#spent the evening watching this and ginger snaps back: the beginning

[nextdoor-neighbors]

Frustrations

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: When making Amorentia in Potions, you and Fred Weasley - who you can’t stand - come to a horrifying realization of who your potions smell like.

A/N: I know this isn’t really how Amortenia works but just bare with me, I liked the idea.

Link to Part 2!

“Today, we’ll be making Amortentia.”

“Ooh,” you say, under your breath, shifting in your chair. You’d heard of Amortenia, so you are excited to see what yours will smell like.

“I swear, you’re the only person in this world to get excited over Potions,” your best friend, Cedric, whispers in return, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m not the only one,” you retort, “don’t forget about Snape.”

“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Diggory.” 

You look up at the sound of your name, cringing inwardly at Snape’s harsh gaze on you. Normally, your professor didn’t have a problem with you. You could say he liked you, even, considering you were normally the only one in the class to answer his questions.

“Miss Y/L/N. What is Amortentia?”

After rattling off a perfect definition, you hear snickers behind you, which without a doubt in your mind, comes from the Weasley twins. The two boys had always infuriated you with their pranks and their never taking anything seriously. Plus, they always went after you with Bludgers whenever your house played them in Quidditch. You knew they only did things to annoy you because they got a kick out of seeing you get so riled up, but you still fell for it every time.

Snape looks at you once last time before turning away. “Good. But enough with the chitchat in my classroom.”

“Yessir,” you respond, quietly.

Finally, Snape lets you begin. You carefully read through the steps, making sure you measure everything perfectly. Cedric watches you, grinning and shaking his head.

“You really are set on making everything perfectly, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Cedric,” you reply, not taking your eyes off of the substance in the cauldron in front of you, “I really am.”

“Oi, Y/L/N,” one of the Weasleys calls from behind you.

You sigh and turn around, raising an eyebrow as you meet the eyes of Fred Weasley. Fred was most certainly the more annoying of the two, in your opinion.

“What do you want, Weasley?”

“No need to be so harsh. I’m just asking what you think yours will smell like, that’s all.” You can’t help but notice the smirk that plays on Fred’s lips.

You narrow your eyes at him before turning back around. “I hate to break your heart, Weasley, but not you. Not in a million years.”

You risk a glance over your shoulder, just to receive a wink from Fred. “We’ll see about that, darling.”

You turn back around, huffing as you do so, before either of the Weasleys can see the blush spreading on your cheeks. You will it to go away before someone else sees either and gets the wrong idea.

Snape comes over to your table, peering into your cauldron.

“Why don’t you tell the class what yours smells like, Miss Y/L/N, since you’ve finished already?” he drawls, looking at you expectantly.

You lean over your cauldron, inhaling deeply as you try to place the scents that are wafting towards you.

“Mm,” you hum, naming the scents you recognize: “Smoke, like from a firework. And... sweets?” You sit back in your seat, now flushing deeply at the fact that your entire class now knows what you’re attracted to. “I-I think,” you add.

You hear the familiar chuckle behind you, and Snape’s head snaps towards the sound.

“Mr. Weasley,” Snape says sternly, “if you think it’s so funny, and considering yours looks like a disaster, why don’t you come smell Miss Y/L/N’s and tell the class what it smells like to you?”

Fred comes up behind you, so you scoot your chair over slightly so he can smell your Amortentia. You watch as he leans over, his hair falling over his face, and you get a whiff of the smokey scent again. You must be sitting too close to the potion still.

He inhales deeply, a confused look twisting his expression, and sniffs it again.

“Well?” Snape asks, impatiently.

Fred straightens up and shrugs. “Y/L/N is sitting too close to me. All I could smell is her perfume.”

The corner of Snape’s mouth quirks up in amusement as he looks between the two of you.

“That’s all I needed to know. Take a seat, Mr. Weasley,” he says, before turning away and walking to the other side of the room.

You look up at Fred, horror sinking in as you realize what Snape meant. You watch your feelings reflected on Fred’s face and the realization sets in for him, too, and he quickly turns away to head back to his seat.

You risk a look over at Cedric, who’s stifling a laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” you hiss at him, blushing again. Fred Weasley, attracted to you? He couldn’t be. All he did was tease you. And plus, there was no way you were attracted to him in return. I mean, what you smelled...

You start thinking about it, and it all makes sense, but in a terrible way. No, no, there had to be someone else who could be associated with those smells. Right?

Class ends, and you’re still deep in your thoughts as you gather your books. You have a free period next, so you’re probably just going to go hang out with Cedric at the library, like the two of you normally do. But as you’re leaving the classroom, your head lowered, you feel a hand on your back.

You look up in surprise, only to be face to face with Fred Weasley himself.

“What?”

He sighs at you. “Can I just talk to you? Without you hating my guts for five minutes?”

You blanch, guilt settling in at your harsh reaction, so you merely nod and let Fred lead the way down the halls, until you finally find an empty corridor. You both stop, standing somewhat defensively, in the middle of the hallway.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this,” Fred begins, “or, actually, ever find out, but here we are.”

The boy standing in front of you isn’t the annoying, constantly teasing and joking boy you’ve known for years, and it shocks you. He looks at you sheepishly, waiting for your response. But, honestly, you’re speechless. You’d spent so much time over the years simply looking at the things that irritated you about Fred that you never looked at the good things. For example, you had to admit that he was very good at Quidditch, despite the many times he nearly sent you to the Hospital Wing. And looking up at him now, you can't help notice that he is quite good looking. You’ve never been into gingers, but...

“Find out that you fancy me, you mean?” you ask, cocking your head.

When Fred doesn’t answer right away, you continue: “Why?”

He shrugs, his gaze locked on you, and you see the corner of his mouth beginning to twitch. You knew he couldn’t be serious for long. Oh, no, maybe this is all a joke. Maybe he didn’t actually smell your perfume, and maybe he just said that to mess with you, and-

“Oh, Merlin,” you say, breathily, cutting Fred off before he can even begin to answer your question. You’re so stupid, of course it was a joke. After all, it’s Fred Weasley you’re talking about. And to think, you were actually considering your feelings for him.

“This is all a joke, isn’t it?” you scoff, backing up. You watch as Fred’s face contorts, several different expressions passing over it in a matter of seconds. He steps towards you.

“No, Y/N-“ You can’t help but notice, through your embarrassment and anger, that this is the first time he’s called you by your first name.

“Y/N,” he continues, “it’s not, I-“

You step back once more, fuming, your back hitting the wall of the corridor.

“And how am I supposed to believe that, Fred, when that’s all everything is to you? Right? Oh, except for Quidditch, when you’re trying to kill me!”

Fred’s hand, palm splayed, lands on the brick wall next to your head, making you flinch. He leans close, frustration, heat, and that smokey smell radiating off of him. You look up at him, your heart pounding out of your chest and your breath catching in your throat.

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice low and husky.

“What, Fred?” you respond when he doesn’t continue, your voice sounding shaky and far-away.

“If you’d just let me talk,” he says, slowly and quietly, making your stomach flip, “instead of being the know-it-all that you are all the bloody time-”

“Then what?” you cut him off, but you just can’t help it, not with all the feelings boiling inside of you. You’re angry and hurt and irritated and just a little turned on and- “Then you could laugh at me and tell me you lied about the Amorentia just to see how I’d react because mine smelled like you and you wanted to humiliate me?”

“Do you ever just stop talking?”

“Listen, you git-”

You’re cut off by Fred’s lips on yours. You fall into the kiss for just a second, taking in the softness of his lips, his smell, his body closing in on yours, and oh, Merlin, the passion and anger behind it, but once you process what’s going on, you put your hands on his chest and push him back, but not too far.

“Fred,” you say, at a loss for words between heavy breaths, because bloody hell, he’s a good kisser.

“Are you going to let me talk now?” he says, stepping back from you, much to your dismay. His eyes are dark, and as you watch him look you up and down briefly, you know it’s over for you. You have to give in. He’s just too damn addicting.

“No, I’m not.” you say, “Kiss me.”

That dastardly smirk appears on his lips as he steps back towards you, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours again. Next thing you know, his hands are gripping behind your thighs and he’s lifting you, pressing your back against the wall as you wrap your legs around his waist and grab two fistfuls of his hair. The two of you meet each other’s hungry and ferocity, but it’s constantly increasing, as if you just want to one-up each other about who wants the other more. He bites your lip, hard, and you gasp, both from the pain and the pleasure.

“I knew it!”

Fred practically drops you as you both process the voice coming from down the corridor. You scramble to your feet, adjusting your skirt and hair as nonchalantly as possible, turning towards the source.

George Weasley and Cedric stand, staring at you and Fred with amusement. Well, George looks amused, while Cedric looks mostly concerned. You know you’ll have a lot of explaining to do later.

“I- we- it wasn’t-”

Fred picks up his books and begins walking down the hall towards his twin. But not before he turns around and gives you yet another once-over, winking at you with that smirk.

“See you next period, Y/L/N.”

[ironmandeficiency]

slow hand

pairing: jack daniels / reader

word count: 1624

summary: after another failed date, your coworker takes it upon himself to show you how you should be treated.

a/n: my first ever commissioned fic! the prompt was “slow dancing with jack” from the darling @writeforfandoms 💕 i hope you enjoy!! (side note, the reader’s moniker is “moscow mule”, affectionately referred to as “mule”

✨buy me a ko-fi✨

jack can tell by the tension in your shoulders and the exhaustion in your eyes that your previous night didn’t go as planned. it was supposed to be a pleasant night out filled with dancing and good food, smiles and close touches. the evening should have ended with one of you going to the other’s place and seeing where the night went from there. you had said as much when he asked you what your plans were over lunch in his office the afternoon before, but the waves of dejection rolling off you sang a different tune.

the first flaw in that plan showed itself when your date was over an hour late picking you up. a lame excuse or two slipped from his lips but you ignored them, favoring to just pretend like the night didn’t begin on a sour note and cross your fingers for the rest of the evening to go smoother.

you could have crossed every finger and toe and your eyes till they stuck, but that evening was one concocted by the devil himself to ruin your positive attitude. when you finally got to the club, everything was just off. your date kept getting distracted by other patrons (or rather, the asses of other patrons) and when he went to the bar to retrieve drinks, he didn’t come back for twenty minutes. even in some of the more densely packed clubs, it wouldn’t take twenty minutes to get two drinks.

by the time your date returned, you were tired and not in the slightest mood to dance. you just drank the free alcohol in a brooding silence. he had the audacity to ask why you were feeling down and it took a mighty amount of willpower to not wrap your hands around his throat and shake it as violently as possible. champ would’ve been mighty proud of the self-restraint you held, that’s for sure.

