#sorry but that post just really spoke to me in like a really deep profound kafkaesque way or whatever just had to scream it out of my chest

[magicgirlboss]

NEED A FULL BODY MASSAGE A MARGARITA 400MG OF IBUPROFEN A PLATE OF BROWNIES AT LEAST AN HOUR IN A JACUZZI AND 20,000 DOLLARS CASH

[jaeminzie]

better than words | l.dh

↳ lee haechan x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: finally taking his friends’ advice, the not-so-cunning donghyuck finds a way to show his profound feelings toward his respectfully patient herbology partner.

genre: fluff

word count: 2,226

a/n: lawd it’s been a while since i’ve posted a fic but here it is ! a week delayed from valentine’s but let’s just pretend it’s the 14th :,]

‘better than words’ by one direction

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

like most hufflepuffs, you have a natural interest and talent with every living thing, including plants. herbology is one of the classes that you excell at and enjoy doing. though, the hufflepuff class had to deal with the subject with none other than the slytherins.

students walked into the greenhouse chatting, but soon became quiet once professor sprout called out for your attention, “everyone! in celebration of valentine’s day, i came up with the brilliant idea of hosting a contest! the objective is to successfully cast the herbivicus charm on a rose. this charm is used to rapidly grow whatever plant you desire.” everyone looked at each other warily, completely uninterested in some gardening spell. “since this spell needs precise movements, you will need a partner to help guide you.”

immediately, students began making eye contact with their preferred partners. lee donghyuck turned his head slightly toward your body standing next to him and nibbled his bottom lip. your relationship with donghyuck was rather interesting. being seatmates in this class, you choose to be kind and offer help whenever you see him struggling which would usually not be accepted by the boy. you believed his attitude was because of professor sprout moving him all the way at the front of the class next to you in punishment of being the initiator of constant disruption with his friends stood at the back. you didn’t mind the silence though. but in reality, donghyuck wasn’t sure how to talk to you without being too straightforward as he’s been told many times that he is slightly too shameless. he was afraid to say or do anything that could potentially hurt your feelings when he’d had no intention in doing so.

“to make it easier for everyone, your partner will be the person standing next to you.” professor sprout said her ‘good luck’s’ before dismissing us to work on the assignment. “whoever perfects the charm first wins.” she smiles before heading toward her desk covered in plant roots in the corner.

taking a deep breath before turning to the boy, you greeted him — to which he replied with a simple nod and pursed lips while avoiding eye contact. you cleared your throat at the awkwardness prior to politely asking, “do you want to be the one monitoring me or casting the charm?”

“i’ll cast it.” he grabbed the book placed in front of you and began flipping through the pages loudly. he began examining the words on the brown paper and clicked his tongue, “this will be easy.”

you let out a small laugh, “it looks pretty complicated.” you skimmed through the lines along with him, leaning forward closely in order to see clearly. donghyuck leaned back slightly when he noticed the close distance between your faces. the boy’s heart raced the moment he felt your hair brush against his right cheek. he wanted so badly to slap himself for not being able to contain his feelings.

he crossed his arms, tongue poking the inside of his right cheek in an attempt to not smile, “are you saying i can’t do it?”

“of course not, just be realistic.” your smile faltered when the once-gone awkwardness made its return when the last portion of your sentence came out instinctively. “oh, um, that didn’t come out well. just- i just mean that-”

“don’t.” he said blankly while you slightly pouted at his words since you’ve already failed to maintain a decent conversation barely five minutes in.

you bit your tongue at his response and forced yourself to move on since you wanted nothing more than to disappear from this situation. donghyuck rolled up the sleeves of his oversized green robe the best he could before waving his wand experimentally. “it says to-”

he cuts you off, “i don’t need assistance.” the tiniest quiver of your bottom lip caught his attention before it was directed toward his friends who were making obnoxious kissy faces toward your two distanced bodies. he glared at them before tilting his head slightly when he noticed your hunched figure standing timidly, starting to feel the regret in his unnecessary words. donghyuck cleared his throat and began to follow the instructions written in the book.

you carefully watched donghyuck’s wand, mentally taking notes on the movements. his long fingers delicately held his wooden wand that fits perfectly in his grip and moved it with such grace, creating imaginary loops and curves just how the book had described. “herbivicus.” he breathlessly spoke when he was finishing up the wand movements.

he proved his previous statement when the rose sprout began to flourish steadily. donghyuck turned, unintentionally making his shoulder hit your arm, and walked toward professor sprout. observing from afar, you see the professor’s face brighten when he was done speaking politely with his hands put behind his back. donghyuck nodded before turning to walk back toward your shared working table. gathering enough courage when he got close to you, you asked, “what did she say?”

he walked past you and began tending more flowers planted on the dirt tray behind you without saying a word. at this point, your patience was crippling. “are you just gonna ignore me?”

without even turning his head to face you, he shook his head at your question. “then answer me verbally.”

donghyuck physically melted as his knees felt weaker when hearing your fragile tone trying to be assertive. he moved his wand quicker, trying not to prolong the silence between the two of you. once the wide variety of flowers were fully grown in front of him, he attached them together with a ribbon before taking a deep breath. he’s been told by his friends that actions speak louder than words when asking for advice on courting a person he has interest in. lots of interest. he used to always scoff whenever they’d say that, but his desperation grew over time of not being able to initiate a proper conversation.

donghyuck felt stupid for doing this which was evidently shown through his red face and sweaty palms. he straightened his back and held the flowers with both hands, placing them in front of him.

he turned around to face you teary-eyed, the tears were threatening to spill at any moment. donghyuck’s shoulders and face dropped upon hearing your tiny voice, “why don’t you like me? did i ever offend you? or do i just annoy you?” donghyuck muttered curse words at himself for making you think this way. he placed the flowers on the table by his side and hesitantly hovered his hands over your shoulders, testing the limits. when you didn’t flinch away, he softly rested them on your shoulders, brushing his thumb against the soft fabric of your yellow robe.

“no. . . to all of those.” seeing your flushed cheeks and nose made him want nothing more than to caress your cheeks. he looked around the class and made sure no one could see him pull you two toward the exit located right next to your working station, making sure to bring the flowers and placing them behind his back.

you yelp when donghyuck gently placed you against the brick wall, his hands barely had any grip on your robe like he was afraid to cause any further damage. your breath hitched when he dropped his hands into his pockets and looked at you with sincerity in his eyes. “i’m sorry.”

you furrowed an eyebrow, not knowing how to react at this moment.

“i have a feeling i haven’t been the nicest to you.” he nibbled on his lip while you tried not to chuckle at his statement. “um, it’s stupid but i’m always cautious not to behave a certain way that’ll hurt you by. . . not talking to you at all or cutting our conversations as short as possible.”

he groaned and let his head fall back as he realized how childish and inconsiderate his actions were. your facial features softened as he faced you again with a coy smile. “forgive me, i swear i don’t not like you.”

he laughed breathlessly, “it’s quite the opposite actually.” the now pink-tinted boy’s right hand ran through his hair repeatedly before placing it on the wall behind you. “i’m really sorry.”

you blinked at him. “it’s okay. thank you for explaining, actually.” you cleared your throat. “i’m just glad you don’t hate me or something.”

“so, how would you feel about me liking you?” his once shy smile is now gone and has been replaced with a sly smirk. you were taken back from the sudden change of confidence from the boy.

you shrieked under his strong gaze as he stepped closer to your figure. “oh, i- um. i, i wouldn’t be. . . opposed.” his smirk grew bigger at your answer.

donghyuck took his hand off the walk and stepped back slightly and placed his left hand in front of his chest, showing the bundle of flowers he had tended for you. he stood there holding the bundle of the prettiest flower he chose himself with his still-sweaty palms, and smiling softly causing his still-pink cheeks to round. donghyuck surely held his composure quite well with his smooth comments and actions but the red tinted ears of his were clear even under the dimly lit walkway, giving his nervousness away. “this was what i was doing when you were talking to me.”

he scratched his head with his free hand, “sorry, i was fully immersed. y’know, concentrating.”

you nodded slowly at him. “got it.” you spoke slowly while eyeing the flowers in his hands.

donghyuck giggled at your state, all flustered and not knowing what to say. he could definitely get used to this view. “would you be opposed to going out to hogsmeade with me?” his hand went back onto the wall and his face leaned very closely to yours. “my treat.” a smile slowly made an appearance on his godly face.

you were baffled. just ten minutes ago, you were one second away from crying in the middle of class because of the same guy who’s making your heart flutter in a way that you’ve never experienced before. the same guy who wouldn’t even speak a proper grammatically complete sentence to you prior to the past couple minutes.

he quirked an eyebrow as he patiently waited for your response. taking a deep breath, you seriously had nothing to lose. “no, i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” donghyuck smiled at how you can finally speak a full sentence without taking any pauses or stumbling upon your words.

once again, he pushed himself off the wall to grab your hand and arranged them so that you were now holding the flowers. you felt a wave of heat rush onto your cheeks and you tried to hide by keeping your focus on the colorful array of petals, allowing your head to stay low.

this obviously didn’t satisfy donghyuck since he wanted to stare at your flustered state all day. his pointer finger rested under your chin and pushed your head up to force you into maintaining the intense eye contact. pretty. he thought. your eyes were still shiny, and face even redder. donghyuck smiled at the up-close view of the face he had to restrain himself from staring at for too long in the past. savoring this moment, he examined your face slowly. taking all the time he needed and did not need, he continued to stare at the way your mouth fell slightly open, counting the seconds you could last without blinking your eyes and holding your breath when he stood so near you.

his brown, yet bright, eyes looked back at yours, he spoke softly, “good. i’ll wait for you outside your common room right before the sun sets tomorrow.”

you let out a breathy laugh at the vague description. “and what time is that?”

“anytime you’re ready.” his warm breath hits your hot cheeks, making your smile falter. donghyuck notices his effect on you and keeps that in mind for future purposes that you’ll soon loathe him for. “just don’t keep me waiting for too long. i’m already excited to be with you.” donghyuck smiled at the double meaning of his own sentence, feeling proud of himself for finally making a move and smiling at the sweet thought of his friends no longer pestering him to talk to you nor poking fun at him for being a bit of a coward.

the boy had to force himself to step away, but his gaze was still set on you. “i’ll see you tomorrow. anticipate it for me.” you blinked and nodded at his order while he winked at you before he made room for you to move past him and walk back toward the greenhouse.

donghyuck pushed open the door for you to enter and was automatically greeted with wide smiles from his friends still standing at the back of the room, silently cheering for their friend. he shyly smiled back quickly before retreating his attention back to you. he noticed how you caressed the soft flowers in your hand with such adoration and a smile on your face that will never seem to leave — he wished to do the same to you. and he had a strong gut feeling that his wish would soon be granted.

[writingforevren]

Hello people of the internet so I had a couple posts wondering if people would be interested in some of my random drafts and character ships and got some positive responses. I believe it was @apocalypsewriters​ who commented on my post and thanks for that because I honestly don’t know if I’d be posting this without that.

So~ I decided to share some writing on a ship I have Rory & Clyde, They’re both teachers at basically a magical university. Rory has just recently gotten the job and Clyde has worked there for a few years. Me and my friend came up with the school and everything about it as well as a whole magic system but I’m not gonna get into that now, however if you wanna know more about it you can drop questions in my ask box. This is about Rory & Clyde first meeting, I hope you enjoy :)

A left, then a right, and another left? Did he already go that way? how many rights was he supposed to take again?... Was it two or three? He felt like he'd been walking forever through the halls, like the walls themselves were moving. Rory, get your head together, he told himself. His office had to be close, it had to. He looked at the paper that he wrote the number on again but it had gotten smudged "Bloody hell can't I just get one thing right?"  He wanted to cry, getting a new job was always stressful but especially so when you got lost for nearly an hour and were supposed to start working.

"It has to be here" He looked up and caught sight of a door. Rory let out a sigh of relief, this had to be right, it felt right like something drew him towards the door. He reached out and turned the doorknob, surprisingly, it was unlocked. Wasn't he supposed to use a key? He glanced up and to his surprise there was a man sitting at the desk across the room. He just stood frozen for a moment, he was suddenly ten times more nervous. "hey" he mouthed though no words came out.

"Who are you?... and what are you doing here?" The man spoke sharply as he turned his attention upwards, the lights reflecting off his glasses.

Oh god he'd done something wrong hadn't he... "I'm so so sorry I'll- I'll just go" Rory stammered and reached back behind him to grab the door knob, not realizing that when he'd moved, he had accidentally knocked something off the wall. "Shit" He swore as he heard the sound of shattered glass, he was making a terrible impression, oh no he couldn't fail on his first day of work "I'm so sorry I'll clean it up" He was too stressed he couldn't use his magic to fix it, this was even worse then he’d ever imagined.

"Calm down" He watched the man wave a hand causing the shattered picture frame to repair itself and hang back on the wall like nothing happened.

Rory took a deep breath and met the eyes of a significantly shorter man, he seemed so much more intimidating when he was sitting. "Sorry I uh- I thought this was my office, I've been looking all day and I feel like I don't know where anything is, I'm new here I just got a job and- And it's just been a really stressful day and I'm really sorry for interrupting you.” He quickly apologized.

"I see, so it's your first day?" He watched as the brown haired man walked closer and brushed off Rory’s shoulder, perhaps there was some glass that hadn’t gotten cleaned up. He felt his eyes on him and it was almost as if he was examining him- he assumed it was to see if he was fit to work there.

Rory averted his eyes and steadied his breathing, fully aware of his racing heart. He took a moment before replying "Yeah, yeah I'm Rory I Uh- I'm the new charms teacher and I seem to have lost my sense of direction."

"Mm..." The pause left him unsettled like there were definitely words that needed to be said yet instead there was silence. "Clyde, Nice to meet you." Clyde... Cute name, classic in a way. Wait... cute? Now that he thought about it Clyde was definitely attractive, he had this sort of profound energy about him, while the words he spoke were soft and direct there was something more to be desired.

"Yeah totally-" Rory smiled and took Clyde's hand in his own, it was soft... and warm, he kinda liked holding it even if it was brief, well maybe not as brief as he'd thought. Their eyes met for a moment and Rory retracted his hand from Clyde's. He felt strange- like maybe the intense beating of his heart was no longer from anxiety but perhaps from the man in front of him.

Clyde waved a hand and the pile of paper's Rory had dropped flew back into his arms. "You're welcome" there was a hint of a smile as he said that. Is he flirting? Rory immediately found his mind rushing to the conclusion. The prolonged touch, the eye contact, the helpfulness- He was totally flirting, He felt almost giddy inside at the thought but no it was his first day of work and he had to stay professional.

He swallowed a lump in his throat before speaking again "D-do you think you could help me find my office?" Clyde was already back, leaning over his desk and organizing the papers that were stacked on it, probably grading assignments, Rory assumed.

"I have things to-" He looked back and his narrow eyes latched onto Rory's pleading look for a moment before he sighed and said "fine I'll help you."  Clyde gently grabbed him by the arm and led him out of his office. "Do you know if it's the same office as our previous Charms Teacher?"

"I think so..." Rory replied but in all honesty he had no idea, the paper he previously had had been dropped a while ago.

"Okay" Clyde held his arm, Rory quite liked having someone there to keep him from getting lost as he often did.

"Thank you a lot for your help" Rory said, he was genuinely very happy and thankful that he didn't turn out to be one of the super strict arsehole teachers, he actually seemed quite nice.

"Don't mention it.” He replied softly before pushing open a door to a cozy little office that looked like it could've been decorated by someone's grandma. "Here you are, She didn't exactly pack up but the headmaster let's you change it however you please."

Rory looked around at the room, awestruck, his very own office, his own place that he could do whatever he wanted with. "It's amazing." He grinned.

He heard Clyde say something softly under his breath but couldn't quite make it out. He took the box of things out of Rory's hand and sat it down on the still cluttered desk. "Do you need help with anything else? I mean I don't have much work to do so I could help with whatever you desire me to first." He leaned up against the desk.

Rory found himself staring perhaps a bit too long at the slim figure of the man in a blazer. His face was so sweet yet his dark eyes were intense as they glazed over him. He was- Rory couldn't think of the right word but 'pretty' seemed to sum it up for now. And if he wasn't mistaken the attraction was mutual. Rory felt his heart in his chest at that thought, perhaps once they got to know each other better he'd ask him out for a coffee. That sounded nice.

"Oh- well I'm okay for now I mean you did say you had to work." Rory replied, in all honesty he wasn't sure how much more his heart could take, that day had been a whirlwind of emotions and what he really desired was to just relax in his new chair and have a cup of his favorite tea.

"I'll be fine for a bit, plus I needed a break." Clyde had begun to pull things out of Rory's box. And Rory looked up at the dusty bookshelves that were packed full of books, half of which weren't even in English.

"D'you have a place where I can put all the things I don't need in here anymore?" Rory asked as he pulled out a book on cross-stitching.

"You can just put them in the room next door." He gestured to the left.

"What's in the room next door?..." Rory was somehow scared to know the answer but it turns out it was much less alarming than he originally thought.

"Alfie got his office taken away for- reasons- and now we just use it as a storage closet."

"Oh- what'd he do?" Rory asked as he began tossing things he didn't need into a box that he would later take to the 'storage room'

"Had too many ‘guests’” As he said the word Rory immediately understood what he meant, so the theatre teacher found his way around.

“Oh okay- well don’t you have work to do? I can handle this” Rory picked up another stack of weird books the previous charms teacher had kept.

“Mm actually yes there are a few things for me to do~ but it was nice meeting you.” He had a faint smile and Rory found his mind going to the conclusion of flirtation almost immediately once again.

“Yeah.” He smiled as the man left, he felt this warm fuzziness inside him that he found hard to describe, perhaps it was just the spell he’d used earlier to calm his anxiety.

Thanks for reading! Lemme know what else you wanna see from me. Honestly I love these boys and their dynamic is basically cat and dog which you can’t really go wrong with.

General Writing Taglist (ask to be +/-) - @weirdfishy @wannabeauthorzofija @annlillyjose @radiomacbeth @opes-magnas @l-g-h3ron​

[prose-for-hire]

Cordy the vampire slayer

Cordy and Buffy Bodyswap au

Request: Hi, if you have time could you write a Buffy and Cordelia Body Swap fanfic? Set in the early episodes of Season 2? Giles tells Buffy about a special holiday for slayers, where the slayer can temporarily switch bodies with anyone she chooses and after an argument with Cordy, Buffy accidentally makes her choice. The only problem was that Giles never got to finish telling Buffy how long the switch would last — three months!

Requested by: Anon + @archiefan23​ 

A/N: Just a little warning that Cordy kisses Angel as Buffy at one point. I really enjoyed this one !! Sorry it took so long to post love 💖

It was late morning. But the heat was rising by the minute. It was the kind of sunny day that held a multitude of possibilities. The temperature in the high school library was warmer still, but not uncomfortably so. It surrounded them in a glow that marked the beginning of summer. The kind of summer they hoped would spell demons and the like taking the same long break to sunbathe as they wished to.

Giles was in his usual suit, he wore his old faithful no matter the weather. The others figured there must be some kind of magic, breathable material tailored to him as otherwise he would be sweating buckets.

Xander, Buffy and Cordelia were waiting for Willow to arrive as Giles paced, figuring out how exactly to begin his speech without boring the teenagers to death. Unfortunately, this particular battle was one that would never be won.

Willow arrived, apologising and rushing to sit beside Xander giving him a bright smile. Giles nodded at her before turning to reveal

Giles sets the green, jagged stone in the centre of the table. Everyone just stared. It had begun to glow. The first time in a few decades.

“In every generation-”

“Oh I know this one!”

“-Yeah, there is a chosen one, yada yada-”

“No, well – yes. But, that was not what I was explaining. It is good, however, that you do actually heed what I tell you”

“God, Giles, nobody can forget it”

“I have dreams of that speech” Willow agreed.

“Nightmares” Xander added, shuddering.

“Yes, well, moving on from that enthused rally of support – in every generation there is a moment in the Slayer’s life where her consciousness may switch with that of a human. It is tradition that this would allow her to hone her skill and-”

“Well, I’m sold” Buffy shrugged, thinking of all of the free time she could have.

“-It was, ah, a vacation in some way and in others it was a sentence upon the woman that she swapped forms with”

“A sentence? Like, she had to write a paper on being a Slayer for the day? That’s horrible” Cordy said as Willow and Xander rolled their eyes at each other.

“Well, no – no nothing like this. The woman would endure being the slayer and survive unscathed would walk on the path of the righteous. She could be mythologised depending on how well she adapts to the gift”

“Yeah, like it could even be that hard!” Cordelia immediately scoffed whilst filing her nails.

“You wouldn’t last a minute, Cor”

“Oh yeah? Try me. I could slay twice as good as you!” she insisted indignantly, her hands on her hips.

“Yeah but Buffy would still get all the credit – you would be operating her body like some kind of whacky sci-fi feature” Xander added which made Cordy consider it. But, nonetheless she snatched up the stone and gestured for Buffy to do the same.

“Well, like, we would all know”

Buffy was pleased, mostly she wanted to have the day off. She thought Cordy had a pretty sweet gig. She was popular, athletic and people seemed to respect her. Plus she had seen the barista in the local coffee shop always gave her free Frappuccino’s.

So, they agreed. Giles asked several times if they were sure and they both raised an eyebrow and tried to get him to hurry up. Cordy decided she could track Devon down and show him exactly what he deserved for ignoring her for so long.

Giles put his hands over theirs who were clasped around the stone, palms glowing green as he recited the ancient rites. They stared at each other, their own bodies and facial expressions looked almost alien. It was really strange and Buffy couldn’t stop staring down at Cordy’s hands that were now hers.

The bell went and everyone went their separate ways. This could be fun, both thought at the exact same time. Cordy and Buffy couldn’t stop beaming for the entire day. They were really enjoying the swap. Cordelia would even write a paper on her day she was in such a good mood.

Cordy immediately skipped her morning classes and went to the beauty salon, to try and do something about Buffy’s hair and nightmare she called nailbeds. She was doing the girl a favour and it relaxed her anyway.

She found Devon and flipped him over her head with ease, warning him to call Cordelia back which he insisted he would and scrambled away. She dusted her hands off and put her hands on her hips proudly.

Buffy on the other hand went to all of Cordelia’s classes with little to think about other than whether that hot guy at the back was staring at her. She could just sit there with little expectation of her and enjoy it. She didn’t have to think about anything and it was really fun. She didn’t even mind sitting for Harmony for half an hour discussing the merits of a new hair serum.

It was going well. That first day was the easiest one and they were both convinced the other had it easy still. That was, until the revelation Giles was about to bestow on them. It was the end of the day and both met at the Library at the end of the day.

They returned to Giles in order to switch back. They just presumed this holiday was for a day before they were allowed to turn back. When they said this, Giles had to break it to them. Giles squinted, realising he hadn’t explained properly. They would be doing this for three months. At this revelation both of them began speaking over each other in their horror.

“That’s not a vacation, that’s squatting! This is a human rights violation, she should be paying rent to be living in there” Cordelia, from inside Buffy’s body, screeched.

“You should call your lawyer. Oh, wait – is he my lawyer now?” Buffy asked, deep in thought.

“Perhaps, uh, this will prove a pivotal part of understanding the other’s-”

“Oh my God! This is so not happening!” Cordelia spoke over Giles’ probably very profound explanation and instead stormed away.

She got in her car and started to drive towards her house, realising that she couldn’t go home. She scowled and reversed, driving to Revello Drive and tried to figure out which of the tiny box rooms was hers.

Buffy stayed with Giles and tried to see if there was a quick fix, but there was honestly nothing that he could do. He offered to drive her to Cordelia’s house and insisted that he would be there for her and Cordelia for the next few months.

The first month:

It had been a struggle. Neither of them were communicating much and Gies had insisted that the slayer still had to

It was ruining Cordy’s social life (not that she was convinced that Buffy had one anyway). She turned up to school after being driven by Joyce which she found kind of embarrassing but again, didn’t really mind seeing as nobody would know it was her.

Buffy’s arm was in a sling as she walked through the corridors. Cordelia had been trying to slay the night before and had fallen awkwardly onto her arm. No thanks to the real Buffy, who hadn’t come to help her.

As she was passed by herself, she reached and clasped her good hand around her wrist and pulled her with her. She tried to struggle but her new superstrength gave her the upper hand.

“Bathroom. Now!” Cordy squinted at herself and pulled Buffy with her again when she didn’t move of her own accord. Cordelia checked that the bathroom was empty before rounding on her.

“You know… if that happened last night your arm should be healed. Benefit of the slayer deal” Buffy offered before she could open her mouth, still trying to get used to navigating Cordelia’s body.

