a wooden chair by centimeters and Bucky thinks he might fucking faint. Lila takes this opportunity to try and jump on your back to save her brothers, but she’s just a fraction too slow and your arm crashes into her instead, sending all three siblings tumbling and you as well.

Bucky sighs severely as he stands over the mess in the kitchen. One adult (tentatively labeled), three children, rubbing their heads and limbs, pouting like babies. There is a swelling mark underneath Nate’s hairline and he rubs it gingerly, whimpering when his fingers touch it.

You run to the refrigerator for an icepack before he can burst into tears.

-

Forgiveness is earned after three hurriedly made root beer floats—extra whipped cream piled so high that it overtakes the entire glass and the kids stick half their noses in it to try and lick some off. You slump heavily in a chair and dig a spoon into your own glass of fizzing cream and soda.

A single cherry is plopped on top of the bubbles. Bucky peers down at you, licking the syrup off his finger with a smirk.

“I guess you’re not so bad with kids.” He says, glancing over at where the three previously dour Bartons sit, now giddy with cheer as they slurp their desserts. Cooper has stuck his finger in his glass, scooping up the last remnants of sweetness before turning over and eyeing Nate’s half-full container.  

You throw the cherry into your mouth and grin, “Yeah. I’m kind of a miracle worker.” And then your tongue pokes around in your mouth and you shut one eye as if in intense contemplation. When you stick your tongue out again, the cherry stem has been tied into a little knot, glistening with spit.

“Woah!” Lila yells, “How’d you do that?”

“I wanna learn!” Cooper rushes forward, peering at the stem between your fingers, and then all three kids are screeching, “me too!” and jumping in circles around the table. Bucky puts both his hands up when you start explaining what to do because he—an actual, reasonable, adult—does not think teaching three kids to tie a cherry stem into a knot is a good idea.

Before he can do much else, the Barton children are shoving each other and arguing. Then they break out into laughter and take off into the living room. All Bucky hears next is screaming and the sound of six feet jumping on every cushion there is. They tumble, wrestle, run, and in general act like little hazards. Nate screeches at the top of his lungs—just because, apparently.

Bucky takes your spoon from your mouth and scoops a big chunk of ice cream for himself, resigned to getting skinned. When Clint and Laura come home and find their kids cracked out on sugar at—he checks the clock—good fuck, half past midnight, they are going to kill the both of you.

The spoon is still in his mouth when he mumbles, “You are terrible with kids.”

--

“Huh.” Clint says when he enters the living room and finds all five of you settled in comfortably with the children sound asleep. Laura’s cheeks are a bit peachier than you remember and there’s a lazy little smile that graces her features as she peers down at her children.

“Sorry—they fell asleep during the movie and I didn’t have the heart to wake ‘em up.” You say with a sheepish grin, tilting your chin up and watching him upside down.

“That’s okay, kid.” Clint grins, hand on his hip. “Jeez, you really wore ‘em out. What’dja do?” He gives Bucky a curious look but doesn’t say much else. The two of you are sharing a blanket in the middle of the floor, heads propped up by one couch cushion. Lila is to your left with her head on your arm, fishtail braid bursting apart, strands of hair flaying about around her head like a halo. Cooper and Nate are on the other side of Bucky, mouths open and snoring softly.

They’re even changed into their pajamas, teeth brushed and everything.

Slowly, Clint picks up Lila and Cooper and Laura does the same to Nate. They go upstairs to put the kids to bed while you and Bucky peel the blanket off, quietly making your exit.

Before you can reach the car, the front door swings shut and Clint is stepping out with his hands tucked in his pockets. “Hey.” He calls, “Thanks for the night. Laura and I haven’t been out alone in months.”

“Don’t mention it.” You beam. Behind you, Bucky scoffs just enough for you to hear.

“You sure you don’t want any kids? You’re damn good with ‘em.”

Bucky snorts louder, kicks the dirt beneath this boot and puts his hand on your shoulder, “Her favorite part is giving ‘em back.” He announces before you clamp your hand over his mouth. His eyes twinkle under the moonlight as Clint waves goodbye and retreats into his home. The screen door clicks quietly, and you watch the yellow glow of each room turn off until the cabin is just an afterimage against the darkness.

“You think brushing twice was good?” You mutter with a sigh as Bucky pulls out of the dirt driveway.

“No, which was why I suggested mouthwash.”

A silence passes before you suck on your teeth and say, “Hey, check it out.”

Peeling your lips back, you show him the cherry stem from earlier in the night, now neatly tied with another knot next to the first one. Bucky scoffs and snatches it from your teeth.

“I swear to all fuck, how you got them fooled is beyond me. Fuckin’ Planet Terror, then shaking the goddamn Monopoly board, and then teaching fuckin’ kids how to tie--” he throws the stem back in your face, “and then ice cream at midnight.”

“Hey! They had fun!” You cry, dodging him.

“They threw up!”

You cackle, because they did all throw up, and it was really funny. Bucky groans and rolls his eyes because you would absolutely be the worst mother. Your kids would grow up in the most chaotic household. But, he thinks, they’d be loved. So maybe you wouldn’t be the worst. You also had them help you clean up the house and were firm with them when they didn’t want to. Bucky feels a smile grow on his face. Maybe you are good with children.

“You’re pretty responsible, Buck. You think you’ll ever have kids?”

It’s a quiet question. Suddenly your demeanor is sullen as you turn to gaze out the window, peering at the full moon and he knows where your mind has wandered to.

Clint has something the rest of you can only dream about. You might crack jokes about being terrible with children, but it’s no secret that domesticity is something you long for. A baked apple pie in the windowsill, running under summer sprinklers, hanging the sheets up to dry, dancing through the living room barefoot, kind of life.

There are mobiles of stars and paper airplanes in your dreams, swaddling cloth with giraffes and moons. Gerber Baby food jars and baby-proofed corners. There are nights when you think about what the gene experiments did to your body and all you can do is stare silently.

The irony of you being so good with children is not lost on him.

A warm hand clamps itself over yours. Bucky links his flesh fingers through your smaller ones, holds onto the wheel with his metal hand.

“Nah.” Bucky says, “My favorite thing to do with kids is give ‘em back.”

A short laugh escapes as you grip his hand tighter, letting the moment pass on by like it always does. Usually you ride the wave on your own, crash on your own, and awaken the next morning in disarray on your own. But this time, his warm hand is holding you steady as the pain crests and ebbs away.

“Hey.” You say, rubbing your thumb over his in a surprising show of affection. Bucky feels his heart pick up a faster beat as you worry your lip with your teeth. Then, because you’re always full of surprises, you stick your tongue out where the cherry stem has collected another knot. “Check it out.”

He laughs, a deep, rumbling, genuinely joyful sound as he squeezes your hand. “You’ll have to teach me that some time.” He jokes-- anything to keep you from looking so sad.

Your lashes flutter as you blink slowly in contemplation. Bucky’s heart picks up again when you turn to him and shyly say, “If you pull over, I can teach you right now.”

[impala-dreamer]

Midnight Movie Marathon

SPN FanFic

~Dean finally gets some time alone to kick back in his mancave and watch his favorite movies on the tube, only, he comes to find... he's not actually alone...~

Dean x Reader

3,295 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Teensy bit of Dom!Dean, but not really. Awkward, Blushy!Dean. Multiple, Wet Orgasms. Oral. Doggy. Loads of... ahem... cum. Enjoy!

Feedback is Gold ~ My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon

Dean smiled proudly as he looked down at his creation. 

The bread was crisp, the lettuce shredded to perfection, just a hint of tomato, and turkey for days. Sam would have rolled his eyes at the good three inches of sliced turkey and deli Swiss cheese that towered inside his sandwich, but Sammy wasn’t there. 

Dean was alone for once. The Bunker was empty. He was happy. He was gonna sit in his man cave, eat his impossibly perfect sandwich, drink some beer, and watch the Back to the Future marathon on TBS. 

Just so he didn’t have to get up for a while, Dean tucked four beers under his left arm and a fresh bag of chips under the other. He was prepared. 

He was not, however, prepared to find that he was not alone, and that his Fortress of Deanitude had another occupant. 

Y/N was huddled underneath her fuzzy purple blanket, sitting in his favorite recliner. 

“Oh, hey, Dean,” she mumbled softly when he came in, jumping a bit as if he had startled her. 

“Hey,” he sighed back, realizing that his alone time was null and void. “Didn’t realize anyone else was around.”

Y/N bit her lip and scooted upwards a bit. Her knees dropped and the blanket shifted down from underneath her chin, exposing a bit of her plain white tee. She swallowed hard and took a breath. “Neither did I.” She smiled but found it hard to make eye contact. “Thought you were going out with Sam.”

Dean clicked his tongue and sat down on the couch across the way. Since the addition of more occupants to the Bunker, they’d added a few more seats, though the lazy boy on the right was still his favorite. “Was gonna say the same to you.” He set the sandwich down next to him and the chips by its side. 

“Nah, I… opted for some quiet time,” she said meekly.

Dean pursed his lips and shrugged. “Same.” Three of the beers lined up at his feet and he extended the fourth towards Y/N in offering. 

Her hands were still hidden beneath the blanket and she shook her head. “No thanks. I’m good.” 

“Cool.” 

The pair fell silent for a while and Dean cracked open a bottle. The television glowed as the channel came back from commercial and he grinned. 

“I didn’t miss it!” 

Y/N looked over with a smile. “Nope. Just started like five minutes ago.”

Dean took a sip of beer and sat back, spreading his knees as he got comfortable on the couch. “I didn’t know you liked these movies.”

“How dare you,” Y/N gasped in mock disgust. “Why don’t you make like a tree and get out of here?”

Dean laughed at her quote, nearly spitting beer back into the bottle. “OK, OK,” he chuckled, “my apologies.”  

Y/N nodded and then looked away, snuggling back down underneath her blanket. Dean turned his attention to the screen as well and popped open the bag of Lays. 

The movie was comforting and familiar, and they both watched quietly, occasionally laughing over Dean’s crunching. Y/N had gone utterly silent, her knees back up, the blanket tented over her. 

It was an odd way to sit, but Dean only eyed her vaguely as he picked up his sandwich, turning it around to find the perfect place to sink his teeth. Just as he spied the spot, Y/N took a heavy breath that caught his attention. His eyes floated over to her and she stretched backwards in slow motion, her eyes fluttering shut as her tongue darted out to cover her bottom lip.

Dean stared for a moment, wondering if he was just imagining things, but Y/N’s shoulders shuddered so violently for a moment that he was sure he wasn’t wrong. 

The sandwich hung in limbo before his lips. His jaw dropped but caught no food. His eyes grew huge with curiosity, and a bit of lettuce cascaded down into his lap like tinker tape at a parade. 

“Uh, Y/N?” 

She startled and sat up a bit, her cheeks flushing as she turned her face to his. “What’s up?” Her voice cracked and her lips shook. 

“I was gonna ask you that,” he said slowly, his eyes sliding down the plush blanket. “You OK over there?” 

The smirk was beginning to light his lips, but Y/N bit her lip and turned back to the movie. “I’m fine.”

“Uh huh…”

Her head snapped back. “What do you mean, ‘uh huh’?”

Dean carefully placed his sandwich back on the plate in his lap and licked a bit of mayo from his middle finger. “I know what you’re doing over there.”

Her eyes widened slightly as she tried to retain her attitude. “I’m watching a movie.” 

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

Dean leaned in, not caring that his sandwich was crushed momentarily. “You’re clickin’ the mouse, aren’tcha?” 

Y/N’s jaw dropped and she stammered to find a reply. “That’s… what! Who… you’re...no. Ew.”

Dean nodded, a knowing smile polishing his lips. “Oh, yes you are. I know that face. You’re petting the cat.” She scoffed. “You’re dialing the rotary phone.” She gagged. “You’re choking the hot dog…”

“OK!” Y/N hollered, sitting up fully and ripping a hand out from under the blanket to wag at him. “First of all, I don’t have a hot dog to choke, as you’re well aware. Secondly… you’re disgusting.” 

Dean licked his lips and zoned in on her scolding digit that was clearly shining with wetness. “Am I? I’m not the one rubbing one out to Back to the Future.”

Y/N huffed. “I’m not ru- I wasn’t… You’re not supposed to be here!”

“This is my room!” Dean laughed, sitting back in amazement. 

“It’s a common area!”

“You’re even in my chair!” 

“You want me to leave? Fine!” Y/N stood up in a huff, kicking the foot of the recliner down hard with her heels and letting the blanket fall away. Beneath it, she was half naked, pale gray cotton panties peeking out from under her shirt hem. And from what Dean could see… they were soaked. 

His gaze fell to the darkened cotton and his mouth watered. “H-how long you been in here?” he said with a gulp. 

She followed his stare down to her thighs and clenched them together, quickly picking up the blanket to cover herself. “I… well… you weren’t supposed to be here,” she said again, a slight whimper in her voice. 

His lip was mysteriously snagged between his teeth, pulled there by some magical force. It popped out slowly as he looked up at her. “I can go,” he said softly, voice just as strained as hers. “Or…”

Y/N backed up slowly and let the blanket fall down a bit, exposing the tops of her thighs again. “Or?”

Dean let out a heated breath and went for it. “Or you could...keep going.” The smirk was on his lips but not in his voice; it wavered a bit at the end, unsure how she’d react. 

“Oh…” She let out a breath and chewed her cheek as she moved back to the chair. There was a rhythm to her movements now, a look in her eye that made Dean relax and throb at the same time. “And what are you going to do?” Y/N asked softly, her lips curling around each word as her eyes narrowed upon him. “Watch?”

An enormous lump lodged itself in Dean’s throat and he coughed around it, unable to breathe for a long second. “Uh…yeah,” he finally confirmed, doing his best to control the color of his cheeks but failing miserably. 

Y/N smiled at the bright pink of his face and flicked her wrist, sending the blanket billowing down to the floor like a parachute. “What would you like to see, Dean?” she teased, lifting her fingers to the bottom hem of her shirt. 

His eyes fell to her thighs as she curled the fabric around her fingers slowly. “Th-that would be nice…”

She laughed sweetly. “Maybe this?” The shirt rose a little higher and Dean gasped at the sight of her panties in full. Wet, thin, perfect. 

“Yeah. That.” 

“These?” 

Her nipples were hard, breasts full and delicious as they fell free of the shirt. Y/N pulled it fully away and threw it at him. 

“Oh, those too,” he drooled, barely lifting his hands to catch the shirt as it smacked him in the face. 

Hooking her thumbs in the elastic of her panties, Y/N wiggled her hips a bit, daring him to ask to see more. 

Dean stopped her. 

“Leave them on,” he whispered, leaning forward, gaze still transfixed by the dark gray cotton. 

Y/N blushed and nodded. "OK...” Her hands fell to hang by her sides, patiently waiting.

When she didn't move for a while, Dean took a giant leap, sucked in a deep breath and said firmly, "Get back on the chair."

Y/N sighed deeply and smiled. 

Dean watched in happy amazement as Y/N backed up to the recliner and sat down, never once taking her eyes off of him. They'd fooled around a few times, but it was always Trench Love, this was something else, something…

"Awesome," he whispered under his breath, mind frantic to catch up with reality. As Y/N waited, he cleared his throat and pressed on. "Turn towards me and spread your legs. Hook one over the side."

Y/N immediately moved, gracefully shifting in the cushioned chair and spreading her legs wide. Dean leaned his elbows on his knees and took in the sight, his jeans growing tighter by the second. 

"What now...Sir?" Y/N teased, slowly testing out the word, watching carefully as Dean's emerald eyes ran the course of understanding. She'd always wondered about him…

He sat back and slung one arm casually over the back of the couch. "Show me what made those panties so wet." He hit the T hard and he swore it made her shiver just a tiny bit.

Y/N bit her lip as she complied, slowly lifting her hands to paw at her tits. They fit so perfectly in her hands, fingers digging into the soft flesh of each globe. Her eyes rolled when she tugged hard on her nipples and Dean had to readjust his seat.

"That's nice, Y/N," he said, voice smooth and deep. "But that's not what you were doing when I walked in here."

She licked her lips and lifted a sexy eyebrow, making sure to take her time. She dragged her hand slowly down her bare tummy, nails scratching gently, and turned her fingers downwards to lay against her panties. 

Dean watched on as she pushed at the crotch of the wet cotton, shoulders trembling as the cool cloth rubbed her flesh. She let her eyes fall closed as she rocked her hips steadily up against her hand, fingers teasing her hole as her clit met the heel of her hand.

She moaned softly.

"That's it," Dean growled. "That's the face you were making when I got here."

His voice made her legs tense and the soft flesh of her inner thighs shook temptingly, but Dean held firm. 

"Feel good?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "Feels so good…" Her back arched off the side of the chair and her toes curled under.

Dean's right hand slid to his thigh, thick thumb teasing the line of his erection through the denim as he stared. "You're not gonna cum, are you?"

Her voice was as shaky as her legs. "I...I...fuck."

Dean chewed his lip and let it pop out slowly as his hand moved over another inch. "How 'bout you slip those fingers underneath?" 

Y/N sighed in relief and then mewed as her hand touched skin, fingers dipping into the slick heat of her hungry cunt. "Fuck! So wet. Oh my God, Dean."

He palmed his dick, pushing down hard and rolling his hips. "Nice and tight, baby?"

The gravel in his words made her melt. "Yeah," she gasped, pumping her fingers roughly. "So tight. Fuck!"

He watched her hand move beneath the gray, the speed increasing as her breath caught in her throat. She was ready to pop. He curled his hand around his dick and swallowed the mess of drool in his mouth.

"Go ahead, Y/N," he said gently. "Cum nice and hard for me."

She let out a cry through clenched teeth and Dean's jaw hung as her body shook. The dark patch of gray grew wider and Y/N seemed to settle, but her hand kept going.

"Dean," she whimpered. "I need…I…" Her head lifted and she met his gaze with pleading eyes. 

His bottom lip quivered. "What, baby, tell me what you need."

She growled in frustration and rubbed at her swollen clit, wet fingers sliding easily. "Need to cum again. Fuck!" Her legs closed inwards and her entire body pulsed with pleasure. 

"Do it!" He tried to keep the enthusiasm at a minimum but to hell with looking cool. This was hot as fuck. 

"Gahh!" Y/N shouted as she came again and a stream of wetness soaked through her panties and dribbled onto the floor. 

Dean lost his mind. "Fuck. Did you just?"

Y/N whined desperately. "Yeah…" She twisted on the chair and kept rubbing. "Need...more. Shit."

"F-fuck. Do it." He pushed up against his hand and moaned, his cock painfully full. "Let me see."

Y/N wiggled around, struggling to peel the soaked cotton from her body, nearly falling off of the chair in the process. 

"Don't hurt yourself, Y/N…"

"Shut up, Dean!" Back in place, she opened her knees wide and spread her pussy lips with two fingers, moaning as the cool air hit her. 

"Fuck, you're a mess." He gave in, opening his belt. Her cunt was glistening, dripping, calling to him, but he kept his seat.

"Dean," she breathed, chest heaving as she shoved three fingers deep inside.

"I'm here, baby," he assured, yanking leather from metal.

"Dean…" Her body locked tight as she frantically fucked her pussy, fingers curling deep. 

"Do it!" He popped his button.

"Fuck!" Toes and shoulders curled inwards as she came, squirting like a fountain, cum splashing down onto the floor in a little puddle of release. 

Dean moaned loudly and ripped his zipper down. "Shit!"

Y/N didn't stop. She pumped even faster, other hand slapping at her aching clit until the tension crested again. "Dean!" His name echoed and the stream was heavy, spilling down into her cupped hand and flooding down her ass onto the chair. 

Still, she kept going. "Can't...can't stop!" she cried, left hand clawing at her tits as she rubbed her dripping cunt. 

Dean couldn't wait any longer, couldn't sit back and jerk off while such a beautiful pussy was in need.

He tried to stand but his knees were weak, so he crawled, hands and knees carrying him to her in a daze. His mouth was watering, his ears ringing. 

Y/N gasped when his lips hit her clit, sucking fast and hard as her taste flooded his mouth. He moaned happily and devoured her, licking up her mess before shoving his big tongue into her pulsing hole. 

"Fuck, Dean!" She let go, moving her dripping fingers to his head, spiking his short hair with the wetness. 

He mumbled into her pussy, greedily lapping at her flesh, desperate to feel the surge against his face. 

It didn’t take long. 

He lifted his eyes as he replaced his tongue with two thick fingers and watched as she broke, her body flailing as she came again. It shot out of her in a hot stream as her cunt tried to push his fingers out, and he closed his mouth around her, drinking it all down. 

Her hand dropped from his hair and tugged on his ear, trying to pull him up. Reluctantly, Dean pulled away and rose up to meet her hazy gaze. 

Y/N sat up and lunged at him, kissing him hard and moaning at the taste of herself on his lips. “Fuck.” 

“Agreed,” he laughed when she slid away. 

She looked drunk, head wobbling on her neck, face flushed, lips ruddy from her teeth. She reached down between their bodies and slid her fingertips into his already open jeans, groaning as she felt his hard cock. “Need it, Dean,” she begged. “Need to cum on your cock. Please. Please!”

“Fuck, baby.” Dean’s heart was racing as he backed up for a quick pause, just long enough to drop his pants. He was hard as a rock and he fisted the base, growling at the pressure. 

Y/N wasn’t waiting much longer. She stood up when Dean did and flipped over onto her stomach, bending herself over the arm of the recliner. She wiggled her ass for him, spreading her legs as wide as she could and presented her leaking cunt for him. 

“Need you,” she begged again, arms stretching across the chair to hold on to the other side. 

Dean bit his tongue and grabbed her ass, gently kneading the meaty flesh as he lined up. 

“Please!” Y/N pushed back and impaled herself, moaning loudly as his cock filled her up. 

He slid right in, Dean’s knees shaking at the slick heat that engulfed him. She was tight and wet and hot; his mind couldn’t take it. 

“Damnit, Y/N, fuck!” He gave her ass a hard crack with his left hand and held onto her hip with his right. 

“Hard, please…” she moaned, her face falling into the cushions, muffling her voice. “Fuck me hard.”

“You got it.” The hand on her ass migrated up, tangling in her hair and giving it a firm tug. Her head snapped up and back and her moan was enough to get Dean moving fast. His thighs slammed against her, his cock ramming into her juicy cunt again and again until her voice rang loud. 