it was harder than you thought to genuinely have a good time after all you had endured that evening and it was infuriating. just looking at his face reminded you why you were so frustrated. no one deserved to deal with this, you reasoned, so you made an excuse of using the bathroom then slipped away.

originally the plan was to cool down in the bathroom then try again, but when you exited the bathroom and saw him chatting up some redhead at the bar, your resolve left with your patience. with your head high and frustration building, you strode out of the bar, calling a lyft to get you home. the rest of your evening was spent with netflix and junk food on your bed, wondering why you didn’t just do this in the first place. yeah you woke up with a crick in your neck and a half eaten family size bag of chips next to you in bed, but you were content.

armed with a soft smile and your favorite drink, jack made his way to your office. he sat the cup down in front of you and made himself comfortable on the chaise he’s all but claimed as his own, sipping on his own coffee. when you raised an eyebrow at the unprompted kindness, he just shrugged. “just thought you could use a pick-me-up. what happened last night to get you so blue?”

you groaned at his question. “better question is, what didn’t happen last night?” his posture suddenly changed from relaxed to intrigued, elbows propped on his knees and his favorite mug (it was shaped like a cowboy hat) held with both hands as he sat with rapt attention. the previous night was recounted to your friend with not a single detail withheld, including the bag of chips that shared the bed with you.

his attention never left you once and when you finished regaling your tale of woe, he took a contemplative sip from his mug before setting it on the end table next to him. “if you’d’a just called me, mule, i’d have come and got you. no sense paying for a ride home when you’ve got people willin’ to help ya.”

the kindness of this man never ceases to amaze you. ever since you’ve been an agent, jack has oozed southern chivalry and always had a charming smile to send your way, even after the toughest missions. any and all doors were opened for you, he would bring you your favorite drinks if he noticed you were in the dumps (like today); he was the epitome of a southern gentleman.

you give him a smile and shake your head. “i wouldn’t have bothered you so late, jack. i’m just bummed that i didn’t get to dance like i wanted to.”

“well darlin’,” he stands and pulls his phone out of his pocket, flipping through it for a moment before setting his phone down on your desk. he was in front of you now, a hand extended to you as an invitation. it wasn’t until music came from his phone that you realized he had a plan. “may i have this dance?”

alright this is it, you’ve officially ascended.

you place your hand in his with an exaggerated flourish, letting him guide you to the center of your office. the lyrics are recognized immediately from times jack had control over the music en route to and from missions and the blood rushes to your cheeks. “to conway? of course.”

when the lyrics start, you’re immediately grinning at the ease jack softly sings along with; not enough to overpower conway twitty’s voice but plenty enough to make sure you know he’s singing along.

this felt totally different than every other time you’ve danced with jack. there have been missions where you were “spouses” at galas or “dates” to clubs owned by cartel heads, and he always cut every rug he stepped foot on. but none of those days had the same intimacy that you felt with him in this moment. he sang along and held you with intent, his eyes smoother than molasses as they gazed into yours.

you want a man with a slow hand

you want a lover with an easy touch

you want somebody who will spend some time

not come and go in a heated rush

baby, believe me i understand

when it comes to love you want a slow hand

jack didn’t know just how right he was in that assumption. you always feel safe around jack during work, he always has your back on missions and is nothing but a (sometimes cocky) gentleman after hours, but this? this was the kind of safe that made you want to curl up with him and hide from the world, the kind where the only thing you wanted to worry about was if he was going to continue holding you like this.

the song ended, but neither of you paid any mind. jack simply kept on holding you, humming a simple melody as he kept you in his arms as long as he could. you didn’t dare speak and interrupt him, lest he snap out of whatever trance he’s under. this was too good an opportunity to pass up.

it’s peaceful in his arms. if you weren’t so hyper focused on the reality of dancing with him, you could have dozed off with the scent of clean aftershave and leather pillowing you. you don’t even notice that your head fell to his shoulder until he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. his mustache is a gentle scraping sensation, lips warm and gentle giving you such tender affection liable for nearly putting you through the floor.

“was this the dance you wanted, sugar?” he’s never spoken so quietly in all the time you’ve known him. the bold and brash verbosity has been shed, the snakeskin of confidence molting away to reveal new and raw skin. this is jack, stripped of the bravado that comes with being the cowboy he is and all but kneeling at your feet.

you bring a hand from behind his neck to cup his cheek. the way he leans into your hand sends your heart racing, still unused to the gentleness he’s showing. “this is everything i wanted. thank you, jack.” you watch the way his lips twitch into a wide grin at your sincerity, feeling your lips mirroring his.

“JOSÉ CUERVO, YOU ARE A FRIEND OF MINE! I LIKE TO—“

“son of a bitch!” of all the times for your office phone to ring, it just had to be now. you feel jack’s quiet chuckle before you hear it. whether he’s laughing at the ringtone ginger added (it was an inside joke, don’t ask) or your frustration, you don’t know. you don’t want to answer and plan on letting it ring, despite the way it totally obliterated the atmosphere. but jack, ever the pleasantly chaotic man he is, decided that the phone would not go unanswered. so, without letting go of you, he scooched you both back towards your desk until he picks up the phone, his bravado flipped back on with the ease of a lightswitch.

“mule’s office, whiskey speaking… yes ma’am, i’ll get right on that… always my pleasure, bye-bye.” he rested your phone back in its nest and turned to you with a smile. “your secretary just called sugar, said we have a mission to get ready for.”

you groan and slump into his arms. “now that don’t mean we can’t dance more later,” he reassures you with a quick peck on your cheek. “i mean, we’ve got the jet to ourselves and you have that spotty thingy you rattle on about.”

“you mean spotify?”

“prezactly.”

“... did you just combine ‘precisely’ and ‘exactly’?”

“you catch on quick, darlin’.”

whiskey taglist: @catsnkooks @obirain @themarcusmoreno @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @captainrexstan @darthadeline @majorshiraharu​ @getdookuedon @max--phillips @andysficrecs @darklingveracruz

[iwadori]

Hiiii can i request prompt 53 with tsukki? My annoying cousin u may know @chibiiichan(i cant tag her its a surprise) recommend ur account and well she never been right more than now I LIKE UR ACC TOO URM JUST TAG HER IN THE POST (bcs its actually her birthday next week monday so....the least i could do this bcs she likes tsukki and shes recently talk abt the iwazumi story of yours....lmao shes cringe but in the same time got mad n i was besides her hearing her whining like bruh 'its 1 am'...i know i should buy something for her but she got spoiled enough 💅...that mf-) thank you ✨

‘ALWAYS AND FOREVER’

TSUKISHIMA X READER

2K WORDS

GENRE: ANGST,FLUFF

TW: SLIGHT AMBIGIOUS MENTION OF SUICIDE/ASSISTED DEATH, AND DEATH, CURSING (IN MY A/N)

THIS IS FOR @chibiiichann Happy birthday, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS (BECAUSE I HATE IT :D ) SOOOOO YEAH I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR BIRTHDAY.

NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL. EXPECT SLIGHT MISTAKES

You were dying. You knew it. Your husband, Kei, knew it. Even friends you haven’t spoken too since high school knew it.

So why did you all pretend that everything was okay?

5 year old Y/N:

You were running around your neighbourhood park chasing after butterflies, without a care in the world. As you were frollicing in the grass, you manage to trip over a rock tumbling to the ground scraping your knee making it bleed. Looking down at your slightly injured knee, your lip begins to quiver which eventually leads to wails of tears streaming down your face.

“you don’t have to cry you know?” said a slightly quiet voice towering over you. Above you was a boy, quite tall with a fat pair of glasses, golden eyes and a head full of blonde locks.

“Well when I get hurt, I cry” you say matter oh factly (is that the phrase?) rubbing your nose as you sniffle. He held out a hand to you, which you immediately took shooting upwards and brushing yourself off.  

The boy, after looking at you wildly, turns around and walks back to the actual park. “Oi wait,” you call at the boy swiftly following him “aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“no.” he says simply, proceeding to walk ahead.

“well my names Y/N L/N pleasure to meet you,” you say jumping in front of him so he doesn’t move, waiting for him to tell you his name...which he doesn’t. “you don’t have to be so rude you know”  

“I’m not being rude” he says stiffly “ it’s just my brother says not to speak to strangers” a smirk appears on his face to say ‘you can leave me alone now.’  

As if on cue, his brother approaches the both of you given the boy a slap on the back making him cringe “Hey Kei, who’s the friend you’ve made here?”  

“My name is Y/N L/N and I'm here to be KEI’s best friend!” you said putting the emphasis on the word Kei after just learning that was the blondes name.  

Kei rolled his eyes and sighed saying “nii-chan can we go home now” he folded his arms in annoyance.

“No Kei, you’ve got to get to know your new found friend Y/N-Chan right?” his brother said teasingly, knowing it was the last thing Kei wanted to do.

“Yes ofcourse!” you say with a toothy grin, dragging Kei along with you to his demise.

Until the sun went down, you spent the rest of your time with Kei getting to know eachother (well him getting to know you more, since you did all the speaking.) Regardless of his previous annoyance in getting to know you in the first place, Kei would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know you now.

As the sun was setting, Kei’s older brother (who’s name you learned was Akiteru) called him to tell him he had to go home because dinner was ready. Before he left, you grabbed his hand and wrapped your pinky finger around his saying “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

back to present -  

In some odd way, this was Kei’s way of looking out for you. He knew what you had was uncurable and would weaken you even more as the days go by, so pretending like nothing was wrong seemed to be best in his eyes.  

Everything you and Kei did was a game or some nostalgic act that you once did when you were children. It was sweet to say the least, seeing Kei all engrossed and determined to make you happy.  

Your alarm rings snapping you out of you daydream, ‘it was time for medicine’ you thought with your face scowling at the thought. Immediately on time, as always, Kei comes In the room with all your medicine thats needed.

“Aren’t you my perfect little nurse Kei” you say teasingly giving him a wink, laughing as you see his face turn red.

“Do you have to do this every time y/n?” he asks rolling his eyes at your childish behaviour.

“Oh I'm just showing love to my best and favourite nurse” you continue laughing at your own words

“Im your only ‘nurse’” he deadpans giving you your medicine as you talk.

“Well that is more reason to make you the best nurse.” you say smiling.

Silence falls between you, and you stare down at your arm watching as your husband gives you the medicine making you frown. “Do we have to keep doing this?” you ask which is probably the 1000th time you’ve asked.