“Oh, yeah, I know - it’s fine. I just wanted a little sympathy but everyone kinda ignores you in the halls, huh?” she muttered, taking the sling from her shoulder and trashing it.

“Well-”

“Not the point! Where were you last night?! There was a vampire and it was like he knew every punch I was gonna throw!”

“How rude of him”

“I know!” Cordy agreed before stopping, realising Buffy wasn’t actually as invested as she was.

It was weird to Buffy how easily she had slid into being the popular girl again but it was a complete breath of relief. As if the entire world had been removed from her shoulders. She felt so much lighter.

“Ugh, just ‘cause you’re so boring and take slaying so seriously and vampires are like obsessed with you doesn’t mean that you have to be such a bitch!”

“I’m a bitch? You’re the queen of b-”

“You’re so gonna regret this, Buffy, I could make your high school career a living hell! Worse than any Hellmouth-!”

“Do you know what? I’m Cordelia Chase – I don’t take crap from anyone! Have a nice slay, oh, I mean day!” Buffy smiled overly sweetly before walking away. Cordy screamed in frustration, slamming her hand against a bathroom stall and ending up punching her entire fist through it in her frustration. Leaving her screaming again, but this time the door took the brunt of her annoyance.

After their exchange in the bathroom, both women decided they were going to make the most of the swap. By messing with the other and their lives. They were set on annoying the other just like they annoyed them.

Both ended up bickering more than usual if they ever saw passed each other. They started to say things or do things slightly out of character to annoy the person whose real life it was. This carried on for a few weeks. Cordelia started to show her strength more obviously, making more and more people question Buffy. Buffy started to pretend she couldn’t pick up even the easiest part of choreography for cheerleading.

Then, one day something happened that Cordelia saw as the final straw. Buffy walked in, as Cordelia, with her hair in a complete mess. She didn’t style Cordy’s hair and walked around all day with a birds nest. Cordy grabs her and tries to style it out, attacking her with a hair brush.

“Does my face really do that when I’m annoyed?”

“All the time” She replied, rolling her eyes. She tried to brush her hair again, but it was no use.

“No, I think the style’s really gonna catch on” Cordelia’s own face was smiling infuriatingly back at her. She was horrified. She was sure that she would never live this down. Her hair looked horrific.

“Fine. Then- then I’ll let everyone know I’m a slayer. I’m sure your Mom-”

“Cordelia! You can’t!”

“Then someone will have to discover that a tangle teaser is our friend”

Buffy soon realises that Cordelia means it and eventually gives in, which allows them a tenuous truce from there on in.

Cordelia and Buffy walked back home in the dark together, mostly in silence. They walk side by side until Buffy says goodnight and walks towards Cordelia’s house which would probably be empty when she got there. Cordelia warned her she wasn’t allowed to drive her car, she didn’t trust her.

It suddenly begins to hit each of them though, as they walked their separate ways. That their lives aren’t quite as easy as they expected.

Cordy realised she’s suddenly making all the tough decisions. The responsibility on her shoulders. Everyone automatically looked at her for guidance, to make the decisions – just because she had Buffy’s face. It was actually really hard.

Not to mention, Joyce’s parenting style was almost suffocating to her and Cordelia barely held back her snapping. She wasn’t used to someone asking after her every movement.

Plus, it was absolutely exhausting juggling slaying, sneaking out and pretending to be normal. She didn’t know why Buffy bothered. Because some gross men said so, like years ago? Cordy insisted if she was Buffy she would have quit. But, again, here she was still playing along even for the next few months without refusing to slay.

 Meanwhile, Buffy was feeling how acutely Cordelia’s loneliness appeared to bleed into every aspect of her life. At home, she wasn’t really listened to no matter how rude or loud that she was. Her parents were rarely ever present and when they were it was to give her gifts to make up for all the time they were about to spend away again.

Buffy didn’t enjoy hanging out with Harmony and the rest of Cordy’s friends. None of them seemed to genuinely care about the other. Or share any meaningful bond. In fact, it didn’t seem that they cared for anyone except themselves and as soon as one walked away, they appeared to immediately begin to be rude about the others.

These new realities they have been planted in, these new perspectives gave them both something to think on. But it didn’t take from the fact that they were still so very annoyed with the other.

Month Two:

They had a lot of time to think, while living the other’s life. There was chance to reflect on themselves and the life of the other. In some sense, they were jealous and completely relieved there was an end to this.

The pair had began to bond a little more since the previous month where they were at each other’s throats. There was something about literally living another’s life that made them suddenly bonded together. Even if they didn’t really want to be.

Buffy just tried to avoid Cordy’s friends as much as possible rather than being rude to them. She didn’t want to upset Cordelia’s chance at popularity too much – she was starting to get it now, it was the way that Cordy could feel better about herself.

Towards the end of the second month, Cordelia had got into the swing of slaying by herself since those first rocky weeks. She found herself enjoying the daily exercise routine (she decided she would totally be bringing that back with her when they swapped back).

Cordelia and Buffy had been spending a lot more time together. Cordelia was in her own room – finally. Buffy’s home was a lot smaller, something she called ‘cute’ to her face but Buffy knew what she meant by it.

“When you said have a walk in your shoes, I wasn’t expecting to have to run the vampire-mile in last season’s boots” Cordy huffed, combing through the blonde hair she was still trying to get accustomed to while she looked in the mirror. She was getting angry at it, it was near-impossible to maintain in the way she was used to. Buffy always made it look so pretty. She missed her own brunette hair. She missed the way people would cower as she walked through the halls. She missed not having to

But, she liked that she could relax around the Scoobies and not have to worry about her image, not that she would admit it of course.

“Well, I always wear a heel that has a supportive ankle - y’know, for maximum slayage” Buffy shrugged and smiled, filing her nails in the way that Cordelia usually would. The change was a lot easier for Buffy seeing as this was the life she lived in Emery. It was sort of nostalgic to relive her more carefree years.

“It’s not even that hard, Cordelia. I mean, I don’t know how you hang out with Harmony and those other girls. They’re so shallow and kinda cruel” Buffy held herself back from including Cordy in the kind of girl that was cruel too.

Buffy, despite noticing the drawbacks of Cordy’s life really needed the holiday. She didn’t have any responsibility. She didn’t have to lift a finger at home and she could basically do whatever she liked whenever she liked. Cordelia’s parents barely even saw her.

“But, it never stops! Ever!”

“You’re doing this for what? Another month. You’re doing such a great job – really. Just let me have this last month and then everything goes back to normal”

“That’s easy for you to say! I mean, I have to be the Slayer and what? No soul-having hunk of goodness on my arm!?” Cordelia continued to whine as she got the comb caught in her blonde hair again. She tugged too hard and snapped the object clean in half. She groaned in annoyance. That was the last straw. She huffed and threw the pieces of the comb to the vanity table.

Buffy bit back a smile at Cordy’s overreaction. It was the opposite for her, an inconvenience not to have her strength. She felt weak and had a newfound appreciation for how her friends managed to fight vampires without any powers at their disposal.

However, Cordelia was sick of superstrength and vampire dust that seemed to get everywhere. This gave her an idea that would stay in the back of her mind. Cordy remembered that Angel had been out of town and would be returning for Buffy’s birthday. Interesting.

Buffy looked up, feeling sorry for Cordy. She knew how it felt to be out of your depth and she didn’t have the same kind of support system that Buffy did. Despite Buffy enjoying the freedom she had, she knew that this meant Cordelia wasn’t close with her parents. And her friends were shallow and wholly unsupportive. This realisation is why she offered what she did.

“Cordy? I can help, you know. With the slaying” Buffy offered softly. She was starting to realise she had just left Cordelia to it. Had begun by making her actual life harder too. It made the other woman look over, raising an eyebrow.

“Why would you want to help me?” Cordelia squinted as if she was suspicious, but Buffy just shrugged.

It made each woman think about why they had agreed to swap and what it would mean to work together rather than struggle alone. They nodded at each other, not really sure where they stood with the other.

Month three:

By the third month, both women knew the drill. Buffy would help train Cordelia and provide her with the most knowledge she could about slaying and how to improve. Which, the girl was surprisingly taking in her stride. She had slain three vampires by herself and with a very artistic flourish the night previous.

Cordelia used Buffy’s strength to her advantage spinning into a kick that would have made her overbalance before. She landed a few blows this time before she was thrown into a gravestone. She got up immediately, not allowing herself to stay down. She then charged at the vampire, plunging the stake into his chest leaving him dust in the wind.

She grinned in excitement. It truly was getting easier that slaying gig. She knew she was right – she could totally do it.

“Yeah! Take that, creep!” Cordy shouted at the pile of dust before jumping up and down over how easily she had taken that vamp down.

“Now we just need to work on your puns” Buffy added, her arms crossed as she watched.

“Only people with nothing interesting to say uses puns… oh, and you, obviously” Cordy added with a little shrug. They decided to call it a night and both were only hoping that no apocalypses threatened whilst they were still swapped. She was getting good but still.

During this time, Cordelia had also given Buffy pointers about how to enhance her popularity. To follow the age-old saying ‘Be more Cordy’. She helped her make up with Harmony by buying her something expensive and definitely not apologising to her.

It was still hard and Cordelia was always complaining whilst simultaneously gushing about the work-out routine she was picking up from this swap. She insisted she was going to do a slayer-inspired exercise video and make, like, millions from it which always made Buffy roll her eyes.

Buffy was sitting with her now usual gang of Cordettes hanging around her. She was counting to one hundred mentally in her mind until she would make an excuse and leave them to go to the library. She just hoped that she wouldn’t get seen entering again or face another war of passive-aggression with Harmony. This was one daily battle that she would rather take on an apocalypse over.

“So, what about you and Devon? He’s totally hot” Harmony afforded, “Not as much as my guy, obviously, but some people just have to lower their expectations right?” She smiled sweetly in that way Buffy had now become accustomed to.

“Yeah, Mr invisible sounds totally hot” Buffy quipped, knowing she could at least get away with that. It made the others giggle. Harmony always talking about this mystery guy but nobody had ever seen him.

Buffy sighed as she thought about all of the men she had encountered since she had swapped bodies with Cordy, and what they had propositioned to her at the Bronze. Buffy realised that men tended to try to use Cordelia and then just as quickly begin to ignore her. She does use her looks but she never ends up getting what she wants. She wants a committed relationship, companionship. It made Buffy really sad for her, she finally understood what Cordelia meant about being lonely despite having so many people around her.

She then turns to Harmony and insists, scarily exactly like Cordy would, that he was a total burnout loser with no prospects and even less in his pockets. Total no-go. The way gossip worked at Sunnydale, Devon would be blacklisted by anyone who was anyone by the final bell.

Which, is something she probably wouldn’t have done if she had known what Cordelia was planning to do that evening.

Cordy greeted Angel that evening and he smiled. It was Buffy walking towards him, how could he not smile? Angel opened his mouth to say something but she immediately crashed her lips to his. She kissed urgently, a hint of desperation and need that he would have found nice if it had actually been Buffy kissing him.

He frowned, somehow he could just sense that something wasn’t right. He stilled her, his hands on her upper arm. He pulls back, scanning her face. He squints, not sure if he should say something.

“You’re not…”

“Oh, come on… baby, I’m the slayer and you’re the soulfully good vampire. Let’s- do it” Cordy used her best seductive face, which admittedly worked better with her own features but she worked with what she had.

“Buffy, maybe we should… patrol” angel said, his voice wavered as his forehead furrowed. Something just wasn’t right.

Buffy sighed deeply and rolled her eyes and it reminded him of someone. She turned to leave but he called to her before she did, “Cordelia?” Angel tried and Buffy’s eyes met his immediately.

“How…?”

“You’re not her…” Angel admitted, looking at the floor.

“But I look like her, I’m stuck here with her entire wardrobe! What’s the big?” She sighed, her loneliness bubbling back to the surface. Ashe didn’t know whether to lash out or just cry at the rejection. She was a strong person and yet she was crumbling at the way that even as Buffy who appeared to have everything she couldn’t replicate it the same.

“Love isn’t about looks. Or, how nice your outfits are, which, um – they are pretty” He assured her, trying to soften the blow, “It-it’s something you feel deep inside. Something you know without having to question or second-guess yourself. It’s… her”

Cordy sat on the side of her bed and Angel sat beside her, comforting her. She was upset at this. Nobody had ever felt so deeply for her, she was sure of it. And it stung.

“Why does nobody like me for me? Why do I do everything and still have nobody?”

“You’re a great girl-” Angel started awkwardly, not really sure how to comfort the girl. But at these words, Cordelia suddenly stood up and left, running to Buffy’s house and hiding in her room. Just hiding her tears until she closed Buffy’s bedroom door behind her. She wanted a love story. Why did she feel like a secondary character in her own life?

The next day at school, it was finally the day. The day that Cordelia and Buffy were supposed to swap back.

Angel had explained to Buffy what had happened (although his eye contact was anywhere but her face as he found it weird to be so comfortable talking to Cordy this way). But rather than Buffy flipping out, as she might have done say three months earlier, she realised exactly why Cordy would have tried it on with Angel. Especially so after realising just how lonely it can be living Cordy’s life.

“Cor, I know what happened last night”

“Oh, yeah? What is loser just stamped on my forehead?” Cordy sighed and when she saw the look her own face was giving her she understood. Buffy wasn’t trying to be cruel or laugh at her rejection. She softened slightly, “I’m sorry okay? I am”

“Look, I know we’re not close-”

“And our hair is a very different style and texture” Cordy added without thinking.

“Our slaying abilities are different too” Buffy muttered under her breath and then shook her head at herself. She really was easily sucked into being the popular girl, “We’re not close but we’re a lot more similar than I ever thought. I get it, okay?”

Buffy took Cordelia’s hand in her own and offered her a comforting gesture. So much was left unsaid and yet both felt understood by the other in a way that had never really happened before.

“It’s tough at the top and we’re just both at the top of our worlds” Cordelia nodded along. Buffy’s the slayer of slayers and she slays the rest of the student body to be the most popular. It can be so lonely at the top and both understood the other in a much different way than they ever had before.

Cordy’s words made Buffy smile but she nodded. It was easier for Cordelia to express herself this way. Both of them were glad that they were changing back but they would miss the way that their weird friendship had blossomed through the last three months.

They understood completely now the pressure the other was under. Their points of view. Their lives. They were both hard in their own way. Maintaining Cordelia’s popularity alone was exhausting.

Giles returned to the library, nodding at the pair of them. Telling them that he was proud of the pair of them. Cordelia really had proved herself and Buffy had shown herself as someone who can support others and allow them to learn under her guidance. This admittance made both women gasp, both of them longed for a father figure and Giles saying this made both of them remember this moment for a long time after.

He recited the words, safe in the knowledge that both girls had learnt to work together in the way he had hoped upon his suggestion. Buffy needed to take a step back to have a break to appreciate her gift whilst understanding she had allies she could equally turn to for support.

A green hue lit up the room as their bodies swapped back. There was a final rush of cold air, making them both shiver and instinctually step back from each other.

This was right. Their own body, lives, returned to them. They shared a smile, a small nod of understanding before Buffy launched herself at Cordy. Pulling her into a hug. Both of their eyes were watering, it had been a long past three months.

The girls had never felt close, mostly because they hadn’t really understood the other. Not like this. But now they were sure that they would keep this bond for the rest of their lives.

[thepokyone]

Belong

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Content/Warnings: angst, fluff

Words: 1899

A/N: A fic? From me? Sounds unbelievable. I’m not back to writing here consistently, but I had inspiration from my own life and had to write out all the feels. Shout out to @spideywhiteys​ for hyping me up to post this. If Steve is OOC, well... you know, it’s fine.

“I need to tell you something.” Steve interrupted your peaceful musings as he stepped into your field of view, one hand absently rubbing the back of his neck.

“You know you can tell me anything, Steve,” you said, straightening and patting the seat beside you on the couch. More often than not he spent a majority of his time in your apartment, which was currently decorated for Christmas. A fire was blazing merrily in the hearth, and that was what had occupied your attention before Steve had directed it towards himself.

He sat, his knee bumping against yours. “I’m scared of what you might say.”

“Steve, I’ve taken a bullet for you on more than one occassion. There’s very little you could say or do to get rid of me at this point,” you said, playfully hitting your shoulder against his.

Steve returned your grin with a weak one of his own. “If you say so. I hope so. But you have to promise that nothing will change.”

“Of course not, Steve.” But you had a sinking feeling you knew exactly what he was about to say and that, no matter what either of you may believe, your friendship would never quite be the same.

“Okay. Um,” he took a breath, his earnest eyes staring into yours as he said, “I like you, Y/N. As more than a friend. I just… I wanted to know if there’s a chance that we could be more.”

“Steve.” You exhaled, hating him for bringing feelings into this and hating yourself more for not being able to reciprocate them. “You’re my best friend. But I don’t know if I can ever see you as anything more. How long have you…”

“Felt like this?” He finished, laughing uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I went to sleep one night with you as my best friend and woke up the next morning caring about you in a way that could never be seen as platonic.”

It wasn’t a straight answer. You had suspected his feelings for a while; Steve had worn his heart on his sleeve for as long as you had known him. But you didn’t push. “Okay. I’m sorry, Steve. Really. You deserve someone amazing. I know you’ll find her. I’m just not sure that person could ever be me.”

“Don’t feel bad. You’re not responsible for my feelings. So long as I didn’t just completely ruin our friendship,” he said.

“You didn’t, I promise. We’re still best friends, that hasn’t changed,” you said, giving him a reassuring smile.

You couldn’t, however, dispel the feeling that everything had irreversibly changed.

“I’m glad. I don’t think I could get along without you,” he said, a note of relief in his voice. “I’ll leave you to, uh…” he gestured towards the fire I had been so transfixed on before.

“You’re welcome to stay, Steve,” you said softly.

He shook his head. “No, but thank you. I have errands to run. I’ll see you later.”

He left so quickly after bidding you goodbye that you barely had a chance to do the same. You groaned, placing your head in your hands. Steve had said things wouldn’t change because of this, and so had you.

But you knew, deep down, that things had changed anyway.

Steve spent much less time at your apartment, instead spending most of his time with Sam. You found yourself spending time with Bobby, who lived in the apartment a few doors down. He was friendly enough, but he was no replacement for Steve’s company. Bobby spent a lot of time talking about himself and his accomplishments. It was annoying and mind-numbing, but it was company.

“Sorry we’re not spending more time together,” Steve said when you bumped into each other on your way out of your respective apartments. “I can’t stand Bobby, though, and with you two spending so much time together…”

“I understand,” you said. “He’s tiring.”

“He’s too proud of himself,” Steve said in disgust.

You grinned. “I agree. It’s like he has nothing else to talk about.”

“No manners at all. His mother should be ashamed of herself.”

You both laughed, and something in the air between you seemed to settle. Things were returning to normal. “I agree.”

Slowly but surely, Steve began to invite himself into your apartment again and the time spent together was no longer awkward. 

But of course things wouldn’t stay that way for long. This time, though, was entirely your fault. It was funny, really, how the same sort of change in sentiment that had taken hold of Steve overnight seemed to have washed over you as well.

Because at one moment he was just Steve, your metaphorical brother, your best friend, and the next moment he was Steve, your best friend, the one person in the entire world who knew you as intimately as you knew yourself. Steve, who had been with you through thick and thin. Steve, who made you feel like the safest person in the world. Steve.

It had always been Steve. How had you been so blind not to notice before? This was nothing like the butterflies that stormed in your stomach around a crush or the heat that burned in your cheeks at the attention of a charming member of the opposite sex. This was something deeper, something so much more profound that it took you several moments of reflection to truly place.

Love. Of course you loved him. He was your best friend. But he was so much more than that, wasn’t he? He had been something more than that for some time, and you had just been too dense to realize it.

You and Steve had belonged to each other far before either had ever realized. You belonged to one another when you shared your uncertainties and when he shared his past. You belonged to one another when the two of you laughed so hard you cried and when you cried until there were no tears left. You belonged to one another when you took long walks and talked about everything and nothing at all.

You belonged to one another because being with one another was like being home. You belonged to one another against all opposition and expectation and you loved him like it was the most natural thing in the world. You wondered how you had never noticed it before.

“I’m thinking we spend quarantine tonight watching movies and eating takeout, what do you think?” Steve asked, letting himself into your apartment as you were making an omelet and musing over your unexpected feelings.

Your lips curled upwards of their own volition at the sight of him. “Sure, Steve. That sounds great.”

“Good. You know Sam doesn’t think we should be hanging out, because of the virus? For your sake, not mine. I’m not entirely sure I can get sick anymore,” Steve said thoughtfully, plopping down on your couch and watching you cook over the back. “You’re quiet. Everything alright?”

“Fine. Just had an interesting realization, is all,” you said. You knew you had to tell him how you felt, even if it was in vain, even if he had moved on after his confession to you several months ago. But it could wait.

“Anything you care to share?” Steve asked. You sat down beside him, tucking your legs underneath yourself.

“Have you ever thought about the fact that your shield is basically a frisbee?” I asked bluntly, laughing at his offended expression. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s true!”

“My shield is not a frisbee,” Steve said firmly, but the edges of his mouth were twitching.

“You throw it like a frisbee, though.”

“Do you know of any other frisbee that protects against bullets?” He retorted.

“Any frisbee could be a shield if it was made of vibranium. Face it, your shield is actually just a fancy, indestructible frisbee. I don’t make the rules,” you said.

Steve laughed, shaking his head, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. You had never loved him more. “Fine, if you say so. I guess this just makes me the best frisbee player of all time.”

“Damn straight,” you said, and your confession was put off until another time. Tonight, you told yourself. You’ll tell him tonight.

Tonight came quicker than you would have liked, and Steve entered your apartment with his arms full of food bought from the Chinese takeout restaurant down the street. “What will we be watching tonight?”

“Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring, it’s a classic and you still haven’t seen it yet,” you said, waving the DVD cartridge in his face.

“Sounds like an adventure,” he said, passing you your food. You popped in the disc. You didn’t have to tell him about your feelings this second. Later is fine.

You ran out of excuses to delay any further as the credits rolled on Fellowship of the Ring. Steve was yawning, his eyes half-closed as you removed the DVD and returned it to its case.

“Steve?” You asked tentatively, curling up on the end of the couch.

“Hmm?” Steve lifted his head off his chest to look at you.

Your mouth dried. “Do you remember, around Christmas, when you told me about…”

“Yes. How could I forget?” He was more awake now, surveying you with curiosity. “Why? Things didn’t change, just like we both agreed.”

“I changed,” you said quietly.

“What?”

“You were right. You go to sleep one night and wake up the next morning with feelings you didn’t even know you had,” you said.

“What?” He repeated, softer this time. “I thought-”

“So did I. But something changed, and I- I care about you, a lot. And I thought, if you could be brave enough to say something, all those months ago, then so could I. Even if you don’t feel the same anymore,” you said.

“Y/N,” he murmured, as if your name had been made for his tongue.

“Can we make the same deal, then?” You asked, resigned.

“We’re going to need to make a new deal,” Steve said, his voice barely a whisper.

“I don’t understand.” You were whispering, too. As if the two of you were afraid that whatever was in the air between you would evaporate if you spoke at normal volume.

“My feelings haven’t changed,” he said. 

You allowed yourself to hope, as you hadn’t allowed yourself to hope before, that there may still be a chance after all. “You still- even after all this time?”

“I never stopped. I never could.” Steve pressed a hand to your cheek, and you hadn’t even realized the two of you had drawn so close together until your forehead was pressed against his.

“Are you sure?” You whispered. He could do so much better.

“Are you?” He asked in response. Perhaps he thought the same.

“Yes.” Your lips met, hesitant at first, and then the two of you melted into one another, as if you had already kissed each other a thousand times. Your hand slipped into his hair, fingers curling around the soft strands as he drew you closer to him, not once breaking away until you were both gasping for breath. Your noses bumped together and you smiled in unison.

This was right, this was natural. Being with Steve had always been the easiest thing in the world.

You were just glad you had finally realized.

Tag List: @alittlebitofmagic @bluebird214 @lovely-geek @fleurs-en-ruines @loki-god-of-my-life @awesomehaylzus @ldyhawkeye @marvel-biatch @caswinchester2000 @ilovetvshowsblog @strawberry-ella @lovehelpmewrite @aheadfullofsherlock @pencils-pens-and-paper

[padfootagain]

The Flower Shop Around The Corner (X)

Part 10: The Night

 Here I come again with a new chapter! We're so close to the end, guys!! I'll post the next and last part very soon. Also, we have reached over 30900 words with this story! So thank you for sticking around all the way through and beyond these 100 pages :D

Here we go, I hope you like this part, tell me what you think about it, okay?