“Jesus, fuck!” 

He felt her cumming, cunt closing in on him, resisting his thrusts as it tightened. He slammed in hard and she came, the flood soaking his cock, running like a river down his thick thighs. He couldn’t breathe. “Fuck, Y/N!”

She shook against him, body weak and finally spent. He let her hair go and her head lolled back down, a pull toy whose string was too slack. 

Dean locked his hands around her hips and grunted as he came, shooting into her slick cunt so quickly that a wave of dizziness stuck him and he fell forward, covering her naked spine with his soft flanneled chest. 

Y/N sucked in a refreshing breath and gave his head a nudge with her shoulder. “Kinda crushing me, dude…”

He laughed and pushed up, wiping a bit of shine off of his cheek. “Holy shit, Y/N/N…”

She moaned as he pulled out and another shower drenched her thighs. “Uh… yeah.” 

Dean staggered backwards, nearly tripping over the jeans hooked on his boots. “That was…”

Y/N stretched and smiled. “Yeah.”

He looked down, eyes still clouded, lips turned in a dumbstruck smile. “I like you,” he slurred. 

Y/N laughed and patted his cheek. “I like you too,” she said, smiling up at him sweetly. “Now go get a mop. You made a mess.” 

“Me?” Dean gasped, clutching imaginary pearls. 

“Well, it wasn’t Marty McFly!” 

Dean raised his brows and dipped his chin. “Come on, it was a little bit Marty McFly…”

Y/N shrugged him off but laughed over her shoulder as she turned away to grab her panties. “Yeah… maybe a little…”

2019 Forever Tags:

@akshi8278 @amanda-teaches @arses21434 @because-imma-lady-assface @burningcoffeetimetravel @colagirl5 @cosicas-cuquis @cosmicfire72 @courtney-elizabeth-winchester @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @dean-winchesters-bacon @deansenwackles @deansgirl215 @dubuforeveralone @emilyshurley @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @eternal-elir @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @gayspacenerd @herbologystudent252 @hobby27 @ilsawasanacrobat @justcallmeasmodeus​ @katymacsupernatural @lastactiontricia @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @our-jensen-ackles-love  @peridot-rose @pisces-cutie @risingphoenix761 @roonyxx @roxyspearing @sandlee44 @shadowkat-83 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnficgirl  @supernaturaldean67 @supernatural-took-me-over @thehardcoveraddict @tmiships4life @wegoddessofhell @winchesterprincessbride

[hallospaceboyy]

Cute idea: The reader and Mary adopting a rescue dog❤️

Merlin

This is just a little drabble really, but this idea is SOFT as heck. Picture not mine, went with it cause of her lil dog print blouse lol 🖤

You and Mary had been juggling the idea of getting a pet for a while. Of course, with Mary's good nature, it had to be a rescue, and you agreed. Mary had saved you, kept you afloat every day, and you know that she can do the same for a poor, unwanted animal. Mary just had that air about her, she's always jovial, and it's infectious, and she has that caring nature about her, she's happiest when she’s needed, has someone to care for.

Which is why you now both kneel on the floor in the living room of the cottage, with a dopey, affectionate black Labrador laying on his back, stomach on full display between you. He's five years old, which is perfect for the both of you, way past the puppy stage, a little more relaxed, but being a Labrador, still very much playful and affectionate. He had already been named – Merlin, and you had both fallen in love with him instantly, both met his eyes at the same moment, and were enraptured at the very first wag of his tail.

Mary is laughing, rubbing the dog's tummy and he releases a growl of contentment. You had only had him for two days, but it didn’t take you long to learn that he was very vocal, not one for barking incessantly, but if you speak to him, he growls and huffs in response, and low rumbling noises bubble up from deep in his abdomen when he's strokes in the right places. It had caused Mary to jump and shy away the first time he'd done it, but you soon reassured her, and so did he. It was like he could sense her nerves, and would lick at her hand, making her smile wide.

Mary had insisted that Merlin would not be allowed on the furniture, but within the first night, Merlin was up on the sofa, his head resting in Mary's lap. The woman is just too soft to deny him anything, melted at a single look from his large brown eyes.

“He's just perfect, isn’t he?” She grins, and her eyes are sparkling behind her thick framed glasses as she looks up at you.

“He is the most perfect little puppy.” You reply in a high, baby voice, scratching behind his floppy ear, and Mary giggles. “I love my little family.” You smile and lean to peck Mary's lips softly.

“He already knows some tricks you know.” Mary clicks her fingers, and Merlin rolls over and leaps to his feet. “Merlin, sit.” She says firmly, and he does, and you clap your hands, grinning. “Wait, wait, and this too.” Mary holds out a slender hand. “Paw.” The dog places his paw onto Mary's hand, and she shakes it gently, giggling. “Good boy!” Merlin's tail wags with pride, and Mary leans forward and kisses his nose.

“You’re precious.” Grinning, you wrap an arm around Mary's waist, and she leans into you.

“I’ve never had a pet before.” She mumbles, and you look at her with wide eyes.

“Really?? You’re so good with him!”

Mary shrugs, petting Merlin's head as he rests it in her lap. “I can just see that he's kind. He has kind eyes. Like you.” Mary rises from the floor, and pulls you up with her, and you both collapse on the sofa. Mary's legs swing round to rest in your lap, and you squeeze her thighs, kneading them with your palms.

“Well, you’re an excellent judge of character.”

Mary hums, smiling contently. “Come on, lets take our good boy for a walk. He needs tiring out.” Merlin leaps up at the word walk, and you both laugh. His tail whips from side to side as Mary grabs his lead from where it hangs by the door.

[averykedavra]

Leave No Trace (Chap. 19)

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

The bedframe creaked around Patton and he opened one eye, finding it sticky and reluctant to focus. He opened his other one and tried to shift around to find his glasses. Something warm and heavy kept him in place. He blinked at the lump securing him to the bed. Virgil. His bangs were fluttering with every breath and his sweatshirt was bunched around his elbows.

The bed shifted again and someone hit the stone with a gentle thud. Patton swatted around wildly for his glasses.

"Go to sleep, Patton."

That was Logan's voice.

"Logan?" Patton asked anyway, because confirmation was important. "Whatcha doing?"

"Be quiet," Logan hissed, apparently having slipped out of bed. "Go back to sleep or you'll wake Remus—"

A loud "What?" followed his sentence, and Patton was reminded of Remus' uncanny ability to tell when people were talking to him.

Patton looked around more and finally found his glasses. He put them on just as Remus took a flying leap off the bunk bed, landing somewhat gracefully and straightening up to give Logan a glare.

"Where are you going?" Remus asked, though he sounded like he already knew the answer.

Logan rolled his eyes. "I don't have time for this."

"C'mon, nerd, we agreed." Remus folded his arms. "My shift today. Go back to sleep, you look like a corpse."

"You're not exactly the pinnacle of beauty yourself," Logan snapped back. "Stay with Patton and Virgil—they'll need someone to help them out this morning. I promise I'll be back soon."

"Yeah, that means jack-all and you know it! You'll probably be busy 'til next sunrise." Remus waved a hand at Patton, who was still trying to figure out what was happening and whether he should intervene. "Plus, you're the best at lovey-dovey friendship stuff, and the schedule says it's my turn, so get back in that bunk bed before I rip your toes off and shove them down your throat."

Logan didn't even cringe at the image. Patton did. "I'm going," Logan simply said, walking away. "If there's an emergency, I'll probably be down near Anton's room. Show Patton and Virgil around, get a few hours of sleep for goodness' sake, and I'll try to make it back for lunch as long as there isn't too much blood this time."

"Specs, get back here—it's my turn!"

"I'm overruling you!" Logan grabbed a few miscellaneous instruments by the side of the wall. "Besides, you took an extra day for me!"

"Yeah, 'cause you twisted your ankle, remember? In case it slipped past your eyeballs, I'm fine!"

"Be fine in bed and not working, then." Logan's expression softened for just a second. "Please. I—I'm not quite sure what to do right now, with Patton and Virgil and everything else, so please let me help you here."

Remus sighed and swore, which Logan seemed to take as reluctant agreement. Logan smiled and waved before disappearing into the darkness. Patton noticed he was almost silent on the stones, just like a dragon—Logan had never been extremely loud, but now he was whisper-quiet, a flash of movement and a twist of shadows and then gone.

Remus swore again, shrugged, and took the ladder two at a time. There was a loud groan of protest from the bed as he flopped onto it. His feet dangled over the side, and from his occasional mutterings, Patton knew that he hadn't taken Logan's advice and gone to sleep.

Patton bit his lip and looked down at Virgil, still latched onto Patton like a barnacle, the little cuddler. Slowly, he eased his way out of Virgil's grip. Virgil muttered and shifted in his sleep, but he didn't look too distressed, and hopefully this would be quick.

Patton walked over to the ladder, cringing when he noticed a stain that he hoped was jam and not blood. Remus was lying on the bunk bed, staring at the ceiling.

"Hi," Patton said softly.

"Hmm?" Remus sat upright, clocked his head on the ceiling, and grinned as if it hadn't hurt at all. "Crabby Patty! How're you doing?"

"I'm alright," Patton said, his stomach twisting a little when he remembered that the last time they'd talked, Patton had started sobbing into Virgil's shoulder. And the time before that…under the Liberty Tree, the town burning around them, wondering where Roman was.

"Anything you need?" Remus looked around. "I dunno what time it is? Probably early morning. Thanks to you guys, the whole night got mussed up for all the dragons. You should sleep."

"So should you," Patton chided. "Logan's right—you should catch another few hours."

"Eh, what does he know? I'm not that tired." Remus paused. "Oh. Wait. You heard us?"

"Hard to miss." Patton shifted from foot to foot, considering his options. "Um…can I come up there?"

"Sure!" Remus said easily, shifting to the side. Patton wobbled his way to the top of the ladder, feeling pretty unstable, like the whole thing might collapse underneath him. Remus must have noticed his worried expression, because he scoffed and said "This thing's not as weak as it seems. I jumped on it for like three hours in a row and it held up."

Mildly assuaged, Patton made his way to the top and curled up by the foot of the bed. Stalactites scraped his shoulders. He reached out and touched one—wet, cold stone, gray and rough in his hands.

"So," Remus said, making a few popping noises and dangling one leg over the side. "What's updog, hot dog?"

"Not much," Patton said. From his vantage point, he could see the whole cavern. There wasn't much of it. A few books were stacked against the wall, all of them stained. A tarnished sword with no sheath was balanced by the entranceway. Someone's underwear was tossed around a stalagmite and someone else had left old chicken bones in a small puddle of what Patton really hoped wasn't acid.

"'S not much," Remus said, following Patton's gaze. "But it's not bad. Bigger than the room I had with Roman. And Specs keeps his stuff out of the way—well, the stuff he has."

"He left," Patton said, turning to Remus.

"It's nothing personal," Remus said. Patton flinched, but Remus didn't seem to notice. "We've both got work to do. He's breaking the schedule, though, the stupid nipple-sucker."

"The schedule?" Patton asked, choosing to ignore the final bit of that sentence.

"I gotta admit it means zilch." Remus settled into his end of the bed even more. "We try to alternate who does more work on which days, except usually we both end up getting roped into it, so it's really just for show. Still." Remus looked annoyed again. "The butt's all about rules and I get nervous when he's not here."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Patton reassured Remus, except it was a complete and total lie.

"Yeah," Remus muttered, unconvinced.

"What do you guys do?" Patton asked, tucking his head between his knees.

"Loads of stuff!" Remus perked up. "Sometimes we clean up blood! And dead stuff!"

Patton jerked back, eyes wide in horror.

"But not usually," Remus amended. "We distribute food sometimes? Patrol some of the hallways, clean up any dead animals—or dead dragons—and basically do whatever they ask. Keiran lost their sweater the other day and we spent five hours trying to find it."

Patton bit his lip. "Dead dragons?"

"Yeah." Remus looked almost regretful, which was weird, because usually he loved talking about dead things. "Hierarchy stuff. They're at each other's throats half the time. I think the last one was Amila? She got sick, and it turned out she'd stolen someone else's stuff, and the next thing anyone knew—" Remus slammed one hand into the other. "Huge mess. Logan threw up. There are scuffles all the time. Mara's in charge right now, and Emile's her second, but that might change by noon if she slips up. They've got this whole 'cut off sick branches to protect the tree' thing. If you're not helpful, if you're weak, they're not gonna keep you around."

Patton swallowed once, twice, three times. The lump in his throat didn't go away. "Um—so—who else is here? Do you guys know any dragons?"

"We've got a pretty good understanding, yeah." Remus held up some fingers. "There's Natasha—Esmerelda—Jacob—Zakarias—Olympia—Lee, then Hermes—Na'Jai—Catelyn—Alyssa—Anton—Remy—Toby, Emile, Estella, Pryce, Karis, Vanessa, Ozzy, Madeleine, Jay, Lilyanne, Kota, Hal, Percy, and…" Remus shrugged. "And the Js—the little kids. Don't remember their names 'cause they're not that important. I think one of them is an Isabelle."

"Huh." Patton raised his eyebrows. "That's really neat, kiddo! Good memory!"

"Well, we gotta remember, right?" Remus shrugged. "I think Lee, Catelyn, Pryce and Madeleine are allies right now, but Jacob had a fight with Percy, and Percy and Pryce owe each other after a scuffle with Kota, so Jacob's up against them but he's got Vanessa and Anton and Karis—no, wait, Karis traded dinner for a week of favors with Na'Jai and Natasha, so Karis is on their side—and of course Olympia and Hal have hated each other for years, and everyone hates Estella and Estella hates everyone, and everyone kind of hates Emile because Mara likes him, even though Emile's a nice guy. Well, Remy likes Emile alright, I think. It's hard to tell with Remy."

Patton's eyebrows rose even higher. "Wow!"

"Like I said, we gotta remember." Remus rubbed at his arm. "Kiss up to the wrong dude and it'll be our guts we'll have to clean up."

Patton shivered.

"It's fine, though," Remus said, sounding like it wasn't really that fine. "Lo and I look out for each other. And it hasn't gotten too bad so far—just a few bumps and bruises. Some of them are even pretty nice."

"That sounds really terrible," Patton admitted.

"Not like we've got a choice." Remus bit his lip. "I thought it'd be worse, honestly."

"Still, I'm…sorry." Patton stared at his lap. "I'm sorry we couldn't have helped, I'm sorry our rescue mission was a complete disaster, and I'm sorry we let you get kidnapped."

"You didn't let us!" Remus snorted. "I am very awesome, very sexy, and loved by all! Of course they wanted me! So if you'd tried to help, it could have been you here instead!"

"It is now," Patton pointed out. "Because I did try."

"You did, and…thanks. I—that was cool of you." Remus flashed a brief smile at Patton. "It's the thought that counts."

"Doubtful," Patton said.

"Anyway." Remus waved his arms around at the cave. "Casa de Remus and the lame-o nerd. We've made it this far, so I think we'll be alright."

"From personal experience," Patton said sheepishly, "that's not how this works."

"Whatever!" Remus declared. "We're here now, life is oh-so-wonderful, and if anyone lays a hand on Logan, I'll punch them so hard their insides become outsides!"

Patton resisted the urge to say ew. Instead, he smiled. "Logan's lucky to have you."

"I—er—yeah." Remus flushed and scratched at the back of his neck. "Sure. Gotta look out for the dork, right? He's brainy but not the best fighter."

"I'm sure he's looking out for you, too." Patton glanced at the archway. "It sounds like he is in more ways than one, if he's taking your shift."

"Yeah, he's…he's nice. Protective." Remus laughed to himself. "Estella grabbed my shoulder and Logan flipped out at her. It was kind of awesome."

"Really?" Patton leaned forward. "What happened?"

"See, I was being my awesome self," Remus began, his eyes sparkling with the delight of telling a story. "And I'm so awesome that everyone wants a piece of this booty, y'know? And Logan was there too I guess. And since Estella had decided that the person she hated that day was Hermes, she basically went out of her way to be a real pain-in-the-butthole to him at all times. And he'd told us to find something he'd lost, which Ozzy ended up having because of course he did, and Estella basically tried to force us into helping her instead!" Remus laughed a bit. "And she's intimidating. She's no Mara, but she gets the blood pumping! Except Hermes would be pissed out of his balls if we just dropped the ball on finding his stuff, so we were trying to shake her off all polite except I'm not good at being polite so I might have called her a stuck-up spleen-smelling cowbagger."

Patton blinked a few times. "I thought Estella was intimidating."

"She is! But I don't really think before I spit stuff out." Remus shrugged sheepishly. "I thought she'd take it as a compliment? Like she seriously has to be trying to be such a jerk, right? But no, she got all huffy and narrow-eyed and said she was gonna tear my bones apart at the joints—great threat, by the way, I used it later when Logan stole my socks—and she grabbed my shoulder and squeezed really hard and Logan jumped over and wrenched her hand off me and said she was being ridiculous and she couldn't hope to ever accomplish anything with that kind of hair-string temper and if she touched me again he'd make sure he never helped her as long as she lived." Remus' face was now sporting a loopy grin. "It was awesome."

"It sounds like it," Patton agreed, smiling at how excited Remus seemed. "Then what happened?"

The grin fell off Remus' face. "She kicked him into a wall."

"What?"

"Yeah." Remus sucked in a breath. "Not fun."

Patton curled a little tighter on the bed. "That's horrible."

"So I've heard." Remus looked down at his feet. "I…I should go to bed. Unless you've got any other questions?"

"Um—" Patton did have one, in fact, but he was afraid of the answer. "Do…do you any dragons named Janus?"

"Janus," Remus repeated. "The one who helped you guys? Yellow boy?"

"Yeah," Patton almost sighed. "Him."

"I've never met him, duh, but I think I've heard of him?" Remus scrunched his face up. "Eenie meeny miney more, where've I heard that name before? I think some dragons were talking about him on our first or second day! I don't remember much—Specs and I spent most of the day freaking out in our own special ways, me trying to stab the walls and him getting through seventeen hundred digits of pi—but I think it was Janus they were talking about. It could've been someone else, but they were mentioning that he'd gone missing, so I think it's the right dude."

"What did they say?" Patton asked. He probably looked ridiculously invested, but he didn't care. "How…how did they sound?"

"Bored." Remus gave Patton an almost pitying look. "Don't think they gave much of a crap, Patty Wanna Cracker. Like I said. You're weak, you're out. And nobody cares much about any of the Js. I think maybe Anton and Alyssa were arguing over who got his cave. After that? Nothing. They probably forgot about him altogether."

"Oh," Patton said softly. Janus had said that nobody would care if he was gone, and Remy had certainly seemed less than overjoyed to see Janus back, but it hadn't really hit him until now. That just seemed wrong. Janus was a lot of things, but forgettable wasn't one of them. He'd managed to make such a lasting impact on Patton in just a week. And yet the dragons he'd lived with his whole life only cared about who got his room.

Fire burned in Patton's chest. That was wrong. That was mean. Janus deserved better—

Even though Janus had clearly chosen their side anyway.

The fire sputtered weakly and went out, leaving Patton cold again. Cold and alone, surrounded by dark hallways, no escape in sight.

"Hey," Remus said almost softly, "for what it's worth, that's sucky, what happened. Sounds like he's a dipwad and doesn't know what he's missing. And…it sounds like he didn't have much of a choice—I totally get not wanting to get on anyone's bad side. I'd risk it for Logan, but not all of us are as brave and awesome and maybe a little stupid as I am."

Patton's hands curled in his lap. "I would have done it for him."

Remus was silent.

"I did. And he did." Patton almost laughed. "He made a deal with a Fae for us. He caught us falling off a cliff. He dove in to save me in the lake—well, Virgil pushed him, but he grabbed me anyway. And he went back for me on the bridge, and he told me I wasn't a bad person, and he didn't ask me questions when I didn't want them, and—" Patton took a shuddering breath. "He risked his life for us. So—so why's this different? Because this was what he wanted all along? Because he wanted to save us so he could rub his revenge in our faces?"

Remus paused and shook his head. "Doubt it. I mean, I don't know the guy personally, but you don't get attached to complete a-holes, Patty. You're smarter than that. So…I think he just panicked. He was scared and he didn't want to get hurt, so he through you under the bus. I don't respect that, but I get it."

"What makes now different, though?" Patton looked up at Remus, searching his face, fumbling for answers. "We've made it through a million things together. Why'd he turn on us now?"

"The way I see it," Remus said slowly, "there are three options. One, he just wanted variety. It's the spice of life and all that, and doing the same thing over and over is pretty boring, so maybe he wanted to add in some juicy stuff. But unfortunately not everyone thinks like me, so—option two. You're right and he was just waiting to betray you. Or option three—like I said, he was scared." Remus looked intently at Patton. "Risking your life is one thing. Especially when saving your friend means saving your own hide, too, that's easy stuff. It's a lot harder to risk abandonment. To turn against the people who raised you? That takes guts, and not everyone's got them, especially when the situation is this rough."

"He still had a choice," Patton pleaded.

"'Course he did. I'm not saying he didn't. I'm saying he probably thought he didn't." Remus leaned back and shrugged. "But hey, what do I know? Maybe he was secretly plotting your demise all along. I'm not an expert. I just work here."

"Did I…" Patton twisted his hands. "I feel like I could have—stopped this. Maybe if I just said the right thing, or helped at the right time…he'd have made a different choice."

"You can't live someone's life for them, Patisserie." Remus clicked his tongue. "He's got his own stuff and you've got yours, and it's all in the past anyways so who gives a flying fart? All you can do now is hang and do your best. If Janny wants to, he'll be back. And if he doesn't? Don't take it personally. Sometimes, people really just can't be helped."

Patton pressed his lips together.

"Come on, I think we both need some sleep." Remus kicked at Patton's knee gently. "Go cuddle with your bro, I'll be here if something starts bleeding."

Patton nodded and slipped back down the ladder. Virgil was still curled up on the bed, eyes closed. Patton wriggled his way back under the blanket and tucked his arm over Virgil. Usually, Virgil would have shifted. But he was stiff—stiff in the way of someone pretending to be asleep.

"You heard that," Patton said with a smile, "didn't you?"

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," Virgil said sheepishly, dropping the act.

"It's no problem." Patton snuggled in closer to Virgil. "Sorry for waking you up."