“Of course we do Y/N as I’ve said yesterday and the day before that and the day before that it-”

“But do we really?” you interrupt “I can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you doubt me Y/N, I can do this forever” he says “ I can take care of you forever”

“But I don’t wan-”

“I’m finished, I’m going to start on dinner” he gets up and leaves the room yelling “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Sometimes you and Kei have these conversations. And all the time it ends the same way. You complain, he ignores and then you go and have dinner.

You can understand why he doesn’t want to have this conversation. Who would want to hear about their partners complaints about practically being alive. Kei was torn, ever since he met you all he wanted to was to keep you happy. But could he compromise his own happiness for it.

15 year old Y/N - flashback

“Kei Kei, aren’t you excited!” you yell smiling widley

“Excited for what?” he asks, amused by your enthusiasm “it’s just highschool.”

“Well it’s a new highschool! Karasuno high school, to be exact.”

“And that is still just a school.” he says

“Not just any! That’s the school nii-chan went too, and even tho he lie-”

“Let’s not talk about it Y/N” he murmurs “we should go now, don’t want to be late on our first date.”

Going to Karasuno was fun, at the start everyone was pleasant and nice. But after a week or two when you and Kei were still stuck to eachother like glue, people weren’t so pleasant. Kei was like a pop idol, being gorgeous and over 6ft at just the age of 15, caused alot of attention, especially when he was always around you.

At the start, the hate you got was bearable, it was the petty bitchy notes in your locker or just people blatanly talking badly about you infront of you. People didn’t do it when you weren’t around Kei, so when he had volleyball practice (which you were so excited that he joined the team) you were a big target for the bullies to come around.

Kei didn’t really know of the bullying that happened towards you, especially since he was mainly in practice or not around when it happened. But one day in practice he heard some of his teammates, kageyama and hinata who seemed to talking about a student in one of their classes that was always getting picked on by the other girls in the year.

“Yeah and I heard that Nana-san was planning on getting her and her friends to attack Y/N-san soon.”  said Hinata

“Shrimpy, who are they planning on attacking?” Kei asks to make sure he just heard the ginger correctly.

“Oh this lovely person in our class their name is Y/N-san” he says, looking at Kei’s reaction he also asks “Why? Do you know them?”  

Kei doesn’t respond, and immediately leaves the gym, ignoring Hinata’s and the other members of the teams yells of ‘Where are you going tsukishima.’ He didn’t care, he just had to get to you.  

He searched all the classes, asking every student if he knew where you were. Someone directs him to the toilets, where he burst through the door to see the other girls in your year surrounding you and beating you up.  

“What the fuck are you doing to them?” he yells startling the girls.

“T-T-Tsukishima-san" one girl says “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh fuck off” he says, with them still frozen in shock “I said go!”  

“And don’t think I don’t know your names either” he calls after them.

He rushes towards your bruised body on the ground and cradles you gently, confused on what to really do. “Oi Kei,” you say weakly catching his attention “I would’ve won if you didn’t come to stop the fight.” you joke making him scoff.

“Whatever you say Y/N.”

After you heal up, Kei already told on the girls that beat you up getting them suspended, and you explain how they were treating you because of their infatuation of him. And how they only did it when he wasn’t around.

Once he learns this information, he decides to quite the volleyball team, to your surprise. But you demands on making him not quit were ignored, as he excused it by saying “I have to make sure you’re always alright remember, and if that means quitting some volleyball team then so be it.”

That was one out of the many times that Kei put his happiness before yours.

Flashback over.

When you first got diagnosed, Kei was immediately researching on it as it was a very rare condition. But sadly, he only found what the doctor already told you both. It was uncurable and your immune system and your body will weaken as the days go by.

Which it did, you were a shell of your past self. It was always shocking for Kei to see, especially with you only being 25. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be this way,’ but he never let you see his sadness.

Whenever you knew Kei was sad you always reminded him “Kei, I may be dying but please don’t cry over me” every time you said, there was a slight undertone of humour in your voice which always worked in boosting Kei’s spirit.

AN: IVE GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I HATE THIS SOOO IM SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR THE SHITTING RUSHED ENDING IM GOING TO PROVIDE FOR YOU LOL.

The days passed and the years went by, and you and Kei were still alive and kicking it. Doing your daily routine of you making some joke, Kei giving you your medicine and then you eating dinner. You eventually stopped complaining, realizing and remembering your promise you gave to Kei at 5 years old in that park. “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

Of course you had your rough days, everybody did and it was even harder being sick with a terminal illness. But having Kei to guide you through the storm made It better for you.

However, Kei isnt a miracle worker. He couldn’t save you, noone could. And you both knew that. That didn’t mean it made it any easier when the medicine stopped working and your pain got too hard to bear. Kei couldn’t watch you do this anymore, “the choice is yours” he said with tears in his eyes.  

So you knew what you had to do, you got in your bed pulling Kei with you, and letting him envelope you in a big hug as you both cried.

“I love you,” you say “You know that right?”

“Of course I know that, idiot” he replies “And I love you.”

“Always and forever?”

“Always and forever.”

AN: how did I END UP CRYING WHILST WRITING THIS WHEN IT MADE NO FUCKING SENSE, I WAS TRYING TO DO THIS COOL NOTEBOOK (I HAVENT EVEN WATCHED THE NOTEBOOK) ENDING WHERE ITS AMBIGIOUS AND SHIT AND I JUST GIVE UP OKAY? I APOLOGISE LOOOOOOL. I HOPE YOU ENJOY ATLEAST A SENTENCE OF THIS AT LEAST.

[prettyboybarzal]

Falling For You

Pairing: Jake DeBrusk x female!OC

Summary: Sutton Beckett is settling for an unhappy relationship, but a chance encounter with Jake changes everything. 

Word Count: 18k+

A/N: Happy birthday, JD! Here’s the fic I’ve been working on since the beginning of quarantine. It’s been fun for me to write in my free time. It’s mostly a friends to lovers story, but very much a slow burn. SLOW. BURN. (Title inspired by Fallingforyou by The 1975)

Warnings: Smut, alcohol consumption, shitty boyfriend (not Jake)

Masterlist

January 20th, 2019

Sutton Beckett was pouting into a Long Island Iced Tea in the middle of a club in Boston. Despite being surrounded by her two best friends and a sea of beautiful, smiling people, she couldn’t find it in herself to crack so much as a smirk.

“Stop moping,” her roommate, Kate, demanded. Sutton lifted her chin and caught the glare she was sending her. “You’re no fun when you’re fighting with Garrett.”

“So, she’s no fun all the time?” their other roommate, Mia, asked with a sarcastic laugh.

“I’m fun!”

“Yeah, when you’re not fixated on every little detail of every little fight you have with him.”

Sutton almost opened her mouth to argue that her roommates were wrong, but she was tired of fighting it. They were completely right. Her relationship of two years was draining her energy completely.

When she first met him, their relationship felt like a dream. He was older, so he had a well-paying job and she reaped the benefits of those paychecks. He brought her to five-star restaurants and surprised her with gifts just because. He talked about the future and his plans to buy them a house on the Cape. She loved him, she saw that future with him, but as time had gone on the vision was getting dimmer.

After they hit a year and a half, a switch flipped.

When Garrett stopped caring, she blamed it on his work, but months passed and she needed something new to blame it on. His parents’ divorce, his sister’s Bridezilla wedding planning, even the death of his childhood dog. But she knew, and her friends knew, the relationship was a disaster and her excuses weren’t good enough.

“What was the fight about tonight?”

“He didn’t like what she was wearing,” Kate answered the question before Sutton could even open her mouth. Sutton opened her mouth, no doubt to come to Garrett’s defense, but Kate warned her, “Don’t defend him.”

“I’m going to grab another drink.”

Sutton found an open space at the bar and gunned for it. But, just as she stepped into the space, someone else did the same and she nearly crashed right into the broad chest of a random man. He stopped short just before she collided into him. When she looked up at him, he spoke but the music was too loud to hear. So, he leaned down to speak into her ear.

“You can order first,” he spoke, nodding towards the bar. “I’ll wait my turn.”

The boy stood at least two steps behind her as she leaned against the bar and stood on her tippy toes to get the bartender’s attention. She was shorter than almost everyone standing at the counter and kept getting ignored as a result, so he finally took matters into his own hands and waved the bartender down.

She spotted him and made a beeline to their side of the bar, though she looked directly past Sutton and up to him.

“I’ll have a ginger whiskey,” he spoke. He extended his hand with his card right over Sutton’s shoulder. “And whatever she’s having you can put on my card, too.”

Sutton almost protested, but the moment she turned to do so, he simply shook his head and she snapped her mouth shut. She placed her order, despite herself, and turned back to the boy as the bartender went to grab the drinks.

“I have a boyfriend,” she told him. He choked on his laughter, but said nothing more as he leaned over her to grab their drinks from the counter of the bar. He handed her glass to her as she continued rambling. “I wasn’t sure if you were, like, flirting with me and I didn’t want to take advantage of you if you were.”

“I was totally flirting with you,” he admitted. Sutton’s eyebrows shot up at his honesty. “But, hey, no problem. We can just be friends, yeah?”

She eyed him skeptically because, honestly, no guys just wanted to be friends. But the smile on his face made it hard for her to believe that he had any bad intentions. He just looked kinder than most guys—soft eyes, kind smile, brown hair that was a little long and tousled like he couldn’t have been bothered to groom it himself.

“Sure, we can be friends,” she told him with a smile that mirrored his own. “What’s your name?”

“Jake,” he introduced himself as he extended his hand.

“I’m Sutton,” she responded, dropping her hand in his. His fingers, rough against her much softer and more delicate skin, curled around her hand and gave her a firm shake.

“I love your outfit,” he said, leaning back to admire the lace body suit she paired with black skinny jeans. Her hand remained in his grasp as she threw her head back with a laugh. How beautifully ironic this interaction was.

“Thank you,” she responded, shaking her head at him in amusement as they dropped each other’s hands. “Guys never compliment girls on what they wear, so thank you for being a breath of fresh air.”

“Not even what’s-his-name?”

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend.”

She laughed again before offering his name.

“Garrett.”

“Garrett,” he scoffed. He knew he was probably treading on thin ice, but he also noticed how easily the laughter was falling from her lips, so he continued. “Garrett doesn’t compliment you?”

“Not tonight,” she said, gazing down at the glass in her hands. She didn’t mean for it to come out sounding that sad, and yet. “No.”

Jake frowned as he watched her close in on herself. The laughter was gone and her eyes had gone dark and the smile on her lips was upside down, so he asked, “Do you want to dance?”