Gif not mine

Word Count: 3089

His pace was confident as he climbed up the stairs to your apartment. It was fast, and devouring two steps at a time, not caring for the way his heart sped up under the effort.

He had been saying again and again in his head the words he meant to confess to you while on his way to your home. They were close to the ones he had written in this letter of his, although a little different, he guessed. The meaning was the same though.

He finally reached your door, a little out of breath, but he wasn't sure if it was because of his nerves or the climb to the fourth floor.

He took a deep breath before he would knock on your door. He tried to calm down, but found that he couldn't.

It was better this way. If he told you now, before things would get too far with either himself or Wallet Guy. He heard you walking to the door, and found himself wishing he could stop his heart altogether because it was beating so fast…

He had to speak the whole truth, before you would get hurt. Before you would both get hurt. Maybe you could forgive him. Carlotta had said that you were starting to like Chris too. He had a chance. He simply needed not to blow it up, which meant that he needed to enter your flat and tell you the whole truth as fast as he could.

It would be alright. And if it wasn't alright? Well, he would have tried, at least. He would have done his best. It was too late to take it all back anyway, all he could do now was to limit the damages he had caused.

You finally opened your door, welcoming him with a shy smile.

That wasn't butterflies flying in his stomach anymore, these were true fireworks exploding, sparks spreading all the way up through his veins to his heart.

"Hi! Come in," you moved to the side, and he thanked you with a nod as he walked inside.

You took his jacket and asked him where Dodger was.

"Home. He'll be fine. I've given him all his medicine."

"Right… Do you want to drink anything?"

You were fidgeting, clearly nervous. But he needed you calm and relaxed to confess everything to you…

"No, thank you. I'm fine," he shook his head.

He finally searched for your eyes, but regretted it as soon as he met your gaze. Now that he was staring at you, he wasn't sure to be able to speak the words he so desperately needed to utter.

No, no… he couldn't do it…

He clenched his jaw, and turned his hands into fists. It didn't matter if he couldn't tell you. He had to. It wasn't an option. There was no pushing the issue to tomorrow, he was running out of time.

"Y/N…"

"Chris…"

You spoke at the same time, the same urgency in both your voices.

He could read a fragility in your eyes that he wasn't used to witness. He guessed that you wanted to talk about the kiss…

… maybe he could tell you everything right after he had cleared the air about that issue.

"Go ahead," he invited you to speak first, and you gave him a weak nod.

You struggled to swallow, looking for the right words, but your mind was blank. You had imagined a full speech in your head before Chris arrived – or well, more like a hundred version of that speech - but now, you merely stuttered instead.

"I… Maybe I'm just being ridiculous but I… I need to ask you… Because, the truth is… it's driving me insane. Not knowing."

You shakily breathed in a little bit of air, but it felt like your lungs refused to open for it and kept on pushing the oxygen out instead.

"I… I mean, that kiss… That wasn't my first on-screen kiss… obviously… but… it had never felt like that. Is that… Is it just me? Or…"

Your voice broke, and you needed a few seconds to get it back.

"Or did you mean that kiss too?"

Chris stopped breathing altogether.

"You meant it?" he asked in a shaky whisper.

"You didn't… feel it… like it was… more?"

He took a moment to find the right words. He had only one shot at this, and he knew it. Could he really answer that question earnestly without telling you everything first? How he knew you more than you thought he did, how he had fallen for you, why he was so scared of losing you…

But you took his stretching silence for an answer he didn't mean.

You took a couple of steps back, letting out a nervous and heartbroken laugh.

"Right, right. Silly me! I must be so tired, I'm imagining things now!" you shook your head. "Dear God, Chris, I'm so sorry. This is so embarrassing…"

"No, no…"

"You don't have to be kind to me. You… you wanted to tell me something, and instead, here I come, with my crazy fairytales and I…"

You heaved a frustrated sigh, doing your best to withhold the tears that were forming at the corners of your eyes.

"What did you want to talk about anyway? It sounded important."

There were words on the tip of his tongues, but he couldn't speak them. Not now. Three words. How crazy was it that three little words could mean everything. But he couldn’t just blurt it all out this way. He bit his tongue instead.

He had to tell you everything now. It was the moment, wasn't it? He had to tell you that he wasn't just Chris, that he was Wallet Guy too.

He opened his mouth to let it all out. He remembered some of the words in the letter he had written but hadn't had the courage to show you. It was the moment to speak them out loud instead.

And yet, no sound would leave his throat.

He stared at you, stared at your trembling lips, stared at your eyes so filled with emotions he felt too.

If he told you the truth, he would lose you. Maybe. Probably. What were the odds?

But you doubted him as Chris now, because of this kiss, because you weren't sure of how he felt for you. He had to reassure you about that first, the more he thought about it, the more he could see that it was the best thing to do.

He searched for other words then. This time, words of reassurance instead of explanation. How to calm you down, tell you he felt the same, that this kiss… Christ, it was everything but meaningless. And yet, when he opened his mouth to speak, he found that no words truly expressed what he meant to tell you.

So instead, he acted on an impulse, closed the distance between the two of you in two long strides, held your face in both his hands and crushed his lips to yours.

You needed a few seconds to realize what was happening, but as soon as your brain processed the fact that Chris's lips were glued to yours, you reciprocated the kiss.

When you finally broke apart, out of breath, you pulled away just enough to look at him.

A little smile appeared on Chris's lips as he caught your gaze.

"Does that answer your question?" he asked with a humorous and yet tender smile growing across his features.

"Kind of," you nodded.

He cleared his throat before speaking once more.

"Would you mind terribly if I… did that again?"

"Please, do," your voice was a little bit more desperate than what you wanted it to sound like when you answered, but Chris didn't seem to notice.

He was too busy kissing you again.

And again.

And again.

The little voice in his head that kept on reminding him that he should stop, pull away, and talk with you was shushed more and more with every kiss, every touch, every shared breath.

Tell you the truth. Tell you the whole truth…

Instead, your hold on him tightened as his lips glided across your skin from your mouth to your neck, and a jolt of electricity ran through his spine as you gasped under his touch.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked in a shaky breath, stopping his movements for just a second.

You let out a little laugh.

"Do I look like I want you to stop?" you asked him as you held him yet a little closer.

"Not really."

"Then don't stop."

But after a couple of minutes more spent kissing you, as you started to guide him across your flat, he broke away again.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

You were both standing in the middle of the corridor leading to your bedroom, out of breath, holding on each other so tightly, as if you were afraid he would leave if you let go a little, as if he was scared you would disappear in thin air and he would wake up from his dream if he didn't hold you so. Your hair, just like his, was a mess already, but you couldn't find a way to care. You let your fingers trail down the line of his buttoned shirt, but didn't dare to get rid of them before Chris would be back at kissing you.

There was something so intense going through your heart and veins as you stood there, in his arms. It wasn't just desire, it was something more profound, more personal, something that echoed with your very essence. Something that looked a lot like love.

So… was that all it was about then? Was that how it was supposed to feel like? That intoxicating feeling that made your head dizzy, your heart pound, your skin tickle… Yes, somehow, you knew it was.

And for as long as you kept him close, there wasn't a thought of yours that could be wasted on the world outside your embrace, on your job, on your life and its complicated things, on Wallet Guy.

It was just you and Chris, and it was more than enough.

"I don't want you to regret this in the morning," he whispered, uncertain, fragile.

You could see in his blue eyes that he didn't hesitate, that he did want to go further. But you could also see right through his heart the fragility and the fear that you might not feel the same.

"Do you want us to stop? Grab a dinner instead?" he offered.

But you gave him a warm smile, shaking your head.

"No, I don't want to stop. Do you?"

"No."

"Then, let's kiss again."

"I don't want you to wake up tomorrow morning and regret this."

"I won't."

It sounded like a promise, and he believed you.

Finally, his lips were back on yours, and you could get rid of these buttons…

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

 Dawn was already there, creeping through the cracks of dark clouds, gold and pink and purple against a grey world. A little bit of that light came in through the window of your bedroom. You looked at the sunlight crossing the room, glimmering on tiny particles caught in the air, to land on your skin… and Chris's too.

A few particles of light got caught in his beard and hair, golden hues on darker shades. He was still asleep, his long eyelashes joined in two dark lines over his cheekbones, stretching out as if reaching for the sunlight too. His breathing was calm, soothing, and as you rested your hand again his chest, you felt his heartbeat echo under your touch.

You checked the time on the alarm clock on your bedside table. It was almost time…

If you wanted to go to flower shop and not be late to work, you should get up in a few minutes.

Would you go though?

Things had changed, and not in a bad way. Memories of the previous night with Chris came back to you and you couldn't help but let out a content sigh. What a wonderful night, and yet…

You had asked Wallet Guy to meet you. You needed to see his answer. You needed to see him. Was it for closure, or for the hope of a new beginning though?

Chris stirred by your side, his eyelids fluttering and opening. It didn't take him long to turn a sleepy pair of blue eyes towards you.

"Hi," he breathed with a groggy grin.

"Hi."

You were so beautiful like this, by his side. He trailed his thumb across your cheek. Damn, maybe all would turn out fine. Maybe he didn't need to tell you anything, after all. Maybe he could simply be with you, and nothing more. If he didn't tell you the truth, then no one would. It wasn't really lying, it was simply… omitting a fact to preserve you from unnecessary pain. Preserve both of you. Yes… yes, it could work…

"Is it late?" he asked in a voice made hoarse by sleep.

"No, it's quite early."

"Good."

He turned to his side to wrap his arm around you, and dropped a sweet kiss to your forehead, his beard tickling your skin.

"Are you alright?" he asked after a few moments spent holding each other close.

"Sure," you nodded, but he rolled his eyes.

"Why are so tensed up, then?"

You took a few seconds to reply, but he had already thought about a reason.

"Ha… you regret about last night, then…"

"No, no," you shook your head, pulling away just enough to stare at him. "I don't regret anything about last night, it was amazing."

"But?"

"But I…"

You fell silent again.

"Is it because we're colleagues? Because we won't be anymore in like… 5 days," he proposed, but you shook your head again.

"No. I don't regret what happened. Would you like some breakfast?"

But he didn't bite to the distraction.

"What is it then?"

"I just…"

The more you stared at his eyes, the more you knew that you couldn't lie to him. You needed to tell him.

"There's something we need to talk about."

"I'm all ears."

You ran a hand through his beard, up his cheek and to his hair. A tender, loving gesture that had his entire frame relax under your fingertips. How could you have such effect on him?

But you pulled away and sat up, pulling up the sheets to cover yourself up to your shoulders.

"I… I told you about that man I've been writing to," you said in a trembling voice.

Chris sat up as well next to you, struggling to keep a detached tone, but failing already.

"Yeah. What about him?"

"I… I've asked to see him. Yesterday morning. Before we… before this happened between us."

Chris frowned.

"You can say what happened between us. It's nothing wrong."

"That's not what I meant."

"That's what you make it sound like."

You gave him a pointed look, before complying.

"Before you and I had sex. Happy?"

"I don't see where you're going with this."

"I…" you stuttered, tripping on your words just like your heart was stumbling on a rhythm. "I need to see him. I told him I would. I have to."

"Because you promised him?"

"Because… I need to sort this out."

He slowly nodded. But despite his best efforts, it wasn't hard for you to see how much pain was passing through his eyes now.

He could feel it shattering, under his ribcage, this heart of his that had become yours as time passed and he learnt to know you. It wasn't your fault though. You had never claimed it as your own, the beating organ had decided to paint your name across its ventricles, and there was nothing either of you could do about it.

Still, it hurt so much…

"I see."

"It has nothing to do with you, and it's just... I need to see him, that's all."

"To tell him that you met me? That nothing can happen between you then? Or to choose between me and him?"

You didn't answer. You couldn't. Because you didn't know the answers to his questions either.

He let a sigh, but there was no anger in his gesture. No disappointment either. As if… he had been expecting it all to happen this way. And in a way, in his heart, he had.

He could tell you everything. Right now and then. Tell you that there was no need to set up a rendez-vous with this man, because you would be only waiting for him to come. Tell you he was sorry. Tell you, finally tell you, that he loved you…

Then, you could either accept him, kiss him, forgive him, or you could hate him for it. He could be with you, or lose you for good. It was a 50/50 chance.

And this morning, he wasn't ready to take that risk. He wasn't strong enough. He needed you, for just a little longer, even if it was just a dream, even if he would wake up and lose it all in a few hours. For now, you were there, and that was enough for him. He guessed he was just back to his original plan. He would tell you everything at lunch today.

"When will you meet him?" he asked, although he knew the answer already.

"Tonight, I hope. If he has accepted."

"Alright then. I guess the date night for tonight is out," he went on in a calm, forgiving voice.

"You're not angry?"

He shrugged.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing, I just… I thought you would be mad."

A sad smile formed on his lips, and he cupped your cheek.

"I want this," he answered earnestly. "You and me. I want it all. But then, you need to want it too. And if meeting him shows you what you need to see to decide, then so be it. Meanwhile… can we have this morning? Without thinking about him, about work, about anything just… us. Can you give me just this morning?"

You sank back into the bed, and he imitated you. You knew that time was ticking by, but you ignored it. You guessed you would be late at work today, it didn't matter. Chris mattered much more.

"Yeah. Yeah, we can have that."

And before you could speak again, Chris was kissing you again.

And again.

And again…

**************************************

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[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs,”Duality of the Soul.

Sorry I haven't posted for so long. We are at the beginning of finals week, and things have been stressful. Forgive me if the writing shows that.

Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

You don’t understand, they inhabit the flesh, they draw their power from the unknown, they hail from the ether. You have to listen to me.”

Around the room the assembled gathering of humans and other intergalactic species stared on in consternation, confusion and some measure of unease as the Gib scientist babbled on in manic desperation.

Krill sat to the side of Captain Vir staring down at the maddened intellectual in confused consternation. Captain Vir looked on in bemused silence prosthetic foot tapping silently against the ground below.

Just below them, splayed out behind a semicircular table, the galactic assembly sat in impatient silence. No two faces, or forms were alike representative of each species protected under the name of the galactic assembly. No human representative had yet to be called, so they had brought in a stand in.

Captain Vir, while nowhere near politically minded, had agreed to sit in on the meeting on behalf of earth, seeing as he was the closest, and most highly ranked human on that side of the galaxy.

Out on the floor contained as he was within an energy web, the scientist rambled on.

His five glowing orbs scanned the crowd before him glittering with the intensity of his insanity.

“They are here! Just look in their eyes, and you shall see. The worlds beyond worlds the bisection of soul and body.”

At the head of the table, the spokesman raised a digit silencing the madness, “Cease your ramblings and speak sense to us, truth seeker, or you will find yourself imprisoned until you can find your coherence.”

In front of them the small figure grew silent, wide glittering orbs falling unsettlingly still.

“Now, start from the beginning, tell us of your research. Tell us why we found HUMAN BODIES dissected in your laboratory.”

Around the room, muffled hisses of fear and alarm followed. Krill glanced at Captain VIr aware that humans were known to be aggressive towards the criminally minded, but the human remained impassive even unconcerned though his brows were furrowed in confusion.

The small scientist quivered, “It was bound to happen, everyone has thought of it. The humans are to interesting NOT to study, not to pull apart and decode. So fragile they survive, so intelligent, they remain animals. So, I did it, I gave in to the wonder. I knew the galactic council would never agree to my methods, so I did it in secret. I stole the human from the far reaches of space, where no one would notice their absence. I drugged them, and I bound them with their very own methods. I caged them with their own technology, and I studied them. I tested them. And I pulled them apart.”

Off to his side, the human shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Go on.”

The creature remained silent for some moments before, “The humans…. They talk about themselves as if they are two separate beings….. Have you noticed that? Ever seen a human talk to its body, address its feet or its internal organs like they aren’t one in the same. They personify themselves like they themselves are not people.”

Krill shook his head in mild confusion. In fact, he had noticed that little oddity, but he had never thought about it.

“Well, I thought it was odd, and I looked into it. Those humans that spoke with me could not give me a direct answer, but they demonstrated a profound ignorance about their own internal workings, their own feelings, like a separate being living inside the body of another.” Around the room, the crowd jolted uncomfortably, “I looked into the evidence further, I found mentions of something the humans refer to as a soul. It is the very essence of their personality, what makes them different from the animals, but when asked what it was made of or where it was located, the humans could not tell me. Some thought maybe it resided in the brain, others thought maybe the entire body, some others disputed its existence at all, so I dug further.”

The voice of the mad little scientist drifted up around the room eerie in the near silence.

“Did you know that, when a human dies, they lose 21 grams of weight, almost immediately?”

The eeriness grew deeper crawling into their bones with a malignant chill, one that accompanies vast space.

“If they couldn’t find this soul, than I would find it for them, so I cut, I dissected, but I found nothing….. and then I remembered the stories, the stories I had heard about the Moor, those that can see into the beyond. They are said to be extinct or in deep hiding, but I was determined. I thought that, if anyone could puzzle out this mystery, it would be them, and after years of searching, I found one. The last hidden atop an asteroid alone in the vastness of space. He would not speak with me, so I forced him to follow me against his will. I brought him to my laboratory, and I made him look, and the things he saw…..”

The profound silence grew and deepened.

“Keep going.” The command came

“Oh the madness he suffered. Oh how he screamed and babbled. I remember what he said word for word. They hide behind their eyes, the glow within, they are not they, they are ether they possess the body but the body does not possess them. I could not understand at first, but slowly, I began to see. I looked in their eyes and I saw it, the duel nature of the soul. A body, an empty vessel operated by a cosmic energy, it glows within them. I could see them retreating across the stars as their life faded from their chests. At first it was small, a shimmer at the corner of my vision, an out of place wind with the death, but then it grew clear. The creature rising from its shell….. Oh the horror. Its eyes burned, its body glowed, it was a power beyond worlds I saw there, breaking away from the chains of the body. It was not death, it was transcendence. Like a pupae maturing to adult….. the human body is not the end result. It is the incubation of the horror that is to come the very cosmos brought low and then released.”

Around the room the crowd murmured in horror and confusion.

Krill turned to look at Captain Vir, but instead of knowing, or agreement, he appeared only confused and even disconcerted. The entire galactic assembly had turned to watch him as he stood, pacing down the stairs with the thud of his prosthetic leg barely differentiated form the flesh.

Upon seeing the human approach, the small scientist began to scream, loud and log, “SEE IT, SEE IT NOW, IT GLOWS BEHIND HIS EYES. IT PUSHES AGAINST HIS SKIN TO ESCAPE. IT SEEKS FREEDOM!”

The human paused at the side of the semicircular table as the galactic assembly watched.

“And what do you say to this, human?”

The man paused for a long while examining the crowd before him, “A lot of humans do believe in the soul. The core of ourselves something separate from mind and body. We’ve tried to find it before, tried to find where it connects to the brain, but we never could. Philosophers argued about its nature, and then scientists argued about its existence. Certain sects of human lore believe we were created by a cosmic being who molded the universe, others believe our souls came from the energy and that someday we will return, others believe that we will be recycled based on our deeds, and yet there are some who believe none of these things. When we die, we die.”

“And this cosmic power?”

The human gave a laugh, “Not really. It is true, sometimes I DO feel separate from my body, like I don’t understand it as much as I should. Some describe the fight between the soul and the body as a struggle between light and dark.” He tapped his foot thoughtfully, “Ghosts are thought to be the souls of those who cannot move on. If that really is true, than they don’t usually do more than push around tables and break your dishes”

The room was silent.

From behind him the creature called on in a shrill voice, “He LIES. The human LIES. That’s why man does not DIE when he should. The SOUL holds on, it holds on to stay with the body. It will not give up its vessel lightly. You know that, humans will not DIE.”

The human turned to face the little scientist and stepped closer, “You talk about the soul like it’s something to fear, well, if it is real, the soul is discussed as something light.” He turned to the council, “If the soul does exist, it is a representation of all that is good in humanity. It is the part of us that was created in perfection and tied to imperfection.” He motioned to his body, “He talks about it like we are some demonic entity possessing the body, but that’s not true. Without the soul the body does not function. The one needs the other to survive, they were made for each other, if indeed the soul exists at all, and to murder someone to prove its existence is unacceptable.”

The human glared at the little scientist, who began to scream in horror,  “CANT YOU SEE IT.” He wailed, “THE EYES, THE EYES SHOW THE TRUTH.”

The screaming scientist was carted away under the thoughtful eyes of the human. Krill sat silently in his place not sure what to think.

***

               The galactic assembly couldn’t come to a conclusion about the meeting, no one did. How could they? A mad scientist had babbled about the humans as if they were…. A dual being, a cosmic spirit of unknown power possessing a body until time of death when they were freed to flee across the universe and out towards the edges of unknown. But fleeing towards what? Or returning to what?

               How could they come to a consensus, it was crazy talk. Most of them rejected the idea outright, but some saw a margin of truth. Have you ever watched a human, struggle with themselves, no other species does that. When presented with a right or wrong decision, they don’t do what their instincts tell them but they fight with themselves on the morality, but how can you even fight yourself? It makes no sense.

               While some see the fighting, others see the impossibility, a body dead kept to life by some unknown power. They die, and they come back with a will, they defy reason, they reject wounds against all odds. The human ability to survive is not logical. What keeps them here?

               What lets them hold on? And what lets them slip away?

               Some say you can see it in their eyes. Even humans can see it though they don’t admit it. Those given over to the dark are described with blank, hollow eyes devoid of humanity, why is that? Under the control of their empathy, and their love, you can see it in their eyes. It is distant, just noticeable behind the pigment and the reelections.

               I believe something lies within humans, something not of this place, not of this galaxy, not of life as we understand it.

               Could it be that the human is merely a stage of life? Is the true essence of a human something more transcendent, and if so... where do they go when they flee into the blackness?

  Thank you all for reading!!!! Comments and requests are ALWAYS welcome. I hope you all have a great week!

[cg29]

Avalanche

I know it’s fluffy fic month, but I’ve updated my Avalanche story, so I thought I’d give it a share. Can’t find previous posts, so reposting Chapter 1 through to Chapter 9 here. (Also available on A03 & FF.Net - Alternative Pseudonym: CreativeGirl29)

***

CHAPTER 1: A Gentle Fall of Snow

The wind was calm, and the snow fell gently to the ground.

Looking to his left Jeff laughed at his two youngest throwing snowballs at each other, a smile when glancing to his right revealed Scott showing John how to use his skis. A beaming grin when from the cabin they were renting his beautiful wife stepped into the open doorway, his artistic son poking his head out from just behind her.

“Time for lunch,” her melodious voice called, “come and get it before me and Virg eat it all.”

“You heard your mother boys,” Jeff said, watching his wife head back into the cabin with Virgil, “time too…” A rumble like thunder stopped his speech… He knew that sound, desperately hoped it wasn’t but the sight his eyes met confirmed it was… “Avalanche!”

Jeff pulled a screaming Gordon and Alan into his arms, hoping that Scott had John. Thankfully he did and less than half an hour later after a rescue team had found them they were reunited… Except for… “Where’s my wife and son?”

The rescue worker gave him a querying look.

“My wife and son, they were in the cabin.”

“I’m sorry sir, what cabin?”

Jeff stormed out of the first-aid tent pointing in the direction of their holiday home. “Over…” His eyes met the remains of the cabin, buried under ice and snow… He stepped forwards… Fear, pain, a deep dread rippled through him… His whole world was falling apart…

Yet, the wind was calm, and the snow fell gently to the ground.

… … … …

CHAPTER 2: A Good Day

Today had been a good day…

After a lively breakfast four of her boys, accompanied by her husband, had hurried outside eager to enjoy the snow. Virgil, after suffering from a cold which was thankfully getting better remained inside contentedly chatting and laughing away with her while drawing in his sketchbook.

Eventually the morning had passed and a warm lunch sufficient enough to satisfy her family through the afternoon had been prepared. After calling in her herd she had bustled Virgil back into the warmth with promises of hot chocolate and toasted marshmallows…

Then, a rumble similar to thunder had sounded… Freezing her in her tracks… Realising what it was, and knowing she had no time to double check by looking out the window, she quickly grabbed a hold of Virgil's hand while urgently summoning him towards where she hoped would be the strongest part of the cabin… She was wrong.

Snow and ice infiltrated their holiday home followed by tons of debris some penetrating her…

The pain was profound, and she knew that a rescue for her would not arrive in time, yet even though she could feel her life force beginning to ebb away she was grateful…

Grateful that her body had protected her boy, that with the strength she had remaining she was able to wrap her arms securely around him and tell him that she loved him. That she was able to urge him to live on, to grow into the wonderful man she knew that he was going to be, and despite everything that had happened they had spent her final day together and that today had been a good day.

… … … …

Chapter 3. Mamma

“Mamma?”