And that was it. Virgil didn't ask about Janus and Patton didn't tell. Patton could have felt guilty about that, but he didn't. He was sleepy and he really didn't want to think about it, and he didn't owe an explanation, and Virgil didn't push for one.

They'd figure it out later. For now, they had a few hours before sunrise.

 Breakfast was several bits of unidentified meat and some grass. Patton purposely kept away from the meat and chewed on some of the grass instead. It tasted like nothing except disgusting. It was a good thing his stomach was churning too much to eat, or he'd probably be starving.

After breakfast, Patton checked Virgil's head and they took inventory. The dragons had taken their knapsacks and Virgil's crossbow, which Virgil was clearly upset about. That left them with a grand total of some lint in Patton's pocket, a few leaves stuck in the underside of Virgil's hood, and the knickknacks Remus and Logan had stored in their cave.

Great.

Out of curiosity, Patton tiptoed over to the entrance. A few fires flickered further down and he spotted some more caves and tunnels, but the path twisted around and disappeared from view. Patton walked a little further out, glancing back to make sure the cave hadn't vanished. It was still there, glowing, with Remus and Virgil frowning at him.

Patton turned back around and squinted into the darkness. Maybe there was a map of this place? Or maybe he could get to the end if he stuck one hand on the side of the wall. No, that was for mazes. If he knew what direction he was facing, maybe he could try and find his way to the edge of the mountain. Or maybe not. Because from what he could see, the paths twisted so much he might just get turned around in circles.

He wished there was a path he could follow here—a place to step and a place to avoid.

He wished he had a plan.

Patton stepped a little further, trying not to slip on the wet rocks, steadying himself with one hand on the wall.

"What are you doing?"

Patton squeaked and scooted backwards, tripped over a rock, and fell on his butt. A dragon with a long braid tossed over their shoulder and flinty gray eyes watched him with no amusement.

"I was—" Patton waved a hand at himself, the tunnel, and the cave behind him. "Hi."

The dragon sighed and pointed behind Patton. "Get back inside."

Patton dutifully scooted back into the archway.

"Ugh." The dragon rolled their eyes and turned away. "Can't wait 'til you're doing something useful instead of getting underfoot."

Patton decided not to comment. He just stumbled to his feet and dashed back into the cave until he couldn't see outside the archway anymore. No dragons, no darkness, just Remus and Virgil looking at him with concern.

"You shouldn't have gone out there," Remus muttered, gnawing at the end of something Patton decided to believe was a chicken bone.

"I know that now." Patton sat at the foot of the bed. "You could have said something," he added, probably sounding petulant but finding he didn't care much.

Remus shrugged. "Didn't want to call attention to myself."

That was…new. Remus always wanted to call attention to himself.

"Besides, you learn by experience." Remus chucked the bone at a wall. "Where's the nerd?"

"I…" Patton frowned. "Am I supposed to know the answer?"

"Nah, just wanted to ask the world at large." Remus glanced at the archway. "He should be back by now."

"No? He shouldn't?" Virgil stared at Remus. "He said he'd be back by lunch!"

"I know." Remus shifted a few times, back and forth, before jumping to his feet. "I'm gonna go find him—"

"Wait, are you kidding?" Virgil's eyes widened. "You can't leave us here—where are you even going?"

"No idea!" Remus grinned and headed for the entrance. "Be back maybe!"

"Remus," Patton said softly. "I don't want you to leave."

Remus paused and Patton winced, waiting for a comment about how selfish he was being.

"I—" Remus looked back. "I'll wait. But if he doesn't show up, I'm going."

Patton smiled a little bit. And Remus walked back over, flopped on the bed, and started to hum a song Patton recognized as one of Roman's favorites.

They fell into silence. Virgil stared off into the distance, Patton watched the entrance, and Remus hummed his way through every song Patton knew and a few he didn't. As time passed, Patton noticed Remus getting antsier and antsier, sometimes trailing off mid-note and rubbing at his arms. He was going to say something, but before he did, Virgil did.

"We need to think of an escape plan," Virgil said.

Patton blinked a few times. "Um, sure! Any ideas?"

"No," Virgil admitted. "I hoped you had some."

"Alrighty, then." Patton straightened and motioned for Remus to join. "No time like the present! Remus, do you know your way around here?"

"Kind of?" Remus chewed on his lip. "We basically go wherever we need to, and they shepherd us back to our rooms if we get in the way. Plus Emile is pretty helpful, and he's around most of the time, so we can ask and he'll direct us."

"Emile?" Patton asked. "Do…do you think he'd be able to help?"

"Mara wouldn't let him. So no."

"Oh." Patton pouted and slumped against the bed. "Mara seems like—a real b-hole."

"Tell me about it," Remus agreed. "If you wanna escape, it's best to avoid her. Period, done, end of discussion."

"Hold on." Virgil frowned. "If we want to escape? You're coming with, Re."

Remus blinked a few times. "I…what?"

"You're coming too," Patton said, leaning forward. "Right? We came all this way to rescue—I mean, not that you're obligated to—I just figured—"

Remus blinked a few more times.

"Is that okay?" Patton ended up asking.

"You could get hurt," Remus blurted out. "You could get all your limbs chopped off or your eyeballs stuck in a cheese grater or your brain made into scrambled eggs and slurped up through a straw or—"

"First of all, ew. Second of all—I can't believe I'm the one saying this—unlikely." Virgil shrugged and gave Remus a crooked smile. "Look, we're trying to bust out of here no matter what. So tag along. Four heads are better than two."

"We'll be harder to hide," Remus warned.

Patton grinned. "Hiding isn't the plan."

A slow smile grew over Remus' face. "I'm listening."

"What's the plan?" Virgil asked.

"I don't know," Patton said, "but it won't include hiding, I guess? I don't know why you thought there was a plan. I'm not good with plans."

Virgil sighed. "Letdown. Well, I'm not good with plans either, and Re once swore to me that if he distracted the dude at the stand with a goat, I could steal one of the peaches—"

"Hey, it's not my fault goats are really hard to control—"

"—so we're basically doomed." Virgil waved a hand. "Got it. That's nothing new."

"We're not," Patton said weakly. "We're just…maybe we'll just have to improvise instead."

"Or find someone good with plans," Remus said.

"Logan's pretty smart." Virgil laughed. "And Janus'd probably get us out, but he'd complain the whole time, so—"

Virgil's voice trailed off.

"Except he's not an option," Virgil finally said, his voice dull. "So all we've got is L, I guess."

"Who's not back yet." Remus clenched his fists and swung them back and forth. "If he doesn't show up in the next ten seconds, I'm gonna go find him and drag him butt-first back here—"

"Yeah, he'll totally show up," Virgil said drily. "That's how the world works. Telekinesis by gay desperation." Virgil sighed. "He's not here yet, Re. Be patient."

"Patient is the exact opposite of my middle name—"

"How can you have an opposite of a name—"

Patton glanced to the arch again and broke into a wide grin.

"Guys!" he said. "Look!"

Virgil looked up and smiled. "Guess telekinesis was just delayed."

"Good to see you too," Logan said, slipping into the room with a weary smile.

Remus squealed and clapped his hands, jumping up and running over. He checked Logan up and down with narrowed eyes. "All parts intact?"

"Every limb accounted for." Logan gave Remus a fond, exasperated look. "Let me sit down, Remus, I haven't had breakfast yet."

"Right! Right!" Remus shepherded Logan to a spot on the floor and tossed him some chicken bones. "You alright? Thirsty? Sleepy? I'm really happy to see you!"

"I was gone for three hours."

"More like eternity!" Remus groaned and flopped dramatically on the ground like a jellyfish. "Stuck with only these losers for company—"

"Hey!" Virgil complained.

"—but now you're here! With all your limbs! So we're good." Remus yanked his neck up and watched Logan carefully. "So what did you do?"

"Cleaned, mostly. Some acid leaked into a cave downstairs and I had to figure out how to get it out." Logan polished off the chicken and leaned back. "Then I ran a few errands. Actually, I have another errand or two to do, so I should be going."

"What?" Remus' eyes narrowed. "Why'd you stop here, then?"

"I was hungry," Logan said. "Besides, I know you get nervous when I'm away for too long, and I was passing by. It was only logical."

Remus' eyes narrowed even further until they were just suspicious slits. "Where is it."

"Where is what?" Logan asked, but Patton noticed the way his grip tightened on the bed.

"Show me." Remus hopped up and walked towards Logan. "Now."

Logan held out for a second longer before sighing and rolling up his sleeve. Patton gasped and Virgil swore. A long cut slashed across his upper arm and curled into his elbow, half-dried blood crusted on the edges, a bit of dirt smeared beneath.

"Who the—" Remus' eyes were on fire. "Who did that?"

"No one did," Logan admitted. "I just tripped. It's dark and the rock wasn't where I expected it to be."

Remus sighed and stood up. "Where're the stupid bandages?"

"We don't have any." Logan rolled his sleeve back down with barely a wince and stood up. "It was a mistake coming here, I'll go—"

"Sit. Back. Down." Remus glared at Logan until Logan sat down again. "I'll go cover for you. Don't move. Patpitation and Virgilicious, keep an eye on him and try and clean that cut. Where did you say you needed to go?"

"I didn't." Logan sighed. "Zakarias. Plus some errand by the east face? I don't know who it was."

"Got it!" Remus trotted over. "Be right back!"

"Remus," Logan called weakly, but Remus was already gone. Logan swore and pulled up his sleeve again, inspecting the cut with a frown.

"Can I help?" Virgil asked, walking over.

"There's not much to do about it." Logan rubbed at the cut until most of the blood was on his sleeve instead. From the hard set of his jaw, it hurt. "It'll heal soon."

"Pat, you're good with heal-y stuff." Virgil ushered Patton to Logan's side. "Please say you know what to do."

"I do, but we don't have many resources," Patton said. "Or, actually, any. Do you guys even have any water?"

"There's a spring by the west face, we usually stop by there." Logan chuckled to himself. "Or you can use the acid pools, if you'd like to lose your entire arm along with the cut."

Patton looked at the acid pools beneath the stalactites and cringed.

Then he looked at the stalactites themselves.

The damp stalactites.

Which he'd touched without incident, which meant—

Patton grinned. He walked over and touched one, water coming away from his fingers. "Hey, Lo?"

"Yes, Patton?"

"Come on over here."

He spent the next ten minutes carefully cleaning Logan's arm. Logan only flinched a few times and each flinch was tiny, so Patton kept having to ask whether it hurt too much or not. He was reminded, painfully, of helping Janus—forcing Janus to admit where he was hurt, because if Patton didn't push the issue, Janus would just keep his mouth shut.

A lot of things made sense now.

"So," Logan finally said in what was clearly a feeble attempt at conversation. "How was your morning?"

"It was alright," Virgil said. "We were talking about escape plans."

"Ah. That's not surprising." Patton let go of Logan's arm and Logan flexed it experimentally. He smiled a bit. "Thank you, Patton. That's much better."

"No problem!" Patton sat back and wiped off his hands. "Remus was saying that you guys don't really know the way around?"

"He doesn't," Logan said. "I'm beginning to get a handle on it. However, there are still areas I haven't explored, and—" Logan looked at his arm and winced. "—the terrain still takes me by surprise sometimes."

"So…" Patton smiled sheepishly. "You don't have a genius plan to get us out of here?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Great," Virgil muttered. "I wasn't hopeful and I'm still disappointed."

"Virgil," Patton chided. "Just because we don't have a plan yet doesn't mean one can't exist."

"I hate to sound like a defeatist," Logan said slowly, "but Remus and I have tried to escape. Several times."

"Oh." Patton blinked. "Remus didn't tell us about that."

"He was probably trying to forget about them." Logan grimaced. "Quite honestly, I don't blame him—they did not go well."

"Did you try every plan?" Virgil asked, sounding more interested in hearing the embarrassing stories than finding a real plan. "Did you do that plan where you try to impersonate one of your kidnappers?"

Logan groaned and covered his face. "Maybe."

"Wait, seriously?" Virgil's smirk grew wider. "I was kidding—you actually tried to—"

"It was Remus' idea!" Logan sighed. "And we were desperate."

"Look," Patton said, trying to force the conversation back on track. "Just because you guys tried and failed doesn't mean it's not possible! If you don't succeed, try, try again! And you didn't have us before, did you?"

"Patton," Virgil said slowly, "I appreciate your optimism, but I fail to see what exactly the two of us are bringing to the table."

"Moral support?"

"In fairness," Logan said, "there is safety in numbers and there's no downside from having more people to brainstorm and carry out a plan—"

"Unless you're trying to be sneaky." Virgil folded his arms and stared at the ground. "I—I dunno, guys. I just have a bad feeling about this."

"You have a bad feeling about everything," said a voice from behind them.

Patton squeaked. Virgil grabbed for his nonexistent crossbow. Logan sighed and said "Don't sneak up on them, Remus."

"It's just so much fun!" Remus announced, popping out of the archway and sashaying over to them. "I'm back and I brought presents! How's your arm?"

"Better," Logan said. "What are those?"

Remus shifted the items in his arms. He was carrying two filled knapsacks and a battered crossbow.

A familiar crossbow and familiar knapsacks.

"That's—" Virgil jumped to his feet and grabbed the crossbow from Remus' hands. Remus fumbled with the knapsacks and dropped to the ground with them. "My crossbow!" He squeezed it to his chest. "Where'd you find that?"

"I didn't," Remus said, tossing Patton the knapsacks. Patton took them. They seemed way heavier than they had been. "Your dragon boyfriend gave it to me."

"What?" Patton and Virgil yelled in unison.

"Relax." Remus waved a hand. "Open 'em."

Patton slid Virgil's knapsack over to Virgil and opened his own. An assortment of fruits and breads spilled out. He picked up a few scuffed apples and slightly burnt loaves, staring at them. At the bottom of the pile was a small white piece of paper. Patton moved aside some grapes and read it the cramped handwriting.

I figured most of the food here wouldn't be your favorite. You'll find a plan if you try. Don't look for me. Watch your step on the way out.

Patton read it over and over again. He focused on the neat calligraphy, the little curve of the d's and the flourishes under the g's and f's. He memorized the exact shade of black against white paper and the little crease in the corner and a small stain from a popped blueberry. All that was safer than thinking of the actual words.

Janus remembered Patton was a vegetarian. Janus found Virgil's crossbow, which couldn't have been easy. Janus thought of them and sent them—well, Patton couldn't find a better term than a care package. A little message of support from wherever he was.

Don't look for me.

Patton turned the note over and swallowed down the bile in his throat.

"This…" Virgil's voice was quiet. Patton looked up to see that Virgil's knapsack wasn't filled with fruit. Instead there was an assortment of matches and several large sticks with charred tips. Beneath those were a few thin knives with wooden handles. Beneath those were a few small crossbow bolts. Virgil was staring at a note in his own hand, eyes wide. "He—"

"What does yours say?" Patton asked.

Virgil slid the paper over. Only two words.

Good luck.

"Good luck," Patton said out loud, like that would make him understand.

"So," Remus said, and Patton jumped. He'd forgotten Logan and Remus were still there. They really had a tendency to blend into the background now, didn't they? "What's the story?"

"He wants us to escape," Patton said slowly. "Well, I don't know if he wants us to, but he knows we'll try. So he's helping."

"He knows us well." Virgil picked up a bolt and rolled it around in his hand. "Where'd he even get all this stuff?"

"There are several armories in the Mountain," Logan said. "However, it's highly unlikely he had access to any of them, which implies he stole these items."

"I like his style," Remus added, grinning.

Patton just stared at the fruit in his lap and the little note turned over on the ground. Even without seeing the words, they bored themselves into his skull.

Don't look for me. Watch your step on the way out.

"So we're leaving," Patton said slowly. "We're actually going to do this?"

"What?" Virgil asked, jerking his head upright. "Now? We still don't have a plan!"

"Yeah!" Remus scoffed. "I'm all for winging it, but I don't want to just jump off the mountain and go sploosh on the ground, thanks!"

"I agree with Virgil," Logan said. "We should do it right away, before Patton and Virgil get settled in."

"But the dragons'll see it coming." Virgil shifted. "Maybe we should wait until—"

"Wait until what?" Patton didn't wait for an answer. "I don't want any of us staying here longer than we have to."

Everyone was quiet after that.

"We still don't have a plan," Virgil finally said.

"Who needs a plan?" Patton asked. "I didn't have a plan when I tried to rescue you guys—"

"And look how well that went." Logan's mouth twitched, though, and Patton knew he was teasing. "It does seem futile to waste time and resources. Much as I dislike the practice of figuratively 'winging it,' I have to admit it may be our only option."

Patton returned his gaze to the food piled in his knapsack. He quickly pushed it all back in and tied the knapsack with a lopsided knot. The little paper with Janus' message fell to the floor.

Even with food, weapons and fire, they were still trapped. They didn't know which direction to go and they were surrounded by hostile dragons. Patton hated to admit it, but Logan was right—improvising could only get them so far. And they were only in this situation because Patton hadn't thought things through.

Patton picked up the paper and smoothed it in his hands.

Watch your step on your way out.

Why couldn't Janus be a little less vague? He clearly believed they could find their way out. So why didn't he give them an actual plan? Maybe he was afraid of it being intercepted. Still, he was so smart, couldn't he have left a clue or two—

You'll find a plan if you try.

Patton stared at the looping scrawl of the word 'try.' The y had a long tail that doubled back under the word, almost like Janus was emphasizing it.

Try.

Of course.

"Jan, you genius." A huge smile covered Patton's face. "You complete genius."

Virgil blinked a few times. "I'm confused."

"Try." Patton thrust the note at Virgil. "He wasn't just being encouraging, he was telling me what to do!"

Virgil looked at the note and back up at Patton. "Yeah, I'm still lost."

"Magic!" Patton exclaimed. "He's telling me to use my magic!"

"What?" Virgil looked back at the note. "First, I don't see that at all. Second, I don't know how your magic would help. You don't even know how to use it."

"I do," Patton said with a pout, which was a lie.

"Third," Logan said. "Since when do you have magic?"

Oh. Fiddlesticks.

Logan and Remus were staring at him with varying degrees of confusion. Virgil's eyes were widening as he realized what was happening. And Patton was pushing down the panic because Logan asked him a question and he needed to answer it.

"Since I made the deal with the Faerie," Patton said. "I think."

"And don't do that," Virgil said.

"What?" Remus asked.

"Ask questions." Virgil poked a thumb at Patton, who now felt even more awkward. "It hurts him if he doesn't tell the truth right away."

"Oh." Logan opened and closed his mouth a few times. "I…my apologies, I was unaware. I promise not to do it again."

"Fae stuff," Remus said almost reverently. "And now you can do magic too—that's really—"

"It's not much," Patton said, cutting Remus off before he could hear the inevitable condemnation. "I really can't do much magic at all. And I don't know how to use it—I've only used it four times."

"Four," Virgil repeated, eyes asking the question his words didn't.

"I, um—" Patton rubbed at his neck. "I may have actually managed to use it. Against Janus. After he knocked you out."

"Oh," Virgil said, his face unreadable. Patton curled further into himself and stared at his hands.

"So how does—" Logan cut himself off. "I'm curious to know how your magic works."

"It's fire," Patton said miserably. No use trying to hide it from them. "Blue fire. I summon it—I don't think it can hurt me, unless I lose concentration. It…I'm pretty sure it can hurt other people, though."

Remus made a little noise. Patton looked up. Remus' eyes were wide and a grin split his face.

"That's so awesome!" Remus blurted out.

"What?" Patton blinked. "It's what?"

"It does seem highly fascinating." Logan's eyes shone and he pushed up his glasses, adopting a pose Patton remembered well. It was Logan's scientist pose. "There are so many factors here—I wonder how hot the fire is, and whether it's oxygen-based or a different chemical reaction, and how long it can burn without some source of fuel—this is highly intriguing, Patton, could you demonstrate?"

"No," Patton said. "I don't know how to do it on cue. And—you think it's what?"

"Cool," Remus said, sounding like it was obvious. "Well, not cool, it's fire. So hot! Flaming hot! It's really neat and I wanna know if it can burn people!"

"Did you…" Logan hesitated. "I don't understand what reaction you expected. Unless you were worried we'd be—"

"Scared," Virgil finished, giving Patton a sympathetic look.

Patton swallowed.

"Yeah, we're not scared," Remus said. "I don't think you could hurt anyone if your life depended on it, so you'll probably turn your kick-butt magic fire powers into some way to be really nice and save the world. Like the boring person you are."

"Really?" Patton whispered.

"Of course." Logan smiled at him. "It's alright, Patton."

"That's what I said," Virgil agreed, grinning lazily. "I was ahead of the curve, Pat."

"You're very smart," Patton agreed, grinning back. "And I should listen to you more often."

"Eh, it goes both ways, I think." Virgil shrugged. "So, plan."

"Plan." Patton spread his hands out. "I think, if I can figure out how to use my magic, maybe it can lead us out? It comes from the Woods, so maybe I can find a way there, or I could just use it as light or defense. Either way, Janus seems to think it'll work, and I—I trust him."

"Not sure about that," Virgil said, but it was a token complaint. Patton could see in his eyes he agreed.

"We don't have many other options," Patton said. "So it's worth a shot."

"The problem remains, as I see it," Logan said, "that you don't know how to use your powers."

"Right." Patton giggled. "I can! I'm sure! I just need a little time to figure out how to use them and not kill all of us in the process."

"Gotcha," Remus said, sounding way more excited about that than he should.

"Well, no time like the present." Virgil motioned to Patton. "Go ahead, do your flamey thing."

Patton huffed. "I can't just—"

"Try," Virgil said.

Patton's retort died in his throat.

He waited a few seconds to make sure Remus and Logan weren't going to suddenly change their minds. Everyone was silent.

Patton carefully scooted a few inches away from them. Then a few inches more. Just in case.

He closed his eyes.

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

[fernwehbookworm]

Haunted- Chapter 3

“I don’t know what to tell you Kar. There is no one here, no forced entry, nothing.”

“How do you explain the mirror then?” Kara paces in her apartment while her sister continues to check every corner of her apartment.

“I don’t know. There isn’t anything there anymore. Normally smudges like that will stay until you clean it, at least a little, but I tried to fog it up and it's as clean as a whistle.”

“I’m telling you, it was there.”