And, because the five minutes she’d been around him made her smile harder than the past six months with Garrett, she decided to say, “I’d love to.”

In the middle of the dancefloor, he spun her into his chest. His free hand fell to her hips as her arms curled around his neck to rest her elbows on his shoulders. She giggled softly again before curling her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck.

It started out innocent enough, but as the music changed so did the air between them. It wasn’t long before her back was pressed against his chest, glasses forgotten on a table a few steps away from them. His hands danced along her sides and wrapped around her waist to pull her close. 

He liked the way she laughed and the way she felt against him and he noticed that she would lull her head to the side when he leaned down to whisper in her ear. His breath tickled her neck and she reacted immediately and it turned him on. He wanted to touch her bare skin, he wanted to kiss her neck, and he wondered if he could press his luck. He reached up, brushed her hair behind her, and leaned in to place a chaste kiss against her neck.

Nothing more happened, though they danced through another few songs before he was dragged away from her to rejoin his friends. He practically begged for her phone and left his number under a contact name of Jane (“Just in case Gary sees,” he explained. “Garrett,” she corrected him.)

When she returned home that night, she jumped in the shower immediately, earning confused looks from her roommates. She told them that she just felt gross when she really just needed to wash him off her skin.

---

February 12th, 2019

“Garrett, wonderful to see you.”

“Likewise.”

Sutton laughed to herself at the sarcastic formalities exchanged between her boyfriend and Mia. It had been a few weeks since her night out with the girls and, even though Sutton and Garrett hadn’t fought since, Mia still couldn’t stand seeing him in their apartment.

“Where’s my girl?”

“Bedroom.”

Sutton heard him approaching and pulled the door open. When he stepped in, he held up a jersey and waved it in her direction.

“You can wear my Pasta jersey tonight,” he spoke. “He’s one of our best players.”

She reached out and took it from his hand, but he didn’t release it. Instead, he leaned in and puckered his lips for a kiss. She complied after mentally rolling her eyes at him. He let go of the jersey, and she slipped it on over a long sleeve shirt. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, baby,” he answered, stepping up behind her as she check herself out in the mirror. He wound his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. “This is such a great gift.”

“I’m glad,” she said softly, thinking about all the money she’d spent on it. He better have liked it, if not only for the dent it left in her wallet.

They made it to their seats five minutes before puck drop. He spent most of their ride to the Garden talking her ear off about the team and the season they’d been having, but Sutton never cared much for sports so most of it was in one ear and out the other.

It wasn’t until the team came out for the beginning of the game that Sutton’s worlds collided. Above her head on the massive Jumbotron, Jake was smiling down at her. She gasped, hand jolting in surprise just enough to spill some beer on Garrett’s jeans.

“Sutton, what the hell?” he grunted, wiping the liquid off his leg. She muttered an apology, but her eyes were already searching the ice for the boy she’d been considering a missed connection. He stood at center ice, shuffling on his skates as the anthem played. And his number? 74. Just like the jersey Garrett was wearing.

She was flustered in the very worst way. It felt like she was barely functioning, unable to carry a conversation with Garrett because her mind was so clearly on Jake. It was made even worse whenever she caught a glimpse of his last name branded across Garrett’s back. She felt a little bit sick, and a little bit guilty, even though she didn’t really have a reason to be.

On the way back to her apartment, Garrett chattered on about the game while she stared down at her phone in her lap. It felt heavier now that she’d been reminded of the number in her phone.

He walked her up to her apartment, though she kind of hoped he’d just stay in the car, and waited for her to change out of his jersey before going. Kate began to chat with him, and Sutton made a mental note to thank her later for at least being polite.

“What are you guys going to do for Valentines?”

“Well, we just had an early Valentines’ date tonight,” he said. Sutton reentered the room at that moment, wishing she had stayed in her bedroom for a moment longer so she didn’t have to hear that. “Did you have fun, baby?”

She nodded because she genuinely thought if she opened her mouth that she would cry.

“Oh!” Kate responded. Her face was white, eyes shifting uncomfortably between her best friend and the guy who’d just crushed her spirit. “No dinner on the day of?”

Garrett offered the girls a performative pouted, dropping an arm over Sutton’s shoulders, as he responded, “I tried to get reservations at Sutton’s favorite spot, but they’re all booked up.”

“When did you try to do that?” Kate asked, eyebrows raised in shock.

“I called last weekend.”

“Garrett, it’s Valentines’ Day,” Mia grunted as she entered the room. He glared at her. “You can’t just call the weekend before and get a table. You should’ve planned in advance.”

“Oh, no,” Sutton spoke up, suddenly finding her voice as she waved off their concerns. “It’s really not a big deal. We’ve been together for so long, you know? We’ve celebrated way too many things. Besides, Valentines’ is just a money maker, right?”

“You crack me up,” he murmured. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Sutton’s lips. “Listen, babe, I have to run. Early morning tomorrow. I’ll call you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Kate and Mia waited until they heard the elevator doors close before launching into a dramatic monologue about how much they hated him, how Sutton deserved better. Sutton, on the other hand, made herself a grilled cheese while they ranted at her and tried to tune them out.

When she was in bed later that night, she couldn’t find it in her to turn on the television or read the book she’d bought earlier that afternoon. Instead, she stared blankly at the wall in front of her and let her brain run a mile a minute.

Finally, after about thirty minutes, she grabbed her phone and pulled up Jake’s contact. She laughed at the contact photo, a goofy selfie he’d taken of himself just before leaving her that night.

When were you going to tell me you were a professional hockey player?

She deleted it and retyped it about five times before just hitting send and hoping for the best.

Across the city, Jake was slipping into his apartment and nearly dropped the food he grabbed on the way home when he saw her name flash across the screen. He smiled when he read her message and settled down at the kitchen table to respond before eating.

Right now, I guess

Bubbles popped up on his screen immediately as she typed out a message of her own. He locked his phone, then unlocked it, watching the bubbles intently as if urging her to type faster.

I was at the game tonight… My boyfriend wore your jersey.

Jake licked his bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth to suppress the cocky grin that was finding its way to his lips.

What did you wear?

Sutton laughed at the undertone of the message, but before she could respond he’d already sent another.

I don’t mean it like you think I do. Get your mind out of the gutter.

Her response: I wore a Pastrnak jersey… And my mind isn’t in the gutter

Well, why don’t you just rip my heart out, Sutton???

The next morning, she woke up to a follow request from him and the realization that a simple shower wasn’t going to make him go away.

---

February 14th, 2019

In the two days since Garrett dropped the bomb about the lack of Valentines’ plans, Sutton had come to terms with it. It was okay that they weren’t going out to some fancy dinner surrounded by happy couples or desperate singles… As long as he did something to make up for it.

Quite honestly, she wasn’t asking for much.

Flowers would be great, she thought. But, at this point, she would settle for a heartfelt card (or, hell, even a text).

She woke up to a coffee, still hot, waiting for her on the counter with a sweet Post-It note from Kate. Mia even snuck freshly baked cookies into the girls’ lunches. Sutton would be making dinner in their apartment that night as her contribution to their Valentines’ Day plans. At the end of the day, she knew she’d be thankful she spent the night with her girls instead of Garrett.

Maybe that was a problem.

There were no flowers waiting for her when she got to work, and still none by lunchtime. She checked with the office’s receptionist three times that day, wondering if she’d missed a call or something like that. But she hadn’t.

It was around 4 p.m., two hours until the end of her work day, when she heard the mail cart rolling down the hallway.

“Special delivery for Miss Beckett!”

Sutton’s heart fluttered. She practically danced out to the hallway from her desk. The cute elderly man who delivered the mail was standing just beyond the threshold with a black box wrapped in a beautiful white bow.

“Thank you, Earl.”

“Enjoy, beautiful,” he said. “He better treat you right or someone else might come and snatch you up.”

Sutton laughed politely as she walked back to her desk. She placed the box down and squealed excitedly as she pulled the ribbon apart. She took the top off, pulled back the tissue paper, and revealed a Bruins t-shirt with a note that read: You’d look better in #74 than your boyfriend

+

While Kate and Mia set the dinner table that night, Sutton found herself preoccupied with dinner and Jake DeBrusk, once again. She’d been thinking about his gift all day.

Since she texted him the other night, they’d been Snapchatting a little bit. It was never anything of substance, just photos of his sneakers or skates and her coffees. They hadn’t exchanged any message since earlier that morning, and certainly not after the arrival of his gift, but she knew she’d have to thank him eventually. It made her nervous to think about. She typed out a dozen of texts, but kept talking herself out of it and deleting them. She was so far in her head that she couldn’t figure out how to deal with the situation.

She figured that she should’ve been more upset with him. Sending her a gift on Valentines’ Day when he knew she had boyfriend was clearly crossing a line and she knew she needed to stop him before he took it too far. But, she couldn’t help but ask herself if she even wanted to.

Against her better judgement, Sutton decided she needed to ask for help from the girls. So, as she placed the entrée down on their dining table, she announced, “I need to talk to you guys. And I need you to not be crazies, or jump to conclusions, or anything like that.”

“If it’s about Garrett, I’m liable to be a little crazy.”

“It’s not about him,” she said. “Well, it kind of is. Indirectly, at least.”

“Spit it out, Sutton.”

“Remember when we went out after Garrett and I fought at the end of last month?” she asked. The girls nodded, already digging into the food on their plate despite Sutton being too nervous to put anything on her own. Kate noticed and began shoveling food onto her plate for her, pushing it towards her after it was full. “I met a guy.”

“Excuse me?” Mia blurted out. “What do you mean you met a guy?”

“His name was Jake,” she continued. The girls nodded along, hanging onto every word that Sutton said while she went through the details of the night she met him, and the night she saw him again. They both had smiles on their faces, giggling at the way Sutton relayed their texts from two nights prior.

Kate couldn’t believe she had been talking to a player on the Bruins. Mia was just happy she was talking to someone other than Garrett.

“He sent me one of those t-shirt jerseys,” she said. “Today.”

“Today?!”

“Yeah, and he left a note that said ‘you’d look better in #74 than your boyfriend’.”

The girls swooned.

“I love him!” Mia announced. Kate nodded in agreement. “You have to call him and say thank you.”

“Call him?”

“Absolutely!”

“I feel guilty,” she admitted. “I should probably let him down easy, right? I have a boyfriend, and he knows that. He shouldn’t have sent me that gift… Let alone on Valentines’ Day!”

As expected, her roommates groaned or eye rolled or reacted in whatever frustrated way they wanted to.

“We’ll clean up after dinner if you call him.”