“Ooh,” his mother had chortled at him, “you definitely want something if you’re calling me mamma…”

Virgil cheekily beamed. “May we have marshmallows with the hot chocolates?”

“Toasted?”

“Yes please.”

“Absolutely!”

A triumphant cheer had echoed from him, immediately stopping at a horrid rumbling sound and his mom’s sudden urge to get him into another room.

Now, the brightness that had surrounded them was gone, replaced with an icy tomb and a distressing darkness that would surely become their grave… No. He couldn’t think like that. His mother was imploring him to never give up and he wouldn’t let her down, especially since she was being so brave. She continuously spoke to him despite her breathing becoming haggard. Assuring him that she knew his father and brothers had survived and that they would be harassing the rescue services until they were found. Of course he heard the uncertainty within her voice, the fear that was blended in with the hope that what she was saying was true. Oh, he really hoped it was true…

A shiver rippled through his body. The cold was getting worse. It hadn’t been too bad at first, not with his mother’s breath on his neck and her loving arms wrapped tightly around him, but now...

“Mom…”

Her arms were growing slack, and he could no longer feel her breath…

Oh Please No…

“Mamma?”

… … … …

Chapter 4: Big Brother

“I’ve got you.” … “You promise you won’t let go?” … “Never!”

“Thanks.”

Scott grinned at John balancing, with his help, on the skis. They’d continued to practice for another five minutes, John relaxing enough to join in with his banter while his ‘third eye’ was focussed on Alan and Gordon. Yes, his dad was watching them, but he couldn’t help it, looking out for little brothers was ingrained in his soul. Their sworn protector… Yet, he hadn’t been able to shelter Virgil from harm. Hadn’t been there when he and their mother had been swallowed beneath an icy tomb.

Deep down he knew it wasn’t his fault, that there was nothing he could have done, but now the rescue services were on the scene he could do something. Yes, he was young, but he was strong and could help them dig. Yet, his help had not been wanted and his father had banished him to the tent with his younger brothers.

At first he’d been incensed, but now he had a silently sobbing Gordon in his arms he knew he was needed here…

“Scotty…”

“It’s okay, Gordo I’ve got you…”

“You promise you won’t let go?”

“Never!”

… … … …

Chapter 5: Eyes

Enchanting, filled with wonder… Alive.

"Oh Lucy," Jeff joyfully cooed, "he's got your eyes"

She smiled lovingly at them both. "I was considering his name."

Jeff placed their baby boy back into his wife's arms, then perched himself on the chair next to the bed. "And?"

"I know I wasn't keen on it, but Virgil it… It suits him, it fits."

"Are you sure?"

Lucy's eyes glittered with pure love. "Absolutely!"

Jeff fondly contemplated the little boy who was gazing back at his wife with such curiosity… "You're right it does," he leaned forwards allowing a tiny hand to grip his… "Welcome to the world Virgil Tracy."

A sudden shiver hit, thrusting him away from the memories of a warm cosy room where his wife and child were alive and well… No, he didn't want to leave… Another sharp icy blast and his eyes opened at the reality before him…

A small team digging away, their efforts due to the inferior equipment they had seeming to lead nowhere. He'd been helping, but the need to also check on his four boys in the relative safety of the first aid tent had overwhelmed him. Thankfully Alan had been asleep in a dozing John's arms and Gordon with obvious tear tracks on his little face was passed out in Scott's. His eldest, of course, wasn't asleep and had looked to him with such hopeful anticipation that it had broken his heart to inform him that his mother and brother hadn't yet been found. His shoulders had drooped, and he had found himself moving closer ready to offer support. However seeing his reaction, Scott had immediately puffed himself back up, pulled Gordon closer to him, then reassured him that he was perfectly able to watch his brothers, and would come and get him if needed. Then he had urged him to return to the search. So, after a final check on them all he'd stepped back outside.

Immediately overwhelmed at the scene before him he closed his eyes, just for a minute, picturing his happy moment with two sets of eyes... Eyes he was becoming more certain he would never see again…

Enchanting, filled with wonder… Alive.

… … … …

Chapter 6: Words

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, everything is going to be okay…”

Those were the final words that his mother had murmured to him before she had grown quiet and still and… He choked back a sob, but the heavy frozen tears slithered down his cheek, and overpowering jumbled thoughts began racing through his mind.

How long had he been here? He wasn’t sure, but the tomb he was encased in felt like it had been his home forever.

Would those words, normally full of gentle warmth, be the last ones he heard? He desperately hoped not, and he would give anything to have his father or Scott wrap him up in their arms and whisper them to him now. Instead only a deafening silence and the melancholy darkness greeted him.

Was this it? He knew he couldn’t think like that, but the icy blast had begun to disappear only to be replaced with an uncomfortable heat. Then there were the illusions. Sudden and unexpected. Like the speck of light now penetrating the gloom.

He blinked his eyes, an attempt at warding off the dishonest sight his mind was conjuring… Yet the bright light continued to grow, and voices now accompanied the light.

Maybe it was his mummy coming to collect him? After all a deepening tiredness had started to overcome him, and his eyelids were now drooping…

“No Virgil, stay awake!”

He knew that voice…

“Virgil, please open your eyes.”

It was one that he recognised… Warm, soothing and tender… “Daddy?”

“Yes, it’s me…”

Secure arms wrapped around him.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, everything is going to be okay.”

… … … …

Chapter 7: Triumphant Cheers

Triumphant cheers…

They had rung out, gloriously filling the frosty air and warming it instantly. Just half an hour before he had been caught up in distant memories and begun to lose courage. Nevertheless he’d persevered, and as he clambered towards the sounds he prayed that his resolve had been rewarded.

It hadn’t…

In that hole his wife and son lay. Lucille’s arms wrapped around Virgil like she was cradling him from harm. The threat obvious when his eyes landed on the jagged piece of wood that had penetrated into her back. She was gone. His affectionate, devoted, beautiful wife had been taken from them in a brutal, merciless way…

“He’s alive!”

Focus immediately changed to his boy. A hint of icy blue colouring his lips, his body so still but his open, unfocused eyes were proof that he was alive until they began to close…

“No Virgil, stay awake!”

He continued to implore, felt so relieved when he heard the soft whisper of his name, yet the danger wasn’t over, and he practically pushed a rescuer out of the way so he could be the one to lift his child from the chasm in which he had been found.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you, everything is going to be okay,” he found himself swearing, even though he knew it wasn’t and this was just the beginning of an uphill battle with many obstacles in their way…

The first challenge obvious when he turned to meet the eyes of his four other sons, all gathered just a short distance away, their joyfulness at the sight of their brother in his arms filling the air. Their young eyes all so positive and expectant searched for the sight of their mother behind him, and when she didn’t come so did the sound of those triumphant cheers.

… … … …

Chapter 8: Normality

Normality…

Alan’s laughter. Gordon’s pranking nature. Virgil’s art scattered everywhere and the melodious sound of his piano. Scott’s excited chatter about learning to fly. His own head buried in a book while all of this went on around him. All of it perfectly mixed with the unconditional love they received from their mother and father helped to create a home that was filled with a boundless joy.

Precious. Secure. Something he thought would last forever, until today. The day that had taken his mother and artistic brother from them. The day that had plunged his calm, centred world into the unknown.

Yet, for a brief moment, when the cheers had rung out and he’d gathered with his brothers outside their tent, and then spotted his father with Virgil safely in his arms. He had been filled with hope, hope that this tragic event wouldn’t lead to the outcome that his wandering mind had constructed. Then he spotted his father’s face and the realisation of why his wonderful mother hadn’t emerged immediately pummelled his heart and gut.

All of his fears had been correct…

This was the day when everything he cherished had been smashed… This was the day that had swept everything away… This was the day that they lost their normality.

… … … …

Chapter 9: Snowflakes

Snowflakes, gently falling on the windowpane…

Soft, white… He opened the window slightly and reached out with his tiny hand… And cool to the touch. He loved them, almost as much as swimming. The way that each individual one fell and collected with others, covering rooftops, cars, grassy fields and hilltops. Screeches of pure delight would pour from him when it would fall at home, and when he had heard about their holiday in the snow he had been ecstatic and filled with so much anticipation for the activities that would take place.

Watching the snow fall at night with warm blankets and hot chocolates topped with marshmallows, then getting to play in it during the day with his brothers. They could make snow angels and snow men. He could jump into the flurries then mound it up into walls so he could hide behind them when he launched snowballs at his unsuspecting brothers. It would hit them and slither down their jumpers, their backs or their necks, and it would make them squeal and shiver, and of course make him have fits of giggles. His brothers would then do their best to retaliate but his strong snowy fortress would protect him from their ambush.

However, the snowfall had changed, and it wasn’t nice anymore, it had made a loud thunderous noise before hurtling towards them. Thankfully his daddy had protected him and his little brother, but for a short while they hadn’t known where Scott and John were. Thankfully, later they were back together, safe in the confines of a warm tent. Except, Virgil and his mother weren’t there, they were still in their cabin which had been buried in the snow.

Surely though, one of the things he loved so much wouldn’t hurt his mommy and big brother, would it? Of course he understood that it might, because despite being fluffy and delicate he realised that when pounded together snow could be heavy, sharp and icy. Tears had fallen at the scary thought of what had happened to them, but his biggest brother had held him, whispered comforting words to him, until his tear-soaked eyes had grown very tired and eventually closed. Then the nightmares had begun, ravaging his mind with tall big scary snowmen who were seeking their revenge by banding together and rolling down the mountain towards him and his family.

Thankfully, cheers from outside the tent had woken him. His mother and Virgil had been found and he had cheered along with his brothers when he had seen his brother being carefully held and comforted in his father’s arms. Yet, where was his mom? His dad wouldn’t leave her in there, would he? He had looked to his older two brothers. John and Scott were both staring, tears running down their cheeks, and his little young mind realised exactly why his mommy wouldn’t be coming out. The snow fall had taken her away from them, forever.

“Gordon?”

His hand snapped shut and withdrew from the open window.

“It’s okay Gordo,” John soothed, closing the window for him, “it’s just a little chilly in here with it open and we need to keep it warm for Virg. Besides, we don’t want to wake everyone else up, do we?”

Gordon gazed at his unconscious brother in the hospital bed, his sleeping family in hard chairs placed at the side.

“Grandma will be here tomorrow, which means I’ll be free for a bit, maybe me, you and Alan could go outside and play?”

His eyes grew wide and watery. Snow… No, he did not want to step foot in the thing he had once loved. His mamma was gone because of it, and would not be coming back to make everything better. She would never again wipe away his sticky tears, watch him win a swimming race, or wrap him up in her warm arms and comfort him if the snowmen in his dream returned. She couldn’t do any of that, because the thing he now hated had taken her away.

John nodded his understanding. “How about a cuddle instead?”

A tiny nod and he was lifted carefully into his brother’s arms and carried away from snowflakes gently falling on the windowpane.

Chapter 10

[potaetaezz]

|| Sweet like Coffee || 5

prev << >> next

pairing: Nct Dream x Reader  [female]

genre/au: fluff | teeny bit of angst (to come) | enemies to lovers | Everyone is just a clueless bunch of weirdos, you get the drill.

warnings: slight swearing, immature content

A/N: its’s my first fanfic so no judgment lol | Finally a long chp | I’m so sorry if my fanfics are late, I’ve so much studying to do | here we go~

_____________________________________

Monday [2:14]

His eyes were dark and looked as if they were searching for something deep within yours. The corner of his mouth curled up in an unsettling way. Looking at him now, as close as you were, you could see a small scar just above his jawline, and a few smile lines below his eyes. (although you’ve never really seen him smile)                                                                                                                                            You could feel his hot breath on you, and if you were to move any closer, you might kiss the arrogance from his mouth. You could see the specs of gold and allure in his eyes, as they bore into yours, almost devouring you. He was almost flawless. Until he spoke.

“Yes?” You said, trying to hide the waver in your voice.

“I believe you owe me.” His eyes found this amusing. You, however, did not.

You scoffed at his unnatural confidence. “I think it’s the other way around.”

“An apology.” He was overflowing with stubbornness.

“That would be nice, go ahead.” But so were you.

Your conversation was filled with sarcasm, witty comments a touch of amusement.

“If I remember correctly I spilled coffee on you by accident, you did it on purpose.”

He was right and you hated to admit it.

You tried to protest, that he never even apologised and instead gave a cringey remark, but he wasn’t taking it. He just laughed over his shoulder.

“I’ll be expecting a coffee on my desk tomorrow morning. Strong, iced, no milk.”

“And if there’s not?” your voice trailed after him as he sauntered off, as smug as ever.

“I’ll tell Jeno.”

——— 

As you entered the room, you saw Renjun sitting on your desk talking with Jeno, waiting to hear the news. Your mind raced with questions and worry stemming from Jaemin’s obnoxious words.

“Well?” Renjun looked at you with eager eyes.

“He just wanted to talk.” you attempted, facing the floor.

“As long as everything’s okay.” He didn’t ask questions for he knew you wouldn’t answer them.

“Of course, now get off my desk.” you laughed.

As you took your seat, Jeno faced you fully, with uncertainty growing in every breath.

“You sure y/n?”

You knew he wouldn’t give this up until you told him what happened. Jeno was such a caring person, always making sure people were okay or comfortable.

“Yeah, he just--“ you panicked, you couldn’t tell him Jaemin basically blackmailed you because he’d start asking questions which you couldn’t answer. “He apologised.”

You didn’t anticipate the disbelief that masked his face.

‘Shit’ you muttered under your breath. You forgot he was his best friend for a second.

“Jaemin did? Na Jaemin?”

You nodded shyly. What else could you do but play along. You’ve already said too much.

Then he laughed and a smile emerged, yet your heart speeded up with worry, and you laughed a cautious laugh.

--------

What surprised you most about the day was the fact that Jeno actually kept his promise of bringing you to the cake shop. It was in a quite popular area of the city. There were plants and flowers hanging from the ceiling and walls. The benches by the windows were covered in pillows and light green and pink colours were splattered everywhere.

You tried to pay, but he wouldn’t take it. He was such a gentleman, always.

You sat down in the corner with two small cakes and two coffees. He took aesthetic pictures of you in front of the window and threatened to post them on Instagram. (He did, but only when he got home). Being like this with Jeno, eased your heart a little bit. Renjun and Lila ended up joining as well an hour and a half later. Renjun got along really well with Jeno, and Lila was herself, truly herself.

You haven’t smiled like that in a while. It warmed your heart as you walked home, Jeno ended up following you, as Renjun went with Lila.

Jeno seemed to let down his guard in the moonlight, and he spoke more freely and casually. He was kicking a stone behind you, laughing when he missed, like a child.

But then his deeper and curious side got the better of him.

“Y/n,” he began, his voice deeper than the ocean as he spoke your name softly. “Do you believe in love at first sight.”

That caught you unaware. 

The innocence of his voice, mixed with the profound curiosity hiding in the question made you drunk. On the moonlight and everything left unsaid.

You thought about the answer in your head first. “No. I believe that you can be attracted to someone at the start, but it’s who they are that makes you fall into love.”

He smiled. It seemed he too was drunk on the moonlight. You gestured to him for his opinion. 

“I don’t know.” his eyes met yours, “I’ve never been in love.” The way the words fell from his mouth made your eyes soften and heart flutter.

The rain began slowly, but neither of you noticed. You were both listening intently to every word in the song Jeno played on his phone. As it began to get heavier, nothing changed. Water rolled down your cheek, but you didn’t rush home. For you loved the rain, and perhaps Jeno’s company even more.

When you reached your door, his eyes gazed into yours, his hand faintly pushed the hair on your face behind your ear. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and bury yourself in his warmth or to lift your chin ever so slightly and have your lips meet his. But before he left, you grabbed a scarf from inside and wrapped it loosely around his neck. Your heart ached to say goodbye. 

But his smile soothed the pain.

“Goodnight.”

———

Tuesday [7:46]

This was the first time this year Renjun didn’t come to wake you with coffee in his hands. You decided to save yourself the embarrassment of an extra pair of eyes, watching you leave a coffee for the Na Jaemin. You walked into school super early. An idea struck you. The embarrassment doesn’t only have to be for you. You could twist things around ever so slightly.

There was barely anyone in school yet, apart from a few lonely souls haunting the hallways. You saw Lila’s table, and beside it, Jaemin’s.

Bingo

Knowing Lila’s addiction to gossip, she would love this, she will love this. You set the coffee down as well as a note. Definitely, the most sickly sweet note you’ve ever written. It included a few pet names and wayy too many hearts.  

You actually gagged writing the note. Oh well, it was for a good cause, kind of. You just wished you could see Jaemin’s face when he reads it. It might even add a bit of color to his cheeks.

The rest of the day was quiet, apart from your heart around Jeno, and for a while, you almost forgot about the whole ‘tutoring Haechan’ thing. You weren’t even that good at English, but looking into Jeno’s eyes you’d agree to anything. 

You went to the school library early, to set up. You chose the seat in the corner. You got Haechan a coffee willingly so that he might despise you a little bit less. 

You waited until it was about 5:30 but there was still no sign of Haechan. It annoyed you, to say the least.

And just as you were about to start packing up, the brown-haired boy sat down in front of you, not a school bag insight.

“You’re late.” You hissed.

“Am I?” Sarcasm hidden in his voice.

You shoved the coffee over to him and rolled your eyes. “Just please be on time please, I actually have things to do. 

He didn’t reply, and you took that as an agreement.

His eyes were full of disinterest and spec of disdain.

“Where’s your book?” You sounded like a mother, but you couldn’t help it.

“In my bag.”

“Which is where?”

“At home.” he laughed. He dared to laugh.

You got up abruptly, packing your bag. 

“Look.” your voice wavered, but you were serious. “I’m not wasting my time with someone who—” You stopped mid-sentence. His eyes now full of guilt and acknowledgment. (in like 0.02 seconds)

“Sorry, my mom’s in the hospital.”

You wished you could take back all of your anger. “God Haechan, or Donghyuck. I’m so sorry, I’m not the most patient person in the world.” You attempted a smile. “Is everything okay? You don’t have to say anything if you don’t wan—.” You stopped again.

He began laughing and then smiling such a pure smile. (the duality??…)

“You can call me Haechan, and everything’s okay now.” He was like a whole different person

You were shocked at how like 0.02 seconds ago he was probably the most intimidating person you’ve ever known. But now he’s full of pure smiles and cute expressions. 

You began the lesson. He wasn’t great, but he had potential. And that was perfect for you. He attempted every question, and you felt like a proud mom watching him get the hang of it. His innocence didn’t last very long though.

In the middle of doing a question, he looked up, eyes gazing deeply into yours. His eyes changed, from purity to arrogance, which made you stop reading.

“So,” His eyes now bore into yours. All signs of innocence now gone. His mouth curled into a smirk. Like he knew something you didn’t. Which he did.

“What’s going on with Jeno?” He smiled wickedly. He leaned in closer. Whispering words that gently just brushed your ear. “Or perhaps Jaemin?”

_____________________________________

>> Next chapter out the 29th. <<  feedback is appreciated!

[lurafita]

Obsession - Chapter 1

Read the prologue here: https://lurafita.tumblr.com/post/184483191964/obsession-prologe

Somebody please tell me how to properly embed the previous part here, please? I’m such a noob.

Thanks everyone who liked and reblogged the prologue, it really got me writing the first chapter way quick! Also, please tell me if this is missing specific tags.

Somebody also tell me how to tag people for the update? Do I just go like this: @itfeelssogoodmrstark @the-neon-demon ?

Obsession

Chapter 1

//Tony, this isn't a joke! You can't just slip away from the tower without any security! If you don't call me or Happy in the next ten minutes, I'm sending Natasha after you!//

Tony smirked as he read the text message Pepper, his personal assistant, had sent him. It wasn't so much that he enjoyed being hunted down by his head bodyguard and former Russian spy, Natasha Romanoff, but he simply wasn't the kind of person to organize a team of stiff security goons around him, just to get out of his tower for a bit.

Which was not to say that he didn't understand Pepper's worry. He was an important, powerful and influential man, who had rivals and enemies practically around every corner. While he certainly wasn't helpless, it wouldn't be the first time he had been kidnapped. And ever since Obadiah's betrayal... well, as stated before, Tony did understand Pepper's worry. Didn't change the fact that he didn't like having a fucking battalion of suits following his every movement, or telling him where he could or couldn't go. He had already fired a bunch of those who had tried. No one told Tony Stark what he could or couldn't do. It was possibly one of the reasons why he had promoted Natasha to the head position. The woman was terrifying in every way, but she never tried to limit Tony. She simply adapted to his whims. And today one of those whims had prompted him to put on a rather atrocious outfit, a wig that made it look like he was some kind of hippie, a cap and sunglasses, all of which combined made up the perfect disguise for him to roam the streets of New York undetected.

He hadn't actually planned to stay out too long, just find some hole in the wall, unobtrusive little diner and drink a cup of coffee (which in hindsight was a really bad idea, because clearly whatever this brown sludge was couldn't hold a candle to the high quality beans used in the coffee makers in his tower), when the conversation between the three people sat at the table on his right had drifted over to him.

At first he had felt annoyed; after all, he had chosen this pitiful little diner because it's unappealing location in a narrow alley way and over all unimpressive decor, was supposed to guarantee very few patrons. And therefore, a quiet little space for Tony to relax for a few minutes, before he had to go back to people shoving papers and contracts under his nose for him to read and sign and his phone ringing every damn five minutes. He had been about to leave, when he decided to at least take a quick glance at the people daring to disturb his little break.

They seemed to be around the same age, which Tony guessed to be early twenties. One rather heavyset young man, black hair, slightly darker skin tone, if pressed, the billionaire would put him down as part Filipino. A young black woman, curly hair, a serious expression on her face that kind of reminded Tony of Pepper. And then his eyes drifted to the third person at that table and he felt... something... shoot through him.

Pale skin peeked out from under a too big sweater, allowing just a glimpse at the collarbones leading up to the slender neck. Light pink lips that, while not overly plumb, looked invitingly lush. Short brown hair that was clearly unstyled, but just seemed to beg you to run your fingers through it's curls.

Soft brown eyes. Deep and bright. And so expressive, as the young man recounted what must have been a fascinating lecture by one of his professors to his two friends.

“Professor Conners studies of cross species genetics and their possible applications in modern medicine are mind blowing, guys. I'm so deliriously happy that I got into his class! He even said that there ...” And Tony couldn't look away. At only a first glance, the brunette looked plain. Unassuming. To someone like Tony Stark, who had bedded more super models than most people even allowed themselves to fantasize about, there should be nothing particularly outstanding about the younger man. And yet...

He was cute. Slightly boyish features, a bit of a baby face. But clearly an adult. Must be. Had to be.

He spoke with such enthusiasm, such passion. His voice just that side of a little higher pitched, but smooth, pleasant.

“...which is why we could possibly be lucky enough to get Doctor Octavious as a guest lecturer sometime this semester and...”

Intelligence and eagerness was pouring off the brunette. So excited by the prospect of learning more, widening his horizons, that his cheeks had taken on a light rosy hue. It was adorable.

“...and just think about what this could mean for trauma patients, or people waiting for a transplant...”

And so Tony ordered another cup of watered down mud, kept on ignoring the messages blowing up his phone, angled his body in a way that kept the younger man in his sight, without outright staring at him, and continued to listen.

The three covered a wide variety of topics, and Tony learned not only the brunettes name (Peter, the other man had called him at one point, and what a delightfully fitting name for the cute creature), but also that beside the sharp intellect, Peter possessed a snarky kind of humor, that had almost caused Tony to snort loudly a few times.

The disguised celebrity was on his third cup of what passed for coffee in the world of the pitiful, when the three were discussing a book that the woman – he hadn't bothered to memorize her name – was reading for her literature course.

“I'm not saying that I like Richard. I just don't think that he is the personification of evil that the book is painting him as.”

And even though Tony had no idea what the books plot even was about, he felt inclined to agree with Peter. Just on principle. The woman shook her head.

“Every oracle they have come across has pointed out the darkness residing in him. He clearly can't be trusted.”

Ah, so it was some kind of fantasy book? He hadn't known that colleges even used those. Then again, his education at MIT had mostly circled around all kinds of mechanical engineering and business, with a side of physics and a bit of chemistry. He had never really been into the liberal arts and the like, so what did he know?

“But that's just it! All they ever say about him is that he carries darkness in his soul. But does this automatically make him a bad man? I mean, if the darkness can be used and manipulated, then isn't it simply a matter of the person who wields it? Like, think of the darkness like a weapon. A gun in the hands of... a robber or something, could kill you. But a gun in the hands of a good guy, like a police officer or someone, could save your life.”

What a profound thing to say. Cute, smart, funny and thoughtful.