“I’m sure it was. You don’t overreact. But I don’t know what to tell you.”

Kara collapses on her couch groans, her head hurt from lack of sleep and stress. Kara pinches the bridge of her nose and scrunches her eyes tight. Kara feels her sister sit next to her.

“You can come stay with me. Kelly has been spending a lot of time at the office anyway, helping prep some new technology for Obsidian to release next year.”

“Yeah, yeah okay. I’m going to pack a bag real quick. Can Streaky come? It's supposed to storm all week.”

“The stray?”

“Is he really a stray when he lives his best life?”

Alex laughs “Yeah, he just conned you into feeding and housing him.”

“And he returns the favor with love and affection.” Kara looks at the cat in question, lounging on the loveseat, in a weak sunbeam, purring contentedly.

“If he makes you feel better then yes, bring him. But he pees on one thing and it's back outside.”

“He isn’t a dog, Alex. He goes in the litter box just fine.”

Alex makes a face but relents. Kara goes to pack some clothes and toiletries and Alex grabs the cat’s belongings. Kara was right, dark clouds were already descending upon the city to start the week of rain and storms.

With a bag over one shoulder and a cat under the other, Kara leaves her apartment with her sister. She could be overreacting, but the mirror thing was too creepy to ignore. And Kara had to work on this article, already Snapper was criticizing her rough drafts and decimenting her sentence structure. Kara was already dreading the emails she knows are piled in her inbox from her editor. Kara called off work and just knew Snapper would not be happy with it. In order to keep the screaming to a minimum, Kara was going to have to have the first draft done by tomorrow.

“Okay,” Alex says when they get to her apartment. “Will you be fine by yourself? I have to go to work.”

“Yes. I feel better already.” Kara lets Streaky go and he immediately lands and scurries off to explore the new space.

“If you need it, you still know the safe code right?”

Kara scrunches her nose, “Yes, not that I like guns.”

“You have a Federal Agent for a sister.” Alex rolls her eyes. “It's just in case. I don’t know what is happening but I want you to protect yourself if you need to.”

“I will, Al. Go on to work. I’m just going to work on my article. Maybe take a nap.”

“Yes, please sleep. You look exhausted. Help yourself to food too.” Alex kisses her sister’s forehead. “Goodbye, call me if you need anything.”

“I will. Be safe”

Alex flashes a smile before leaving. Kara does feel better here, in her sister's home. It's full of love and memories of game nights. Also, Kara knows where at least six weapons are hidden that  Alex made sure that Kara (and now Kelly) were trained to use. Kara turns the lock on the door and raids the fridge for snacks and something to drink before settling into work.

After about two hours, Kara’s eyes are beginning to droop and her yawns are uncontainable. “Okay, 20-minute nap. Then right back to work.” Kara mumbles to herself.

Kara settles on Alex’s super comfortable sectional and pulls a blanket off the back of it. As soon as Kara is comfortable, Streaky jumps onto her stomach and begins to purr. Kara runs her hands through soft fur and allows the motion and vibration to lull her into a much needed nap.

Welcome to the Hotel California

Such a lovely place (such a lovely place)

Such a lovely face

Plenty of room at the Hotel California

Any time of year (any time of year)

You can find it here

Kara wakes with a start. The warmth on her stomach is gone and there is music playing.

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted

She got the Mercedes Benz, uh

She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys

That she calls friends

How they dance in the courtyard

Sweet summer sweat

Some dance to remember

Some dance to forget

Kara locates the record player that Streaky is sitting next to and intensely staring at as the record spins round and round. He must have turned it on by accident. The cat tended to be too curious for his own good. With a sigh, Kara stands and goes to turn it off, picking up the car and moving him to the floor. Streaky protests but Kara ignores him. Upon inspection, nothing seems damaged. If Alex would kick Streaky out for peeing on something, she would shoot him for scratching one of her vinyl records.

Awake now, Kara sets back to work, determined to at least finish the first draft before five. Around noon, Kara helps herself to leftovers in Alex's fridge and continues working. Kara is deep into her final paragraphs when the TV clicks on, blaring sound. Kara practically leaps from her chair as the creepy piano plays.

You unlock this door with the key of imagination.

Beyond it is another dimension- a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind.

You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas.

You've just crossed over into . . . the Twilight Zone.

Kara feels as if her heart is beating in her throat and her stomach has fallen through the floor. Streaky is on the back of the couch, half laying on the remote.

"Boy… are you trying to scare me to death?" Kara laughs to herself and rescues the remote from under the cat and turns off the TV. Just ten more minutes of work and she will be done. Sending it off to Snapper to be covered in notes and changes and insults. But that is a problem for tomorrow. Tonight, Kara is going to make dinner for her sister and her sister's girlfriend and try and put this morning behind her.

Kara must be more tired then she thinks she is, even with the nap she had. All while making dinner she drops half a dozen utensils and misplaces just as many things. She could have sworn the bell peppers were right next to the cutting board as she chopped the carrots, but when she went to grab them they were on the counter behind her next to the stove. The peeler fell to the floor without Kara even touching it and the sharp knife followed a few minutes later, almost striking her foot on its dangerous journey down.

Kara was clumsy and a bit forgetful at the best of times, adding in only about eight hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours, and Kara was a God damn hazard. But Kara was determined to make this chicken stir fry as a 'Thank you' to her sister. By 6:30 everything is done and staying warm in the oven and Kara waits for Alex, her sister had texted her about fifteen minutes ago that Alex was leaving work. Kelly would be about an hour more. Another ding of Kara's phone. Kara checks and it's a text from Jess, letting her know that L-Corp released more information to the reporters.

Kara decides to browse the new information while she waits. Picking up the green pen she had taken from L-Corp, Kara sets to taking more notes. She always found it was better to handwrite things first, it helps the information sink into her brain before transferring it to a digital format. Movement out of the side of her eye breaks Kara from her concentration. With a gasp, Kara sees Lena pacing by Alex's balcony door. But as soon as Kara focuses on her, Lena is gone with a blink. A chill passes down Kara's spine. Kara throws down her pen and tries to calmly walk to the kitchen for some water.

"I'm just overtired. That's it. Too focused." Kara mumbles to herself between sips of the cool liquid.

"Hey!" Alex calls and Kara jumps with a small yelp.

Alex throws her a questioning look from the front door and immediately scans the apartment for danger. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Just been working too hard I think."

"You really need to take time off."

"I know. I know. This is just such a crucial time. Anyway… dinner is ready. Chicken stir fry."

Alex's face softens from the concerned big sister to an appreciative hungry woman. "Great, Kelly said she won't be home until like 7:30 now so it's just us.

"So… Sister Night?"

"Sister Night" Alex confirms.

Kara squeals and grabs bowls to load with the medley of rice, vegetables, and protein. Alex grabs glasses for wine and heads into the living room to que up the newest season of Umbrella Academy. They watched the first season together and pinky swore to only watch the second together also.

After an episode, Alex gathers the dishes and disappears into the kitchen. She returns with a pint of Ben and Jerry's for each of them, allowing her sister to pick first. They swap halfway through the containers and Kara hums in satisfaction as she scraps the last of the melted ice cream from the bottom.

Kara ignores the fact that Alex keeps checking her phone. She's waiting on Kelly who is now half an hour later then she said she would be. It isn't until the end of the third episode that Kelly finally makes it home. Alex leaves Kara on the couch as they hear the front door open and the sound of bags hitting the floor and shows roughly kicked off.

"Hey babe! Kara made dinner. You hungry?" Kara hears Alex call.

"No thank you. I'm just tired. But I could go for a glass of wine."

"Coming right up."

Kara can hear the two in the kitchen now, talking quietly as Kara scrolls through her phone, waiting on them to come back. Alex sits in the middle of the couch, Kelly tucks herself into the corner and stretches her feet onto her girlfriend's lap. Kara resumes her position of her head on Alex's shoulder and their arms intertwined. Alex switches the show to something less intense and the Parks and Rec theme song starts.

Kara can feel the vibrations of Alex talking to Kelly about their days against her cheek. Between that and the familiarity of the show's dialogue, Kara can soon feel herself slipping deeper into unconsciousness.

Lena is alone in the lab. It's late, darkness permeates the lab except for the lights around where Lena is working. Lena types vigorously at her laptop, brow furrowed in concentration. Lights are blinking on the machine behind her. Lena is mumbling under her breath. Kara laughs but it sounds weird, muffled.

“Hey, Lena.”

Lena doesn't respond, just continues to type away. From behind her ear, Lena produces a pen to begin writing. A green pen. With gold trim. The very pen Kara had acquired from L-Corp. After a few, what Kara can only assume is, equations, Lena cries out. Kara jumps with the rudeness of it, but then a giant grin spreads on Lena’s face. Lena begins to giggle excitedly while she inputs something into her computer and then Lena practically skips over to the machine and flips switches and turns dials. Then Lena runs back to her computer and the large machine begins to hum, lights flash. Quickly, Lena grabs an apple from next to her computer and places it on the small platform in the middle of the center hole.

Lena is fixated on the apple, only looking away to check her computer. Lena is so focused, Kara smiles to herself. It’s really cute. Kara stays back and watches the scene unfold. She feels excitement build in her chest, matching the excitement on Lena’s face.

Out of the corner of her eye, Kara sees a shadow move. It slides between desks and chairs, nearly shapeless and silent. Lights from the machines make a beacon in the near darkness, making the shadow even harder to see. Lena’s back is to it as she inches closer to the machine. Then the shadow materializes into a human form, completely shrouded head to toe. It reaches a handout and turns a dial out of Lena's eye line. Kara cries out but Lena can't hear her. The shadow slinks back into the darkness and is gone. Something changes in the hum of the machine. The light that had been circling the apple in the opening began to increase speed. Lights began to blink rapidly all over the network of technology. Lena's glee was slowly morphing into terror. Bright white light is building from the center and the hum has turned into more of a whine as it builds.

"No! No, no, no, no!" Lena exclaims as she scrambles to start turning switches and dials to turn off the machine. But it's too late. The damage has been done.

Kara has to close her eyes against the harshness of the light and feels herself get blown backward by the concussive force of whatever is happening. By the time she can see again, Lena is gone. The room is left in the same devastated state that Kara saw when she first arrived at L-Corp.

"Lena!" Kara yells, waking herself up.

Kara looks around to get her bearings. Alex and Kelly are still sitting on the couch next to her, staring at her in concern. Kara leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees, bearing her face in her hands and taking deep breaths. After a moment she can feel Alex rubbing circles between her shoulder blades.

"Bad dream?" Alex asks softly.

Kara nods and continues to try and calm her racing heart.

After a few minutes, Kelly softly asks, "Who's Lena?"

Kara must have yelled out loud and that's what woke her. "The woman I'm doing a story on. The CEO of L-Corp. She died in a lab accident. Well they assume. There isn't a body."

"And are you stressed about that?" Kelly probs gently.

"Yeah. I haven't been able to sleep. I've been up late working and then when I do sleep, I have dreams about her."

"Are they all nightmares?"

"No. Sometimes it's just like she is there in whatever weird dream I'm having. Sometimes we sit and have a conversation. Sometimes in my apartment, sometimes in the lab. That was the first nightmare."

Kara finally looks at her sister and Kelly. Alex looks concerned but Kelly has on her very serious face. The 'I'm psychoanalyzing someone' face.

"Is that the only time you see her?"

"Are you shrinking me right now?" Kara asks with a laugh.

Kelly makes a face at Kara's term. "I'm concerned that my girlfriend's sister is showing signs of stress-related anxiety."

Kara relents. "No. I keep seeing her out of the corner of my eye. Passing by a window, sitting next to me. Across the room. Just snatches. When I focus on her she's gone. It’s so weird. Like, I never knew her but somehow I’ve  imagined entire conversations with her.”

Kelly is quiet for a moment. When Kara looks over at her, Kelly and Alex seem to be having a silent conversation with their eyes. A few nods and Kelly’s eyebrows furrow, Kara can’t see Alex’s face but assumes she is being just as expressive. With a huff of air, Alex turns back to her sister and continues to rub between Kara’s shoulder blades.

“Kara I really think you need to take time off. This amount of stress is not healthy. And this is not a healthy reaction to the death of a stranger.”

“I know. I told Alex I would after the article is submitted I would. But Lena, she deserves this. She deserves to be remembered for all the good she has done. Not for the awful crimes of her brother. Did you know she sponsors several group homes in National City? Not L-Corp, Lena does, personally. She even uses those homes to look for interns and to give scholarships to teens. I just… I can’t let her be forgotten. And all those other reporters, they are just going to twist the story. Or give bare-bone facts. I promised Jess and all the other employees I would write this. I can’t stop now.”

“You don’t have to. But look, maybe you can come to Obsidian tomorrow. We are working on this new virtual reality tech and how it can be used in therapy. Maybe I can help you get past this so you can sleep.”

“But I have to…” Kara trails off when she sees the glare from her sister. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come first thing. Then maybe I can still finish reading through this new research and get a copy to Snapper.”

“Good. It’s settled. I’m going to shower. Alex, get your sister a bed made up on the couch so that she might get some sleep. Goodnight, Kara.”

“Night, Kelly.”

When Kelly is gone, Alex wraps her sister up in a tight hug. “Don’t work yourself to death. I need my sister.” Alex kisses Kara’s forehead and then stands to get the extra blankets and a pillow from the closet.

“And I need mine. That’s why I am here. And your brain doctor girlfriend is going to fix me right up.” Kara tries to joke but it falls a little flat. Alex tries to smile but it looks more like a grimace.

“Sleep tight. We are just in the next room if you need us. Please, wake me up if you need anything.”

“I will. Goodnight, Al.” Kara settles under the fluffy blanket and rests her head on the pillow.

Alex moves about, checking locks and turning off lights before finally retiring to her bedroom. Kara can soon hear the shower turn off and Kelly and Alex talking in the bedroom. It’s too soft to make out words but the drone of it is comforting and Kara is soon slipping back into unconsciousness.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

The story of Britton Bean started with finding her photo on the Humane Society website. It was April. We weren’t supposed to get a dog until July. 

But. Those ears. 

And she met all the requirements we had for a dog: Small (apartment management requires dogs under 20 pounds); female (to hopefully make it easier to become friends with the bestie’s dog; a rescue. 

So, I posted this tweet, then frantically texted @whatsmyappeal​, who was at work. Basically trying to talk myself out of going and meeting this dog. Because I knew. I just <em>knew</em>.

I mean. Those <em>ears</em>.

Here’s the thing about adopting a dog in PDX: If you adopt through the Humane Society, you have to move fast. Dogs and cats get adopted fantastically quickly in PDX. On average, dogs who pass behavioral tests and physical exams can be put up for adoption on Tuesday and gone by Wednesday. PDX is such a busy place for the Humane Society, that they take in a LOT of animals from neighboring states. It’s called the Second Chance Program. Animals from neighboring states who pass health and behavioral tests are sent to PDX so that shelters near-capacity can keep space open for animals that need more specialized care or simply more animals in general. 

We’ll circle back to this in a second.

So, here’s this adorable, scared little girl up for adoption, and I’m trying desperately not to run out and grab her. We’re traveling in June and July; which is why we decided to wait until late July to even consider adoption. I had been looking at listings just to get a sense of how often small dogs came into the shelter. This was not the moment to adopt. 

But. I knew she was ours. I just knew it. 

I ended up calling the husband and laying out a plan. We’ll go and meet her. He gets final say in if we take her home. If she doesn’t feel like a good fit to him, we’ll wait. It’s important that we both want this dog. 

We go. We fill out paperwork. We wait an hour. We go into the meeting room, and here she comes. She’s scared and nervy. Incredibly quiet. We find out she’s had a very, very exhausting week. 

On Monday, she’d been found on the streets of Fresno. 

On Tuesday, they’d put her on a truck to bring her to PDX.

On Wednesday, she’d been spayed. 

And it was now Thursday, and we were meeting her.

Sean and I took a few minutes to discuss pros and cons: We couldn’t get a real sense of her overall personality at the moment because she was clearly terrified and exhausted. But we’ve always planned to adopt a rescue, so we’re well aware of issues we may have to overcome. What we had seen was promising. She was sweet and curious, if a bit shaky. 

We took her home. On the drive there, we changed her name from Butterfly (named by the shelter) to Britton Bean. ‘Bean’ because she’s small and ‘Britton’ after my great-grandparents. They’d always been dog lovers and no one in the family had used the name elsewhere, and I think they’d have been delighted to find out our pup had their name. 

We got her home, and put her inside, and she sniffed around for a couple of minutes, then spotted the couch and LEAPED onto it, rolling around and digging at it in clear excitement. 

That answered our first question: She knew what a couch was. She probably hadn’t always been a stray. 

A couple of hours later, we had answers to other questions: She knew how to walk on a leash. She liked belly rubs. I had no doubt that before she’d been found in Fresno, she’d been somebody’s pet. 

For the next two weeks, she basically slept. Can’t say I blame her.

When she wasn’t sleeping, she was on watch. A few days after we got her, we took her for a car ride. She climbed right into Sean’s lap in the driver’s seat and stared out the window. She knew what a sweater was and liked to wear them. She knew to flop over to get her harness put on. 

When they’d found her in Fresno, she’d clearly recently had puppies. But she was found alone, and the guess was that the puppies had been weaned, and she had been dumped. Frenso’s got a bad habit of that. 

It didn’t make sense to me. She was two years old. If they’d only been using her for breeding, it seemed unlikely she’d be so good on a lease or want lap sits or know how to ride in a car. And while she was a bit skinny when we got her, she only had to put on a pound and a half to get back up to a good weight. Strays who have puppies tend to need to recover a lot more than that when they’re picked up by rescues. And if they’re lifelong strays, they don’t know how to walk on a leash or what lap sits are. 

Looking at our girl and knowing what I knew of backyard breeders, I did some research, and I came to a conclusion. Our deer-headed, big-eared, long-bodied baby was a Chiweenie. 

A Chiweenie is a “designer breed,” which is the nice way of saying someone got it into their head they had to further cute-ify dogs to their exact liking, and so they took a Dachshund and a Chihuahua and had them make babies. Now, where I come from, we’d call that a mutt, and there’d be an ad in the paper for free puppies. But since someone did it on purpose and gave it a cutesy nickname, puppies can cost up to $500 each. The fact that Bean was found on the streets with clear signs she’d had puppies but wasn’t skeletal? I’m pretty sure someone bred her specifically to sell her pups, and then dumped her when the pups were weaned. 

But prior to that? I think she was someone’s beloved dog. Like I said, she knew what a couch was. She could walk on a leash. She was housebroken. She knew how to signal to go out. She knew what sweaters were and how to ride in the car. 

I have a whole backstory of guesses of how she ended up at the Humane Society to come home with us, but I’ll skip that. Because what’s important isn’t where she was, it’s where she is, and that’s with us.

She is not without her challenges. She barks at nearly everything. She has separation anxiety (RIP living room blinds). We’re working on it. She crates well, thankfully, so we can keep her safe if we need to leave her alone, but we also have a dogsitter and try to take her with us on errands whenever possible. 

What’s good is that while these things are issues, they’re improving. The barking is toning down in a lot of places, and her separation anxiety is getting less prominent. I work from home now, so when I leave the house, she seems to think I’ll never return. If Sean leaves for work, she’s fine. If he comes home after work, then leaves again, she gets a bit moody but does all right overall. 

Even better is that the things we’re working on are changing. First, it was getting her to stop barking at every little thing. Now, it’s focusing on getting her to ignore other dogs walking by and getting her to stop threatening people dropping off mail and packages. But there’s a new twist: She barks for attention now. If we’re not giving her enough attention by her standards, she’ll come right up and bark at us. It is very, <em>very</em> annoying. But it’s also a good sign. She’s getting more comfortable, so she’s pushing boundaries to see what we do. 

We do what we always do: We work with her, then praise her when she acts appropriately. She had to go one-on-one for training, but she did great. She loved it. The trainer thinks that she’ll never be super buddy-buddy with other dogs in general, but it’s a real possibility she’ll learn to ignore dogs on walks and maybe even be able to make a friend or two over time. We’re seeing her ability to ignore other dogs already, and that’s damn good for less than a year’s work. 

She hates the cold, so we got her a warming stone for her couch nest, and the heating pad lives on her bed in front of the entertainment center. Her sweater collection grows almost every week, and she has three pairs of pajamas so far. She’s figured out that being out in the cold with the sun out is perfectly fine for a walk, but we’re still working on her accepting being out in the rain. She absolutely loathes the rain, but she’s a PNW girl now, so she has to deal. We don’t make her stay out longer than she needs to go to the bathroom if she doesn’t want to, and she has a little, fake grass patch on the porch so she can pee there in the middle of the night. 

She’s clever as hell. You put a hunting dog and a rat-catcher in the same body, it’ll happen. It’s led to pooping in the house in the middle of the night because she’s discovered if she doesn’t shake off before she does it, we don’t wake up to see if she needs out. 

She’s sweet as can be and loves treats. She also loves people once she’s gotten used to them, though she’ll still decide she needs to bark for five minutes when they visit. We took her to someone else’s house for Thanksgiving, and while she was overwhelmed at times, she mellowed during the night and was playing with her toy by the end of things. 

She gets a Puppacino once a week and knows when it’s happening. Her tiny claws are stabby knives of death, but we can’t trim them super often because her quicks are so long. She plays with her toys for about ten minutes at a time, and if she really wants your attention, she’ll get in your lap, stand on her hind legs, and lick your nose. 

She is a very good girl, and will likely live well into her teens. Right now, she’s curled on my lap to warm up her feet because we went for a walk. In a couple of hours, she’ll wake up and shake off and move back to the couch or come in and stare at me until I turn on the heating pad on her bed. If she doesn’t get her pill pocket at four, she’ll come and lick my nose.

[jimlingss]

BOO-lieve in Me [1/2]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 [Finale]

➜ Words: 15k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Spirit Marriage!AU

➜ Summary: A Spirit Marriage - in which two deceased people are wedded together. In your life, you wouldn’t have ever imagined yourself married. Much less to mommy’s boy, Min Yoongi.

➜ Warnings: ghosts, discussion of death, swearing.

➜ Notes: istg the titles for my fics are getting shittier and shittier. nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this small series! and happy birthday to the one and only Min Yoongi!!

You’d rather die than be here.