+

Jake declined her call, and then FaceTimed her back. She threw the phone onto her bed, far away from her, at the sight of herself and grabbed an elastic from her dresser to tame the frizzy locks on her head.

“What kind of psychopath FaceTimes someone they hardly know?!” Sutton screamed to her roommates. She heard them laughing in the living room. “And without warning!”

“Answer him!” Mia yelled. “I hate the sound of your ringtone!”

Sutton huffed out in frustration and plopped onto her bed, checking once more to see if she looked okay. She pressed her thumb over the front camera and answered.

Jake was grinning when he popped up, but then he frowned comically.

“I FaceTimed you for a reason.”

“And I voice called you for a reason.”

Sutton watched as Jake threw his head back with a laugh and smiled despite herself. He was in a hotel bed, at least that’s what it looked like, and he was laying on his side, propped up on his elbow. He stared at the black screen on his end of the call and sighed.

“Sutton, show yourself.”

She rolled her eyes, but did as she was told and pulled her thumb off the camera. Before he could say anything, she asked, “How did you know where I work?”

“You put the building on your Instagram story yesterday,” he answered. “And the company is in your Instagram bio. I put two and two together.”

“I really appreciate the gift, Jake, but I have a boyfriend.”

Jake blinked at Sutton, unphased by the statement, before finally saying, “I know that.”

“You really shouldn’t be sending me gifts on Valentines’ Day.”

“It’s Valentines’ Day?” he asked. She honestly couldn’t tell if he was serious or he was just joking around. He laughed softly at her confused expression. “Relax, Sutton. I just wanted to get you the jersey before our game tomorrow night.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he teased. She rolled her eyes. “Was he mad?”

“He didn’t see it.”

“Why? Did you throw it out? Don’t tell me you threw it out. I mean, it’s not a big deal. I could pay for a new one, but I always hoped if anyone was going to get rid of my jersey they would burn it. It’s so much cooler that way.”

Sutton laughed at him, and Jake beamed at the sound. He hadn’t heard it since the night at the club and it was just as pretty as he remembered.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“Shouldn’t you be out right now?” he asked. “It’s only 9 p.m. You look like you’re in bed.”

“That’s because I am in bed.”

“Why?”

“Because I have work tomorrow.”

“What did you do tonight?”

“You ask so many questions.”

“I’m trying to get to know you.”

Although they were a whole country apart from each other, him in a hotel room in California and her in bed in Boston, she felt vulnerable. It was because of the way he was looking at her through the screen, the softness of his voice when he was flirting with her, the not-Valentines’ gift and handwritten note that still sat beside her.

“I made dinner for my roommates and I,” she answered. “It was nice.”

“You and Garrett have roommates?”

“Oh, my God,” Sutton grumbled. He was really going to make her spell it out for him wasn’t she. (And, yes, he fully intended to.) “No. I don’t live with him. I live with my two best friends.”

“Did he not spend Valentines’ with you?”

“No, he did,” she said. Her voice dropped to a mumble. “Two nights ago, at TD Garden with you and thousands of other people.”

“Tell me he got you a better gift than a t-shirt with my last name on it,” Jake pleaded, no longer finding the humor in teasing her about him. Sutton grit her teeth in response, not wanting to tell him the truth but knowing she couldn’t lie. “I am your fucking Valentine.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am by default,” he argued. “And so are your roommates apparently.”

“We celebrated early! Why is that so crazy?”

“Who bought the tickets to the game?” Jake asked. Her silence spoke volumes. “You did, huh?” Sutton nodded. “What kind of asshole doesn’t get his girlfriend a gift on Valentines’ day? What kind of asshole doesn’t even bring her out to dinner?”

“Jake, that’s enough.”

“Did he send you flowers? A card?”

“Jake!” Sutton yelled. He pulled his phone away from his face at the sharpness of her tone. “I don’t want to hear it from you. I already hear it from my roommates. I don’t need to hear it from you. You don’t even know me.”

“Well, I want to.”

There was a pause in conversation, a moment of intense eye contact (if you could even call it that through the phone). Then, Sutton dropped her head back in frustration.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been thinking about you since I first met you.”

“I have a boyfriend, Jake.”

“Sort of.”

“Stop.”

“Okay.”

Sutton let out a frustrated sigh and Jake watched her run her free hand through her hair while her eyes gazed at something across the room. They looked like they were welling up and Jake frowned, the feeling of helplessness washing over him as he realized he didn’t quite know how to make the situation any better.

“You’re going to wear the shirt tomorrow, though, right?” he asked, forcing a grin onto his face. She looked at him and laughed. “Because if you tell me you’re wearing a Pasta jersey again, it will break my heart.”

“Yes, I’ll wear your jersey.”

They spent another thirty minutes on the phone talking about nothing important. Jake was happy to be talking to her for real, not through Snapchats that he had to disguise as snaps he sent to everyone on his contact list. As their time together ended, it was clear neither of them was quite ready to hang up.

“I’ll admit,” she started. Jake’s eyebrows perked up. “I like talking to you, Jake DeBrusk.”

“I knew I’d wear you down at some point.”

“But I have a boyfriend.”

“What did I say at the bar?” he asked. She narrowed her eyes at him, unsure of what he was referring to. The only thing that came to mind from that night was the feeling of his lips against her skin. It was hard to remember everything else. He made her head fuzzy. “We can just be friends.”

---

March 1st, 2019

Sutton’s relationship with Garrett and her friendship with Jake were never supposed to come closer to intersecting than it had on February 12th and there were a few reasons for that.

The first was that Sutton didn’t want to taint the friendship she had with Jake by throwing Garrett into the equation. It just felt too close for comfort. Besides, she knew the two wouldn’t get along. Jake was giggly, happy, full of life. Garrett was serious, grumpy, exhausting. Just because she liked being around them separately did not mean she’d like them together.

The second was that she knew if Garrett found out about their friendship, he would be pissed. There was a reason she shied away from having guy friends. Garrett hated sharing her with other guys, and that included her work husband who was a gay man in his 40s. He was slightly possessive, but she brushed it off as his own insecurities and vowed not to make the relationship more difficult than it needed to be. Just like everything else in life, Sutton catered the relationship to him.

Kate and Mia found humor in the way that Sutton’s life had suddenly become a revolving door. Garrett was there one minute and the second he was gone Jake was showing up at their front door. They started referring to the two parts of Sutton’s life as church and state. Always separate.

She found it easy to keep it that way. Her friendship with Jake was almost completely virtual, save for a happy hour or two. He was busy with hockey, so she didn’t have to worry about him asking her to hang out on the weekends or ever at night. She reserved those for Garrett.

Besides, something about being with another guy after sunset just felt a little scandalous to her and she didn’t need anyone—Jake, Kate and Mia, Garrett, herself—getting the wrong idea.

Nights with Garrett were few and far between. He seemed to be getting busier and busier at work, but Sutton played the part of the doting girlfriend (which really she was) even better. She made him dinner before he went in for night shifts, waited for him to come home from working overtime to give him a massage, made him breakfast before he went out to work again.

Things seemed to be getting better between them, despite his busy schedule. So much so that he met her at work that Friday to bring her to happy hour. He said he wanted to check out a new place downtown, and she went happily because it finally felt right.

Apparently, the opening of this bar was highly anticipated because the place was packed. Unlike Valentines’ Day, Garrett called ahead. Sutton kept the sarcastic comments swirling through her mind to herself and settled into the booth across from him with a sweet smile.

They browsed the menu; Sutton a little longer than Garrett due to her indecisiveness. He gazed around the bar, taking in the atmosphere and then the sight of not one, not two, but a whole group of Boston Bruins.

“Sutton, you’ll never guess who just walked in,” he said in an excited whisper. Sutton gazed up at him from the menu with a smile, then followed his eyes to the door. “Do you know who that is?”

Among a group of men in athletic clothing stood Jake in a Bruins sweatshirt. She spun back to face Garrett and shook her head to give him the illusion that she had no idea who they were even though her heart was about to jump out of her chest.

“Those are some of the Bruins players,” he murmured. “I gotta get a picture with them.”

“Well, why don’t you just let them get drinks and then you can ask for a picture before we leave,” she suggested. The shake of her voice was enough to give her away, if Garrett would only listen.

“That’s Jake DeBrusk,” he continued, eyes still trained on the men across the room. “And Charlie McAvoy.”

“Stop staring, babe,” she said. She took his chin between her fingers and redirected his attention to her. “It’s rude to stare.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, leaning back against his seat. “It’s like if one of those podcasters you liked walked in. I’m star struck.”

Sutton’s heart was pounding in her chest long after Garrett stopped staring at the players that had entered the bar. She knew Jake wouldn’t notice her with her back to him, and since he’d never met Garrett it was impossible that he’d even recognize him. But with Garrett jumping for joy at the opportunity to meet them, she knew she couldn’t avoid him completely.

She spent the entire time trying to figure out how this was going to go down, and even when it came down to it she couldn’t be sure she was making the right decision.

She gathered her things, including her nerves, as Garrett approached Jake. He’d been on the way to the bar when Garrett reached him and the two exchanged polite conversation, smile plastered across Jake’s face as usual.

“Sutton, baby, would you come take a picture for us?”

His smile dropped the moment Sutton locked eyes with him.

“Sure!” she said cheerily, diverting her eyes from his stare. She flitted over to take Garrett’s hand in hers. Jake watched, stomach turning. He was frozen in place. She wasn’t even going to say hello? She wouldn’t meet his eyes or even give him a playful look, a wink even, to acknowledge him behind Garrett’s back.

Jake clenched his jaw and led them back to the table, teeth grinding against each other like they never have before.

“Boys, real quick picture, okay?”

Everything moved so fast. Garrett jumped in with them, Sutton snapped the picture, then stepped away as Garrett praised them on the season they’d been having. She ignored the way Jake was staring at her, tapping away at her phone instead of engaging with him. Like, what else was she supposed to do?

“What’s your name?” Charlie called out. Sutton looked up at him, anxious as all hell that the cat was going to be out of the bag in approximately five seconds. Thankfully, Garrett was talking to one of the other guys they were with and she caught her breath. “You look familiar.”

“Familiar?” she asked with a laugh. Jake watched her carefully. “I don’t think we’ve met before.”

Charlie looked skeptical and then, as he turned to ask Jake if he thought you look familiar too, it clicked.

“Holy shit,” he murmured. And then, as he looked back and forth between the two of them, he also realized the tension. “Holy shit.”

Jake shook his head at Charlie before turning to sit in his chair. Sutton stared at his back, hating every choice she’d made in the minutes before.