“And, is darkness even all that bad? I know it gets linked to evil a lot in stories, but really, I mean, how do I put this? Sometimes darkness can be.. comforting? Like, have you ever tried to sleep in a fully lit room? And sure, you are more likely to get robbed when it's dark out, but it's also a lot easier to hide or escape from someone if they can't see you. Know what I mean?”

It was like Peter was speaking directly to him. Because there had been a time, almost five years ago now, when Tony had thought that maybe, he could find love with Pepper. She had been with him for years. She was loyal, she was beautiful, she was his friend, and he trusted her. The attraction was reciprocated, and they had tried. Tony Stark’s first real relationship. The media had been in a frenzy over them, had hounded him more than usual, hoping that they would catch him straying. Wetting themselves over the chance that they might be the one to get the scoop of the playboy who couldn't stay faithful. Nothing sold better than a scandal.

But Tony hadn't cheated on Pepper, and it wasn't an act of betrayal that ended their relationship. “I'm sorry, Tony. But I can't do this anymore. It's not something you did, it's just... Remember that article a few months ago, - after we brought out the new military weapon series, - that questioned whether or not you had a heart? That article was bullshit and the person who wrote it is an ignorant fool. I believe you have a great capacity for love. But I don't think that I'm the one that... Sometimes, it feels like there is this darkness inside of you. And that scares me. I'm so sorry.”

They had stayed friends, and Tony knew, even if Pepper hadn't ended it that day, it wouldn't have worked out between them. But her words had stuck with him. 'There is this darkness inside you. And it scares me.'

He hadn't denied it. How could he, when it was nothing but the truth?

How many people had called him a warlord, because of Stark Industries weapons manufacturing? How often had he been accused of profiting off people dying? How often had he had to defend himself from his would be assailants, or his would be kidnappers, and not felt an ounce of mercy or regret, when he broke their bones or put bullets into their limbs? He knew well of the darkness he carried, and he had accepted (resigned himself) that this made him a bad man. 

But now Peter, bright, enthusiastic, adorable Peter, was offering him an alternative. A second chance.

Darkness didn't have to be evil.

Yes, Stark Industries had made millions by designing and building weapons to use in wars. But it was those weapons that enabled their soldiers to protect and fight for the ideals of their country and the freedom of all.

It might be scary, but it could be comforting.

He had felt like a demon, avenging and ruthless, when he had finally hunted down Obadiah and ended him; but after that, he had held Pepper and been held by her, knowing that he had done what needed to be done, and that because of that, they were now safe.

It might harbor monsters inside itself, but it could also hide you from them.

He could remember running through the endless halls in his childhood home, his angry and drunk father screaming somewhere behind him, and slipping into a room, any room. Killing all the lights and crawling into a niche, or under a bed, or a couch, or a table. And his father, too drunk to find the light switch with his fumbling, unable to see him in the dark.

“I doubt Professor Wilson expects us to be this philosophical about it, Parker.”

The woman's voice so rudely interrupted Tony's introspection, and he wanted to yell at her to shut up. But he didn't. He wouldn't. She was Peter's friend. And while Tony carried darkness inside him, he was not a bad man.

He watched as Peter shrugged.

“You never know, MJ. Can't hurt to be-” That's when the young man caught a glance at the clock that hung on the opposite wall and his eyes widened in panic. “Shoot! It's almost six already?! I'm gonna be late!” He frantically grabbed his jacked and backpack and stood from the table. His Filipino friend shot him a concerned look.

“Think you gonna make it? Wasn't your boss really angry that last time you were late?”

Peter was rummaging in his jacket pocket and having found the few dollars in it,  quickly laid them on the table to cover his tap. He nodded.

“Yeah, I will have to run, but it's not far. I should just make it. Skype later?”

His two friends nodded, and then Peter was off like a shot.

No. No no no no no. This was too fast. Peter couldn't just leave like this. He couldn't- his phone vibrated with what was undoubtedly another angry text from Pepper about bringing in Natasha. It helped clear Tony's head, though.

This wasn't a problem. Nothing was lost. Tony had listened to the three undergrad students long enough to deduce that they attended Berkeley College. He knew that Peter had signed up for all of Doctor Conners lectures. 

And he now knew that Peter's last name was Parker.

He could find him now. It would be easy, with all the resources available to him. Child's-play.

So he breathed in deeply, and finished the last of his sludge. He laid some money on the table and stood. He had left a generous tip, because even though the coffee had been miserable, the company had been exquisite.

He took his phone out and finally answered Pepper's numerous messages, as he left the diner.

Tony Stark didn't believe in love at first sight.

He thought back to his escape from the tower, now almost 2 hours ago, and the time spent in the diner. He felt lighter than he had in a long time.

But he did believe in true love.

He remembered every detail of Peter that he had been able to gather. And he remembered that something that he had felt, when he first looked into his eyes.

And he did believe that sometimes, true love started with a something.

[scarlettswxtch]

You Feel Like Home | 1/2

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Description: You’re a therapist with a tragic past and Bucky’s your new bedmate. You try to deny your feelings for him but he keeps working himself into your heart...and your bed. Will you fall for his charms or keep him at bay?

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Little bit of angst. All my fics are intended for 18+ readers: this mini series will contain + death.

A/N: I wrote this in a plane, on my way home from Easter holidays so I’m v sorry for any spelling mistakes! :) This was written for an anon - I kinda slightly changed your request up a bit, hope that’s okay ! hope this is (kinda) what you were looking for x Also Jesus Christ I can’t do one shots I just write a fuck ton. Lol. I’m posting part 2 tomorrow!! :)

MASTERLIST

You were in a grocery store when you first realised you were in love with him. He wanted ice cream even though it was cold outside - the wind was biting, chilling and New York was covered in perfect snow. He couldn’t decide what flavour of ice cream he wanted and you teased him about his indecision. “Why don’t we buy every flavour?”

He laughed - soft, innocent laughter in the air like glitter. The kind of laugh you could listen to forever. “You’re silly,” he said, green eyes sparkling with adoration and he kissed you.

You’ll never forget that kiss. Breath pale against the numbing air, you blinked thoughtfully as the frost patiently kissed his face and you were captivated by the soft, dusty illusions of light that sat heavy on his eyelashes. In that moment, you knew you loved him more than anyone, a once in a lifetime.

***

2 years later

“Talk to me,” you whispered to no one, sitting alone in the very early morning of crisp November. It was cold outside but, you didn’t care. It was snowing again, thick and deep and freezing cold. There were a few clouds but the moon shone bright and gilded you in silver but, you didn’t notice it. You saw nothing and heard nothing.

You’d been up here countless times before their deaths. His death - etched in your memory like it was yesterday.

It happened so fast. You were wrapped in his arms; laughing, kissing, telling each other sweet nothings. His lips tipped up and he looked at you like you were sunshine. You’ll never forget that look - how moments later it filled with horror and panic.

A figure appeared out of a bright, blinding red light; an ominous warning of what would come. It was a woman - beautiful, slender, with eyes uncanny to his; round, green as new-born leaves. She had his eyes but she didn’t look at you with adoration. No. Her eyes slithered on your form like it was insulting, gaze almost red with resentment. When she spoke it was melodic yet she spat her words with hot-red fury. “I have to kill you,” she said and when you asked her why your heart wanted to leap out of its chest. Your daughter. His daughter. Our daughter. “HYDRA’s orders,” she spat and he pulled you behind him without a second thought, sacrificing his life for yours, blood marring the dirt as his form became nothing but a corpse.

You stared at the ground - snow once blood stained long washed away or mingled with dirt. You didn’t know why you kept coming here. You wanted to hear his voice, see his face, replace that final look of fear and tell him everything would be ok. Instead, you sat there, dominated by a profound sadness, fatigue engraved on your worn face. No longer could you see see that inquisitiveness, that desire, that fire in your eyes. All that remained was the deceiving hollow soul. You were just a shell of a person.

***

3 months later

“Would it kill you to come to dinner?,”

You drew absentminded doodles on the piece of paper in front of you as your lips pursed in discomfort. Yes, yes it would kill you to go to dinner at Jane’s house.

“Jane,” you said into the phone “like I told you, I’m really busy,”

“But I thought you said you’d have some free time coming up?,”

Your eyes closed over in exasperation. Jane was your dead boyfriend’s sister and there truly was nothing worse than being around his family. “I was but things got busy. Very busy. I can’t make dinner this week,”

“How about next week?,” she pushed.

“Janey...”

“I’m worried about you, I haven’t seen you in months! I mean, who’s taking care of you?,”

“Jane honey, I’m a grown woman.”

“But I worry about you. Ever since you took that job I haven’t seen you,” she whispered, this time sad and concerned and, because you loved her, it killed you. You knew she was worried. You and Jane had been the best of friends before his passing, attached to the hip like sisters. When he died, you couldn’t bare her presence - she looked so much like him it physically hurt you. Jane was flighty, sensitive and nervous by nature. Therefore, she constantly checked up on you despite your excuses to avoid her. That, and, you now lived in New York with hero’s that needed your constant attention.

“Don’t worry,” you assure her quietly “I’m fine. Just busy.”

“Pardon me, Miss, but Mr.Barnes is requesting your presence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y says from above you and your pen comes to a halt.

“Jane I gotta go,” you say quickly.

“But-“ she began.

“Somethings just came up, honey. Really, gotta go. I’ll call you back later,” that was a lie.

You heard her sigh then, “Okay, I’ll be waiting for that call.”

“Love you Jane, bye.” you hear her say goodbye but vaguely.

“Send him in,” you say to F.R.I.D.A.Y, fingers now tapping nervously on your mahogany desk. Being a therapist for the Avengers has its perks and downsides - on one hand, you were generously paid (courtesy of Stark himself, of course) but on the other, you were on call 24/7. Not that that was an issue for you, no - not at all. Helping other people with their problems had helped your own inner conflict and you did it rather readily.

The problem was Bucky Barnes. He's not usually the kind of guy you fantasise about. For starters, he's brunette and you’ve always liked blondes. Dreamy men with bright blue eyes who were emotionally stable, preferably. Until you met Bucky. He’s someone with his own issues, issues that made your own seem totally minuscule. Life taken by Hydra, experimented on endlessly. He‘s emotionally volatile, prone to aggression and...drop dead beautiful in every way.

There was also the fact that you were sleeping with him. Non-stop. Like two damn bunny rabbits. It was insane. He’s the only healthy drug there is, the one that puts your mind into a frenzy of sparks. Makes you...forget. When you’re with him, your past life seems like a dream - something that never happened. The simple touch of his hand leads you into moving in ways you never learnt but know so well. In those moments, you are only alive in the present, all thoughts of past and future melted away. You weren’t sure if that was good or bad but, the guilt you felt over it was overwhelming.

The elevator opens directly into your office and you watch him step in, phone to ear, he hasn't looked at you yet so you gaze freely. “Yeah yeah, Steve I got it,” he says into the phone. There's something about him, a slight confidence and inflated ego, that has you muddling your words and blushing uncontrollably whenever he's around. He looks up at you and smiles a dazzling smile, making his way to your desk. “I’ll see you later punk, I got a woman that needs my attention.” he says, eyes still on you and you can hear Steve’s hearty laugh through the phone before he hangs up.

“Hey darlin’,” his voice is smooth as silk as he leans over, placing a kiss on your warm cheek. He’s holding a coffee cup that he places in front of you and he sits down on the velvet green chair opposite your desk - looking all handsome and comfortable. You suddenly felt small in your own office - his energy completely enveloped the room. It was always like this with Bucky. He was an intense guy who commanded everyone’s attention - it was completely impossible for him to walk into a room unnoticed.

You eyed the coffee cup, smiling “That for me?”

“Got your name on it, doll,” He said lazily, head bent as he tapped away on his phone. You took it giddily, bringing it up to your face and smelling the hint of hazelnut. You smiled to yourself - you only ever ordered coffee with him once and ever since, he’s remembered exactly how you like it: a little milk, 2 pumps of hazelnut syrup and no sugar. It was a small thoughtful thing but, so very heartwarming.

“Hmm, what’s the occasion?”

“Consider that a gift,” he said, sliding his phone back in his pocket.

You raised a brow, scanning your memory for anything you’d done to solicit a gift and you came up blank “What for?” you were frowning now as you sip your coffee.

He kept a straight face, he was looking at you with those gorgeous, irresistible icy blue eyes that could make the whole of the Arctic melt in seconds. “For you coming to Tony’s event with me.” That almost made you choke. Bucky and you were many things but explicitly public was not one of them.

Your eyes turn round as you abruptly placed the coffee cup on the table, a little warm droplet spilled on your hand and you unconsciously wiped it on your skirt. Well, say hello to a stain now, idiot. “What?”

“You and me, Tony’s charity gala,” he said simply, completely un-phased.

“What? Bucky I never agreed to that”

“Don’t need you to agree doll, I’m telling you,”

You stared at him speechlessly. Bucky was a dominant guy - you knew that the second he first walked into your room and sat his ass down on your chair like he owned the place. The only vulnerability he ever showed was during your therapy sessions, when you’d both speak about Hydra and his past with Steve. Other than that, you could be damn well sure Bucky Barnes would dominate you in every way possible and damn if it wasn’t hot. Sometimes, only sometimes, you felt like you could see some of that softness when he was in your bed but, he never let you see it for long enough. You didn’t blame him - you pushed him away a lot.

He raised a brow at your quietness and you realised you hadn’t said anything for about a full minute now. “Uhh,” you began, damn him and his tongue-tying effects! “Bucky I’m not so sure that is professional considering I’m your therapist-,”

“Darlin’ I think we’re way past professionalism,” he interrupted, leaning closer to you - he was looking at you with heat in his eyes as his gaze lazily flickered from your desk to your eyes “Whole of New York heard you scream my name when I took you on that desk,” he muttered, loud enough for you to hear.

You swallowed, heat flushing your face as a sudden tingling sensation took over your stomach. “Bucky I cant - I...it’s different for the public to know. You’re not exactly lowkey.” It’s true. He isn’t. The Avengers are all high profile people constantly all over the news - from dating to getting a coffee cup across the street, you could be sure their faces would be somewhere on the front page. You experienced that first hand when you were spotted out with Steve. Headlines covered both newspapers and magazines in bold red letters: AMERICA’S SWEETHEART? They read - totally ridiculous considering you were only getting coffee but apparently, the public obsessed over Steve’s love life. Jane had called you asking if you were dating and you panicked so much you vowed to never step foot outside with any of them again. Except for Tony and Barton who were happily married.

Bucky stood up, face flashing with something that faded too quick for you to spot “Doll seriously, I’m tired of you denying that we have something here. It started off as just sex,” he leaned into the desk, face dangerously close to yours “we both know it’s a lot more,” he whispered and your heart started beating irregularly fast. He wasn’t wrong. It was...more. He made you feel good in ways no one else ever has - not even him. Bucky made you forget him. That made you feel incredibly guilty because he was supposed to be your soulmate - he still is in some ways. Yet Bucky got this response from you, a different kind of response - like necessity - as if your soul yearned to knit itself to his and it killed you. So much so it hurt to ignore it.

“I-I I can’t,”

“Why?”

“I have...I just can’t do that to him, Bucky,” your eyes lowered as you looked away from him “I still love him,” you said, jaw tight “please, let it go.”

You were met with silence and you peered up at him. He was staring at you with that hardness in his eyes - the same hardness you saw each night when you asked him to leave your room. His jaw twitched in what you could only guess was impatience, frustration, annoyance...perhaps all three?

“The more you hold onto the past the more it haunts you,” he mutters and his eyes search your face - voice lowering, almost soft. “Don’t think I don’t see the way you look at me across the room, sugar” his hand curls around your neck, squeezing it and your body shivers at the contact. “I know that look,” he whispers - gaze so raw you could only squirm beneath it. “I’m here right now, in the present. I won’t wait for you forever.”

You swallowed as your heart clenched “Bucky let go,” you said, so quietly that if he hadn’t been so close to you it would’ve been inaudible.

But Bucky Barnes was not done. You’d know this when he was not across the table but in your space. So far in your space, you were now standing and your soft body was pressed against the length of his, his hand curled around the back of your neck, demanding, putting pressure to bend your neck up as your lips connected. You put your hands to his shoulders to push him away, your mind filled with how you could do that as gently as possible when his tongue came out and the tip touched your lips. And at that, your body and mouth made another decision before your mind could catch up. This being your arms closing around him tight, his mouth opening yours, his tongue spiking out, pushing yours back into your mouth and then he kissed you, very hard, very wet and very, very deep. He tasted like mint - sweet and fresh and fucking fantastic.

You kept one of your hands locked tight around his bicep while you slid the other hand up his spine, his neck and into his hair. He bent forward slightly, arching over his arm, forcing your body deeper into his and you moaned a sweet, soft moan against his tongue. It was the best thing you’d ever tasted in your life until he pulled away.

You looked up at him, breathless and outraged at the same time - smugness was written across his features as he stepped away from you. He was smirking now as if you’d just told him what he needed to know “I’ll wait for that RSVP,” he said and finally strolled out of your office.

***

3 hours later

Nat was looking at you from across the table, face totally impassive. You told her everything to the minutest detail that happened between Bucky and you. And it was fair to say you remembered the minutest detail.

Through this, she listened.

When you were done, you asked quietly, “Well?”

She simply stared at you, eyebrow raised and book in hand, “Was there a question?”

You looked at her incredulously “Yes! What do you think I should do?” You slumped back into your chair, hand covering your face as you grumbled: “God Nat I’m so torn, he makes me feel good but-“

“All I’m hearing is excuses,” she interrupted suddenly and you peeked at her from behind your fingers. She was looking at you with her judge-y jade green eyes.

“Nat he freaks me out!” You exclaimed and she suddenly took your hand in hers. She was staring at you with an unusual softness and you felt incredibly lucky at that moment. You knew this caring side was something Natasha rarely showed to people - it was something she had only gifted you twice in your time of knowing each other and each time, you took that look of hers and locked it away in your heart to keep forever.

“I get that,” she says softly “I also get why. You’re scared of moving on, feeling guilty because of what happened. I’ll tell you this though, nothing good comes of dwelling on the past,” she echoed Bucky’s earlier words and your heart clenched because you knew she was right. “You should know that - you’re the therapist here. Follow your own advice. Besides, from what you told me, who you were with was not a selfish person. He would’ve wanted you to be happy - not be a nun and never find love again. I think we both know that...you’re just having trouble accepting it.” She let go of your hand and leaned back in her chair, face turned up to the February sun.

“God I hate it when you’re right,” you grumbled, fingers massaging your temples in contemplation.

“I’m always right,” she says without looking at you. “You already know Barnes. He’s got a lot of demons, but he’s good around you - we all see that he’s been better ever since you.”

You closed your eyes “Oh God-“

“What we gossiping about here?” A voice said from the kitchen door and you squealed at the unexpected interruption. It was Tony.

Nat was about to say something before you quickly interrupted her with wide eyes. “Nothing!,” you said, and Tony’s eyes assess you in thought but (thankfully) chose to say nothing of what he was thinking.

“Right...” he drawled before he distractedly began pressing at the advanced looking gadget on his hand.

“Need you in the office, sweet cheeks, ASAP.” He said, waving at you to follow him and you promptly got up from your chair.

“Right away boss,” you said and followed him. You turned around quickly to face Nat “Thank you,” you mouthed to her. She only nodded in response and went back to reading her book.

As you followed Tony, something told you you’d have a very, very difficult time trying to get Bucky Barnes out of your head and the truth is...you weren’t even sure you wanted to.

[deejadabbles]

Not Quite Unrequited Yami x Reader Chapter 2

Two: Closer Still

One //// Two //// Three //// Four //// Five //// Six //// Seven

Summary: Yami would do whatever it took to keep his friendship with you intact, even if it meant putting on a smile and pushing his love for you aside. You knew Yugi loved Anzu, but getting over your feelings for him was hard, especially when time made feelings for another best friend arise.

AU where Duel Monsters is just a (vastly popular) card game and Yami and Yugi are twins. This is a fic I’ve already posted this on my AO3 but I wanted to spread the Yu-gi-oh x Reader love here on tumblr.

A.N: I can't help but to think that Yami would be on the student council in a "regular" modern AU, maybe it's the leader/Pharaoh in him haha. Anyway this chapter doesn't have anything too amazing in it, just kind of a filler chapter to show your growth with both Yugi and Yami, hope you guys still like it though~

Months passed and eventually the pain inside you started to fade. The ache in your chest was duller now when you saw Yugi glancing longingly at Anzu’s turned back. The urge to reach out for him on the walks to school lessened with every day. Whenever Yugi was low on confidence you could give a simple, platonic insistence that he was more amazing than he knew alongside Jonouchi. Things were getting better.

Yami was different however, not in a major way, not even something permanent, but you just knew something had been bothering him recently. Whenever you asked him if something was wrong he would always just smile and say he was fine. You knew he was lying. You even started to become horribly paranoid that it was because of you, that coming to him about Yugi had crossed a line. It bothered you, this sudden and subtle change in the friend you held so dear.

Dreading the notion that it was your doing, you pulled him aside one day after class and asked him simple and clean if you had been in the wrong to go to him that day; already pleading a heartfelt apology if that was the case. His answer had been a hurried, emphatic no. So emphatic that it had startled you a little, so unlike it of Yami to borderline panic with words, even for a moment. He had recovered himself quickly with a deep breath, before repeating, more calm this time around, that you had not crossed a line. He had looked you in the eyes with that intense, yet almost serene, contained passion of his when he insisted that you could always come to him, no matter what. A profound relief had flooded you in an instant.

It was almost funny how, even before that particular conversation, the process of getting over Yugi had brought you closer to Yami. You started going out of your way to talk to just him more often, you sent him messages more frequently, you even found yourself thinking about him more. Yami had always been your friend in his own right, never just an extension of your closeness to Yugi, but Yami’s guarded nature had always made it hard to get close to him. Perhaps it was his slightly off behavior lately, maybe you had an innate need to make an even more personal effort with him in order to figure out or help him through whatever was bothering him, even if he didn’t tell you what it was. Yami did not seem to mind your increase in attention; he reciprocated and held your conversations, answered your messages and even started sending his own to you more frequently.

Actually, you started to wonder if this increase in your one-on-one time with Yami had been subconsciously influenced by Yugi’s sudden tendency to mention him when you two were alone. You had pulled away from Yugi just a bit as you got over your wounded heart, but you two still talked often, as it had always been between you two. You hadn’t even noticed this odd new reoccurrence at first. After all, it was not unlike Yugi to talk about Yami, the two were closer than close, but every time the older brother wasn’t around Yugi seemed to work him into the conversation somehow. You finally actively took notice to this when it hit you that he only spoke like this to you. He didn’t bring up Yami at every opportunity when talking to Jonouchi or Honda or Anzu, just you.

One of these conversations came about when you, Anzu, Jonouchi and of course, Yugi, were sitting together during your free period to play a hand of Duel Monsters. Yami was absent due to student council business, being the class rep and having more responsibilities to attend to.

While playing a Duel with Jonouchi, Yugi had once again brought the conversation around to his brother. “I keep telling him he needs to take on less when it comes to the student council, I’m worried that he’s been taking on more than he can handle.”

You almost failed to notice him glance at you from the corner of his eye, as if to gauge your reaction, almost. Never actually minding his turns in conversation you replied with a thoughtful sigh. “I can see why you’d worry, he can be a bit reluctant to rely on others even when he should. But it’s Yami we’re talking about, he could have the whole world on his shoulders and just say it was nothing so long as we were with him- all while giving us a thumbs up and a wink. I’m sure he’ll be okay, Yugi, if it starts to be too much, we’ll notice.”

The boy nodded his head, simultaneously claiming a small victory as his card sent one of Jonouchi’s monsters to the graveyard. He took on a bit of a smile as he added “You’re right. I’ve also been trying to hint that maybe he needs to make sure he puts aside time for other things besides friends and school.”

“Like what, Yug?” Jonouchi asked as he drew two cards to his hand.

“Well, you know, maybe to date?”

You and Jonouchi shared a bit of a questioning look, both of you thinking this was a bit out of the blue, at least in your eyes. Yami was always encouraging when it came to the romantic endeavors of his friends. Giving a thumbs up as Honda mustered up the courage to say hi to his blue-haired crush after class. Giving his blunt but somehow still heartfelt opinion on the obvious “more than just rivalry” tension between Jonouchi and a certain rich boy in their class. But he himself pursuing anything along those lines? He had never expressed any interest in dating or romance, at least not in your presence.

“Has he said anything about wanting to date?” you asked.

Yugi shrugged “A bit. I mean, he’s not the type to be interested in or even flirt with just anyone, but I don’t know, with someone special I think he’d want to.”