“During the late eighteenth century, there were many trade issues with tea as European control over trade with China was very limited. On page two-hundred sixty of your textbook, it says that the merchants were under the direction of local officials who made all decisions of the selling process, leaving little for negotiation….”   The teacher drones and on and on. Sitting here at the very back of the class with your legs comfortably popped up on the desk, you feel like slamming your head against the wall. But even if you did that — no one would notice. Luckily enough, you’re not the only one bored out of your mind. There are students passing each other notes, giggling and spewing spitballs at one another. It’s terribly childish and juvenile, so with a roll of your eyes, you keep your vision trained forward to the person you’re sitting behind, burning holes into the back of Jungkook’s head.   Jungkook’s a little shit. He’s fairly popular amongst his peers for his good looks and personality, and he knows it too. He likes to talk back. He’s a brat. He’s competitive and rambunctious too. But you beneath it all, he’s a good kid — getting good grades, friendly to those he meets, athletic and talented in drawing. But lately, he’s been quieter. Reclusive even. Jungkook has become timid and he’s been distant to his friends. It’s obvious that he’s having a hard time.   “Do you want to go to the movies after school? They’re playing a new movie!”   “The one with Won Bin?”   “Yeah! It starts at five. It got good reviews too and apparently he has a shower scene.”   The two girls are giggling together, snickering underneath their breaths. And when a spitball flies past from a guy sitting across from you, your brain nearly blows a gasket. You glare into the back of their heads, mouth drawing open to say something, but you don’t need to.   The teacher at the front of the room turns on his toes. “Who’s talking?!”   Silence ripples throughout the room. The girls turn right back around and the boys hide their straws in the laps, all looking down at their open textbooks simultaneously. Only those who have their head rested on their desks, drooling on the wooden surface as they sleep, are caught for not paying attention. Fortunately for all of them before the teacher can yell again, the bell rings.   It chimes throughout the entire building and the students get up, dismissed from the day much to the teacher’s dismay. “Make sure to finish all of your assigned homework!” he screams and gives up, packing his own things to leave.   Unlike the others, you’re in no rush, instead turning to look out the window. There are students already running out the school gate, laughing with their friends, racing home, or strolling to their after-school activities.   Jungkook is slow, languidly packing up his belongings, picking up his bag, putting on his jacket.   As you redirect your gaze towards him, he ignores you. The boy is a ghost, caught in a trance and only brought back to the ground when someone pops their head through the door and shouts his name. “Jungkook! Are you coming with us? We’re heading down to the—”   “No, I’m fine.” He throws his bags over his shoulder and walks out the door while Jaehyun is left helpless, unable to persuade him. “I have some things to do at home. Maybe another time.”   What an idiot.   You finally get up from your own seat, hands dug in your pockets, following him out.   Jungkook walks alone, each of his steps dragged down by a weight on his shoulders that you cannot see. His head is downcasted, arms by his side and as you shadow his strides at a distance, he doesn’t notice the girl who comes from the opposite direction. Her shoulder collides with his as she speed walks and at the exact same time as she spews out an apology, he mumbles his own.   “Oh.” The female stops and turns herself back, nearly whipping him in the face with her high ponytail. “You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”   “Umm...do I know you?”   “At the beginning of the semester, I gave you a pack of ramen.”   “You….did?”   “Yeah. I was promoting the gardening club. The ramen had an advertisement stapled to it,” she reminds him in exasperation and you approach close enough to read the nametag on her uniform — Yeeun. She’s definitely an interesting character, you muse. Very loud and bubbly, having no sense of boundaries as she invades in his personal space. This is the most you’ve seen Jungkook talk recently and it’s quite funny to watch him so taken back. “You even signed up to receive information. I remember because you gave me a FAKE email!”   “Oh…” Jungkook ducks his head, finding her overwhelming. “Sorry. I must’ve made a mistake…”   “Yeah, sure. Listen, I’ll forgive you if you join the gardening club. We actually need more help—”   “I’m good.”   “If you weren’t interested in it in the first place, then you shouldn't have taken the ramen and given me a fake email! I could’ve given that to someone else instead. I know gardening seems lame but it’s actually a lot of fun and it doesn’t take that long to learn—…..are you walking away from me?!”   “I have some place to be.” Jungkook is backing away with his palms up. “Sorry, not interested.”   Yeeun’s mouth draws open, baffled. You laugh, snickering openly and when you brush past her, you catch her muttering about his rudeness and how she feels like a salesman going door to door.   You continue following Jungkook, but not without musing that the girl seemed cute. Jungkook could’ve totally made a move or at least got a new friend, but he blew it like a total dork that he is. Though the image of him kneeling in dirt as he tends to tomatoes is all too humorous.   Your feet trail after him at a distance, steps matching his. Your eyes watch his backside, too curious for your own good. He goes down three blocks, deeper into the suburban area, turning a left then a right. But as you tail him, you’re suddenly disrupted by an urgent bark.   Head drooping to the ground, you find a brown poodle dog yapping at you, having leaped out from the alleyway. “Go away.”   You walk over the stray, but it follows, throwing itself in front of you once more.   “I said go away!”   At your shout, the dog remains undeterred. His tail is still wagging, tongue out as he pants. The more you pay attention to him, the more he reacts. You look up quickly, finding that you’ve lost sight of Jungkook. Damn. With no other choice and a sigh of frustration, you pick up the damn dog into your arms.   “What do you want from me? Where’s your owner, huh?” You look at the dog’s small blue collar, catching the name tag. “You’re Holly?”   The poodle barks and a tiny smile sneaks on your lips before you repress it and set him down. “Go away. Leave me alone,” you tell the stray. “I’m not in any condition to take care of you, alright? And I don’t want to!”   He follows you, stubby legs teetering from side to side to match up with your wide strides. A discontented inhale is stolen through the seams of your lips and you swivel around on your toes. “Stay!”   Holly yelps at your command, but ultimately obeys. He stays in one spot, watching you march off.   Your speed picks up and you follow Jungkook’s direction. That is until the road splits off into four and you don’t know where he’s gone. There are people coming from all directions, kids walking home from school, mothers pushing their strollers, elders holding their groceries from the store nearby. You’re lost.   After a moment of watching, you sigh and give up.   The sun begins to fall as the evening hour arrives. It becomes dark out within minutes, black rippling through the city slowly and engulfing the sky into nightfall. You wait at a bus station, sitting underneath the glass shelter on a bench, examining the way the wheels roll on the road. You watch the way the buses stop, how steam puffs out of their engine, how the creaking doors open and people get on and off, students and workers alike.   Sitting in a single spot, you listen to the sounds of the city, the white noise, the distant cars in the back, the bustle of synchronized steps and conversations. You observe the people out and about, catching taxis and cabs or entering the cozy restaurant from across the street, those that shuffle away from the coldness, arguing with loved ones on the phone. You watch how alive they are.   But finally, after hours of waiting, the bus you were expecting stops in front of you. You stand up and after three or so people hop off, you find the older lady bumbling onto the road again. She doesn’t look at you.   The aged woman has wrinkles around her eyes, her steps slow, fatigue permanently etched in her muscles. She exhales every so often and you follow after her as she drags her feet from the exhausted day. Your eyes trace her slumped shoulders and thin legs, watching her backside and chasing her shadow. You stroll behind her like some sort of child lost on her way or much like Holly, a stray dog desperate for attention.   The woman turns down the dark street, opening the gate to her house and you catch up behind her as her keys rattle and she opens the door. You slip inside behind her before it shuts.   The entire house is consumed in darkness, but the television is on, screen casting a blinding glow around the room, walls bathed in the static. The woman turns on the lights and the boy laying on the couch, watching mindlessly, doesn’t even blink.   “Have you eaten yet?”   He ignores her. She moves to the kitchen, sighing again and you follow.   “Mom,” you call out, but she ignores you. “Mom…..”   Your mom scoops up a bowl of rice from the cooker. But she doesn’t eat it even if her stomach is growling. Instead, she sets it on the table by the front door, right beside your picture frame.   “You must’ve been hungry, huh?” A sad smile graces her lips as she speaks to you. “I’m sorry for working all day. I hope you weren’t lonely. Things haven’t been too bad around here—”   The boy on the couch gets up, sitting straight. His hair is a mess, eyes weary, and he turns his head. “Can you not talk to her like that? It’s creepy. And stop giving her food. I have to throw it away after. It’s annoying.”   “Jungkook….”   He gets onto his feet, footsteps padding down the hall before the door slams shut. The walls rattle on impact, hinges squeaking and she winces.   You scoff. “What a brat.”   But your mom is less angry. She merely sighs, returning to the kitchen to get her food, only to end up sitting alone at the dinner table without knowing that you’re right beside her. And she barely eats, putting less than a spoonful in her mouth before he cries into her bowl. The woman sobs quietly to not disturb her son.   It’s heart wrenching and you can’t bear it for a full minute. You peel yourself off the chair, going down the hall into Jungkook’s room. Passing through the door, you find him laying in bed, facing the wall. “You’re a brat, you know that?! Mom’s crying because of you! You’re such an ass!”   “You think just cause I’m not here anymore means you get to disrespect mom?! Yeah right. Not on my watch, punk!”   Jungkook doesn’t hear you of course, but it still feels good to get it off your chest….until something catches in your ear. It’s the quietest of whimpers, muffled and only when you see Jungkook’s shoulders begin to tremble do you realize he’s crying too.   He digs his face into his pillow, pulling his covers up over his head and you fall to the floor, leaning back at the foot of his bed.   It really sucks to be dead.   //   Yoongi would agree with your sentiment — if he knew you.   It sucked to be a wandering ghost, but even then it’s an understatement. He doesn’t get to haunt people and scare them or go around like Casper the Ghost. There was nothing exciting about being invisible to the people alive or having limited objects he could touch and interact with. But he doesn’t dwell on it too much.   What’s more pressing on his mind is that he knows he’s going to hell.   “Can you stop hovering over me?!” His mother shrieks and dusts off her shoulder furiously like there’s a pet cockroach perched on it.   “No.” Yoongi continues to hover beside her. “You can’t make me.”   “Go away!” She grieves, throwing down the tarot cards from her hands onto the clothed table. She appears absolutely psychotic as she screams and scolds to an empty space. But she knows he’s there. “Stop bothering me! Don’t you have something better to do?”   “Actually, I don’t,” he bites back, refusing to go elsewhere. The woman can’t exactly hear him, but feel his presence and read his aura. Even so, she is annoyed.   She gets up, moving past the beaded curtains and moving through the narrow halls. Her steps are heavy, body tired from constantly feeling him over her shoulder. It’s the pressure of an anchor.   “I have a client coming over soon. For the love of all things good, please stop haunting me, Yoongi. This is my last request to you.” She is begging and ranting to the empty air. “Didn’t you always want to move out? Why are you sticking next to me like gum? You’re not four-years old anymore. Let me work in peace!”   Yoongi is childish. Stubborn. He refuses, especially now that he hears a client is coming. It only provokes him, making his eyes narrow and he comes even closer. She mutters curses, a hand pressing on her forehead and decides it’s better to just ignore him. The woman grabs a binder off the shelf and marches into the main living space, right as the doorbell rings.   She opens it. Yoongi’s mom has erratic hair and although she has a sophisticated demeanor, she is very much witch-like. It makes the woman on the other side startled despite having met her before.   Still, that doesn’t stop her from giving the woman a warm hug. “Welcome! Welcome, come in, come in!”   “O-oh, thank you.”   “Don’t be shy!” she laughs. “What kind of tea would you like? Do you want any refreshments?”   “I-I’m fine, thank you.”   Yoongi leans back against the wall with his arms crossed. He watches the arrangement and how both get settled down across the table from each other. The black binder is opened and his crazy mother flips through the pages. The woman across from her is the first to pipe up.   “I want to apologize about how I acted last time.”   “Nonsense. I completely understand why someone might hesitate to do this.” She looks up at her with a sincere gaze and reaches over to put her hand over her’s. “You’re still in grief.”   The woman nods. “I thought it over like you said and I really…..just want her to have peace. I’m scared that she’s lonely.”   “I’m glad that you called me then. It’s my mission to make sure that everyone is matched up with someone suitable and that will give them happiness in the other word.”   Yoongi scoffs. It’s a bunch of bogus and bullshit. He despises her and her scamming career — a matchmaker for ghosts? What a joke. She’s hurting these people suffering in grief and it’s unforgivable.   “Thank you.”   “Don’t thank me yet.” She smiles and looks through her binder before slipping a paper out. Yoongi strolls over, dipping down to look over his mother’s shoulder. Her muscles seem to stiffen as if she can feel him right there, but he remains focused on the profile he sees.   Middle class family. Tragedy struck halfway through university years. Bus crash. It’s unfortunate, especially considering how young you were. Yoongi’s eyes skim over to the picture of just you, a headshot from high school, and he finds you fairly pretty when you have a smile on. It’s a shame you died so early on in your life.   “So I’ve taken a long look over your daughter’s profile...and I assessed other profiles in all my binders and I believe I’ve found a match.”   “Really?”   The exuberant woman throws the entire binder backwards onto the last page. She fiddles with the sheet protector and takes out the page, sliding it over the wooden table like a secret contract or Satan persuading a clueless human to sign their soul away.   “My own son!”   “Pardon?”   “WHAT?!” Yoongi goes pale. His jaw is slack, eyes bulging out from his sockets, mortified.   His mother laughs, feeling his aura turn into a furious red. “I’ve met many souls and I haven’t found a better match than now. They were around the same age when they passed away and you said your daughter was feisty, right?”   She stares at Yoongi’s picture — at how soft his features are and kind his smile is. He looks like a cute boy and a good son-in-law. “Yes.”   “Well, I know my son very well and he’s….lively too. They would be a couple who would challenge each other, but ultimately rise above. At least that’s what my intuition tells me.”   “No, no, no!” Yoongi is in hysterics and he’s shouting to no one. “Is this your ploy to try to get rid of me?! You’re marrying me off?! What the fuck is wrong with you?! You’re fucking sick!”   “He seems very hardworking,” your mom says after reading over his profile, noticing how many jobs he’s had, how he’s traveled around the world despite being at such a young age.   “Yes. He’s very particular and meticulous too. A very well-mannered boy…” when he wants to be, but she doesn’t add that on.   “Do you really think they’d go well together?”   “Well, I only really know once they meet.”   “Once they meet?”   “I can summon her into the room. Luckily, my son is already here.” She smiles, unbeknownst at how that very same son is ready to jump out the window and hope he can die a second time. “Would you like me to bring your daughter here?”   “S-sure.”   Yoongi is losing his mind. He can’t pay attention, slumped to the wall, sliding down to collapse on the floor. His hands are in his hair, shaking his head and in denial. In the meanwhile, his mother lights six candles and places out six cards, beginning a ritual. She murmurs bullshit underneath her breath and burns a picture of you to the candle beside her.   It goes up into flames, photo turning to ash.   Then, there’s a gust of wind.   Your mom is startled when the candles are blown out and Yoongi’s mother shuts her eyes tight, fingers rubbing against her temple. In the dimension they cannot see, there’s a mist and then a shrill scream. You’re pulled away from Jungkook’s classroom, surroundings warped and soul stolen away from your control.   You fall from the ceiling, landing on the carpet in a splat.   “What the fuck?!” You get up and Yoongi watches you in distaste as if observing spiders hatching from their eggs. You look around before your eyes meet.   He’s a random ass dude, rounded cheeks, brown eyes, reminding you of a cat with plush cheeks, but a stern stare. There’s also a woman in red robes, necklaces draped on her head on top of her untamed curly hair. Across from her and the tall candles is…..“Mom?!”   “She is here.”   “She is?” Your mom looks around into every corner. “Y/N?”   The woman hums. “She’s here. Standing right there.” She points right at you and you’re startled, barely managing to get to your feet.   “What the fuck. What’s going on?” you ask to no one in particular before turning towards Yoongi, noticing that he’s in the same state as you are. “Who are you?”   “Yoongi.” His deep voice rumbles against the walls and he wears an unimpressed expression as he scans you from head to toe.   “Can she see me?” You don’t look away from him, simply pointing to the woman.   “No. But she can feel you.”   “What?” You’re still flabbergasted, mind reeling and Yoongi feels just as numb. “What in the fucking hell….How?”   “She’s psychic.”   You’re befuddled, confused out of your mind. But the woman continues to speak. “I can feel her. She is….sad.”   “Sad?” Your mom’s eyes are rounded, brows knitting together, looking hurt and concerned.   Yoongi scoffs as his mother nods. “Deep sadness. You’re not taking care of yourself, are you? Neither is your younger son. She’s been following the both of you for some time now, watching over you.”   You’re surprised, taken back by her accuracy. Your mother also comes to cover her mouth with her hand, broken sobs tearing through her throat. “C-can I talk to her?” Once she’s gotten the signal to go ahead, she turns to the empty space, missing you, but still in the general vicinity of where you are. “Y/N, honey, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that you’re still worrying about me and Jungkook. But you don’t have to be worried about us anymore. We’ll be fine. Go on in peace, okay?”   A lump forms in your throat, keeping your words from spilling out.   “She won’t be alone anymore. They’ll be a good match.”   “What...is she talking about?” You look at Yoongi again, whispering, but the stranger doesn’t respond.   He appears defeated, knees propped up and arms openly rested on them.   “Y/N, you and my son are going to be wedded together,” the woman explains openly, answering your questions, “so neither of you have to be alone in the other world. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”   “Wait….what?!” Your reaction is similar to Yoongi, mouth dropping to the ground, eyes doubling. But you don’t fully understand the extent of what’s occurring — not as well as Yoongi does. He’s the one who’s truly devastated at this news. “I’m marrying you?!”   “Nice meeting you too,” he chuckles lifelessly.   You don’t appreciate his joke whatsoever.   “What in the ever living fuck?!”   “Hmm….I see it.” Yoongi’s mother bobs her head up and down, stuck in a trance as she stares at her ceiling. “They’re upset and angry.”   Your mom is immediately worried. “A-angry?”   “Damn fucking straight I’m angry!” You’re screaming and no one hears except Yoongi who covers his ears and scowls at your shrieking volume. “Since when am I getting married?!”   //   It’s unbelievable.   Even when you were alive, you questioned if you ever wanted to be married to someone. The thought of forever being tied down to another human being for the entirety of your life somehow brought a bitter taste in your mouth. You found everything and everyone annoying with enough time — surely, marriage didn’t suit you. But being married to a total stranger after you’re dead for eternity?!   This was some kind of living hell….and you couldn’t even escape via death by running into traffic.   “We have to find some way to stop this.”   “How?” Yoongi questions with a raised brow before scoffing. “We’re dead. It’s not like we can say anything.”   “You said she could sense us, right?” You chase after him in exasperation. “Can’t she tell that we’re against this?”   “She’s already made up her mind.” His gaze is firm, eyes cold and pinpointed on yours. “She won’t change it.”   “How do you know?”   “She’s my mom.” Yoongi turns on his heel one last time, challenging you to keep trying to test his patience, just so you’ll see what will happen. “The living has always been selfish, don’t you realize that? People will always be selfish. It doesn't matter that we’re dead. It doesn’t matter what we think. They don’t want us to rest in peace — they want their own comfort.”   You scoff, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently. “So you’re just going to let this happen?”   “There’s nothing else we can do,” Yoongi repeats himself. “And we’re dead, right? We’ll pass onto the other side eventually. Marriage is a human construct. It doesn’t matter anyways.”   “Yes, it does,” you persist. “It matters to me. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t even know who you are!”   “I don’t want to marry you either.” With that said, he makes his move, strolling off.   “W-where the hell are you going?!”   “Away. Fuck off.”   You scoff, not bothering to chase after him anymore. “What an asshole.”   “I heard that!”   “Good!” You shriek after him childishly, repeating yourself and making it loud and clear. “You’re an asshole, you know that?!”   His voice becomes fainter, but you still hear his spiteful insults. “You’re an annoying bitch.”   “What the fuck did you just say? Get back here! You coward! Yoongi!”   You’re left breathless and defeated, fists crumpled together and face twisted in anger. A scream of his name comes out of you one more time before you’re left in silence with no choice but to collect yourself and pick up the remains of your diminishing sanity. You don’t know who he is or who he thinks he is — but you’ll never marry a bastard like him.   Before you can stomp off, the psychic lady who brought you into this mess enters through the doorway. She pushes the beaded curtains away and stops several meters away from where you’re standing, staring at the space you occupy as if she can feel your presence. It’s astounding how similar she looks to her son, rounded cheeks and cat-like eyes, only older and with untamed hair.   “Hello. I’m Min Chaerin. It’s nice to meet you.” There’s a pause. “I know you’re upset.”   “That’s an understatement,” you spit out, even if she can’t hear you.   “I promise you I’m not scamming your mother. I don’t know what Yoongi might’ve told you, but this is my job. I’m a matchmaker for the dead and I help the living with their grief. He never respected my profession when he was alive and I’m sure he still doesn’t respect it while he’s dead. He’s always hanging around on my shoulder to tell me that...But rest assured, I don’t have harmful intentions….”   She walks off slightly as if trying to get closer, but she misses you by a few inches, staring off towards the painting of sunflowers. “I know you might not want this, but I believe it can help you too. You’re scared of passing, aren’t you? I can sense it.”   You have no idea what this lady is going on about.   “You’re wrong.”   And within seconds, you vanish into thin air. Your aura disappears and Yoongi’s mother sighs, finally left alone in her own peace.   //   It doesn’t take long for Jungkook to find out what happens. On his way home from school, he looks through the mailbox and when he finds it empty, he goes through his mom’s bag to see if she picked up anything important. Instead, he finds a manila envelope and upon turning it the wrong way, the thin sheets of paperwork slide out onto the table, along with your profile and Yoongi’s.   It’s enough for him to go berserk.   “What is this?”   “What are you talking about?”   “This.” The high-schooler whips the papers around in his hands, his boyish features scrunched into wrath and giving him premature wrinkles. “You’re marrying Y/N off to some dead guy?!”   “Jungkook…” your mom approaches with an outstretched, gentle hand. “....sit down.”   “Don’t touch me!” He shoves her back, causing the older woman to stumble, gasping. “This...this is disgusting!”   He screams like it physically pains him, like he’s appalled by his own mother; like he is grossed out by himself and how he’s laid hands on his mom, how he’s losing control of his emotions completely. He feels disgusted by everyone and his own hands. “Why don’t you just let her rest in peace?! Why do you have to do this?! Why is this necessary?!”   “Jungkook.” Her eyes plead with his. “I don’t want your sister to be alone—”   “Do you think she would want this?!” he cries out, tears streaming down his face without him even realizing. Seldom has he been so openly upset. “Do you really think Y/N would want to get married?!”   “I can’t bear the thought that she’s alone!” she finally shouts back at him, breaking down and slumping on the floor as if begging for repentance. “I can’t sleep at night. I can’t eat. I keep thinking about it...how I...I should’ve been the one to die instead.”   The fatigued woman beats her chest as she sobs. The last thing she ever wanted in this world was to bury her own child. “She never got the chance to love, to live, to be happy…..I am her mom and I couldn't even protect her. I...I don’t want her to be lonely!”   “She’s dead. So let her die.” Jungkook’s fists shake and he throws the papers to the ground, coating the cold floorboards in white. “You talk to her picture when you get home, you put food out for her like she’s still alive. I was the one who had to clean out her stuff! I was the one who had to do all the funeral arrangements. And you think doing something like this will make you feel better?!”   