“Well, listen, I’ll let you guys get back to it,” Garrett finally said. Sutton redirected her attention to him, hand curling around his forearm as he reached out to her. “Good luck the rest of the way.”

He received words of thanks from the men as they turned back to their food and drinks, and then he was guiding her out of the entrance of the restaurant. Sutton stole one last glance at Jake on the way out and knew that she fucked up.

For the rest of the meal, Jake was quieter than usual because his head was reeling. He was stupid to ever get attached to her. All the time they’d spent talking made him forget that she already had someone at home. Seeing him with her, holding her hand, snapped Jake back to reality. He needed to give himself space.

That’s why when Sutton texted him that night to apologize. (I’m sorry about today! I didn’t really know what I was supposed to do. But thanks for taking a picture with him.)

He left her on read.

---

March 4th, 2019

Nights were meant for Garrett, but Sutton gave herself one pass.

Jake hadn’t answered her texts or Snapchats since happy hour. She knew the way she acted was shitty, but did he expect her to just tell Garrett about him? It seemed like mess of situation that she didn’t want to get into. Three days later, and after numerous attempts to get in contact with him, she had to go full-on stalker mode.

Jake was at practice late that afternoon, so she planned to grab his favorite meal from a local Thai restaurant and drop it at his apartment when he was home later that night. She followed through, feeling confident in herself as she marched towards his apartment with her head held high.

That feeling dissipated almost as soon as the elevator left the ground floor, but she kept it pushing despite the anxiety. At his door, she knocked once, and waited. No response came. She knocked two more times with the same result and decided to give up.

Maybe it was a sign from the universe that she wasn’t supposed to try to fix this. She took this thought in stride, turning to walk away from his door and find shelter in her apartment across the city. And then the elevator opened and Jake stepped out.

They both stopped in their tracks.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to drop this off,” she answered, extending the Styrofoam take-out box to him. He walked toward her with his duffel bag over his shoulder looking tired and sweaty. He took the box from her hand as he passed by her to unlock his door.

He was momentarily stunned into silence. She had texted him and called him a few times since happy hour, but he figured she’d just stop trying eventually. The thought of never seeing her again stung, but he gave himself a lengthy pep talk the day after the Garrett fiasco and then he re-downloaded all his dating apps.

“I’m going to go.”

“Hold up,” he murmured, kicking the door open. “Come inside for a minute.” Her feet remained planted to the carpeted hallway beneath her feet. She glanced at the elevator, then back at him. “Or don’t.”

Jake pushed the door open enough to slip through it with an annoyed huff of air, and then it slammed shut behind him.

She continued down the hall despite the invitation she desperately wanted to take. She reached the elevator and pressed the button to call it up to his floor. The whir of the car started immediately. The doors opened just a minute later, but Sutton was already on the way back to Jake’s front door.

She only knocked once before he was swinging the door open and stepping aside to welcome her in.

Jake walked straight into the kitchen where the microwave was already heating up the Thai food she’d brought for him. While she sat at the counter, Jake leaned up against the opposite side and asked, “What did you buy me Thai for?”

“It’s an apology.”

“The Thai food is an apology?”

“Yes.”

“For what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He narrowed his eyes at her, as if he had no idea what he was talking about. He knew damn well what it was for. He just wanted her to say it herself.

“For happy hour the other day.”

Jake hummed, seemingly satisfied by her answer, and grabbed the food from the beeping microwave before slipping out of the kitchen to the living room. Sutton stood there a moment longer, ignoring her overwhelming urge to find a pillow and scream right into it.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

Her question was followed by a moment of silence until he reappeared in the doorway. He gave her an amused look before he stepped over to the utensil drawer to grab two forks.

“Sutton, when have I ever wanted you to leave me alone?” He paused. “Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No.”

“Great.” He turned and continued out of the room. “Come eat.”

Jake sat on the floor on one side of his coffee table, and Sutton sat across from him. He turned the television on to some rerun of Friends and watched absentmindedly while they ate, his quiet chuckles the only thing filling the air around them.

Sutton watched him, mostly because he wasn’t looking at her, and felt relief wash over her. The tension in her shoulders over almost everything going on in her life was momentarily cured just because she was near him. She knew the Thai food was only a momentary solution and that a more serious conversation would follow later, but she didn’t care. This moment was something she’d been wanting since she saw him on Friday.

After eating, Jake showered and left Sutton in the living room to pick a movie for them to watch. When he returned, she was sitting on the opposite end of the couch from where he had been. He settled down onto the cushion without a word, eyes grazing over the description of the movie she’d picked out.

“Feels weird to have you all the way over there,” he said softly.

She stood and readjusted herself on the cushion beside him. Her legs folded beneath her as she pulled her sweatshirt sleeves over her hands. He noticed the way she was curling into herself and sighed in defeat, dropping his head against the back of the couch.

“Are you cold?” he asked. Sutton glanced over at him. “Or do you just feel that weird around me now?” She frowned. He looked away from her, muttering, “If I had known that you were going to be there with him, I would’ve gone somewhere else.”

“This is so fucked up,” she groaned into her hands. “That’s so unfair to you, Jake.”

“What do you mean?”

“You would have gone somewhere else? So that I could keep my friendship with you private from my relationship? Who does that?” she rambled. “Christ. Why do you deal with this? I’m such a shitty friend.”

“You’re not shitty, Sutt.”

“Yes! I am!” she exclaimed. “I should’ve just told Garrett that we met, but I didn’t because I knew he’d be pissy and I didn’t want to deal with it. Now, look! I’ve just made the situation worse because I hurt you and dug myself into a hole even deeper than it already was.”

“Why would you even think he’d be mad?”

“There’s a reason I’m only friends with girls, Jake.”

He stared at her long and hard after that admission feeling an anger boil in his stomach that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. Finally, he asked, “Does he not let you have friends who are guys?”

Sutton’s answered with a look.

“He—he doesn’t hit you, does he?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No. Never. I wouldn’t be with him if he was, like, abusive.” She almost couldn’t get the words out because she realized how ridiculous she sounded. She couldn’t even believe herself.

Jake huffed, his eyes rolling in frustration, as he said, “Okay, so he’s not physically abusive.”

“Jake.”

“No, I know,” he murmured. “You don’t want to talk about it. You never want to talk about it.”

He turned his attention back to the TV screen, jaw clenched so he could hold back all the words he wanted to say. He kept it to himself, knowing that if he spoke he’d be speaking out of anger and it would just make the situation worse.

So, he waited until he was composed. He waited until he was levelheaded. And level headed Jake cared more about keeping his friendship with Sutton intact than telling her that her boyfriend was a piece of shit.

“I hate being mad at you so much,” he said with a sigh. She pouted at him. “You’re like my best friend.”

“You’re mine, too,” she whispered. Jake stretched and pulled her into him for a hug. She relaxed in his arms, sighing softly into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I just wish you wouldn’t let him control your life the way you do.”

Sutton pulled away and sighed.

“Things are good between us right now,” she said. “I know you don’t really understand it. Kate and Mia don’t either, I know that. It’s just that Garrett has been good to me. I’m happy.”

“Okay.”

“And I know that our friendship started out a little flirtatiously,” she continued. “But I can’t let you get the wrong idea, Jake. I’m happy with Garrett and I don’t want to lose you because of it. We’re—”

“We’re just friends,” Jake jumped in. “That’s what we have been since you yelled at me for buying you a Valentines’ gift.”

“I just wanted to make sure that the lines weren’t blurred.”

“Not blurred,” he insisted. “You’re my friend, Sutt. That’s all.”

---

March 17th, 2019

Jake was on his way to Sutton’s apartment because Garrett did something fucked up. He was beginning to forget how to treat Sutton again and Jake found himself picking up the pieces more than once. It wasn’t his job. He knew that, and yet he was still showing up to check on her.

Boston was in full-on party mode for St. Patrick’s Day and though Jake had been invited to a teammate’s house that night, he was on his way to Sutton’s apartment with ice cream. She answered the door, eyes rolling when she saw Jake on the other side. She told the girls not to tell him what Garrett had done that day… Clearly, they didn’t listen.

“Why are you here?”

“That was not a nice hello,” he noted as he pushed past her. He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed two spoons before entering the living room with Sutton hot on his heels. “What are you doing?”

“I was watching Project Runway,” she told him. She grabbed the remote and paused the television. He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Is Project Runway your emotional support show?”

“Who says I need emotional support?”

“Your roommates.”

“God, they’re so nosy,” she muttered. “I told them not to call you.”

“I would’ve figured it out even if they didn’t,” he said. He sat down on the couch and opened the pint of ice cream he’d brought with him. “I knew something was wrong just from the way you were texting me.”

“How?”

“Just your general lack of interest in the conversation.”

“Sorry.”

“All good,” he said, waving her off. He lifted the pint up toward her. “That’s why I came with your favorite flavor!”

Sutton fell to the couch beside him and grabbed a spoon, heart fluttering at his thoughtfulness. He pulled her legs over his lap and gazed over at her as she started digging into the Ben & Jerry’s in her hand.

“So, what happened?”

“Today’s our anniversary,” she explained. She handed him the pint after placing the spoon in her mouth, eyes fluttering shut as the flavor exploded in her mouth. Jake huffed, scooping out a spoonful for himself.  

“Why isn’t he celebrating with you?”

“He had a St. Patrick’s party at his office,” she answered. “He’s up for a huge promotion at work, again, so he’s sucking up.”

“He couldn’t bring a plus-one?”

“I didn’t ask.”

Sutton might’ve asked Garrett at the beginning of their relationship, but she would never ask him to demand a plus-one now. And there was a very good reason for this. She was sure that if he’d dragged her along, she would find out something that she didn’t want to know. Something along the lines of him cheating on her.

All the signs were there, but she didn’t want to believe it. Or confront him about it.

And she certainly didn’t want to tell Jake.

“That’s so unfair to you,” he grumbled, passing the ice cream back to her. “You should say something to him. I thought things were going well for a little bit.”

“Yeah, well,” she said dismissively. “This is how things are between us.”

“Isn’t it exhausting, Sutton?”

“A little bit.”

“You deserve better than exhausting.”

+

When Kate and Mia got home later that night, they found the two of them wrapped up in each other and a message on the television asking if they were still watching their show. The sound of the door slamming shut startled the two awake and, under the watchful eyes of her roommates, Sutton scrambled off him.

“Hi, sleepy heads.”

“What time is it?” Jake grumbled, reaching out for his phone. He read the time, dropping his head against the pillow in frustration. Sutton left the room in search of sweatshirt and Jake found himself cornered by the other two girls. “I have to go.”