“Hm, I could see it” Anzu chimed it, chin resting on her hand as she looked at Yugi with a thoughtful expression. “Now the real question is: what type of person do you think he’d be interested in?”

“Well, they’d have to be someone kind and loyal. He can get a bit shy with himself when it comes to something as personal as romance would be, they’d have to be patient with him at first so probably someone he already trusts, someone he’s already friends with. I think someone funny or a bit quirky would be perfect for him, you know, kinda balance him out.”

Anzu gave a little giggle and glanced in your direction “You know, the more you talk the more it sounds like you’re describing a certain someone right here” she ended with a wink wholly aimed at you.

Heat flooded up from your chest as both Yugi and Jonouchi turned considering gazes on you. “Oh- oh come on! Yami would never go for someone like me.”

“Hey don’t sell yourself short!” Yugi was quick to counter “You’re amazing, you two could make a great couple!”

“He isn’t wrong, I could totally see it” Anzu agreed.

You crossed your arms and prayed the blush on your face wasn’t as bright as it felt- wait, you were blushing? Why were you blushing!? With an eye roll that would- with any hope, shake off their comments you replied “So what’s up with this sudden talk about Yami dating anyway, Yugi? Not like this is a topic we’ve talked about before.”

Suddenly looking more than a little flustered, like a kid who had been caught in a questionable shenanigan, he scratched the back of his head. “Oh! Well- you know…You just start thinking about these things sometimes- I mean… uh…”

Anzu reached out and laid a hand over Yugi’s, looking at him with a fond smile that calmed him instantly. “I think Yugi’s just got romance on the brain, because…well…We’ve been trying to find the best way to bring it up, but I think we should just come out and tell you guys that, Yugi and I are dating now!”

You and Jonouchi gave a variety of shocked reactions, the blonde opting for garbled shouts of “wha- how- when did- WHAT?!” and you going with a more classic gasp and hand-over-mouth combo.

Yugi gave a small shrug “It happened over the weekend, we just told each other how we really felt and…” he didn’t need to finish the explanation with words as he turned his amethyst irises on Anzu with nothing but pure love written in them. “Sorry we didn’t tell you guys right away, it’s just kinda hard to bring up with mutual friends, you know?”

“Nah, don’t sweat it, I’m just glad you told us now” Jonouchi assured, “It’s about time too, I was starting to worry you two would never get your heads straight and get together.”

They shared a laugh at the thought that he had been waiting for his friends to just ‘shut and kiss already’ for a while now. Then Yugi and Anzu looked to you, as you had yet to make an actual comment.

You gave them a smile, one that reached your eyes and came from the heart “Agreed, it’s about time you both admitted it! But honestly, I’m really happy for you two. You’re perfect for each other.”

The best part about that statement was not only that you wholeheartedly meant it, but that it finally did not hurt to think about a future with them together.

After class Yugi and Anzu announced that they were heading off together, their wording making you and Jou realize that they wanted some alone time. “It’s gonna be like this more and more now, isn’t it?” Jou had whispered to you as the new couple walked a few steps ahead on the way to the front gates. And yes, you suspected that this would be a common occurrence as time went by, but that was okay, you knew they would never shove their friends out completely.

“Oh, where did Yami run off to? He left before the bell even rang” you asked as you noticed he had yet to return, and would have to walk home alone at this rate.

“More student council business. He said it wouldn’t take him long but still didn’t want to keep us waiting” Yugi answered.

You paused in your steps, just short of halfway down the stairs to the ground floor. “Actually, I think I’ll go ahead and wait for him anyway. He’s had to walk home alone a lot lately and I don’t have any plans today.”

Jonouchi just gave a shrug to your words, but you did not miss the way Yugi and Anzu looked at each other hopefully before Anzu gave you yet another wink “Okie dokie! Make sure to text him that you’re waiting, k?”

And just like that, they were off, leaving you to sigh in exasperation before turning on your heel and walking back up the stairs. You found the student council room’s door agar when you came to it, and a peek inside said that they were just filing things away post meeting and that Yami was not there.

You gave a gentle knock on the open door, “Excuse me, do any of you know where Yami Motou is?”

“He said he had other business to attend to” the boy at the filing cabinet gave a dreamy sigh “He’s so responsible and cool, always going above and beyond.”

Ah, so the council assistant was one of Yami’s many ‘admirers’. You stifled a giggle as another assistant walked up to the boy, shaking her head and slamming the drawer in front of him shut.

“Quit daydreaming about your senpai and get back to work” she snapped.

Hiro, a particularly popular third-year boy who was his own class’s president, gave you a warm smile, ignoring his companions “To be more specific, I think he said he was going to the library.”

“Thank you!” you offered a quick bow before heading in that direction.

You passed no students in the hallway and it wasn’t a surprise when you got to the library and found it empty save for the familiar figure in the biology section, sliding books back into their rightful places. He caught you out of the corner of his eye and looked pretty surprised -though not unhappy- to see you.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Figured I’d wait for you so you wouldn’t have to walk home alone again” oddly enough, you thought you saw a hint of pink cross his cheeks when you ended on a warm smile.

“I’ll be here awhile, I wouldn’t want to keep you waiting.”

Giving him a shrug you closed the distance between you two and took half of the tall stack of books in his hands. “Then I’ll help so you get done quicker!”

He answered the kind gesture with a smile of his own. That was another noteworthy observation; lately he had been giving you actual smiles more and more, not just cocky and playful smirks, but genuine sweet smiles.

With that smile he gave a little bow of his head, “You’re too sweet, thank you.”

“So,” you began, working on your stack of books, “why are you here anyway? Didn’t think the library was on your list of school activities.”

“You know Miho from our class?”

“Honda’s crush from back in first year? Yes.”

“She’s the assistant librarian but she wasn’t feeling well today, so I offered to finish her duties so she could go home early.”

You let out an appreciative hum “Yami, I demand you retract your previous statement. You are the only one here who is too sweet!”

That deep, practically trademarked chuckle rose from his throat “How about we agree that both of us are worthy of the title?”

“I suppose I can consent to that” you had to walk past him to put away your next book, so as you said your last word you gave him a playful shoulder bump.

His typical smirk was back in place as he looked at you over his shoulder, watching you disappear with a wide grin behind the bookshelves. With you out of sight he finally let out the shaky breath he had been holding. Your grin, your laughter, your words, all of it sent him spinning. Pressing his forehead to the bookshelf he tried to calm his racing heart, though hearing you hum to yourself just kept the cute image of your smile fresh in his mind.

If you only knew what you did to him.

[scarletraven1001]

Clueless

06 - “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Summary: Videl had been dating Gohan for years, and she was more than ready to take their relationship further. However, she was running out of patience waiting for him to make the first move. She realizes that if she wanted things to move along, she was gonna have to just tell him. Or better yet, show him.

A HanVi (Gohan x Videl) one-shot for prompt #06 on this post, for @hannabelllecter

Chapter Warning: Raunchy themes, mentions of sex and nudity; Fluff.

Also on Ao3.

8-8-8-8-8

Note: This is my first attempt at writing for a DB pairing other than Vegebul, so I am both excited and nervous! I have always loved Gohan x Videl though, so I hope you all like this!

8-8-8-8-8

Clueless

8-8-8-8-8

Videl knew, with one hundred and ten percent certainty, that she loved Gohan.

She was also absolutely certain that Gohan loved her back.

The one thing that puzzled her though, was…

Why, oh Kami, why, had he never tried to get her to sleep with him?

Didn’t he want to? Was it even normal for a young man of twenty to not have his mind in the gutter?

Because Kami in heaven, her mind had been mired in there for months.

They had been dating since high school.

Three. Damn. Years.

And she was getting impatient...

She was only human, dammit!

What human woman with eyes and a functional reproductive system wouldn’t want to get a piece of Gohan?

He was perfection in the flesh!

With his soft dark hair in a naturally messy wave, and pitch black eyes that could drown her in their depth and unbelievable gentleness…

His obscenely sharp jaw that bordered plump lips… his powerful, yet tender hands, and a graceful body seemingly sculpted by no less than the highest gods themselves.

And incredibly enough, even beyond his physicality, there was Gohan’s beautiful soul, his bravery and strength, the intensity of which were beaten only by his profound intellect.

She would hazard to say that Gohan was the perfect man –

“Videl-san?” the so-called perfect man asked as they flew lazily across the sky, heading home from university. He peered worriedly into her face as he noted her flushed cheeks. “Are you alright?”

She nodded resolutely, looking away from him in an effort to hide her still darkening cheeks.

“Are you sure?” he asked, brows knitting in concern. “You’re flushed! You looked like this too, while we were in your backyard yesterday.”

While they were in her backyard and the damn clueless hunk of delicious man was shirtless and dripping wet, and she was treated to the incredible view of those enviable drops of water gliding slowly down his skin, his wide, muscular chest glistening in the sun, lips parted as he heaved himself out of the deep end of the swimming pool…

She had been wearing her sexiest possible bikini, hoping for a reaction from him, and all she got was, “Wow, Videl-san, your arm muscles are so firm! Did you change something in your gym routine?”

… Alright, so perhaps Gohan wasn’t so perfect.

When it came to anything remotely sexual, all advances were utterly lost on him.

She was wrenched from her thoughts when she felt him grasp her hand, pulling her with him, as he slowly flew them towards the ground.

He dropped them both down, and he stood before her, a frown marring his handsome face as he tried to assess her for any sort of physical damage.

“Gohan-kun, I’m fine,” she assured him, smiling lightly to calm him.

He was quite paranoid about her safety, and she knew that this stemmed from his unconventionally difficult childhood and all the death that he had witnessed while growing up.

His trauma, usually left unmentioned, had made him a staunch pacifist. Though he was surrounded by fighters, Gohan stayed a steady, secure person who tried hard to resolve conflicts with his brain rather than his brawn.

It was his looks and power that attracted her to him.

It was his kindness and unfailing spirit that made her stay.

“You’re absolutely sure, Videl-San?” he asked again. “I noticed you getting a lot more flushed than usual when we’re sparring or studying at home. If you’ve been having hot flashes or anything of the sort, you need to tell me. I can get you a Senzu if you’re feeling sick.”

…It was his astounding cluelessness that made her shake her head.

“I told you, I’m fine,” she answered with a roll of her eyes. “Stop worrying. Let’s just head back home. I still need to pick your brains for my Physics exam.”

His sudden, gentle smile caught her unprepared, and she gaped openly at him as he leaned forward and gathered her in a warm hug, his hands resting comfortingly on her lower back as he tucked her close.

His chin dropped down onto the top of her head, and she felt him sigh against her, his chest rising and falling smoothly against her warm cheeks.

“You know I… I c-care about you a lot, ne, Videl-san?” he asked, the calm whisper melting her where she stood.

He spoke again. “You bring out the best in me, Videl-san. And I want you to keep doing that, keep making me feel human, for as long as I live. So, I want you to always be safe and healthy for me, alright?”

She nodded against him, burying her face into his chest, feeling the warm, hard planes of his chest.

He smelled so good… an intoxicating mix of dark seas and freshly-cut grass, all the comfort of home sprinkled with a spicy taste of adventure.

His deep-seated powers radiated outwards from his very core, manifesting in a near tangible spark of electricity that surged through him and into Videl’s skin.

Unbidden, images of him shirtless, sweaty, panting from exertion, crossed Videl’s mind, and her libidinous thoughts wandered haphazardly into uncharted territories…  

How those muscles would feel against her palms as he strained above her...

How his sweat would taste on her tongue as she licked up his delectably thick neck…

If that thin birthmark that slashed across his lower belly really reached all the way down to his…

She was so lost in his scent, in the promise of the taste of his skin, that she unconsciously let out a low, throaty moan.

Within a second, he had stiffened, pulling away from her, and he held her at arm’s length, his face slightly pale as he spoke in a hushed whisper.

“Videl?” he asked.

She was so drunk on him that she barely noticed the way he had dropped the honorific at the end of her name.

Her head was heavy, her tongue felt like cotton against the roof of her mouth as she gaped, trying to find her voice so she could respond to him.

“Gohan…” she finally managed, momentarily confused by the breathy, husky sound that came out of her own lips.

She looked away, pulled rapidly out of her fantasies by her sheer embarrassment as she realized how… improper… she had just been.

“Oh Kami, what must Gohan be thinking of me right now?!” Videl thought, her face flushing once again from her humiliation.

Had she really just moaned against Gohan?!

Gohan cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him, and she immediately noticed his reddened cheeks as he stared determinedly at the ground, seemingly unable to look at her.

He held out his hand towards her, and she took it out of habit, her fingers shaking slightly as she met the warmth of his skin with the clammy nervousness of her own.

Without another word, he pulled her up, turning back into the direction of West City.

She chanced a glance at him, catching his blush that reached all the way to his ears, and it was these tiny reactions that made her excitedly realize that Gohan wasn’t so clueless after all.

He was clearly uneasy, embarrassed, flustered… all signs pointed to the fact that he understood what had just happened. And if the way he firmly held her hand meant anything, it stood to reason that he must surely want her, as well.

Along with this enlightening thought, however, came a huge wave of dread, as she also realized that the same overwhelming signs showed that Gohan would never, ever, make the first move on her towards progressing their relationship.

He was far too pure, far too nice, and even if he did want her, he would be too much of a gentleman to ask.

If she wanted to get him to touch her, dropping hints and dressing provocatively wasn’t going to cut it.

Videl was going to have to seduce him, or explicitly tell him.

And she didn’t have a clue as to how.

Her thoughts raced in a messy jumble, trying to come up with an idea as to how to go about propositioning a man who could easily fly away from her at the first sign of awkwardness.

It was as she and Gohan flew over the sprawling Capsule Corp estate that took up most of the inner city that it suddenly hit her.

“Of course!” she thought. “Why didn’t I think of this sooner?”

Bulma-san.

The only woman she knew who had successfully gotten a violent, murderous alien warrior prince to commit and actually marry her, surely must have an idea on how to get Gohan to fall into bed with her!

8-8-8-8-8

Videl landed softly on the well-kept grass of Capsule Corps’ main house, and she walked slowly towards the main door as she once again went over her plan.

She had given Gohan a bullshit excuse about going on a shopping trip with Erasa so that he wouldn’t wait for her to fly her home. He had smiled, then flown off, muttering something about needing to speak to an “elder”.

She, of course, needed to find Bulma-san.

“Oi.”

The sudden low growl from right behind Videl made her shriek, and she leapt backwards away from the hair-raising ki presence behind her, hands already raised in defense.

It took her less than a second to recognize the wild, dark hair, the terrifying eyes, and the thickly-muscled arms dressed in a loose blue shirt.

“Vegeta-san!” she exclaimed in relief, bowing low while she noted the low-rise jeans and running shoes. “I… I didn’t notice you there, I’m sorry!”

He smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned his weight on one leg, regarding her with curiosity.

“Gohan’s woman,” he addressed her, and she would have rolled her eyes if the situation she was in wasn’t so desperate. “What has brought you here?”

“I was… I was thinking of paying Bulma-san a visit,” she answered.

He raised a brow. “For what reason? Are you and the boy having problems?”

Her eyes flew open in surprise. “Um… not really. But I do need to ask her something important.”

His smirk widened. “Is the boy not… performing?”

She didn’t immediately catch on, but when she did, Videl felt all her blood rush painfully to her cheeks, and she sputtered, trying hard to deny his claim while knowing that her actions clearly stated that he wasn’t too far off.

Vegeta threw his head back, laughing maniacally at her discomfort, before he looked her in the eye with one of his trademark piercing glares.

“If that is your concern, you have come to the right place. Bulma, vulgar as she is, would be delighted to be of assistance. You can find her in the right wing,” he said, and without waiting for a response, he turned around to fly off to Kami-knows where.

Now even more embarrassed than she had already been to begin with, Videl marched stiffly towards the correct wing, sighing in relief when she finally found the beautiful, blue-haired older woman sitting amongst a pile of twisted metal and copper wires.

She stood silently, outside of the scientist’s line of sight, observing her as she expertly twisted myriad strands of wiring and mechanical plates together.

She had met Bulma several times before, and Videl knew her as a funny, irreverent woman whose tongue’s sharpness was rivaled only by her fashion sense. However, she had never actually seen the Capsule Corp heiress at work, and Videl was rather taken aback to realize that among her machines, Bulma truly looked the part of a mechanic: grease on her cheeks and on her blue overalls, a frown on her brow as she puzzled out what to do and how to make her machines work at optimum performance.

She had always wondered how the rich, incorrigible female genius had ever managed to find love with the stoic, volatile alien prince. Yet, looking at Bulma now, and thinking back to how Vegeta had behaved a few minutes earlier, Videl thought she finally understood.

At their cores, Bulma was an unfathomably intelligent woman who had fallen for a strategically crafty warrior, and Vegeta was a soldier whose wry sense of humor had found a complement in Bulma’s outlandish wit.

Bulma-san and Vegeta-san became their most buried, best selves, when with each other. They brought out the best aspects of each other…

They were perfect together, after all…

Videl then began to wonder if she, the loud and boyish daughter of a professional conman, truly was compatible with the shy, naturally-gifted boy who was the true savior of the Earth.

Forcing those thoughts aside, Videl stepped forward, waving her arms to catch Bulma’s attention.

Bulma looked up, eyes wide in surprise.

“Videl-chan,” she said with a smile, cheerfully waving back. “This is a surprise. What brings you here?”

Videl smiled uneasily, shifting her weight as she stood before the older woman, and she cringed back in horror as she realized that she had completely forgotten the words she had rehearsed in her head, and now had no idea how to start asking her questions.

“I… I… Bulma-san. I needed to ask you…” she stuttered.

Bulma just smiled. “Ask me what?”

Videl flushed in discomfort, eyes casting around as if searching the air for a written script on how to best phrase her doubts. “I… it’s about… Gohan-kun.”

“What about him?”

“I… oh Kami,” she muttered, running her fingers through her hair in agitation. “I am so sorry, I came here and I don’t even know how to start!”

“Well,” Bulma began, getting up from her work seat to walk towards Videl, pulling on her arm and leading her to sit on a nearby leather couch. They both sat, Bulma’s hand on Videl’s knee, and with a comforting squeeze, asked, “How about you start by telling me how things have been going on with you two?”

Videl rambled on about school, stuttering through her stories, and Bulma patiently smiled as she finally got to the part about the previous day’s detour.

“Ne, Videl,” Bulma said, a secretive smile on her lips, while a naughty spark suddenly entered her eyes. “You want to start having sex with Gohan, is that it?”

Videl’s entire face lit up a bright red, and she felt her mouth convulsively open and close even as not a single sound came out.

Bulma laughed, lightly slapping her arm. “It’s ok! You can tell me! I know that if I had met the love of my life while I was your age, I would have been dying to take him for a ride.”

“Bulma-san!”

“What?” Bulma laughed. “I get it now. You want it. And you don’t know how to tell him.”

Videl fidgeted in her seat. “I… I… Yes.  Kami, yes. I want to do it with him. But… I don’t know if he wants it.”

“Nonsense!” Bulma waved a hand dismissively. “Gohan is like, twenty. All men at that age constantly have sex on the brain.”

“Yes, but… Should we?” Videl asked. “I mean… is he the one? How do I know? Is it the right time?”

Videl watched as Bulma’s face melted from her earlier carefree grin into a more serious, motherly smile.

“Do you love him, Videl-chan?” she asked.

“Yes,” she answered immediately. “I do. So much. But I also want to know if this is going to be forever, if I am really the best girl for him, and if he is really the best man for me.”

“Right now, what do you think?”

“I… I don’t know, Bulma-san,” she said resignedly. “I mean… I love him. But… how do I know that this isn’t going to change someday? When you… when you met Vegeta-san, how did you know that he was it?”

“I didn’t.”

“Whah-”

Bulma laughed. “I didn’t. Vegeta and I… we had a strange start, Videl.”

Videl knew that.

She also knew that in a strange way, Vegeta and Bulma were among the most stable, committed couples that she knew of, and so, Bulma’s flippant answer caught her entirely unaware.

Bulma grinned. “Videl-chan, when Vegeta and I started, it wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t sweet moments and young love like you and Gohan. It was a long, harsh, road. We had denied our feelings for each other, even after Trunks was born. But… I stayed with him when I realized that, even though he was the biggest jerk in the universe, he was my jerk. I couldn’t be away from him, and with him, I felt… free.”

Videl blinked. “Free?”

Bulma nodded. “I could be myself. I wasn’t the sophisticated, billionaire heiress that needed to have a smart and rehearsed answer for everything. I was just a woman – his woman, but I’d never hear the end of it if I acknowledged that – and with Vegeta… I could be as noisy, as smart, or as dumb as I could possibly be, and he would still be there, smirking back at me. He saw the best of me even during my worst moments, and I still loved him in spite of his. I realized then that there could never be anyone else for me.”

Videl stared down at her hands, mulling those words over.

She understood exactly what Bulma meant.

On the outside, Videl had to be perfect… a model citizen, the only daughter of the hero, Mr. Satan.

But with Gohan…

With Gohan, she was a dork, an ordinary girl who wanted to snuggle up to her boyfriend, uncaring of the expectations placed upon her shoulders.

And still, he had helped her become a better person, had made her realize skills that she had thought were far beyond her potential.

And suddenly, she remembered his words from the day before…

“You bring out the best in me, Videl-san.”

Gohan was Videl’s only one, just as Vegeta was the only one for Bulma.

“Thank you… I get it now, Bulma-san. Gohan-kun… he is the one for me,” Videl said, a thin sheen of tears standing at the edges of her eyes as she finally, truly understood.

“So then… back to your original question,” Bulma said, moving to take her hands and hold them comfortingly between her warm, gentle palms. “Are you sure you want to take the next step with him?”

Videl nodded.

“Then I don’t see why you shouldn’t,” Bulma said. “My only advice, of course, is to be safe about it. Use protection. You are both very young. Too young for the responsibility of a child. Goku had Gohan at around this age, but Goku is miles apart from Gohan, and I know that you two want to finish schooling first before starting a family.”

Videl felt the sides of her lips begin to lift in a smile, before she remembered the true question she wanted answered.

“But… Bulma-san… How do I get him to… you know?” Videl asked, her mortification mottling her face in varying shades of red.

Bulma brightened. “Ah! Do you need help with seduction, then? Coz I have a bunch of lingerie that I have never used yet, and I am pretty sure that he would go wild if he saw you wearing one.”

Videl shook her head. “I have tried to dress sexy for him. He doesn’t… he doesn’t seem to get it.”

Bulma went quiet, mouth in a tight line of contemplation. “Oh. Odd.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, what I mean is that Vegeta was pretty receptive to my advances when I really started trying,” Bulma said, and Videl cringed at the thought of the impending TMI.

“So Vegeta-san wasn’t… dense about it?” she asked.

“Oh Kami, no,” Bulma said, and Videl could swear that the glazed look that had suddenly entered the scientist’s blue eyes meant that she was thinking back on some very explicit memories.

“Oh.”

“Vegeta was very keen on it, he knew exactly where I was headed, and he went right along for the ride, it was awesome-”

“Bulma-san…”

“He was unstoppable! Well, still is, and-”

“Bulma-san.”

“There was even that one time when we-”

“Bulma-san!” Videl squealed, finally pulling Bulma out of her very eager trip down memory lane.

“Oops. Sorry. I got carried away,” she said, a hand raising up to scratch lightly at the back of her head as she started laughing. “But I guess, what I am trying to say is… clearly, Gohan does not share Vegeta’s knack for understanding non-verbal hints, so you gotta be more direct with him. You have to tell him. He’s a very nice boy, and I’m sure he would be very reasonable about it, Videl-chan.”

Videl’s cheeks may very well have turned permanently red at that point. “Yes but… that’s just it. I can’t find it in myself to actually say it, Bulma-san.”

Bulma frowned, and Videl saw her tense slightly, her head leaning near-imperceptibly towards the right. “Well… If you can’t say the words, Videl… I don’t know what to tell you. It seems to me like Gohan-kun may have taken after his father. And from what I know about the Sons, body language won’t cut it. Heck, I doubt anything short of you showing up naked in his bedroom will give Gohan-kun a hint!”

Videl stilled.

That was…

That was such an incredibly outlandish idea.

An incredibly outlandish idea that just might work.

She beamed up at Bulma, who had seemingly gotten distracted by other thoughts by then, before she stood up, shaking Bulma’s hand vigorously.

“Bulma-san, thank you! I know what to do now!” she said.

Bulma smiled back, standing and nodding at her with an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Go get him, girl!”

Videl ran out, mind already turning with her newfound plan.

8-8-8-8-8

Bulma glanced to her right with a sly smirk. “You can come out now.”

Her husband stepped casually away from the wall he had been leaning on, and Bulma grinned as he approached, arms crossed across his chest, a wry grin on his face.