The woman calls out to him, repeating her son’s name on his clips, crying for the old child she has left. But Jungkook is cold and his gaze is full of disdain. “Why don’t you just let her die already?!”   He stomps hard enough to bruise his own feet. The door slams, hinges trembling. The two of them cry in different rooms, tears that dissolve the bindings that held this home together. This time, you stay with your mom on the floor. Knees gathered and leaning against the wall, you watch as she weeps into her hands. From the corner of the room, someone passes through the furniture, another ghost that wanders in. It’s not Yoongi or a stranger, but Holly.   He doesn’t bark or yelp for your attention, merely approaching, sensing your sorrows. He curls up in your lap and you accept his affections, holding him close. You cry with your mom and she never knows that you’re right beside her.   //   “Marry me.”   “No.”   “Please, Yoongi?” You never thought you’d resort to begging and it’s beginning to take a hit to your pride. “I promise I’ll make you the happiest man ever.”   If looks could kill, you’d be lowered into your grave for a second time. His glare is cold, eyes cat-like and made of ice. But it doesn’t deter you for a second. “Over my dead body.”   “You said it didn't matter! We’re dead, marriage is a human construct, sound familiar?”   “Doesn’t mean I’d agree.” Yoongi isn’t even a bit curious as to why you’ve changed your mind so quickly. He truly doesn’t give a shit about you.   “Your mom’s going to delay the marriage if she knows we’re still upset over it. I don’t want it to be delayed. If you accept now, we can get it done and over with. Then we can be out of each other’s way.”   “I don’t think you understand something, kid.” Yoongi sits up from the bed, craning his neck to lock his eyes with yours. “Marriage is a human construct, yes. But a spirit marriage is different. We��ll be bounded together. Tied.”   “So?”   “I don’t want to be connected to you in any way.”   “Oh, fuck you too then.” Your fist balls up. He has the most punchable face in existence. “Listen here, Min. I don’t know who you think you fucking are, but let me make this clear to you. I don’t want to marry you, alright? Not in any way. Shape. Or form. I’m doing this for my mom, alright? The quicker our marriage happens, the quicker she can move on with her life.”   You want peace for your mom and for her to have an eased mind, even if it means you have to go through with this stupid thing. This….this marriage means nothing in the grand scheme of things. When it comes to your family — Jungkook and your mom — you’ll do anything that you have to.   But to your dismay, Yoongi scoffs and lays back down. “Yeah, no thanks. Go ask some other ghost to help you out.”   “Fuck you!” you shout at an ear-splitting volume and he grimaces, covering his ears. “I didn’t want to marry you anyway!”   With the last word in, you trample out. Rather than vanishing, you make sure to physically trample out as loud as you can so he can hear. Half of you expects Yoongi to run out of his room and accept your proposal and you would whip around with a curt ‘damn straight’. But of course not.   Instead, you end up marching into the main living area, right as there’s some meeting going on.   There’s a boy sitting at the round table next to a girl, in the middle of a union being discussed. The two of them look up at you and even Yoongi’s mother becomes startled at your presence, stopping mid-sentence to look around the space you’re in. The only person who is clueless is the affluent woman with pearls around her wrinkled neck.   “A-are you alright?” The old woman’s vision strays to where the shamaness is staring. “Is...is there something there?”   “N-no. It’s alright. It’s nothing.”   “Sorry for interrupting,” you mumble and duck your head. The two ghosts don’t respond and you go out quieter, exiting the house in embarrassment. Before you can take a sigh of relief though, one glance to your left and you're nearly scared to death.   “Holy fuck! You scared me!”   There’s a young female ghost staring into the window. She’s startled when she sees you, inhaling a sharp breath. “I’m so sorry!”   And before you can ask any questions, she disappears, body dissipating in front of your very eyes.   “What in the ever living hell.” You’ve never met so many ghosts before. This house was definitely haunted….   With a sigh, you’re on your way, walking across the lawn before you realize what you’re even doing and you spin around. “Is he really not coming out?!”   Goddammit.   With zero shame, you march back in, interrupting the meeting for a second time. The two ghosts watch with wide eyes, and even Yoongi’s mom hitches her breath for a moment, stopping mid-sentence yet again. But there’s no time for any more apologies.   You pass through the walls until you’re in Yoongi’s bedroom again. He’s still in the same palace where you left him two minutes ago — laying in the single bed on top of the train-printed blue bed sheets, staring up at his ceiling.   You never got a good look the first time around. His childhood bedroom is quite cute and cozy. There are knick-knacks on top of the wardrobe and on the shelves, toy cars and superhero figurines with pictures of his younger self that are cuter than you’d like to admit. The music posters on his walls and the stack discs are traces of his teenage years. But his room is fairly neat and organized, empty even, as if he had cleaned up before moving out and didn’t have plans of coming back.   “Fuck off, will you?” Yoongi drags a hand over his face, ignoring the way you’re standing with your hands on your hips, glaring down at him like you’re a disapproving mother.   “No, you.”   “Real mature,” he chides, less angry and with a speck of amusement in his low voice.   “Why are you fighting against me? I thought you already accepted this?”   “I thought you didn’t want to marry me,” he throws right back at you, using his words like a boomerang.   “I changed my mind.”   “Then I changed my mind too.” There’s a ghost of a smirk on his mouth and you release a frustrated exhale, holding back on throttling Min Yoongi to the ground like your instincts are telling you to do.   “Just agree, goddammit! You’re lazing around anyway!” Your arms shoot up, motioning to how he’s lounging on his bed with his arms folded underneath his head like he’s sunbathing on some beach. “We have no choice either way. Like you said, your mom’s going to go through with it — so better now than later!”   “Hmmm….” Yoongi pretends to consider it. You want to strangle him so bad and it’s not like there’s a ghost police to arrest you either. The only thing is...he can’t die a second time and you really can’t afford pissing someone off bad enough that they’ll enact revenge on you. “Let me think about it…...okay…..”   “Okay?!” Your eyes widen in excitement, lips beginning to draw upwards.   “Okay, I’m thinking about it,” he corrects with a shit-eating grin. Your own mouth falls into a straight line and he turns his head to stare at you. “No.”   “Fuck you, mommy’s boy!”   “What did you just call me?” Instead of being offended, Yoongi is even more amused. Your insults keep having a reversed effect on him and it’s driving you crazy.   “A mommy’s boy!” you scream at him indignantly. “You still live with your mom! And she told me you’re always perched on her shoulder like some kind of bird! You obviously got mommy attachment issues!”   He scoffs, finding it utterly ridiculous to the point that it’s humorous. “Are you done?”   “Yes!” you exclaim and his grin widens, having not expected an actual answer.   You’re absolutely humiliated from having your proposal rejected. You’ve been slapped across the face by his apathy too. There’s nothing you can do, but stomp out for the hundredth time. Yoongi yells something that you better not come back to bother him, though the pair of you are perfectly aware you’ll come back sooner or later.   But luckily for you, you’re not interrupting the meeting for the third time. The wealthy lady as well as Yoongi’s mom are outside, ending their long conversation together. The female ghost seems to have gone too. There’s only the male left, standing at the window and staring out at the front lawn.   Your steps slow, tired from being angry.   The tall male turns slightly from his spot. “Umm….hi.”   “Hi.” It’s awkward. You didn’t expect to be stopped by the ghost and you’re especially taken back by how handsome he is, even with the sickly colour of his skin that every dead being seems to have. There’s something mischievous about the way he looks and carries himself as if his youth hasn’t quite passed on yet despite his body being gone.   “Are you getting married too?”   It’s complicated — but with a clenched jaw, you answer in determination, “Yes.”   “Cool.” His smile is sweet. “I’m Taehyung. You are?”   “A ghost.”   Taehyung bursts out laughing, mouth moving in a slightly boxy shape as his eyes crinkle. “Same.”   You haven’t talked to a lot of others since you’re passing. Aside from Yoongi, this has been the only interaction you’ve had. You act like you don’t care and most of the time you don’t, but you didn’t realize how much you missed interacting with someone else, having them see you as you see them.   “My mom’s marrying me off,” Taehyung tells you, looking out the window towards the lady in the driveway. A wistful sigh leaves the seams of his parted lips. “She says it’s for me, but I think it’s really more for her….so she can get a sense of peace.”   You feel him on a spiritual level and you’re a few centimeters away from giving him a pat on the back.   Dead laughter streams out his chest, never reaching his eyes. He murmurs his thoughts like he’s speaking to himself, “She’s controlling even after death. Can’t escape an arranged marriage, huh? Till death do us part, my ass.”   You snort. “Tell me about it.”   Before anymore can be said, something catches the corner of your eyes again; but you’re more prepared and not so startled. Your head turns and you find the ghost once more. This time she’s standing in some bushes on the side of the lawn and you wonder if she’s some sort of stalker.   Your forehead nearly passes through the glass of the window and a muscle in your cheek twitches as your eyes narrow. Her vision is pinpointed on the male beside you, but once she finds you looking right at her, her sad expression becomes surprised and she vanishes again.   “Huh.”   “What is it?”   “There.” You point off and Taehyung shifts. “But she’s gone again.”   His brows furrow. “Who?”   “I don’t know.” You shrug. “Some girl who was looking through the window earlier. She scared the living daylights out of me…..” You smile at your own joke.   Taehyung doesn’t laugh. “W-what did she look like?”   “Short hair. Almond eyes. About...this tall.” Your hand juts out, matching the height you remember and suddenly, there’s a ripple of recognition that comes across Taehyung’s beautiful features.   “Yeonmi?”   “You know her?” Your eyes move to look at him, but Taehyung is preoccupied, staring into the distance with a slack jaw, a frown marring his visage. “Hey! Where are you going?”   The ghost jogs straight through the wall, away to the garden and out of sight.   You sigh. Goddammit. You were just about to ask him to marry you too. But they always run, don’t they?   In life or death, you’ll never be popular.   //   She is heavy, weighed down. It’s an inch on her back that she can’t reach, a tickle at the nape of her neck. Goosebumps erupt and the hair on her arms raise all over her flesh. No matter where she saunters off to, she constantly feels like she’s being watched. “Min Yoongi, if you do not leave me alone, I will exorcise you from this house.”   He scoffs. “No, you wouldn’t.”   Yoongi’s mom washes her dishes at the sink, scrubbing her plates with passion as if trying to release her annoyance on the porcelain. “You can hate me all you want, boy. But at the end of the day, you’re hurting yourself more than anyone.”   He watches her in silence and he can’t find it in himself to disagree. Yoongi does hate his mother. He hates what she believes in and stands for, resents how he never felt her love while growing up, despises how she plays with others’ grief. But he can’t argue or throw tantrums. So he’s made a resolve to never stop plaguing the woman and making her life miserable.   The middle-aged woman’s hands halt on scrubbing. The sponge falls to the bottom of the sink and she turns to her right where he’s hovering, feeling the pressure of his aura that’s increasing in intensity. Yet, instead of being bothered, a long exhale is released from her lungs.   “Yoongi,” she calls him gently with sad eyes. “You’re lonely….aren’t you? That girl that I matched you with, she can help you. You can help her. The both of you are similar in more ways than one, I feel it.”   Yoongi doesn’t want to hear any of it. It’s the first time he admits defeat and walks off. But his mother has his persistence and wipes her hands quickly on a tea towel to follow him as he drifts away. “If you trust me this once. If you believe in me and my work this one time, then you’ll see I’m not wrong. She will help you to peace and you will help her, I am certain of it.”   “I don’t want peace,” he responds calmly, but she can’t hear him.   “You didn’t believe me when I said I could sense ghosts.” She stops and his own feet halt. An extended inhale is taken through her lips. “And now you’re on the other side, you know I wasn’t lying. Why do you think I’d be lying about this? Stop being so cynical and skeptical for once and trust me.”   “I won’t marry her.”   Yoongi disappears, dissipating from his spot. His mother sighs, losing sight of his soul and she returns to the kitchen to finish her chores, mumbling incessantly about her good for nothing son.   In the meanwhile, half across the city in a tiny home, you’re bored out of your mind.   “Hey…..” You’re curled up on the armchair, leaning over to the wooden desk. “Are you going to do anything exciting any time soon?”   “Go, go, go,” Jungkook mutters excitedly with his pupils wide, fingers tapping on the keyboard like his life depends on it. This is the most lively you’ve seen him in the past few months.   “Don’t you have any homework to do, brat?” you nag him even if he can’t hear you. “What about your history assignment? If your grade drops even more, the school’s gonna call mom and you’re gonna be in a world of trouble. Since when did you become so irresponsible? I’ll throw your computer away!”   Jungkook continues to game in the dark. He has no life. No friends.   But at least he’s not watching porn. You wouldn’t be able to stick around for that — you’d probably have to poke your eyeballs out and jump on to oncoming traffic. Still, you didn’t know your dork of a younger brother could get any lamer. He’s been playing all day, eating chips instead of having a real dinner, hasn’t showered at all….god, if only you could give him a noogie.   Suddenly, there’s a whisper in your ear, hot breath skimming on your skin— “Boo.”   “AHHHHHHHH!” You’re scared to death, chilled to the bone, nearly falling out of the plush armchair. Your hand is over your chest, an absence of any heartbeat underneath your palm. “Wh-what the fuck is wrong with you?!”   Yoongi is laughing like the little shit that he has. There’s a gummy grin plastered on his face, the biggest goddamn smile you’ve ever seen on him. “Are you scared of ghosts?”   “Shut up! How the fuck did you find me?!”   His hands are digging into his pants pockets, lips pouted. The only light is from Jungkook’s computer screen, the white hue casting a soft glow on your skin. Yoongi leans against the wall and stares at you. “It wasn’t hard looking for your address when my mom’s written a thousand details about you from your mom. I thought you’d be here….turns out I was right.”   You get up, blocking his view from Jungkook. “Get out. Go away.”   But he doesn’t move, merely tilting himself and jutting his chin at the boy seated in the chair that you’re being protective of. “That your boyfriend?”   “Ew. That’s my brother, you idiot.”   “And you’re calling me a mommy’s boy for following my mom around?”   “Shut the hell up.” You walk through the wall into the kitchen where your brother left on several dim lights. Yoongi follows you out where you can both talk without the noise of guns firing and bullets spraying. “What are you doing here? Did you change your mind?”   “Not particularly.” He shrugs. “I was bored?”   “You were….bored?”   “Yup. My mom was annoying me with her nagging and I have no one else to bother except you.”   “Wow. I’m so honoured,” you deadpan with an unimpressed expression. Yoongi smiles softly, the corners of his mouth curving and his skin bathes in the warm light of the standing lamp. It brings a lump to your throat, but you ignore it. “Did you at least think about it?”   “My answer hasn’t changed.”   “So if I got down onto one knee right now and proposed, you wouldn’t accept?”   “I’d be amused,” he says as if it’ll make you feel any better. It doesn’t.   Yoongi takes a long moment to look around your house. Your home is small and sad, falling apart, though he never makes any comments on it. It makes you uncomfortable that he’s prying into your private family life, looking at the pictures and how you lived when you were still alive. But you guess it’s fair he takes a look around considering you’ve been to his house and bedroom a number of times now.   “Listen—”   “Hello?”   He’s interrupted by another voice, deeper and growly.   A ghoul emerges from the white wall, floating and pale.   Yoongi yells. You scream. The two of you stumble back, scared at wit’s end.   The ghost’s eyes are big and he spits out apologies for not making any noise beforehand. At the presence of a new guest, you blink thrice. “T-Taehyung?! What are you doing here?!”   “I was looking for you and I followed him here.” He points to Yoongi and the latter man recognizes him as one of the clients. They’ve seen each other briefly before, though never exchanging more than a slight nod of acknowledgment.   You turn towards Yoongi, glaring at him for leading ghosts into your house. You’re the only one who should be haunting this place. He doesn’t say anything, solely putting his hands up like it wasn’t his fault and you sigh, turning to the taller ghost. “What do you want from me?”   “I need your help. That girl you saw before. Yeonmi.”   “What about her?”   “I want to marry her.”   You exchange a look with Yoongi. What the hell?   //   Apparently he’s been searching for this girl desperately, going to every place that he could think of only to come up short each and every time. But you’ve seen her….twice.   “How am I supposed to find her, Taehyung?” You don’t know anything about this girl. It was all a coincidence. You only saw her because she was following him. For all he knows, she could be right under his nose.   You decide to shun him, but his desperate beginning continues. Yoongi bids farewell, making it clear that this isn’t his problem. He’s an idiot if he thinks you’re about to let Taehyung pester your family, so you follow him while Taehyung follows you. It’s a conga line — not of dancing, but of haunting each other.   “Please, please, please, Y/N. Help me.”   “I can’t.”   “Can you two be quiet? I’m trying to rest.”   “You’re dead.” You hover over Yoongi’s body that’s laid on his bed again, flat on his back with his arms to his side like he’s a vampire in a coffin. “You don’t need rest.”   “Haven’t you heard the saying ‘I’ll sleep when I’m dead?’ I’m following through with it.”   “I love her.” Taehyung drops down to his knees. It’s difficult to ignore him and you shift on your feet uncomfortably. “We knew each other since we were kids and we dated for a while, but then we broke up and I….I still love her. I still think about her. I didn’t know she was still here.”   “What would it take for me to marry you?” you ask Yoongi. “Do you want a dowry?”   “I can’t take anything with me when I go to hell.”   “You’re already in hell.”   The corner of his lip lifts into a smirk. “If you’re here, I’m definitely in hell.”   “Wow, bitch. Be like that.”   Taehyung swallows hard and his rumbling voice drops down into a whisper, “She’s the one I want. No one else.”   You stop, lips falling into a straight line, turning to look down at Taehyung. You take a seat, leaning against the wall with your knees propped up. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open, staring up at his ceiling and Taehyung continues to weep with his head downcasted. Aside from the ghost’s soft sobs, the three of you linger in the silence.   “I don’t know how I can help you. I...really don’t.”   “Y-You’ve seen her before.”   “That was by coincidence.”   “She won’t let me talk to her. She’s running away….but if I could just...if I could just tell her I’m still in love with her….”   You turn your head towards your supposed fiancé. “You should make yourself useful, Yoongi.”   “Die.”   “I’m already dead,” you spit at him, serious and no longer joking around. “I get if you don’t want to marry me. But shouldn’t we at least help someone out who wants to get married? I can’t do this by myself….please?”   There’s an extended moment of silence.   It draws on and on.   You continue to stare at Yoongi.   He sighs.   “......you’re so goddamn annoying.” He gets up and you smile. Taehyung is relieved, looking at both you and Yoongi with a grateful gaze, but your fiancé tells him not to be thankful yet.   //   Yoongi searches through his mother’s profiles. He can’t pick things up from the shelf, but luckily no one in his family has ever been particularly neat. There are things sprawled out in organized messes and he uses the wind to flutter the pages back and forth, searching for the girl’s picture.   You’re on lookout duty, keeping an eye out and following Taehyung closely. She could be anywhere, but you caught her following Taehyung, so there must be something she has to say to him or at least there’s something she wants to do. You suspect her last wish is what’s holding her back.   “Is she in the binders?”   “I’m still looking.” Yoongi flips through and Taehyung tries to help, looking over his shoulder. Yoongi becomes a little uncomfortable and finally understands what his mom feels constantly when he’s hovering over her. Nonetheless, hours pass until—…“found her.”   Yoongi’s mother is humming a song underneath her breath. After a long day, she’s finally able to wind down and relax. The older woman is stretching her shoulders, patting the skincare cream into her cheeks as she prepares for bed. She’s walking over, ready to slip into her toasty covers, but then freezes mid-step, chills sweeping up her spine. She cranes her neck over and souls emerge from the walls.   “Y/N? And...Yoongi.” A grin pulls onto her face. “What a lovely surprise. It’s nice to see you two together. Have you changed your minds—?”   She’s cut off when you’re accompanied by a third.. “Who is this?” The woman squints as the tips of her fingertips tingle. She feels the air around her and stands straight. “I recognize you….you’re that young man from a week ago...Kim….Taehyung….I’m right, aren’t I?”   “Yes, I am!” he chirps, confirming her belief, but she can’t hear.   Yoongi apathetically waves his hand into the air and the slip of paper comes out from beneath the door. Her eyes stray off and when she walks over, she bends down to pick it up. “Park Yeon….mi? This is a girl from a while ago…..”   Yoongi’s mother is confused, but Taehyung approaches confident and firm. “I want to marry her.”   “What do you want me to do with this?” she asks and looks towards the spaces you occupy. Her intuition sings to her and she is quick-witted, catching on fast. “Perhaps...you want to marry this girl, Taehyung?”   His aura morphs into a bright yellow, confirming her suspicion. She sighs. “I don’t know if your mother will accept this. We’ve already agreed to have you with another girl….” Taehyung begins to pour out his protests. Yoongi scowls, turning away. But you stay in your spot, trusting in the woman. She inhales and nods. “But….I’ll see what I can do.”   You smile, full of relief. Even Yoongi appears surprised, shifting slightly with a lifted brow.   But even with things going smoothly, you’re on alert. If possible, you want to get to the girl before she’s summoned.   “I don’t know what my mom will say,” Taehyung admits nervously. “She wasn’t ever approving of our relationship…”   “Well, there’s nothing we can do. They’ll take it from here,” Yoongi brushes off. “You can only hope for the best.”   “I guess….” The three of you walk down the hall, making your way across the manor and back to Yoongi’s bedroom. You wonder if he died in his bed since he has such a damn attachment to being in that same spot. It’s practically his coffin.   “Do you have nowhere else to be? Are you going to keep bothering me the entire day?”   Taehyung pouts. “It’s not like I have anything else to do.”   You trail after the pair of them until something passes through the wall. A small animal with stubby legs causes you to stop. “Holly?”   The puppy yelps in response and the two males are too caught up in their banter to notice that you’re left behind. They walk through the doorways, disappearing from sight and you lower yourself to the poodle. The ball of fluff has his tail wagging, happy to see you and a smile itches up your lips. “What is it?”   Your arms extend, about to pick Holly up, but he jumps back and totters the way he came. You frown and he spins back to look at you as if asking for you to come along. You follow the puppy, passing through the walls until you’re outside and you hear tinkling giggles.   “You’re back, puppy?” a light voice sing-songs and you step into the sunlight.   The girl you’re looking for is sitting meters away in the garden. “Yeonmi?”   She gasps, eyes wide and looking up at you. “Um...is this your dog?”   You glance down at Holly. “Yeah…I guess...”   “I’m sorry.” She stands, smoothing out the floral print of her dress and nervously tucking a strand of her hair behind her ears. “I didn’t know. I-uh…”   “Wait. Don’t go.” Your hand is extended and you force yourself to remain calm. “Please, listen to what I have to say.” Her teeth sink into her trembling bottom lip and she takes a glimpse over your shoulder. You reassure the girl, “He doesn’t know you’re here. Don’t worry.”   After a beat, she nods, deciding to trust you. The both of you take a seat on the bench, watching Holly wandering around the gardens, teetering from side to side as he circles butterflies and the tulip flowers growing with weeds and untamed grass in between.   “I’ll cut to the chase.” You’ve never been good at sugar coating things or easing in. It’s better to lay it on flat. “Taehyung wants to marry you.”   “W-what?” She is astounded and blinks hard. You’re endeared by how sweet her personality seems and how pretty she is. She’s soft-spoken, but her eyes are bright and despite being dead, they have life within them. “I-I thought he was marrying someone else!”   You shake your head. “He went looking for me to try to search for you. He still loves you...a lot...enough to bother me even after I told him to get lost.”   “I…” Yeonmi toys with the hem of her dress, wrinkling the chiffon fabric in her hands as she bunches it up. “I was the one who broke up with him all those years ago. I broke his heart. I didn’t mean to….I just want him to be happy….and I thought this time, he’d finally be with someone who deserves him.”   You watch her, the way regret has etched itself through her thoughts, words and actions. “I don’t deserve him.”   “That’s bullshit and you know it.” You turn fully to her, almost angry at her reasoning. “Look. You’re dead, alright? There’s no changing that. You’re dead. I’m dead. There’s no point of having regrets now. Don’t make up excuses, okay? If you don’t want to marry him, then say so because there’s nothing stopping you now except for yourself and your insecurities.”   She blinks hard, taken back by your bluntness. “I….”   “Do you love him?”   Yeonmi looks into her lap and she confesses, “I do.”   “He loves you.”   You don’t get it. It’s so simple. Why can’t love and romance be straightforward?   “But I just can’t do that to him,” she whispers. “To throw him away and then take him back again. Taehyung doesn’t deserve that.”   “That doesn’t matter to me.” A voice interrupts out of the blue and the ghost materializes from the wall.   “Jesus, motherfucker! Oh my god! You almost killed me!” For the millionth time, you’re nearly scared to death at his appearance, a hand put over your chest out of reflex. Yoongi follows after the taller male, strolling into the scene with a smirk. You really wish these ghosts would stop sneaking up on you. “How did you find me? I thought you didn’t notice.”   “You were gone.” Yoongi shrugs with pouty lips. “Of course, I would notice.”   Unlike you, Yeonmi isn’t startled or fazed. Both her and Taehyung ignore you and Yoongi, stuck in a small bubble of only them, locked gazes that make the moment all too intimate. She stands and begins to back away. “T-Taehyung….”   “Please don’t run from me,” he begs her with saddened eyes. “Not again.”   “I...I’m sorry.”   “I love you!” He shouts before she can vanish in front of him. Taehyung’s fists crumple and he doesn’t back down to what he’s been thinking about for the past several years, the thoughts that have been plaguing him day and night, regrets that he lived and died with. “I still love you, even after all this time….I haven’t stopped thinking about you, even after you died.”   A ripple of sadness strikes across her features until she’s shattered, breaking down into sobs and rubbing at her eyes with the back of her hands. “I...I broke your heart.”   “You did. But that never once changed how I felt about you.”   It’s sappy and you’re eating it all up. While you’re standing back and next to Yoongi, you watch the beautiful moment like it’s part of The Notebook. “Y-You don’t care that I hurt you?”   Taehyung shakes his head. “You’re my best friend — you’ll always be. And I can’t imagine marrying anyone other than my best friend.”   “Taehyung…”   “I don’t want to marry anyone else. I want you. I will always choose you.”   Yeonmi is the one who steps forward, taking three strides to close the distance between their forms. His arms are stretched and they wrap around her waist. They embrace each other, holding one another close and she cries into his chest and he digs his nose into her hair.   “I never thought I’d get to see you again.” He laughs tearfully, staring up at the white clouds in the sky that’s oblivious to them. “When you died….when you died…”   “I never left.”   “We didn’t get to spend our lives together, but we can spend eternity together,” he murmurs to her and when the words melt your own heart, you realize what a sucker you are for this kind of thing.   You lean over to Yoongi. “What he said.”   His chuckles are muffled and there’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, making Yoongi look younger than he usually does. “Your attempts at proposing are getting worse and worse.”   “Would it ruin the mood if I dropped down to one knee right now?”   “I’d walk away without looking back.”   You scoff, the two of you whispering back and forth to each other. “You already do that.”   Usually watching a couple blissfully in love would make you feel somewhat bitter and you’d become cynical, knowing that it wouldn’t last and imagining them breaking up and being better off alone. But knowing Taehyung and speaking to Yeonmi, you have a sense that this is meant to be.   And you don’t feel so lonely when Yoongi is right beside you.   //   There’s only one thing left. Everything on the side of death has been reconciled. Now you wait for the side of the living.   “W-what do you mean?” Taehyung’s mother is confused, baffled, and her brows are furrowed deep.   “He came to me and he told me who he really wanted to be with.” She slides the paper over the table. “Do you know her?”   The woman gasps, hand lifting to cover her mouth. Sobs choke out of her throat and she glances up at the shamaness. “Ye-Yeonmi…? But...I...I…” She never once approved when they were both living.   “It’s what he wants,” she conveys the message. “He’s always loved her.”   The words are spoken with truthful sincerity and even Taehyung’s mother knows it.   For minutes, it is silent. Both Yeonmi and Taehyung are seated across from each other, nervous and patient for her response. Would she still disapprove after his death? Even after his last request?   You observe the way a multitude of emotions washes over her face and after an extended moment, she puts the paper down, peeling her eyes off of the deceased female. If Taehyung’s mother even had a trace of skepticism towards Yoongi’s mother, she doesn’t have any anymore.   “If that’s what he wants…” A wistful smile graces her visage. “Who am I to say no?”   It takes one single sentence to hurl the two of them from worry to happiness. They grin at each other, reaching over the table to hold one another’s hands. You’re standing beside Yoongi, leaning against the wall and watching with a smile.   It doesn’t take long. Their pictures are brought together and Taehyung’s mom brings a photograph from home as well, an image of them when they were still children. The ritual begins and you help Yeonmi doll up, twisting her hair, albeit awkwardly, but she still appreciates it.   They sit together in front of Yoongi’s mother, candles lit all around. Taehyung’s mother sits back with you and Yoongi. The shamaness murmurs incantations, letting a warm breeze sweep over the room as the pages in her books begin to flip. Yoongi seems bored, full of distaste, but you make him stay to watch. Deep down, you’re a sucker for sappy things and you can’t help but clap when it’s all done.   The pair of them are overjoyed, content smiles pressed against each other when they kiss one another, trying their best not to giggle when they seal their bonds. They hold hands, fingers interlaced as he teases her for the way her kisses have gotten sloppy.   Yoongi’s mother senses their bliss and tells Taehyung’s mom — the latter woman which has her own content smile, satisfied when the weight of her regrets and part of her grief are off her shoulders. The old woman nods and tears spring from her eyes, crying from happiness.   Taehyung holds his mother without her knowing.   Peace is brought and when it’s all over, you swear Yoongi’s mom turns around to look at you, gratitude present in her smile.   “What are your plans now?” you ask the newlywed pair, trying your best to not let your jealousy show. While marriage never appealed to you, you’ve always wanted to be as happy as they appear. “Going on any honeymoon?”   “Actually…..” she glances at Taehyung. “We...we talked about it…”   He squeezes her hand comfortingly. “And we think we’re going to cross.”   “Cross?” Your brows shoot to your hairline. “Y-you don’t want to stay here at least a bit longer? You can’t come back if you cross over. It’s a one-way ticket!”   “We know. But there’s nothing for us here anymore.” The corners of his mouth lifts, doting gaze redirected to his wife.   “We already have what we want,” she reassures and exchanges loving grins with her husband.   “Well…” Yoongi rolls his shoulders, getting rid of the tension that appeared while he was watching the ceremony. He lazily nods and waves them off. “If that’s what you’ve decided…”   You flash a frown in his direction, unable to understand why he’s telling them to go for it.   But it’s ultimately their choice and you know you can’t stop them if they’ve already made up their minds. If they finished all the things they want to do on this Earth, then there’s really no point in being here. “We really can’t thank you enough.”   “If it weren’t for you, this idiot would still be standing in the bushes and stalking me.” He laughs, flicking her forehead and causing giggles to bubble from her chest.   “Stop, don’t remind me! It’s embarrassing.”   Taehyung grins, ginormous smile plastered on his face, and looks off at you two. “I hope I wasn’t too annoying. Thank you, Y/N. Thank you, Yoongi. And tell your mother I said thank you too.”   “I’m sure she knows,” he grumbles.   “We’ll see you on the other side?” Taehyung asks, knowing that it’s not goodbye forever, or at least that’s what he hopes.   You’re a bit uncomfortable, unable to give a definitive answer, but Yoongi nods again. “Maybe. Have a safe trip, you two.”   “We will.” They laugh, walking off together down the street, hand-in-hand. It’s their last stroll together before crossing. You stare at their backsides, how their shoulders are weightless, having fewer regrets than before.   You wonder if that’ll ever be you someday. It scares you to think about it.   //   The strip of paper flutters in the air back and forth, rolling around in the air like it’s a piece of confetti that was just popped in the midst of a celebration. You’re sitting on the ground, slumped against the wall, playing with the feather-light piece of white paper and watching it twirl back and forth. You wish you could touch and maneuver heavier things or fiddle around with other objects. You already have invisibility down — if you had other powers, there would be no limits to what you could do.   But at the end of the day, you’re not a superhero.   You’re just a ghost wandering the planet.   There’s shuffling across the small room. Yoongi rolls onto his side, arm dropping over the edge of his mattress, his lethargic gaze pinpointed on you. The strip of paper floats to the carpet, your attention preoccupied on him. You look at him. He looks at you. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes and you wonder if he’s sleeping with his eyes open.   “Why are you so quiet?”   “‘M not.” You’ve been hanging out with Yoongi more frequently. When you’re not, you’re following Jungkook and your mom as usual. But nothing’s changed with them — they still haven’t been talking to each other, your mom still grieving, your brother down in the dumps. It makes you feel bad and guilty watching them all the time. It’s a nice change to stop haunting them for a while. If guarding them is your main job, then Yoongi is your break.   And while it’s hard to admit, you enjoy his company. Sometimes nothing needs to be said and you bask in the comfortable silence, lingering in one another’s presence. Nothing feels too awkward anymore.   “You are.” He blinks tiredly, sounding almost concerned. “You’re always yapping off into one of my ears.”   “Fuck off, Yoongi.” You twirl your finger and the tiny paper begins to drift again.   “No, seriously. What’s up?” he asks again, persisting. “You’re weirding me out and I can’t rest properly when I’m thinking about you.”   You’re not sure what to tell him. “How did you die, Yoongi?”   His brow lifts, caught off guard. “That’s a personal question.”   “I think we’re past the point of personal.” You offer a meek smile, locking your stare with his again and the paper lies beside you. “You’re my fiancé.”   “That’s debatable,” he banters back with a soft smile and then there’s a pause before he tells you without any reservation. “It was a plane crash.”   “Oh. Did it hurt?”   His arm folds underneath his head and even if your question is stupid, he answers truthfully, “Not too much. I just remember...people and a lot of….”   “Screaming.”   “Yeah….lots of screaming.”   You were in a bus crash yourself. The vehicle skimmed across the road, tires screeching aloud. While the memories are vague, going by too fast that it felt surreal, you remember looking into children’s eyes, how scared they were as their mothers and fathers held them. The bus teetered from side to side before flipping several times and you recall having no control of your body, hitting against other people, against the walls and floor, against glass windows until it stopped.   Then your eyes saw fire and you felt warm.   But most of all, you remember the screaming. The terrified, agonizing screaming of people dying and calling out to their loved ones for help.   It’s terrifying to think about it, but somehow it comforts you to know that your experience with death is not so different from Yoongi’s own experience.   “You know…” He breaks the silence, swallowing hard. “You don’t have to marry me.”   You lift your head, locking your gaze with his once more. “Screw family and what they feel. You can be selfish. It’s okay. Your mom and brother will recover whether you marry me or not. Time heals wounds. You can leave all of this behind, not worry about them, and cross…”   There’s a thick lump in your throat and you divert your vision away from his. “Why don’t you cross then? You’re sticking around because of your mom, right?”   “I’m not here because I want to be,” he tells you. “I made a promise to myself to haunt her.”   “Haunt her?”   “To make her life miserable,” Yoongi says simply, yet you still don’t understand. She’s an odd and an undoubtedly eccentric woman, but you’ve never questioned her kindheartedness. He seems to read your expression and rolls on his back, eyes shutting. You suspect it's the end of the conversation and he doesn’t want to reveal anymore, but the corner of Yoongi’s mouth moves. “My relationship with her was never good. She told me she could see ghosts and I never believed her. As I grew older, I thought what she was doing was gross — scamming people, the helpless, the grieving…”   “But when I died, I found out she wasn’t lying.” His eyes flutter open again, looking up at the ceiling and the way the paint has chipped in the corner. “But it doesn’t matter. She’s still forcing these ghosts to get married and it’s wrong.”   “Taehyung and Yeonmi…”   He cranes his neck over to you, irises darkening. “We had to intervene to get them married. Can you imagine the amount of souls that were married to each other when they didn’t want to be?”   “.......She wouldn’t marry them if they didn’t want to be….”   Yoongi scoffs. “I’ve been around way longer than you. I’ve seen the things she’s done. I won’t rest until she stops so...you shouldn’t try to marry me. I’ll be here for a really long time.”   He almost laughs as he tells you, words bitter, and you twiddle with your fingers in your lap, head downcasted and unsure how to respond. “I...I’m not leaving either.”   “Don’t wait for me.”   “I’m not,” you murmur.   “You don’t have any reason for sticking around,” he says easily like he knows you. But he doesn’t. “If you’re worried about your family, then don’t be. There’s not a good reason why you or anyone dead should be here. You’re the one who’s suffering at the end of the day. And doesn’t your mom want you to find peace? I’m sure she’d be happy if you crossed over.”   “I don’t know what’s on the other side,” you confess in a quiet voice, slightly annoyed that he keeps pushing you.   His brow lifts and he questions— “Does anyone?”   “I just don’t want to leave all of this behind.” You gather your knees together, hugging them to your chest, protecting yourself against your own vulnerabilities. “Look, I never got to experience life. I never got to travel and see the world or fall in love or any of that. I never had any fun while I was still alive, so sorry I’m not eager to cross over to the dead any time soon.”   “My life sucked. I didn’t get to do anything. I didn’t get to enjoy what I worked so hard for.” You hate how overly emotional you’re becoming, how your deepest thoughts are spilling out for him to hear. You’re an over pressurized capsule with the lid blown off, fists clenched, looking down onto the floor. “At least as a ghost, I can be around my family and go to school and go home and do all the things I’ve wanted to do.”   “I get it.” Yoongi finally understands — you’re regretful and full of self-pity. He empathizes and sympathizes more than you’d think. But what comes out his mouth is condescending, “You feel sorry for yourself.”   You glare. “Fuck off, Yoongi.”   “You’re allowed to feel sorry for yourself.” His lips are pouty and he rolls onto his side again to face you. “I think we’ve both earned that right. But at some point, we just have to ask if it’s doing anything anymore. You feel wronged, but so what? No one cares.”   “Gee, thanks.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. “That makes me feel a lot better.”   He shrugs. “If you stopped caring, it’s a lot more...free.”   “It’s hard not to care.” Years of your youth were wasted. You never accomplished anything and you can’t help but feel you lived an empty, unfulfilled and useless life. Everything was taken from you before you could do anything. It’s unfair. “And that’s easy for you to say. Why don’t you just not care about what your mom is doing?”   “Because that’s something I know I can change. But how I lived my life….what I did or didn’t do...what’s done is done. We can’t change that no matter how much we want. We just have to keep looking forward.”   “But we’re dead, Yoongi.” You meet his gaze for the hundredth time, wondering how he can be so wise and his presence so calming. “What’s forward? What’s next?”   “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “We don’t know until we cross.”   “Aren’t you scared?” You look up at him, hiding your trembling hands. “What if there’s….nothing?”   “Then I guess that’s okay,” he hums, strangely gentle. “I’m going to stay here as long as it takes, but not forever. I just don’t think I can be here eternally, tied down by my past, wandering aimlessly. Sometimes...I just want to rest. Peacefully.”   His words shake you to your core and he asks— “Are you scared?”   Yoongi never lies or tries to hide himself. His candidness causes the walls around you to crumble and it makes you answer him with as much honesty as he has shown you. “Very.”   “Don’t be.” He softly smiles, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “No matter where we end up, I’ll be with you, right?”   You scoff lightly, a bit tearful, but you downcast your head into your lap to not let him see how much he’s moved you. Still, you can’t cover the stupid smile that’s plastered on your face. “Are you proposing to me?”   He hums a low note. “Sure.”   “Wait...what?” You raise your chin, nearly getting whiplash with how quickly you move. Yoongi’s on his back, staring at the ceiling with his arm stretched out like he’s trying to touch it. He’s completely casual and nonchalant. “You’ll marry me?”   There’s a pause.   Yoongi is quiet. “I think my mom’s going to marry me off eventually. If not to you then to someone else. She’s been trying to get rid of me for some time now and she thinks marrying me off will placate me or something. I don’t know what that psychotic lady is thinking.” He sighs, but there’s a sparkle of mischief in his irises when he slyly steals a glance at you. “Don’t get me wrong, I still think you’re annoying as hell and obviously after this conversation, I find out you’re a hopeless case too……”   “You have a real roundabout way of saying this,” you complain with an unimpressed expression.   He ignores you. “But if I have to marry someone…….if it’s you...I don’t think I’d mind.”   A scoff spills from your lips and you don’t even realize that you’re grinning. “At least ask me properly, asshole. Do you know how many times I’ve asked you?”   Yoongi rolls away, facing the wall this time. He shuts his eyes and you suspect he’s ignoring you again, but then you hear his mumbles, “Will you marry me?”   It’s barely coherent, but more than you can ask for. A grin spreads across your face, a victorious emotion rippling through your chest and making you feel warm and fuzzy. ��Damn straight I will.”   Yes, yes, and yes.   You never envisioned yourself married. But if it’s Yoongi, you could go through with it.   //   The bristles of the broom sweep against the concrete, brushing against the autumn leaves as the flutter from the trees. Colours rich in hue, red and gold and tangerine, coat the driveway like oil paints on a canvas. She hums a soft song, sounds taking flight in the breeze and traveling distances far and wide.   Two souls pierce through the walls, pulling through the physical matter and passing with ease.   You approach her while pondering how she doesn’t get startled. Maybe because she’s used to it by now; she has had the ability since she was born. You also wonder how Yoongi’s relationship with his mother would’ve been different if he saw ghosts too. It is both a blessing and a curse that this gift skips four generations in the Min family. Though you can’t really imagine him as a shaman….it’s a funny thought nonetheless.   “There you two are. Spending a lot of time together, are we?” She smiles, continuing to sweep the driveway. “I hope you’ve been getting close, but at this rate, you both might run me out of business. You seem to be better at matchmaking than I am—” she refers to Taehyung and Yeonmi with a grin.   “You should worry about your own marriage before looking at others.” The older woman works hard to clear her driveway and makes a mental note to invest in a rake instead. It is silent for a few beats too long and she looks up to find you both there. Oddly enough, her son’s aura isn’t red or black. His soul is almost tinged with pastel yellow. “You two…..you want to get married?”   “How many times do I have to tell you?” He drags a hand over his face. “I said yes.”   “She can’t hear you,” you chide with a smile until you feel something brush your leg behind you. One look down and you pick up Holly happily into your arms. “Hello there….”   “Great.” He lolls his head to the side, having too much fun teasing you, “You got a dog to tie me down, didn’t you?”   “I don’t need to use dirty tactics to ‘tie you down’.” You pout, hugging Holly to your chest. “You’re the one begging me to marry you.”   Yoongi scoffs. “I didn’t once beg you. You’re the one who’s been following me and proposing hundreds of times.”   “I can’t hear you,” you sing-song, ignoring him to coo at your puppy instead. Holly’s tail wags back and forth, ears perking upwards. He’s a part of your family now and you’re about to gain one more member into this small unit that you’re quickly calling your home.   You — Yoongi — Holly.   His mother can’t hear your banter, but can feel both of your warm auras. Her instincts sing to her and the broomstick slips from her grasps, clattering to the ground. A grin spreads across her face, elated that you’ve both accepted the marriage and she nearly trips as she runs inside the house to give your mom a call.   It happens so quickly. Maybe because she’s scared Yoongi’s going to change his mind or get cold feet. It’s miraculous that he agreed in the first place. And when your mom comes by, she’s also happy to hear that the pair of you are willing and excited to go through with it.   You’ll do whatever it takes to give her a peace of mind.   The ceremony is a simplistic ritual, candles lit all around and the two of you merely sitting side by side with Holly in front of Yoongi’s mom and your mom. There’s no fancy dresses, no extravagant feast, no hundreds of guests that you don’t know the name of filtering through a massive venue. It’s intimate and small, nothing else necessary.   His mother’s head is bowed and she reads off the pages of her red book. “—through this union and spirit marriage, their souls shall connect, never to leave the other behind—”   “I’m only doing this because it’s convenient,” Yoongi leans in to whisper, but it’s not like they can hear anyway.   “Uh-huh.” You tip your head to one side, pretty smile on your face as you bat your lashes back and forth. “You mean you’re not deeply in love with me? You haven’t fallen head over heels for this?”   “Psh. Not in this lifetime, sweetheart.”   “You’re a blind man, Min Yoongi.”   “No.” He corrects, “I’m a dead one.”   Infectious giggles spill from your throat and as he gazes at you, the corners of his mouth lift until he’s laughing with you.   It doesn’t take too long, just half-an-hour of listening to her words of wisdom and advice, reading off what ministers typically read as they officiate marriages. In hindsight, it’s silly to do such a human thing when you’re both dead. You’re doing this only for the living, but at the same time it’s much deeper than that. Yoongi will become your partner, romantically or platonically depending on you. It’s comforting to know that you won’t be alone. If you ever go to the other side...he’ll be with you every step of the way.   “—and with this, let their two souls entwined together evermore….” Her voice fades off and when you look down, you find your skin aglow. Your stomach feels tingly, but you aren’t sure if that’s the result of the ritual or butterflies bursting from glancing at Yoongi.   “We’re not going to kiss, right?”   “I mean, do you want to?” He licks his lips, half-lidded eyes pinpointed onto your own mouth and he smirks. “It’s not like they would know. We could technically consummate our marriage right here on the floor in front of them and they’d be clueless.”   “Yeah, I don’t think so. You’re five lifetimes too early for that, Min.”   “What? You’ve never kissed someone before?” He wiggles his brows up and down. “What are you waiting for? If not your dearest husband then who? Unless you’re planning to cheat on me with another ghost….”   You’re slightly amused from his scenario. “Would you kill the person I’d have an affair with?”   “I can’t. But I could strangle them.”   “With those limp arms, you can’t.”   “I know something else that isn’t limp….” he comments slyly and your face scrunches impulsively.   “Gross. Ugh, I’m so over you right now. When can I get a divorce?”   “Never.” He leans in, planting a soft kiss on your cheek. There’s no pressure to it whatsoever, a mere graze of his lips on your skin, but it still catches you off guard. Your pointed glare melts into a pout and he grins. You recognize how giddy Yoongi actually is, unusually hyper and it makes you all the more endeared.   Ironically, at the exact same time, your mention of divorce is overridden by the sound of the book slamming shut. “Yoongi and Y/N, I may now pronounce you as husband and wife, soul partners until the end of time itself.”   The candles are blown out, flames smothered with the warm breeze that suddenly sweeps through the wind. It caresses against the woman’s cheeks, curling through the strands of her hair and even when you can’t feel anything, warmth spreads from your chest to your toes, making you fuzzy and soft.   Your souls are now connected — whether that means. You’re sure it’s more metaphorical than anything. Nonetheless, a sense of bliss ripples throughout your being at your mom’s gentle smile.   “Is she saying anything?”   Yoongi’s mom looks over and sees the colour of soft pink. “They’re arguing.”   “Arguing?” Your mom is both concerned and curious.   “In a good kind of way.” She laughs. “They’re happy. Your daughter is happy to have someone with her.”   The other woman laughs quietly as well and nods in understanding. After a beat, she lifts her hand to wipe at her eyes before tears can start pouring out. She cries in relief.   You wish you could tell her that she was wrong — that someone ended up wanting you anyways. She always entered your bedroom with a pinched nose, saying how no one would want you if you didn’t clean yourself up. But she’s wrong. You found someone. Someone who doesn’t give a shit about anything trivial like that. And it’s not just anyone….   You found Yoongi.