He stood, running his hands through his hair to contain the locks that were sticking up from the pillow. The roommates watched him with amused smiles.

“That was sweet,” Kate said. Mia nodded in agreement, but he just rolled his eyes.

“Friends,” he said. A sigh of disappointment fell from Kate’s lips. “That’s what she wants. That’s what I’m giving her. Don’t complicate it.”

“You two are so full of shit,” Mia grumbled as she marched out of the living room.

When Sutton returned, she looked ready for bed. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and her sweatshirt hung loose over her much smaller body. Kate was in the kitchen, out of sight, so Sutton’s guard fell for a moment. She walked over to Jake and wrapped her arms around his waist to cuddle against his chest again.

“Talk to Garrett, would you?”

She looked up at him, almost pleading him to drop the subject, but caught the look in his eye and knew he was serious.

“Okay, I will.”

“I just want you to be happy,” he said. “And he makes you happy, right?”

---

March 26th, 2019

Charlie was disappointed in Jake. There he stood, in Charlie’s kitchen, with his hip cocked against the counter and his phone in his hand. It had been two months since he met this girl and he was still pining after her, even though she had a boyfriend. It was pathetic.

“Sutton?”

Jake hummed at him in response. Charlie rolled his eyes and ripped the phone from his hands like a middle school bully. He glanced down at the screen, eyes catching her name and a horrible grey text to blue text ratio.

“Dude, are you triple texting a girl with a boyfriend?”

He shoved the phone back to Jake who then placed it in his back pocket with a scowl.

“I’m worried about you.”

“We’re friends.”

“You got friendzoned by a girl you tried to hit on at a club,” Charlie pointed out. “Where did you go wrong?”

“I talked to her.”

“Is she coming tonight?” he asked, deciding to use mercy rules on his love-struck friend.

“Yep,” Jake answered, avoiding eye contact with Charlie. It didn’t go unnoticed by McAvoy and he was waiting for Jake to drop whatever bomb was coming. “I think she might be bringing her boyfriend.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault,” Jake said. “I told her she could bring him if she wanted to.”

“Why would you do that?”

“She wanted to be here to celebrate us clinching a playoff spot. And I really wanted to see her, but she also had dinner plans with him. So, I told her to bring him with her after dinner.”

“I don’t want that prick in my apartment.”

Although Charlie thought Jake’s crush was ridiculous, he started to become a little protective of her over the last two months. He was always hearing all the crazy stories about her boyfriend and how shitty he was to her. It made Charlie itch.

He’d been around Sutton a few times since he saw her at happy hour, mostly at Jake’s apartment and in passing. She spent some time there on the weekdays, when Charlie assumed Garrett was at work. She was always making sweets for Jake (he claimed it was because she was stressed, though Charlie thought it was something more than that). When she noticed that Charlie would steal half of them each time, she started leaving him a bag of goodies too.

Other than those few occurrences, Jake was mostly talking his ear off about the times they could grab lunch or drinks. And, though he was still completely head-over-heels for her, the relationship between the two of them seemed to shift to a more platonic type. Forget the constant flirting and you just had two best friends.

“I don’t want him here either,” Jake grumbled. “But I want her, so we’ll just have to deal.”

Truth be told, Jake had gotten better at just being her friend. She stopped telling him all the shitty stuff that Garrett did to her. Instead, they talked about work and the things they would do when they finally got time off. Even Kate and Mia stopped telling him when Sutton and Garrett fought.

It was a step in the right direction, but he still knew things weren’t going right. He could tell by the way she filled his counter with baked goods and picked out the sappy rom coms on movie nights. Both were becoming a daily occurrence, but Jake kept his mouth shut. 

He kept checking his phone for a sign of life from Sutton. Dinner with Garrett was at 6:30 p.m. 10:30 p.m. came around and his phone was still dry.

He hated himself for being so hung up on it because she was out with her boyfriend! Maybe they were having a great time, maybe for once in their relationship Garrett was doing the right thing and she was happy, maybe they’d gone back to his place… Jake shook off the traitorous thought.

He spent the night bouncing from group to group until Charlie pulled him into a conversation with some of his girlfriend’s friends. It was obvious, from the look in Charlie’s eyes, that this was a set up in progress. And, for the first time in a long time, Jake let it happen.

He talked to the girl in front of him, a small brunette with big brown eyes, for what seemed like hours. And not in a good way. He wondered if maybe she was being so boring to get him to kiss her, but it wasn’t working. He didn’t want to kiss her because he didn’t want to kiss anyone but Sutton.

Jake sighed, lifting his hand to the girls forearm to say, “It was really nice to meet you, but I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”

She looked at him like he punched her in the gut.

When he got to the bathroom, he peed and then stared at himself in the mirror for a little bit too long. He wasn’t even drunk. He just needed to have a moment with himself. Finally, when he felt centered, he leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water on his face before slipping out to the hallway once more.

“Jake!”

The sound of Sutton’s voice echoed off the walls of the hallway and set him off kilter once again. She bounded forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, effectively turning him to putty in her hands.

“Hi,” she greeted. She hung on him a little more than she usually did. Jake gazed down at her, thinking she looked a little bit like an angel with her hair pinned back like that.

His lips turned up into a small smile as he pressed a kiss against her forehead and murmured, “Hey.”

Mia turned down the hallway at that moment and let out a large exhale.

“Oh, good,” she huffed out. “She found you.”

Kate bumped into Mia from behind, apparently also in search of the sweet girl in his arms.

“She found him!”

“I found him!” Sutton exclaimed, clapping her hands over Jake’s cheeks as she looked up at him.

“You found me,” he responded with a soft laugh. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then glanced up at her roommates over her shoulder with a concerned look.

Kate came forward, wrapping her arms around Sutton’s waist to pull her from Jake.

“Come to the bathroom with me?”

“Sure, lovebug!” Sutton exclaimed. She turned back to look at Jake and planted a kiss right on his lips so quickly that he didn’t even get a chance to close his eyes, pucker his lips, or savor the moment. With a shocked gasp, Kate pulled Sutton away to the bathroom down the hall.

Jake’s eyes widened when he looked back at Mia.

“What the fuck is happening?” he asked, reaching up to brush his fingers along the tingling on his lip.

“She thinks Garrett is cheating on her.”

“Weren’t they supposed to be at dinner tonight?”

“He didn’t show, so she checked his location,” Mia explained. “He’s at a coworker’s house. Apparently, it’s been happening for a while and she didn’t care to tell us until tonight.”

Jake couldn’t decide what he was feeling. He was simultaneously pissed off at Garrett for being a dickhead, and Sutton for kissing him in that moment, and himself for feeling butterflies.

“She ended up eating dinner at the bar of the restaurant by herself and came back to our place bombed,” Mia continued. “We tried to get her in bed, but she insisted on seeing you. So, here we are.”

“She can’t stay.”

“We know that,” she said. “But she won’t leave with just us.”

The two of them exchanged a knowing look before the door down the hall swung open and Sutton stepped out, pulling Kate along with her. Jake stuffed down his frustration towards her and walked over with a smile to pick her up in a hug. She giggled and pressed her forehead against his.

“Let’s go home, yeah?”

“I just got here!”

“Yeah, but I’d much rather be at your place right now.”

Sutton pouted. Jake pouted back. And then she was smiling again.

+

Charlie stopped Jake before he slipped out the door behind the girls. His fingers curled into his teammate’s bicep way harder than necessary. Jake winced beneath his grasp.

“You need to sort this Sutton situation out,” he spoke. “I saw her plant one on you.”

“I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

“You are going to let this girl rip your heart out if you don’t set some boundaries,” Charlie barked. “I know you love her and I know deep down she’s not a shitty person, but I think she needs to figure her shit out on her own. You need to stop trying to fix everything for her.”

The ride back to Sutton’s apartment was silent. Charlie’s words echoed in his head as he slipped into the back of the car with Sutton right behind. She kicked her legs up over his lap and snuggled into his chest. Knowing nothing would get solved with her this drunk, he sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her into him.

He couldn’t believe she just kissed him like that, especially because she thought Garrett might’ve been doing the same thing across the city. It felt like he was a pawn in her little game, and he hated that because Sutton was better than that. At least he thought so.

Soft snores fell from her lips moments after they pulled away from the apartment building. Without thinking, he began to massage the top of her head. Kate watched with a fond smile on her face.

Jake carried her up to the apartment, stirring her from sleep only as he placed her on her bed.

“Jake,” she murmured. He knelt beside her and started to unclasp the heels she was wearing.

“Sutton.”

“Thank you.”

He hummed, picking up the shoes to place them by her closet door.

“Come to the bathroom,” he urged, extending his hand to her. “We’ll get that make up off. You can brush your teeth.” He turned away from her once she was standing and smirked. “Maybe even throw up if you feel so inclined.”

Sutton hit him lightly on the back, a giggle falling from his lips at the teasing.

Jake rummaged through the cabinets in search of her make up wipes while she sat atop the counter and brushed her teeth. After rinsing, she watched him with tired eyes as he moved to stand between her legs.

He cupped the back of her neck to hold her head steady while he removed her makeup and tried not to think about the way that she was looking at him, or how she melted into his touch the moment he held her. Her eyes fluttered shut for him to get off her eye makeup. When they opened again, their eyes met in a steady, loving gaze.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Sutton,” he murmured. He stepped back and opened the bathroom door once more to usher her out. She did as she was told and retreated to her room to crawl into bed. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water and pain killers. He placed them on her bedside table.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked. Jake sat down beside her and she reached up to cup his cheek in her hand. He leaned against her palm as her thumb stroked his cheekbone.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” he responded. Her eyes began to well up. “You’re working yourself up. Don’t do that. We’ll be fine, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand and sniffled. Jake placed a kiss against her forehead before turning to leave. He stopped at the door and looked back at her as she settled beneath the comforter and snuggled the pillow beneath her head.

“Call me when you get up.”

+

Sutton didn’t call by 10 a.m. the next morning, so Jake swung by to check on her. Mia let him in and informed him that she still wasn’t awake. He walked down the hall anyway, stopping just beyond the threshold of her door before pushing it open to find her sprawled out with her face mushed into the pillow. He took a few silent steps towards her bed and sat at the edge of it before lightly shaking her awake.

She woke with a start, the touch of Jake’s hand against her ankle shocking her enough to sit up right.

“Ouch,” she grumbled, squinting her eyes at the light filtering in from the window as she brought a hand to her head to stop the throbbing. Jake sprung up to shut the blinds. “Thank you.”