“Spreading your vulgarity down to the children, I see,” he commented, and Bulma leaned up, laying a small kiss on his lips.

“No, I am not. She came to see me,” she responded. “Besides, hadn’t you been talking to Gohan just a few minutes before Videl arrived?”

Vegeta’s grin widened. “He had simply asked me for tips on how to control his strength during activities where one may inevitably lose control.”

“Oh, Videl is gonna be in trouble isn’t she?” Bulma cackled.

“Not in nearly as much trouble as you will be tonight, woman.”

“Tsk. Promises, promises.”

8-8-8-8-8

It was incredibly convenient, Videl thought, that Bulma had suddenly decided to call Goku-san, Chichi-san, and Goten-kun for an overnight excursion in one of her new luxury hotels, the day after their little discussion.

She thanked all the gods for Bulma once again, and resolved to get her an amazing gift for her next birthday.

Gohan, predictably, had opted to stay at home since he had an exam to study for.

Videl had snuck into his bedroom, arriving just a few minutes before Gohan did.

Before heading over, she had washed, scrubbed, shaved and exfoliated every single inch of herself, and she ran her hands down her silky legs as she began to set her plan into motion.

Videl hurriedly stripped naked, dumping her clothes onto a chair in the corner of Gohan’s neat little bedroom, before she made a bee-line for his small bed, diving beneath the covers just as she felt his ki wash over her as he approached the clearing where the little house stood.

She flared her own ki lightly, grinning when she felt his energy respond in kind.

She heard the front door creak open, and her stomach knotted in nervousness bordering on terror, even while her heart beat madly in anticipation.

“Videl-san?” Gohan called out, as she heard his light footsteps padding closer.

“In your bedroom, Gohan-kun!” she croaked, and she cleared her throat one last time before the door knob began to turn, and she closed her eyes tightly for a second before she opened them to regard the man that had begun to move into the room.

“Videl-san, what are yo-” he began cheerfully, cutting himself with a sharp inhale as he slowly, very surprisedly, took in the sight that laid before him.

“Vi-Videl-san!” he called softly, voice choked in absolute shock.

“Hi, Gohan-kun,” she whispered, hands tightly clutching the blankets that hid her clearly nude form from his awed gaze.

“Are you… are you…”

“Yes?”

“I-” he squeaked, before clearing his throat, and in a more reasonable tone, asked, “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“Well… yes,” Videl answered, flushing darkly as she watched him openly gape at her, still as a statue, still standing right in front of the open door. “This is your fault, you know.”

“Me?!”

“Yes! Kami, Gohan, I have tried every trick in the book, but you just didn’t seem to get it!” she cried. “I had to resort to a… a more drastic method.”

Gohan’s stiff stance seemed to relax marginally, before he, with a small voice, asked. “Are you…  are you trying to seduce me, Videl-san?”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you think?”

She watched as Gohan appeared to straighten, and his nervous eyes suddenly hardened into that firm, decisive look that he had on when faced with a foe that he intended to defeat.

“You want us to make love?”

She nodded.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

Videl smiled. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life, Gohan-kun.”

She could have sworn that she heard him mutter a relieved “Oh, thank Kami,” before his clothes melted off in a flurry of Super Saiyan frustration and he was above her, grasping madly at her body, the blanket somehow suddenly on the floor as he lunged forward and hungrily kissed her like the survival of the universe depended on the taste of her lips.

The last coherent thought that Videl had, before Gohan repeatedly brought her to heaven and back throughout the entirety of the night and the early morning, was that she had been right about that darn birth mark after all.

8-8-8-8-8

End

[idontgiveaflyinggrayson69]

Breath of Fresh Air

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

Requested: No

Tagging: @hurricanethortilla 

Fandom: Avengers

Relationship: Established; Thor x Reader. Post-Established; Loki x Reader

Summary: The Reader is widowed after Loki died out on the Dark World, but Thor is there to help her learn to love again, all while Loki watches everything unfold before his eyes behind his mask of Odin.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Major Character Death.

Disclaimer: This takes place directly after Thor: The Dark World, Jane is not a character in this universe, and Ragnarok never happens. xx

Comments: Oh buddy this one hits right in the feels. 

“No!” The screamed ripped through your lungs as you sliced your way through the last of the Dark Elves before running to where Loki had fallen moments after he had been stabbed through the chest by Kurse to save his brother.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Loki whispered to you as your pressed your hands into the wound, tears freely flowing down your cheeks.

“No you can’t go. You can’t. I just got you back.” You sobbed and Loki forced a smile.

“You’ll be alright. I promise you’ll be alright.”

You tried to swallow your sob, not wanting Loki’s final moments to be you filled with grief, sorrow and pain.

“I’ll tell father what you did here today.” Thor spoke, causing Loki to pull his eyes away from you.

“I didn’t do it for him.” Loki said, almost painlessly, looking back to you before resting his head back.

“No!” You shouted again, this time with Thor.

You awoke in your bed with a jump. You had been having nightmares that relived your husband’s death ever since he had died out on the Dark World five years ago.

It had been rough at first. Truly, it had.

You had married Loki almost a century before hand and you thought you had lost him forever when he fell from the Bifrost, but that wasn’t the case. Loki lived.

But he wasn’t Loki anymore. Not your Loki anyways.

Ever since he came back, the relationship between the two of you had basically ended. Both of you were still legally married and both of you still loved each other deeply, but it wasn’t the same.

Loki was cold and harsh and imprisoned. You went down to see him every day, but you couldn’t touch him and nothing you seemed to say to him really matter.

It hurt you, but you remained loyal to him. You were the Goddess of Fidelity after all and you truly believed that the two of you would be able to work things out.

But you were wrong.

It was Loki who told you that he wanted to end your marriage.

At first you were confused and didn’t believe what he was telling you, but after the reality set in, you fled Asgard, searching for some peace and some isolation to come to terms with what was happening.

That’s how you found the Æther. It was a complete accident, but it happened.

The events after that became blurred for you.

But you knew that there was an attack on Asgard, that Frigga, your mother-in-law had died trying to protect you, and that Odin didn’t want to give up the Æther, but that Thor had other plans, which you agreed to, which is how you, Thor and your soon to be ex-husband ended up on the Dark World.

Which is how Loki, the love of your life, ended up dead.

Asgard didn’t really mourn for Loki, much to your disappointment. There was a funeral for Asgard’s lost prince, but there was no body. Even Odin seemed not to care about Loki’s death, which enraged you. After that, things continued as they had been before and only you and Thor were left to mourn.

So, you and Thor began to spend more time together. You had lost a husband and Thor had a lost a brother, but you had both lost Loki. The two of you were the only people who understood each other’s pain.

Slowly, the two of you grew closer.

You weren’t surprised when Thor kissed you for the first time. It left an ache deep in your chest as Thor’s lips moved against yours, as he was the first man you had kissed since you started courting Loki nearly three centuries ago. But you weren’t surprised.

When Thor pulled back, neither of you said a word. Neither of you mentioned it for almost a week before Thor snapped and roughly kissed you, pressing you up against the wall of a darken hall.

Being with Thor made the hurting hurt less, but both of you knew that you had to keep your relationship a secret. One because your husband had died not long ago, and two because your husband was Thor’s brother.

But keeping things a secret made things easier for the two of you. Neither of you were really sure about the relationship and both of you were scared of going too fast. And you were still getting used to being with a man that wasn’t Loki.

The first time the two of you had sex was months into the relationship; the longest Thor had ever been with a woman without bedding her. It was soft and slow and Thor had asked you multiple times if you wanted to stop, but you didn’t. You wanted him, it just hurt you to be withhim.

Thor never made the hurting stop, but he did make it hurt less. He made you smile when you felt like breaking and he understood you. And you did the same for him. Maybe your relationship was built on unhealthy coping mechanisms, but it was what the two of you needed. And, as the years dragged on, the two of you learned to love each other.

While Thor was the first to kiss you, you were the first to tell him that you loved him. Thor was quiet for a while before he asked if you were sure. You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to his lips and told him that there was no doubt in your mind that you loved him.

Thor smiled back at you and told you that he loved you too.

The two of you were together in secret for a year before the two of you decided to tell Odin. Odin was…surprised, to say the least. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t say he disapproved. Your relationship with Thor was never mentioned by him again.

Not that either of you ever realized it wasn’t Odin with whom you were speaking to, but rather Loki, the man who had pushed the two of you together in the first place.

Thor brought you to Earth and introduced him to his Earth friends, which made you happy. You read to Thor, which made him happy because your voice was so expressive. Your relationship was fun and happy, and that was something your marriage with Loki hadn’t been in decades.

You described your feelings to Thor one night as, “being with you is like coming up for air after being held under water. I loved Loki, I still love him and I’ll always love him, but those last few decades were hard. And that last year with him was just…bad.”

Thor nodded to you. He didn’t understand, but he wanted to be there for you. That was what he was best at.

You made each other happy and you loved each other deeply.

You believed for a while that only youfelt the profound love because you were the Goddess of Fidelity and being loyal was what you were supposed to do. But Thor quickly pushed that thought aside, showing you how much he loved you. But you were also shocked at how much you loved Thor because you had always believed that people, especially gods and goddesses of love and loyalty, were only supposed to have one great love in their life. Yet you had two; the two sons of Odin.  

Maybe you were selfish, you thought. But again, Thor was there to prove you wrong and remind you that you weren’t being selfish. Thor was always there for you; Thor was there for you in ways Loki never was.

You and Thor kept your secret hidden from the public for three years. The public didn’t handle it bad per se, but they didn’t handle it well. Surprisingly, the outrage was more about the fact that Thor had kept a secret lover for two years, rather than who his secret lover was: his brother’s widow. That was a relief, but it also caused its own set of problems.

In the end, your relationship with Thor grew stronger the longer you were together and Thor, after the two of you had been together for four years, five years after Loki’s passing, decided that he wanted to make you his wife.

“Father,” Thor said, approaching the throne on which Odin sat. “There is something important we must discuss.”

“Yes, my son,” Loki replied.

“(Y/N),” Thor smiled, looking up at Odin. “She truly is a remarkable woman. I understand why Loki loved her as deeply as he did because I, too, love her more than I could ever express.”

Thor was too busy thinking of you to realize the tightening of Odin’s mouth.

“Yes?” Loki asked, not liking where Thor was going with this conversation.

“I have come to ask for your blessing in asking for (Y/N)’s hand in marriage. I know it’s…strange to say the least, and complicated. She was married to my brother for centuries, now only five years after he died to save her I ask to wed her…But father, I love her with everything that I am, and she loves me as well. So, I beg of you, to grant me your blessing and let me ask her to marry me.” Thor asked, his voice tightening a little as he spoke.

Loki swallowed and forced himself not to display any emotion. He had no right, after all, to be upset over what had happened. He was the one who had pushed you away. He was the one that asked to sever your marriage. He was the one who faked his death and effectively led you to Thor.

Everything was on him.

Loki could have revealed to you and Thor that he was alive and well, but he saw how happy you were with Thor. Loki hadn’t seen you that happy in years and he knew that he had to leave you be and let you be happy.

Your happiness was all that mattered to him, even if it came at the cost of his own.

So, Loki spoke the hardest word he had ever spoken. “Yes.”

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

The Strongest Magic--pt. 3

The Strongest Magic

Pairing: CS (duh!  That’s pretty much all I ever write!)

Setting: Neverland, just after 3x8

Rating: Somewhere between K+ and T

Summary: Pan has stolen Henry’s heart, but all is not yet lost. Emma, the Charmings, Hook, Regina and Rumplestiltskin must defeat Pan within six hours or Henry will die. Pan discovers the heart of the truest believer doesn’t contain the strongest magic of all. For that, he will need Emma’s heart. When Hook realizes what Emma’s planning, he makes a desperate plan to save her life.

Previous sections: (Part 1) (Part 2)

A/N  In honor of the Neverland Renaissance that seems to have swept Tumblr (I approve; I definitely approve!), and in honor the fact that it’s Throwback Thursday I decided to revisit one of my early CS fics.  (In fact, this is my very first fanfiction of any kind, so be gentle, lol.)  It was written during the 2 week break between 3x8 and 3x9, so it’s canon to that point.  This was written long before I joined Tumblr, so I’ve never posted it here, and I figured, with the resurgence of interest in Neverland, why not? Anyway, it’s a multi chapter, but rather than spam your dash with 9 separate posts, I decided to divide it up into 3 sections.  Enjoy!

A/N 2: Okay, so apparently I either never posted part three of this story back when I posted it for Throwback Thursday, or Tumblr ate it.  So, in order to rectify the situation (I kind of left Killian dead at the end of the previous part, and we know that can’t stand!), I decided to post/repost.  Enjoy!

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Chapter 7: A Change of Course

Emma sat heavily on her bunk below decks of the Jolly Roger. The ship had taken off ten minutes ago, Neal at the helm. Emma clutched Hook's letter firmly in her hand. She'd already read it three times. How had it come to this? How had Captain Hook come to matter to her in such a profound way that it seemed she was leaving a vital part of herself behind on Neverland. Hook had given his heart for her, but she was the one who felt like she had a giant gaping hole in her chest.

This is what happened when you let yourself care for someone. No use denying it now. She did care about him. He said he wanted her to go home and live a joy-filled life, but how exactly could she do that under the circumstances? She would never be able to explore the…whatever…that was starting to develop between them. She would always wonder what could have been. And she couldn't even pretend she hated him, like she had with Neal. Hook hadn't betrayed her; he'd shown selfless devotion to her.

It hurt to care. Oh, how she longed for an average boring life. She wished she'd never met Hook. No, that wasn't true. Her life was infinitely enriched from having known him, having been loved by him. If only she could just stop feeling. She just wanted to go numb. Too bad Regina was out of sleeping curses, she could use the peace you could find in sleep.

The tears began to flow again. She had cried more during the last few days on this bloody island than she ever had before in her life. She laughed grimly to herself. She'd called it the "bloody island;" she was even starting to think like him!

There was a soft knock on her door.

"Come in," she called listlessly.

"I thought you might like some company," Mary Margaret said as she walked in and sat on the bunk beside Emma.

"Yeah," Emma said, running her hands through her hair and sighing. "Maybe it would be better not to be alone right now."

Mary Margaret put her arm around Emma, and Emma laid her head on her mother's shoulder.

"He loved me," Emma said bleakly.

"Yes," Mary Margaret agreed, laying her cheek against the top of her daughter's head. "Long before…well before what just happened, that was becoming obvious. The question is, what are your feelings for him?"

Emma was quiet for a long time. When she did speak, her voice was so soft Mary Margaret had to strain to hear it. "I…I think I love him too."

"Oh, honey," Mary Margaret said gently, "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the pain you're feeling right now."

"Yeah," Emma said brusquely. "You know what the hell of it is? After Neal, I swore to myself I'd never love another man, never let another man have enough power over me to make me hurt, yet here I am. I almost wish I could hate Hook. Hate would be easier to deal with."

They were silent for several minutes. Emma appreciated Mary Margaret's silence. She was glad her mother wasn't throwing stereotypical words of comfort at her. Sometimes sorrow is too deep for words.

Mary Margaret chuckled softly to herself.

"I was just thinking about the day we met Hook," Mary Margaret said. "Who would have thought that debonair, ruthless pirate would one day save your life?"

Emma smiled. "He was so full of crap. He had so many one-liners up his sleeve, it was a wonder that black leather jacket fit over his arms!"

"What happened up on that beanstalk?" Mary Margaret asked, rubbing Emma's back. "You seemed different when you got back. You seemed to think even worse of him than when the two of you went up."

"I don't know," Emma said evasively. "I guess I just got scared. We worked so well together up there, and there was already, I don't know, a spark, I guess. I could see already that he would help me in any way I needed, and it scared me. I was scared I might be wrong about him. Then, afterwards, I guess I was kind of ashamed that I'd chained him up there. He had, after all kept his end of the bargain. I'm kind of surprised he even wanted anything to do with me again after that."

There was silence again for several moments, and then Emma spoke up again.

"Mom?" Emma could tell Mary Margaret was pleased to be addressed like that. "Is love really worth it?"

"I wouldn't trade a moment I've had with your father for anything in the world," Mary Margaret said simply. "It wasn't always easy. His step father was against the match; my step mother was against…well, me and anything that might make me happy; the curse made him think he was married to another woman; I was stuck in a different realm when we were sucked into the Enchanted Forest. Through it all, I always had that faith that somehow, your father and I would always find each other."

The anger started then. Anger at her parents for their "happily ever after." Anger at herself for falling in love again. Even anger at Hook.

"He lied to me, Mom!" Emma ground out. She balled her hands into fists. "On the way back from the Swamp of Despair, he lied to me. He promised me he would never leave me. He swore it to me! Now look. He has left me!"

"No, Mom," came a voice from the door. Emma hadn't even heard Henry come in. "He didn't leave you; you left him! You're the one who left him on Neverland."

"Henry," Mary Margaret said gently, "now isn't the time. Your mom's pretty upset."

Henry paid no attention to Mary Margaret, but walked into the room and stopped right before Emma. "He saved my life. I couldn't believe it, but Captain Hook saved my life! We have to save him!"

Emma felt the lump in her throat grow larger. "Henry," she said taking his hands and looking into his face, "there is nothing in this world I would rather do, but I just can't. Pan's won. Hook's body has gone cold already. If it was just me, I would go back and try anyway, but it's not. I can't put you in danger like that."

"Mom, you love him, don't you?"

"Yeah kid, I do." Emma answered simply. One solitary tear trickled down her face. She briskly wiped it away.

"Don't you see?" he asked earnestly "That's it! True love is the strongest power on earth. Love is strength. Believe in your love. You can use love to save Hook!"

Believe in your love; love is strength. Those phrases tugged at Emma. She gasped. Love is strength. She had said those very words to Cora when she performed her first bit of magic. She had pushed Mary Margaret out of the way…out of love…and Cora was not able to take her heart. She thought of the fires she'd finally been able to start in Neverland. She produced the fire when she thought of Henry, when she thought about how much she loved him, how much she wanted to protect him from Pan. What about what happened at Dark Hollow? She'd been able to light the candle only after Hook was taken by the shadow. It was fear for him, love of him that had allowed her to light the flame.

Regina was wrong. The strongest magic wasn't fueled by anger, it was fueled by love! Love was the source of her magic!

"Henry's right," Emma said animatedly. She jumped to her feet. "We've got to go back. We've got to save Hook. It may be crazy, but I've got to try!"

Emma raced toward the helm. Neal stood at the wheel talking and joking with Tinkerbelle.

"Neal, turn around!" Emma shouted. "We've got to go back! Hook needs our help!"

Suddenly everyone began talking at once.

"Emma, what are you talking about?"

"Have you lost your mind, dearie?"

"Not a chance, Miss Swan."

"Emma, we've already talked about this…"

"David, she's right."

Could they all just shut up for a second? They were wasting time!

"GUYS!" she shouted loud enough to drown everyone out. They all fell silent and turned toward her. "We can't just leave him. You know we can't. Look at all he's done for us, all of us throughout this whole Neverland nightmare! He's been our guide. He's saved Henry's life and David's life, and my life. He's rescued Neal. He's been my rock, and…I love him."

Neal's face clouded, and Tinkerbelle discreetly stepped back.

"Emma, what are you saying?" Neal asked in a pained voice.

This was neither the time nor the place for this discussion, but then, she supposed there would never be a good time or a place for it.

"Neal," she said gently, stepping forward to touch his arm. "A part of me will always love you. You never quite forget your first love. But things have changed. I've changed. I'm not the same person I was 11 years ago. Neither are you. Look, I know you had the best of intentions and everything, but what happened back then, you letting August convince you to send me to jail…well, it left a scar. A deep, painful scar, that is only now beginning to heal. Neal, I do forgive you for what happened, but there are some things a person just can't ever forget."

"Emma, please," Neal pleaded, his hand gripping hers. "I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you, but our love can overcome this."

"That's just it, Neal," Emma said sadly. She didn't want to hurt him, but she had to make him understand. "What we had was beautiful, and I'll never regret it because it brought us Henry, but I don't think it was true love."

If possible, Neal looked even more wounded.

"I've seen the love my parents share," she continued. "They'd do anything for each other. I thought I'd never be able to find that kind of love, but I have. It's like…I don't know…it's like there has always been this piece of me that was missing. When Hook gave his life for Henry, for me, well, I knew he was the one that completed me."

Neal dropped his eyes.

"Neal," she said touching his arm again. He looked back up at her, "you deserve to find the woman who completes you like that."

He merely looked at her for several moments and then nodded. His eyes flickered briefly to the side. Toward Tinkerbelle? What exactly happened on that trip to Pixie Hollow?

"This is all very touching, dearie," Rumplestiltskin said striding forward, "but you can't honestly be suggesting we go back and take on Pan for a man who is already dead!"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Emma said earnestly. "Look, there's never been any love lost between you and Hook. I get that. But what about Pan? Do we just leave him there…all powerful? Do we let him bask in his victory? Give him the power to terrorize other people, other families the way he's terrorized us? We need to defeat him, so that he can never hurt anyone else again."

"Emma," Charming said firmly, taking a step forward, "we just can't do this. It's too late."

"No," Mary Margaret said firmly. Emma shot a grateful look at her mother. "Charming, what is it we always say to each other? I'll find you. I'll always find you. Our love has always been strong enough to overcome any obstacle. It's time we let our daughter go after her true love. She believes her love can save him, and I believe in her."

They looked at each other for several moments. Finally Charming nodded.

Rumplestiltskin growled deep in his throat. "Regina," he said, "talk some sense into them!"

Regina looked at Emma for a moment, an assessing look on her face. Finally she rolled her eyes. "Sorry Gold," she said grimly, "but I've found it to be fruitless to try to change Miss Swan's mind once she's made it up."

"Alright everyone," Neal said, turning back to the wheel. "Prepare for a change of course. Neverland, here we come!"

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Chapter 8: The Final Battle

"I'll stay with the boy," Tinkerbelle offered. "I have no desire to confront an angry and immortal Pan."

"Thank you," Emma said gratefully.

"Mom," Henry said earnestly, "I want to come too. I can help."

"No!" said Emma, Regina, Snow, Charming, Neal and Rumplestiltskin.

"Kid," Emma said, crouching down so that she was on eye level with her son, "We need to know you're safe. This is going to be a difficult and dangerous mission, and we'll need to focus all our energy on saving Hook and defeating Pan. We can't worry about you being in danger."

"But I can help!" Henry insisted. "I have the heart of the truest believer. I'm not afraid of Pan."

"Henry," Charming tried, crouching down so that he was next to Emma, "do you remember when your mom and grandma were stuck in the Enchanted Forest and I started teaching you about becoming a knight?"

"Yeah," Henry said uncomfortably, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Remember, what I said about courage?"

"Yeah," Henry said with a sigh, "You said that sometimes courage means not acting when you want to. Sometimes it means staying behind."

"Exactly," Charming said. "This is one of those times. I need you to stay on board the Jolly Roger and protect Tinkerbelle. I need you to guard the pixie dust and make sure the ship is ready to make a quick getaway as soon as we return."

Henry sighed. "Okay. Just be careful, okay?"

Emma hugged Henry once more and looked up at Charming. Thank you, she mouthed. He nodded in acknowledgement.

The rescue party, led by Emma cautiously walked off the gangplank and onto the shores of Neverland. Would Pan know of their return already? Would he set a trap for them? As they carefully walked across the shore, their confidence increased. No one was there to meet them.

"Come on," Emma shouted, breaking into a run, "We've got no time to waste."

They ran at a breakneck pace until they reached the mouth of Skull Rock. Emma rested for a moment in the entrance, leaning against a wall to catch her breath.

"What's the plan, Miss Swan?" Regina asked breathlessly.

"I need to make sure Hook is here," she said, her glance encompassing the whole group. "And…I need a moment with him."

Mary Margaret rubbed Emma's shoulder. "Go on honey. We'll guard the entrance of the cave until you call for us."

Emma walked slowly forward. The cave was well lit, both by the sconce burning on the wall and by the brilliant green pillar of light in the center. She had barely entered the cave before she saw Hook's lifeless body lying awkwardly on the floor. No one had arranged it after he fell; he looked so uncomfortable.

Emma ran to him and collapsed beside his body. She clasped his cold hand with one of hers, and gently brushed his dark hair from his brow with the other. She'd known what he'd done for her and for Henry, but seeing him here brought it home to her all the more vividly. The tears filled her eyes again, but she ruthlessly pushed them away. If she was to defeat Pan, she had to stay clear-headed. She couldn't afford to indulge in emotion.

"Hook…Killian," she whispered caressing his icy cheek, "I will find a way to save you. I love you."