[avengerscompound]

The Unicorn - Chapter 13

The Unicorn:  A Pepperony Fanfic PREVIOUS

Series Masterlist

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Word Count:    1557

Pairing:  Tony Stark x F!Reader x Pepper Potts

Warnings:  IVF and internal ultrasounds

Synopsis:  The first ultrasound makes everyone nervous.

Chapter 13

The four-week wait for the first ultrasound felt like a year.  Tony was so anxious to see the baby.  He knew he wasn’t the only one either.  You had stuck a calendar up and started marking off the days in scented stickers of anthropomorphic desserts.  Pepper was more subtle about the countdowns but he knew she had alerts in her calendar about it.

At least there was no morning sickness before yet.   Pepper was already babying you more than you liked.  He could only imagine what it would be like when you actually started getting sick.

Time, however slowly, always passes.  Even when you are anxiously waiting for the clock to count down to something exciting.  Pepper had made the first available appointment with the obstetrician at the 6-week mark.  You sat in the examination chair dressed in nothing but one of the backless gowns provided by the hospital.  He and Pepper paced around the room, they crossed paths with each other but never seemed to keep the same circuit as the other.

“What’s taking them so long?”  Pepper asked.

“You’d think I wasn’t donating all that new equipment.”  Tony ranted.

“If this is how long we have to wait now, what if there’s an emergency?  Maybe we need to find a new team.”  Pepper said pulling her phone out of her handbag.

“Pepper!”  You yelped.  “We aren’t getting a new team.  Put your phone away there’s a massive goddamn sign that says not to use them.”

Pepper winced and put her phone away coming to sit beside you and patting your hand.  “I am so sorry, sweetie.”

Tony stepped out into the hall, frustration at not getting to see the baby leaking from his pores.  “Who’s dick do you have to suck to get seen here?”  He yelled.

“Tony!”  Pepper leaped to her feet and dragged him back into the room.

“Oh my god,”  You groaned.  “Why did I agree to have your baby again?”

Tony moved to the other side of the chair and nuzzled up against you.  “Because you love us?”

“Love’s a pretty strong word.”  You teased.

Tony was about to deliver a comeback when the door opened and your doctor came in.  “A little anxious to meet the baby are we?”  She said.

“I am so sorry, Doctor Singh.  My husband is an idiot.”  Pepper apologized.

“Yes, well, it shocked a few patients.”  She replied as she looked over your chart.  “Blood tests all look good.  How have you been feeling?”

“Just slightly nauseated today and yesterday.  Nothing bad though.”  You said.

“That could be nerves.  I felt a bit off too.”  Pepper added.

The doctor nodded and scribbled something in her chart.  “It's nothing to worry about anyway.  Let's take a little look at that baby shall we?”

She moved the ultrasound closer to the bed and picked up the long white probe.  Pepper squeezed your hand and Tony couldn't help rubbing his fingers over your stomach as he watched her prep it.

“Okay,”  She said when it was sheathed in its protective coating and covered in lube.  “Scoot your bottom forward.  This will pinch a bit.  It's not the most fun.”

“Yeah, yeah.  Half the medical staff here has had a poke around in there now.  Just get on with it.”  You said with a shrug.

The doctor started laughing and she eased the wand inside of you.  Your hand tightened in Pepper’s but all Tony was aware of was the monitor.  He knew that what he would see would be barely recognizable.  He just really wanted to see it.

It took a little bit of poking and prodding and moving the wand into a position that made you wince and mutter curse words under your breath.

“There they are.”  Doctor Singh said finally.

“They?”  Pepper gasped peering closer at the screen.

“That’s right.  It looks like both zygotes took.  It’s fraternal twins.”  She said and pointed to the screen.  “There’s one -” She moved her finger from one small circle to another-  “And the other.”

“Oh my god.  Twins.”  Tony breathed.  He had never felt so completely struck dumb in his life.  Tony had this ability to run through multiple things very quickly.  It was part of how he acquired new information as quickly as he did.  So as Doctor Singh went through the extra risks involved with twins and what care you needed to take and how you would need closer monitoring, he went through a plethora of thoughts.

Twins!  Like two of them.  How did he go from no one loving to having two women to having two children on the way in what felt like such a short period of time?  Although he guessed it wasn’t that short a period of time.  Iron Man stuff made time pass faster he guessed.  Still.  A much larger portion of his life he was isolated and now, just like that he was about to be part of a family of five.

He’d need to look into schools.  Not that he was too worried that none would take him.  Probably more likely schools will be looking into getting his kids enrolled.  Maybe they should move to wherever the best school was.

Twins.  They definitely needed to move out.  He couldn’t do twins at the compound.  They needed a yard.  A dog.   Did they need to be in the same room, to begin with, or their own?  Co-sleeping was a thing, wasn’t it?  How did you co-sleep with two babies and three adults without someone getting smothered?  Maybe it wasn’t for them.  It was a good thing he barely slept anyway because he wouldn’t be after.

He’d get a nanny.  They might need one.  Not that he didn’t want to be involved.  But twins.  He was already doubting his ability with one baby.

He wondered if they were boys or girls.  He hoped one of each and then felt guilty about hoping for that.  He really didn’t care.  He just wanted his family to be here yesterday.

“Twins,”   He repeated.

“Yes, honey.  Twins.”  Pepper said.  “Did you get all that?”

“Yes.  Need to watch the diet.  One twin can leach nutrients from the other.  More regular doctor's visits.  Aiming for 37 weeks but probably 35 is more likely.  Ginger pills for nausea.  Regular activity is fine but nothing that exerts too much stress.  No more Avengers physical training.”

You had started giggling by the time he'd finished rambling.  “I don’t know why you bother.  He has levels.”

Pepper shook her head.   “I know.  It’s annoying.”

“Did you want a print out of the ultrasound?”  Doctor Singh asked.

“Yes,”  Tony said quickly.

She laughed and hit a button on the machine.  It made a whirring sound as it printed out three different pictures from the ultrasound.   She handed them to you and after you and Pepper looked at them you placed them on your lap for Tony to take.  There wasn’t much to see but those two black voids in the white noise of the ultrasound held a tiny little jelly bean shaped blob.  His kids.

“Alright.  I think we’re done.  We’ll do another in two weeks to check their development.”  The doctor said tidying things up.  “I’ll let you get changed unless you have any more questions.”

The three of you shook your heads.  He felt like there were more questions but he was in shellshock.  He knew he was going to be scouring the baby books when he got home.  It was inevitable.

Doctor Singh left the room and you stretched and hopped up off the chair.

“Twins,”  Pepper squealed.  “There’s gonna be two of them.”  She pulled you into her arms and peppered kisses over your face.

Tony came over and wrapped his arms around you both and nuzzled into your hair.  “I seriously can’t believe this is happening.”  He whispered.

“You’re squishing me.”  You whined.

“Too bad.  You’re getting squished.   You have to deal with it.”  Pepper scolded.

You groaned and wrapped your arms around the back of them both.  “Good thing I love you guys.”

They let you go and you stood up and stretched out again, giving them both a good look at your ass.  “I’m glad you’re both happy, this is gonna ruin my body.”

“We’ll take our time to appreciate it now,”  Tony said giving your ass a smack.

You squeaked and slapped his hand away as you went to the dressing room to get redressed.

“Twins.”  He and Pepper said looking at each other.

“Oh god, there’s so much to do,”  Pepper added getting her phone out.  “We need to find somewhere to live.   We can’t raise babies at the compound.   And schools.  There needs to be a  good school nearby.”

Tony laughed.   He loved that he and Pepper had finally started to get on the same page since he retired.   He put his hand on her phone and she looked up at him.  Her face slowly cracked into a wide smile.  “It’s happening, Pep,”  He said.

“We’re gonna be parents,”  She sighed and leaned in and kissed him.  He hummed and relaxed into the kiss.  Lately, he’d had these moments where he had thought he was at the happiest he’d ever get, and then another moment would come.  He wondered if there was such a thing as the happiest he’d ever be and if it might not be now.

// NEXT

[vincent-frankenstein]

Warmth

Summary: Remy is snowed in at Emile's house. But Emile has pumpkin cookies and hot cocoa (and a smile that makes Remy's heart sing). Only good things can come from this.

Pairing: REMILE , v fluffy

Warnings: you might get cavities from reading???

YO YALL IT'S @aliferous-ly's BIRTHDAY TODAY GO WISH HER A HAP BORTH BC SHE'S AMAZING AND SHE DESERVES IT anYGAY i wrote u some remile b!!!!!!!!! i hope u like it ILYSM

ALSO tagging @joygaytrash my Remile Bud™

There was a storm brewing outside.

Remy watched through breath-fogged glass as snow swirled and flurried just outside, buffeted by the gentle prelude to the powerful wind he knew was coming. He tapped his fingers against the windowsill, his eyes searching the darkness in the quiet backyard. The old sofa creaked and groaned beneath his weight as he shifted on his knees, resting his head on his arms.

The TV crackled behind him, the kind-faced weatherman detailing the dangers the storm would pose. It wouldn’t be long now before it hit the old house, and when that happened, there’d be no leaving. Remy should have gone home long ago.

But — he thought, as the front door opened and a gust of cold air blustered into the room, as a golden retriever bounded inside, shaking snowflakes from his fur — he couldn’t find it in him to leave just yet.

Emile stood in the front hall, stomping snow from his boots and unwrapping a pink scarf from around his face. Aang, his dog, paid no mind to the snow he was tracking into the house as he barrelled towards Remy.

“You’d think he’d never seen snow before, he’s so excited,” Emile said fondly, his nose and cheeks flushed red from the cold. Pieces of hair stuck out from beneath his knitted hat, speckled white with snow. Remy twisted just in time to catch Aang as he leaped onto the couch, falling back beneath his weight.

“Can’t really blame him, hun,” Remy said, craning his face away from Aang’s tongue. His eyes landed on Emile as he shook off his coat, and a smile grew on his face. “It’s a gorgeous sight,” he said with a wink.

He wasn’t talking about the snow.

“Mmhmm!” Emile hummed, pulling off his hat and shaking snow from his curly hair. “Very unsafe to drive in, though, which begs the question: how come you’re still here?”

“Aw, yall aren’t happy to see me?” Remy teased.

“Of course I am!” Emile protested. “And from the look of it, Aang is too.”

At the mention of his name, Aang perked up, ears flopping as he looked at Emile. Remy chuckled, scratching him behind the ears.

“I’m just a lil’ worried,” Emile continued, smiling fondly at the sight before him. “You can’t exactly drive in this kind of weather. How’re you going to get home?”

“Gurl, don’t worry your pretty little head. I’ll be just gucci.” With a groan, Remy pushed Aang from his lap. “Just wanted to see you one more time before I left,” he added with a cheeky wink.

Emile rolled his eyes, light pink dusting his cheeks. That was what Remy loved about their friendship: he could flirt as much as he wanted, and it wouldn’t change a thing. “You’re not driving in that, Rem. It’s almost here.”

“Aw, babe, you care about me?” Remy placed a hand over his heart, grinning. “Mmmaybe I could crash here, if you’re gucci with that?” He tilted his head just a bit to one side, offering the best puppy-dog eyes he could muster.

Emile shook his head, chuckling. Snowflakes drifted from his hair. “Well, I’m not about to make you leave,” he said. “Besides, you know I can’t say no to your puppy-dog eyes.”

“‘Course you can’t, girl! These beauties work on Virge. They worked on Lolo, the most serious thot in the world.” Remy quirked an eyebrow, pride sparkling in his eyes. “I’m the most adorable ho on this planet, babe.”

“Sorry, Aang’s got you beat there.” Emile smiled cheekily. “Don’t you, sweetie? Yes you do, you do!” He crouched over and patted his lap and Aang jumped to attention, bounding across the floor.

Remy fell back onto the couch, letting out an overdramatic sigh of defeat. “Defeated by my bestie. This is so not cash money.”

“Sorry, Rem!” Emile said, grinning adorably. Remy rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

“Friendship ended with Emmy and Aang, now loneliness is my only friend.” He shifted on the couch to lie on his back. “And coffee. Coffee is my friend. You got any, girl?”

“No coffee after eight PM, Remy,” Emile said sternly. “You won’t be able to sleep!”

“Hun, you know I can’t catch a wink either way. Gimme the good stuff.” He fixed Emile with a smirk. “Got any pumpkin spiced seasonal depression?”

“Remy, no,” Emile sighed.

“Remy, yes,” Remy replied enthusiastically. He reached out towards Emile, offering his puppy-dog eyes at double strength. “Please?”

“It’s late, pumpkin,” Emile said gently, turning away from the puppy-dog eyes, a feat few had ever accomplished. “I can, however, offer some hot cocoa, if you’re interested?” He drew a box of cocoa mix from the cabinet and turned, winking.

Damn. He knew Remy’s weaknesses too well. Remy couldn’t hide the way his face lit up at the prospect — but who could blame him? Emile made the best hot cocoa in the entire world, even when it was just the cheap box stuff. Emile, satisfied, set the box on the counter and slid on his socks towards the fridge.

“And!” He pulled something from the fridge, grinning. “I’ve been saving these babies. Ta-da!” he exclaimed, holding out the box of pumpkin cookie-dough like it was some magnificent treasure. Remy’s face bloomed with warmth as Emile smiled, his eyes sparkling.

Emile pushed his soft hair away from his face and set the box on the counter and Remy pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the way his heart fluttered in his chest. The way his heartbeat stuttered, you’d think he’d just drank ten coffees all at once.

“Mmm,” he hummed, setting his forearms against the countertop and leaning across. “Looks delicious.”

“It will be!” Emile said, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “What better snack is there on a blizzardy night than cookies and cocoa?”

“I dunno, gurl, you?” Remy suggested, waggling his eyebrows playfully. Emile choked, shoving Remy away as his face flushed red. “I’m joking, I’m joking!” Remy said, voice shaking with giggles as he held up his hands in surrender. “It sounds delish, hun.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Emile said, shaking his head. Remy was pleased to note the amusement sparkling in his eyes. He winked.

“You bet your ass, gurl,” he boasted, setting a hand on his hip and puffing out his chest proudly. Emile rolled his eyes, pushing up his sleeves.

“Keep up that sass and you’re not getting any cookies,” he said, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. His tongue stuck out as he read the instructions; Remy, torn between keeping his reputation and collapsing of cute-overdose, let out an overdramatic gasp that could have rivaled Roman.

“But —” He gestured wildly at himself. “I’m legit made of concentrated sass. Five feet three inches of pure sass. There’s no stoppin’ this, hunty.”

“Ah, what a shame.” Emile turned away, cradling the box of dough like a child. “I guess I’ll just have to eat all the cookies.”

“You wouldn’t,” Remy dared, eyes narrowing as he leaned over the counter.

“Try me, bi…” Emile trailed off, refusing to swear. Remy snorted, rolling his eyes fondly as he made his way into the kitchen.

Together, they unboxed the dough and rolled it out. With a practiced hand — and to Remy’s great Halloween-loving chagrin — Emile cut gingerbread-man shapes from the slab of orange-brown dough. As the weather grew colder and the oven grew warmer, Emile danced through the kitchen to the tune of the Christmas-music station he’d turned on the tv, brandishing a tube of orange frosting like a microphone.

Remy hopped onto the kitchen counter and watched him dance. Shifting, he squinted through the window, watching the mad flurry of snow outside. He drew one leg up onto the counter and let the other dangle, rubbing away the orange frosting Emile had dabbed onto his nose.

“You’re like a cat,” Emile said, peering at him. Remy raised an eyebrow.

“Explain.”

“Likes to sit on my counter.” Emile strode to the oven, leaning over to peer at the cookies through the tinted oven window. “Looking good!” he said happily as he straightened up.

“Thanks, gurl, I try,” Remy joked, throwing a flirtatious wink Emile’s way.

“You certainly do,” Emile said with a snort, shoving Remy’s leg out of the way to rest his hands on the counter and lean towards the window. Remy’s heart jumped into his throat as the soft scent of Emile’s shampoo filled his nose. His pink curls were close enough to touch — and god did Remy want to touch them.

“It sure is blowing out there.” Emile gazed at the snow, eyes sparkling. “It’s so pretty,” he said, his voice whisper-soft. Remy was sure it was — but he couldn’t bring himself to tear his eyes from the sight before him.

“It sure is,” he whispered, all traces of sass or bravado wiped from his voice. His gaze traced the gentle curve of Emile’s lips. At his words, Emile turned, shifting to gaze at Remy rather than the blizzard outside. A moment passed in silent stasis.

Remy was drowning in Emile’s gaze.

“Rem?” Emile breathed. Remy stared, denial flashing through his mind between bouts of gay screaming — and he knew what he wanted to do, but he knew he couldn’t do it, because they were just friends, and no amount of flirting would change that —

Emile licked his lips. Remy’s heart skipped several beats.

Fuck it, he thought, and the two leaned together as if drawn by magnetism, their lips locking in an explosion of warmth. Remy’s heart soared as Emile deepened the kiss, his hands moving to cup the back of his head as Emile’s arms rested around his neck.

Emile tasted like chocolate and sunshine; Remy was surprised the blizzard hadn’t halted in the face of his warmth. His fingers tangled in Emile’s soft pink curls as his lungs forgot how to work, as Emile stole his breath right from him.

And all too soon, they pulled apart, and Remy fell from cloud nine back into the little kitchen. The blizzard raged outside, the cookies still baked in their oven, the Christmas music crooned from the tv. Everything was normal.

Everything had changed forever.

He gaped, face bright red, and Emile giggled. “I never thought I’d see the day when the great Remy Somnus is stricken speechless,” he said, voice ever-so-gentle.

The oven beeped insistently, and Emile drew away. Remy fell back against the cold window, his fingers brushing his lips in shock. He watched as Emile pulled the tray of cookies from the oven, eyes wide, his heart bursting with fondness.

“Gurl,” he said finally, his voice a quiet whoosh of air. “You are a good kisser.”

“Well, I try,” Emile said. When he turned around, a plate of cookies in hand, Remy was pleased to see the soft red blush spread across his face. “You want a taste, Rem?”

“You know I do, babe,” Remy said, a smile growing on his face as he hopped down from the counter. He pushed aside the plate and stood on his tiptoes, pulling Emile down to connect their lips once more.