She leaned forward and gently kissed his still lips. A wave of magic, warm and rose-colored erupted from their joined lips, and quickly spread to fill the entire cave. Of course! Emma thought to herself. Why didn't I think of this before? True love's kiss! Could it restore Hook? She watched him intently. Color slowly came back into his face and hands. Emma hastily cupped his face in her hands once again. He was warm!

"Wake up!" she whispered, "Come back to me!" She waited several minutes, caressing his face, his hands, his hair, but he never stirred.

Emma knew a moment of disappointment, but then she gathered her resolve back around her. If true love's kiss could revive him enough to bring warmth back into his body, she knew her love could defeat Pan!

Peter Pan abruptly stopped playing his pipes and raised his hands for quiet. The lost boys immediately stopped their dance.

"What is it?" Felix asked.

Pan clutched at his chest, where Hook's heart had suddenly begun to pound. "They're back, and they've reached the captain."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Felix asked with a cold smile. "Let's go show them what happens to those who refuse to heed Pan's instructions!"

Emma had gotten to her feet and was striding toward the cave's entrance when she heard her mother's shout.

"We've got company!"

"We've got to guard his body!" Emma shouted back. "Help me."

Snow, Charming, Regina, Neal and Rumplestiltskin poured into the cave. Each took a place, until they had Hook completely surrounded. Emma was in front facing the opening of the cave.

"Take care of the lost boys," she ordered, naturally falling back into the role of leader, "Pan is mine."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than the lost boys rushed into the cave, their war cries echoing along the stone walls. Emma expected them to attack immediately, but they didn't. They surrounded them, raised their weapons and then waited.

Pan flew in on a jet of yellow-green light. He landed before Emma. The mocking look that she was used to seeing on his face was gone, replaced with a deadly earnestness.

"I thought my instructions to Henry were crystal clear," Pan growled, "You should be halfway back to your beloved Storybrook by now."

Emma shook her head. "That's not how true love works. I won't leave Hook to rot on this island. He's coming back to Storybrook with us…him AND his heart!"

"You're weak!" Pan spat back at her, "You let your heart dictate your actions. You think your love can save him? Well, you're about to find out how worthless your pathetic love is!"

"Well let's get on with it then," Emma ground out.

Pan gave a sign with his hand, and with a cry, the lost boys attacked. Emma drew her sword and advanced on Pan. The cries and shouts of pitched battle were going on all around her. She heard the metallic sound of swords clashing. The whooshing of an arrow leaving it's quiver, the crackling of a fireball, and some sort of crashing sound that must be Rumplestiltskin's magical weapon of choice.

She swung at Pan, but he disappeared and materialized several feet away. How the hell was she supposed to fight an enemy that she couldn't even seem to touch? She advanced and tried again, but her progress was stopped by a lost boy who fell at her feet, an arrow protruding from his shoulder.

"Looking for me?" came a voice from behind her. She whirled and raised her sword in both hands.

She realized her mistake immediately. Pan was there, far too near her. With both arms raised, her chest was exposed, and Pan held a knife high, poised to plunge right into her heart!

"Emma!" she heard her mother scream. It seemed like time moved in slow motion. She saw Pan's arm swing downward, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the blinding, screaming pain.

But it never came. She abruptly opened her eyes and saw a brief look of shock on Pan's face. He struck out again, but the knife stopped two inches from her chest as though it had come in contact with an invisible wall. Pan uttered a cry of rage.

What was going on here? Suddenly, understanding dawned on Emma's face. "You can't touch me!" She said in wonder, her eyes widening. "Hook's heart beats in your chest, and it won't let you harm the woman he loves!"

Charming hurtled through the sea of combatants, clearly coming to her aid.

"Stay back, Dad," Emma yelled. Charming stopped abruptly. The lost boys must have sensed that something momentous was about to happen, because almost as one they dropped their weapons and turned toward Emma and Pan.

Emma sheathed Neal's sword. She knew, she suddenly had absolute confidence that it would be the magic of her love and no other weapon that would defeat Pan. The boy stood still, wearing a look of utter bafflement on his face.

Emma closed her eyes and extended her hands. She thought of Henry back at the ship. She thought of her parents fighting with all their might to help and protect her. She thought of Hook lying still and dead on the floor of the cave. Love welled up from the very depths of her being. She felt its force and power flowing from her heart, through her arms and out her fingertips.

Pan gasped, and Emma opened her eyes. Rose-colored light flowed from her fingers and coiled around Pan like a rope. He struggled, but he was completely immobilized. The love light bound him from the neck down. Only a small space just over his heart remained free of the entanglement.

"Regina, get over here!" Emma ordered. "We need Hook's heart!"

Regina stepped forward and extended her open hand toward Pan's chest, but she couldn't reach inside.

"Emma, honey," Snow White breathed, "It has to be you. The heart belongs to you. You're the one who has to retrieve it."

Shaking slightly, Emma extended her hand. It slipped through Pan's chest as easily as it would slip through warm water. She grasped Hooks warm, beating heart, and gently pulled it out.

"No!" Pan shouted. The column of light faded until it was almost nonexistent.

Emma looked at the heart. It was bright red and strong. Not a smudge marred it. Here was proof, if anyone needed it, that Hook was a hero.

Gently, Emma slid to her knees before Hook. She extended her hand and slipped his heart back into its place in his chest. Emma watched and waited a beat. Two beats. Suddenly his eyes opened.

"Emma," he breathed gently, smiling and reaching up to cup her face.

"Hook!" she yelled, tears streaming down her face. She raised him up and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. His heart beat strong and steady against her ear.

"I love you!" she whispered over and over again.

"Look!" Neal called out, gesturing to the center of the cave.

Emma pulled herself back from Hook far enough to see where Neal was pointing. The light in the center of the cave was suddenly extinguished. In its place sat the giant hourglass Emma remembered seeing during her first trip to Skull Rock. The top of the hourglass was more than half empty and the sand rushed out at a breakneck speed.

"No!" Pan shouted.

It took only minutes for the last grain of sand to settle into the bottom of the hourglass. Pan fell to the ground and closed his eyes. A wave of green light settled over his still form, and when it lifted, Peter Pan was gone. In his place lay a middle aged gentleman with longish brown hair and a red coat.

"Papa," Rumplestiltskin breathed in an agonized whisper. Then, he firmly turned his back on the man who had abandoned him for a chance at eternal youth.

Peter Pan was no more.

Half an hour later they were on the docks where the Jolly Roger awaited them. It was over. It was finally over. Peter Pan could never harm anyone again. Hook was surprised at the extreme wave of relief that suffused his entire body. He was only a few minutes from leaving Neverland…for good this time.

They were walking up the gangplank in groups of two. Snow and Charming led the way followed by Regina and Henry. Rumplestiltskin and Neal, talking animatedly, came next, followed by Tinkerbelle and Wendy. Hook, walking near Emma, took a step onto the gangplank, but she stopped him with a hand to his arm.

"Hook," she said looking him straight in the eye, "For the record. You are the most honorable man I know. What you heard in the swamp was dead wrong. You're not a villain or a looser. You're a hero. Thank you. For all you've done for us. Without you, Henry would have died."

Hook dropped his eyes. He had been a "villain" for so long, he hardly knew how to receive praise and thanks anymore. But it gratified him. Particularly from this woman, it gratified him. The "charming rogue" mask he'd worn for so long to hide his true emotions slipped into place.

"Well, love," he said with a grin, "I seem to remember you offered me a display of your gratitude for saving your father's life not too long ago. I wouldn't turn down a repeat performance."

Her grin matched his. "I don't know," she flirted, "I kind of thought saving your life back there at Skull Rock was thanks enough."

"True enough, lass," he returned, "It would appear I'm the one who owes you a debt of gratitude."

Hook brought his good hand to Emma's cheek and moved forward. He waited when he was a hairs-breadth away from her and looked into her eyes. If she pulled back, he would step away. It would nearly kill him, but he would step away. But there was no hesitation in Emma's eyes, only invitation, and a deep abiding love.

Hook closed the distance and settled his lips onto hers. This was a slow kiss, a gentle one. It had none of the urgency and fire of their first kiss, but in some ways it was eminently sweeter. Emma's arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, and his encircled her waist. The kiss went on and on, but eventually he ended it. He rested his head against hers for a moment, trying to catch his breath.

"That was…" he began, just as he had after their first kiss.

"A three time thing?" she replied, and he could hear the laughter in her voice.

"Not hardly!" he growled, and planted a quick peck on her lips as a punctuation to his sentence.

"Let's go home," Emma said with a radiant smile. It was like the sun breaking out on a cloudy day.

Hook sighed. "I've had no place to call home for as long as I can remember. Are you sure you want me with you when we get back to Storybrooke?"

Her smile turned tender. "Hook, don't you get it? With the strongest magic in all the realms binding us together, how could I want you anywhere else?"

The End!

[intergalacticwartimespace]

Scorpio Rising Chapter 2

Author: @intergalacticwartimespace  (somelikeithoth on a03!)

Title: Scorpio Rising

Pairings: Poe/Finn, Rey/Rose, minor Finn/Rose

Summary:  Poe has a panic attack after an unpleasant conversation with Finn triggers a wave of emotion he hadn't realized he hadn't been feeling. Afterward, General Leia asks Poe to lead a memorial service for those killed by the Dreadnought and on Crait. Leia can see Poe is struggling but she struggles herself how to connect with him when she and her son are partly responsible for his pain.

TW:  Panic Attacks, nightmares, memorial services/funerals.

A/N: I have a busy day tomorrow so I am posting chapter 2 early so that I don't forget. Ahhh more angst. I really need to write a fluffy fic for how angsty this is going to be. It's gonna get worse before it gets better, but I promise a happy ending. There is a nice dose of Damerey friendship solidarity. Enjoy & leave a comment if you have anything to say! I am looking for a beta for this fic, so if you or someone you know is interested, let me know.

The emotions came quicker than Poe could possibly feel them. Poe walked quickly through the halls of the base, each step becoming harder to calculate. The lights seemed too bright and everything in his vision field distorted like a fish eye lense. His feet felt out of step and his whole body tingled. Finally Poe made it to the cool outside night air. Poe staggered off base and sat beside a large durasteel supply crate in the grass. Poe’s heart raced and his veins flowed with ice. The tears just kept coming.

I’m dreaming, I must be dreaming. Poe pulled his knees to his chest and buried his head in his knees, squeezing his eyes shut. Kylo Ren was in his brain, right there. He remembered the moment Kylo got it out of him. He hadn’t been strong enough. Shame threatened to swallow him whole right then. It’s my fault, it was all my fault. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t given up the base.

“Fuck,” Poe sobbed. “ Fuck , it’s my fault.” His chest heaved. I shouldn’t even be feeling this way, he thought. I can handle rejection and this has nothing to do with Finn-

Finn. He remembered with a certain clarity the moment Finn removed his stormtrooper helmet. “ This is a rescue. ” He remembered Finn wearing his jacket, and the careful way that he had tucked the blanket under Rose’s chin. Finn was so good . But for a split second, Poe thought it might have been better if he had never been rescued at all. So many less people would have died at his hand. Rose’s sister would still be here.

Poe Dameron did not want to be Poe Dameron anymore. It turns out that being the best pilot in the galaxy weighed heavy on one’s shoulders. All he wanted was to sleep, to just sleep and forget and not wake up.

Distantly he heard BB-8’s trademark warble calling out for him. [ Poe, Master-Poe; where are you? Don’t make me alert the general. ]

Poe huffed and stood up. He quickly wiped snotty tears on his shirt and wrung out his hands. He couldn’t let BB-8 see him like this. Slowly he walked to his droid.

“I’m over here buddy,” Poe knelt down and hugged his droid.

[ Poe… ]

“I’m fine, buddy. Let’s go to bed.”

[ Poe does not seem ‘fine.’ ] His eyes were red and his hair was a mess. His hands trembled and his voice quaked. [ Was Master-Poe having a panic attack? ]

“I’ll postpone your matienience if you keep this you yourself,” Poe offered.

After some careful consideration, the droid beeped, [ Deal. ] BB-8 happily rolled back to base.

Poe fell asleep quickly once back in his quarters, exhausted from his crying fit. He slept peacefully for a few hours when he was awoken by the sound of his door sliding open.

He tried to lift his head and call out but no words came. A tall black figure stood in the doorway. For several minutes the figure stood, unmoving, and Poe could not break his stare. He tried to move, to do anything, but his body wasn’t responding. The black figure took several slow steps towards him. He was at his bedside now, but Poe still could not see his face. He heard a click. Kylo Ren’s lightsaber roared to life. Leia Organa's son raised his arm ready to strike.

Poe was awoken by his own tongue-tied shout. It took a few moments for his eyes to focus. He was facing the wall of his bunk but he could sense something standing beside him. He was afraid of what he might find if he turned his head.

[ General-Leia wants to see you right away, Master-Poe. ] BB-8 beeped helpfully. Poe groaned and flopped onto his back. He did not want to fight with Leia.

“General,” Poe stood at attention. “You wanted to see me?”

“At ease, Captain.” Leia smiled at him, and though Poe had relaxed, there was an uneasy tension. He could not meet her eyes more than a few seconds at a time. “Please sit. There is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Poe obeyed, taking a seat at across from Leia at her desk. Poe looked past her at the Rebel flag hanging on the duracrete wall behind her.

“Now that we have settled into the new base, I was thinking it was time we honored our dead.” Poe nodded. “I was hoping you would say a few words.”

Poe didn’t respond.

“Poe?”

“I don’t want to.”

She sighed. “Poe, Crait happened. The Dreadnaught happened. It’s time to cut our losses and move on.” Leia said.

“All due respect,” Poe said bitterly, “But if I recall you criticized my choices, and now you want me to memorialize them?”

“Poe.” Leia said sternly. His jaw tightened. He did not want to fight with Princess Leia, his mothers oldest friend.

“Fine.” Poe said. “May I leave?”

Leia inhaled. There was still so much more to say. So much she still needed to apologize for. But this was so much bigger than one fight. War, was complicated and messy, and she needed to find words that were enough for that. “Poe. I,” she paused.

Poe would rather be anywhere else but here. Leia knew this. It was easy to talk through the most logical action when you weren’t holding up the roof and knee-deep in it, like Poe had done on her behalf so many times. It was easy to call off an attack from the safety of the bridge when your best friends weren’t dying in real time around you.

“You may.” As Poe got up to leave, Leia shut her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Surrogate sons were no easier than biological sons, Leia had discovered.

Later in the day, Poe contemplated his new task while he repaired old equipment on the previously abandoned rebel base. He was laying on his back underneath inside a dusty durastele cabinet, rewiring colorful circuits. It was not unusual for the general to ask the impossible of him. It’s just that if you do the impossible once, he had found, they don’t stop asking. Poe was tired. Broken like a scratched holovid, replaying the same scenes over, and over, and over again, ad nauseum. His conversation with Leia skipped in his head, superimposed on images of that week.

Kylo Ren, her son, had tortured him; an abuse that had left him on his side. And she protected him. Of course, she had. It was a bitter reminder who was Leia’s true son. She had slapped him, humiliated him, and finally shot him. Maybe he half deserved it, he wondered.

He zapped himself on one of the wires. An expletive escaped his mouth. He couldn’t say he was surprised that had happened. It seemed the Force’s way of reminding him of his place. He hadn’t forgotten; it was so shameful to say that Leia had in any way been inadequate. War was a profound sacrifice. Parenthood was a profound sacrifice.

But goddamn his mother and his father, this life that they had set him up for. He half loathed them, and fully loved them for it. He wanted to so badly to be able to blame someone, blame his mother for leaving him behind, for leaving him looking for mothers in inappropriate, authoritative positions. But he couldn’t blame her. Whether she lived or died, Poe would have likely still found his way to the resistance; that’s just the kind of person he was. He probably would have loved Leia just as fiercely because that’s just the kind of woman she was.

Poe swore again, and this time not because the wires had shocked him. The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, after all.

The next afternoon, Poe had tasked Rey with helping him search the basement of the old Rebel base for supplies for the memorial. Lights flickered in damp tunnels underneath the base. BB-8 quietly rolled alongside them, projecting a shining light. “So do you know where this supply closet is?” Rey asked. She idly kicked a pebble as Poe ducked his head into a room, he and BB-8 giving it a once over.

“Leia said it would be somewhere in one of these rooms,” Poe called from inside the room.

“Right. How is that, by the way, you and Leia? Finn told me what happened on the bridge.” Poe stepped out into the hallway again and gave her a dead-eye stare. “Oookay, forget I asked.”

Rey brushed her fingers over cobwebbed walls. These halls bore too much resemblance to the one she had found Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber in.

“Have you ever held a memorial before?” Rey changed the subject.  Poe shook his head. “I spoke at my mothers funeral.”

Blast, she thought. “ Oh, Poe. I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you had…” It suddenly made sense, his relationship with Leia. She was clearly more to him than a commanding officer.

“S’okay Rey, you didn’t know.” He said with a weakly reassuring smile. He clapped her on the shoulder. “We’re at war. Everybody’s lost somebody.”

Rey pressed her lips together. “I know. I mean- My parents, they left me on Jakku.” Rey said.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Rey.” he said.

“Were you close with your mother?” Rey asked as she ducked her head into another room. Then, “Poe, I think this is it.” Her hands fumbled in the dark and found an exposed lightswitch. The fluorescent lights flickered over head. They were in a medium sized room with aluminum shelves lining the walls. On the largest shelf on the far wall, a stack of Rebel flags sat folded. On the shelf above them, several scraped up helmets left over from the Rebel Alliance sat covered in dust. Poe stepped forward and picked one up, dusting it off.

“I learned how to fly on my mother's knee.” He said, placing the helmet on Rey’s head. It was too large for her and fell to one side. Poe bopped her on the head, which only exaggerated the tilt. “There. Fits like a glove.” Poe grinned, and Rey grinned back. Rey didn’t know what a brother, or a friend, for that matter was supposed to feel like, but she thought that Poe must be pretty close to the real thing.

Rey and Poe had, with the help of BB-8, dragged crates of helmets and flags to the main hall of the base. At the front of the large room, Poe arranged the crates in a horizontal line, one for each of the transports and main fleets that had been taken out by the First Order.  Traditionally, Poe had said, that a kind of battlefield cross would have been made for each fallen member of the resistance. However, it was glaringly obvious that they didn't have nearly enough resources for the kind of large-scale loss they had suffered. Rey was unsure of what to expect for a Resistance memorial service. But as she helped Poe set up for it the afternoon of, she couldn't shake the weighty feeling of tradition and ritual. Rey watched as with great reverence Poe draped the Rebel flag over each crate, the Rebel insignia hanging in front. Then, Poe took a helmet and placed one atop each draped crate.

With the stage set for the memorial, Poe left for his barracks to go over once more what he had planned to say. This was not to say that he something planned at all. What could he possibly say?

The thing about war in intergalactic space is that while there were often casualties, there were not often bodies. In his more halcyon, hopeful days, Poe liked to believe that if we were vaporized in war, then whatever weird, vague, nebulous shit we were made of would join with the Force or some Luke Skywalker shit like that.

Now, however, Poe questions what an “instant” death really means. He wonders about the nature of matter and if we really are greater than the sum of our parts. Nihilism never looked good on him, but he isn’t quite sure this whole Force thing means anything. Maybe we are all fighting for nothing, delaying nothing, he thinks. But he has to believe anyway because if it really is all for nothing, if Rose’s sister died for nothing, that might be worse than not knowing.

After setting up the display, Poe returned to his room on base to prepare for the service. When he entered the room Poe didn't bother flicking on the lights; he knew just what he would see. Bed sheets hung halfway off the bed in a tangled mess, a small pile of dirty clothes at the foot of the bed. Poe's usually fairly neat desk was strewn with loose papers, garbage, and spare parts for BB-8. The trash overflowed. Poe's holo-communicator blinked on the nightstand next to his bed. In the dim light of the early evening, Poe went to his closet and rifled through a basket of clothes. Poe picked up a grey button up shirt and sniffed it. Deciding that it met the bare minimum requirements, he swapped it with his other shirt. Poe quickly ducked into the bathroom, raking his fingers through his curly dark hair, but he couldn’t be bothered to do much more than that. It was good enough; appearances hardly mattered when everyone else feels like shit. Poe yanked on his jacket and went out the door.

Quietly the Resistance filed into the hall that evening. Rey and BB-8 had made quick work of setting up enough chairs for everyone in two columns. Poe paced about nervously greeting members of the Resistance. He played the part of ‘fearless leader,’ but inside he felt sheepish.  Leia wore one of her glorious robes. She graciously walked from person to person, shaking the hands of low-level Resistance members, offering condolences, sharing memories. ‘ She truly is royalty,’ Poe thought. It occurred to Poe then that Leia had lost someone dear to her too.

The ceremony started on time, though Poe wished he could have delayed it just another moment. Quietly Leia took a seat behind the small tribute Rey and Poe had arranged.  Rey sat in the first row, BB-8 seated next to her on the inner edge of the aisle. Beside her sat Finn. Rose cast her eyes downward as she walked into the room. She sat beside Finn. Finn gently placed an arm around her shoulder, but she shrugged it off. Finn placed his hands in his lap, fidgeting.  There was a chasm between them.

Leia climbed to the podium to give an outline of the evening's plans. "We are gathered here to mourn our dead. After a few remarks from Captain Dameron, we will leave time for those who wish to spend a moment. Afterwards, there will be refreshments. We also invite anyone who is struggling at this time to visit the medbay for counseling." Someone in the audience scoffed. "Captain Dameron, the time is yours." Though Poe was a few steps from the podium, the journey seemed to take an eternity. Perhaps for those who did not know him well, Poe seemed to be coping, but the way he carried himself was louder than silence.

Grimly, Poe looked over the audience. Leia and Admiral Holdo were in the back of his mind. He is dangerous. He is volatile. And goddamn he has no right to be here. Finn looked to Rey. Rey merely shrugged. Poe had not told her what he had planned for the memorial, but something told her this was not it. In the silence, one could hear three things: BB-8 quietly whirring, a few idle coughs, and several sniffles and choked sobs. Rey silently communicated with Poe the best she could. She wasn't exactly sure how the Force worked in a lot of ways, especially regarding mind reading and such, but she hoped and prayed that her thoughts were loud enough for Poe to hear. 'You can do this.'

Finally, Poe lifted his head and cleared his throat.

'Reckless flyboy.'

“I know that this has been a hard few days, hell, it's been a hard few months... There has been more than enough to go around lately." then Poe laughed uncomfortably. Rose did not look up when Poe began speaking.  

"There will be more to come. But listen to me,” Poe raised a finger, and nervously licked his lips. “I was aboard the ship of the First Order. These bastards don't care about anything. They will do what they must to get what they want. They are cynical and calculating. I know the odds are stacked against us…” Poe clasped his hands, he started and stopped again. Finally, he said, “This loss hurts. It hurts because it matters."

Rose finally raised her head, but Poe could not hold her gaze for more than a few seconds. He looked to Finn. Finn’s gaze held steady. "Don’t let the First Order take that away from you. If we are to have a fighting chance, you cannot become like them. You must refuse to join them. This hurt is the difference between us and them. On the memory of those taken from us, every night we survive, even if it is just one more day, it is total victory again and again. If you make it to midnight tonight, you can make it tomorrow.” Poe said the words with shaky confidence. He believed them, yeah, he had to believe his own words because the survival of the resistance depended on it, but even they could not fix the bottom line: He can’t look Rose in the eye because he got her sister killed and he’s in love with her boyfriend.

Poe returned to his seat at the front next to the general. Leia stood and dismissed the mourners. Poe sat hands clasped in his lap, head down low. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You did good, Poe,” Leia said. Poe said nothing. She seemed so much older than she had weeks ago. Poe looked past her and saw Rey smiling gently at him; Finn comforted Rose. Poe could hardly be mad at him, Finn was a good man.  A tear missed his cheek and hit the floor.

Poe felt like a walking wound.

After the memorial service, the majority of the rebels shuffle to the mess hall for supper. Leia watched as Poe slunk away from the group and walked lonely down the hall to his quarters. Not even his faithful droid was with him.

The walls seemed to close around him as he walked. Leia felt an ocean of distance from where he needed her to be. From the back of his head, Poe looks so much like her, Leia thinks. She knows this is hardly the life Shara Bey would have chosen for her son, after all, she sacrificed for a better world for him.

But watching Poe walk down the back of the hall, his head of dark curls and the way he carried himself each gifts from his mother, Leia can’t help but feel that Poe is so himself that in past lives and future lives, it would always end the same: He would get himself killed fighting for a cause that he believed in.

Leia wondered now if her old friend could see her son now. Shara do you know you have a beautiful son? She wondered.