“I thought you’d be awake already,” he said, standing in front of the remaining rays of light coming through the window. “Get up. Let’s get breakfast.”

Jake was beyond anxious as they walked to her local diner. He wondered if she could tell that he was off or if she even remembered what happened. The way that she was talking, so nonchalant and unbothered, gave him the impression that she had no clue what damage she’d done last night.

“I honestly don’t remember getting to Charlie’s last night,” she admitted as they sat in a booth beside the window. “I remember seeing you in bits and pieces.”

“Really? Do you remember that I put you to bed?”

“Oh, Jake.” She dropped her head into her palms as she shook her head in disappointment at herself. He tried to hide the frown on his lips by turning his attention to the coffee in front of him. He ripped open a sugar packet and dumped it into the mug as Sutton grumbled about how sorry she was.

She continued talking, but Jake was finding it hard to listen. How could she act like nothing was wrong when it felt like the weight of his whole world was crushing him?

“When are you gonna tell me about your dinner with Garrett?” he blurted out as he finally met her eyes again. Her mouth snapped shut and realization set in that he wasn’t the happy-go-lucky Jake she thought she was grabbing breakfast with. He was not happy.

“He didn’t show up. He had something work related to take care of.”

“At his coworker’s house?”

“How do—”

“Mia filled me in when you showed up at Charlie’s,” he answered. “You were already plastered when you got to the party.” He paused. “Why didn’t you call me when he didn’t show?”

“Because it’s not your job to pick up the pieces every time he fucks up.”

“Then who will? Yourself? Because you did a pretty shitty job of it last night,” he spat. Sutton sat back against the vinyl seat behind her, shocked at his outburst. He paused, inhaling deeply before dropping the bomb. “You kissed me. Do you remember that, Sutton?”

Her jaw dropped and a hand came up to clasp over her mouth in shock as she mumbled out an apology that Jake didn’t want to hear.

“I like you, Sutton. I like being around you and talking to you. But, you drew a line months ago… A line that I’ve stopped trying to cross. And then you just kissed me, like there’d be no consequences.”

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“But you did. And this morning you still woke up as his girlfriend, and you will tomorrow morning too. So, all I’m asking is that you figure your shit out with him and you don’t drag me into it. You can’t just kiss me because you think he also might be kissing someone else. That’s not fair. You wanted friends, so I gave you friends.”

As if by some divine intervention, their meals came at that moment and the conversation was dropped immediately. When they reached the front door of Sutton’s apartment, Jake didn’t try to come in like he usually did on hungover Sunday mornings. Instead, he stopped at the door.

“Sutton, I’m saying this to you as your friend and nothing more,” he started. “I can’t be around you until you figure your shit out. I’m tired of being your second choice. You have to figure out your worth and I can’t hold your hand until you get there. It’s driving me crazy.”

She stared up at him, eyes welling up with tears, and realized that the best thing in her life was about to walk away. A rogue tear slipped down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly hoping that he wouldn’t notice. He did, though, he always did.

He pulled her into his arms, engulfing her in an embrace despite the conversation at hand. She stayed still for a moment, rigid even, until she heard Jake let out a shuddering breath into the crook of her neck. Only then did she reciprocate the hug, arms wrapping around his neck like he was her anchor.

---

May 17th, 2019

Sutton didn’t know what she expected to see when she walked into the club, but it definitely wasn’t Jake dancing on a table in the VIP section. She watched as Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to solid ground, unable to peel her eyes off the boy who’d become a stranger.

“Did you see him?” she asked Mia.

“I don’t think there’s a single person at this club that didn’t.”

When they reached a table, she glanced back in his direction, but the crowd had grown so thick that she couldn’t find him. Kate, who’d already made a beeline for the bar, found them moments later with drinks in hand. She handed one to each of the girls. She took one glance at Sutton and asked, “What’s the face for?”

“In true Sutton Beckett fashion, Jake was the first thing she saw when we walked in here.”

“Jake’s here?”

“Why do you think we’re here, Kate?” Mia asked. Sutton looked at her with a slight panic to her expression. Mia raised her eyebrows at her with a smirk. “Yeah, I know all your tricks.”

“He posted it on his Instagram story, okay?”

Kate dropped her face into her palms, grumbling, “Why won’t you just call him like a normal person?”

“I’m planning to,” she said defensively. Mia hummed in disagreement. “What? I will! Eventually. Like at the end of the season probably.” The girls groaned at that answer. “I don’t even know if he wants to talk to me. He said he didn’t wanna be around until I figured my shit out.”

“Yeah, and you broke up with Garrett two months ago!” Kate exclaimed while Mia grunted, “You like sabotaging yourself, don’t you?”

“You both suck.”

After Jake left that morning, Sutton felt like she cried forever. The door shut behind him and she sank down to the floor and sobbed. Mia and Kate came to her rescue immediately. They listened to her when she wanted to talk about it and, finally, helped her cleanse the apartment of all traces of Garrett. Mia even went as far as purchasing sage to burn. They packed his things into a box and placed it on the floor beside the door with plans to drop it off to him the next day.

When Sutton called him to end it and let him know she was dropping his shit off, he didn’t pick up. It continued for another two days before Kate and Mia were tugging her out to the streets in pursuit of his office building. She ultimately found him flirting with the receptionist in his office and dropped the box to the floor. She kicked it over to him, sending the contents flying.

“Go fuck yourself, Garrett.”

“I never liked you,” Mia echoed. Sutton marched toward the exit, ignoring the protests coming from her scumbag ex’s mouth. She grabbed the girls’ arms and dragged them out with her. “Fuck you, Garrett!”

Sutton didn’t cry over Garrett, but she did cry over Jake. She would be crazy not to.

As she drained her first drink of the night, Sutton couldn’t help but search the bar for Jake and his teammates. She didn’t want to be surprised by him because, truthfully, she wasn’t sure she was ready to see him.

“I honestly don’t know why we even came here,” she muttered, chewing on one of the ice cubes from her cup. “We should leave.”

“We’re not leaving,” Mia barked. “We came here for a reason, whether you think so or not, and you’re going to get what you came for.”

Sutton glared at her, Mia glared back, and Kate watched in amusement until Sutton finally gave in. She grabbed her drink and knocked it back in one swift movement before standing.

“I’m going to get another.”

The girls cheered as she stepped away from them and began to nudge her way through the crowd. She found a break in congestion a few steps ahead. But, just as she was about to slip in, a solid body stepped in front of her. She was about to apologize when she glanced up to see Charlie McAvoy.

His eyes blew wide when he saw her. He was convinced that he was seeing things, but he knew there was no way he was drunk enough for that. He reached out, setting a hand tentatively against her forearm and she waited patiently for him to snap back to reality.

“Does Jake know you’re here?” he asked, eyes searching the area around them frantically. She shook her head, slightly embarrassed by his reaction. He looked back at her. “Why haven’t you called?” Before she could answer, he frowned. “You haven’t broken up with that asshole.”

“I did.”

“Then, why haven’t you called him?”

“We didn’t exactly leave off on the best terms,” she said. Charlie rolled his eyes, shoving Sutton lightly towards the bar. She ordered, he ordered, and he scolded her when she tried to pay for her own drink. Then, he tugged her off towards the VIP section.

Jake saw Charlie first and flung himself out of the booth to swipe his new drink from his hands. And then he saw Sutton over his shoulder and his face dropped. Charlie slipped away, leaving the two face-to-face. He squinted at her, like he was trying to process the image in front of him.

“When did you break up with him?”

“A few days after we argued,” she said. He stilled, mind racing as he tried to figure out the timeline.

“Sutton, you’ve been single for two months and you haven’t called?”

“I was scared.”

“Would you have even called me if you hadn’t seen me tonight? Or would I still be wondering?”

“Of course not,” she defended herself. “I was going to tell you at the end of the season.”

He looked uncertain for a moment, but then his features softened and he wrapped his arms around her. He ducked so that his head was in the crook of your neck. She could feel the soft sigh that left his lips against her skin.

“I miss you.”

Sutton relaxed against him, relieved that he didn’t seem angry at her in the moment. They stood there for a moment, ignoring the hooting and hollering from his teammates at the booth. When he pulled away, he gazed down at her adoringly. “You look beautiful.”

“You look happy,” she said. She ran her fingers through his hair, playing into his sweetness despite her better judgement.

“Are you happy?” he asked, face suddenly serious. She nodded, corners of her lips turning up at his question. His eyes searched her face. “I’m proud of you.”

Before either of them could say anything more, Charlie’s girlfriend appeared with a tray of shots and they were swept up into a crowd of his teammates and their plus-ones, all reaching for shots for themselves.

Sutton stepped backwards to make space and ended up stumbling over Jake’s feet, her back bumping into his chest. Instead of stepping away, drunk Jake dropped a hand to her hip to steady her. He was tingly all over, liquor coursing through him, and when he felt her relax into his touch, he allowed himself to wrap his arm around her stomach to hold her instead. She leaned into him happily.

Someone called out a toast and everyone tossed their shots back with a mixture of grunts and exclamations at the taste. The group dispersed after and, though Jake dropped his arm from around her, he placed his hand in hers moments later to search the bar for Kate and Mia.

The look at their faces when they saw Sutton and Jake hand in hand was comical. They were practically bursting at the seams with excitement and hopped out of the booth to embrace the two in a hug.

“We missed you!” Mia all but yelled in Jake’s face. His drunken giggles got the best of him then, squeezing her a little tighter in response.

+

Unlike the first time they danced together at a club, Jake wasted no time in grinding up against her. His arms wrapped around her waist and her fingers followed, trailing along his arms until she could curl her fingers between his.

When she turned to face him, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His fingers danced along the skin of her back and he smiled when he noticed the goosebumps on her arms. He leaned in just enough to speak lowly into her ear, lips just inches away. “Sleep over tonight.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Jake,” she said. When he pouted, she reached up and thumbed his bottom lip with a smirk. “You’re too drunk for a sleepover, I think, but I’ll get you home like you did for me.”

“Like the night you kissed me?” he asked with a teasing smile. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder to hide the blush that was creeping up her neck to her cheeks. He chuckled softly, tilting his head to kiss her cheek and murmur in her ear, “I’m ready to go when you are.”

During the fifteen-minute cab drive to Jake’s apartment, he just seemed to just get drunker. He was giggly, chatty, and clingy. His fingers danced along Sutton’s calves, which he’d pulled onto his lap the minute they pulled away from the club. She watched him engage their driver in mindless conversation, smiling softly to herself every time he said something stupid and giggled at himself.

When they pulled up to his building, Jake paid and left the guy behind the wheel a fat tip. Then, he was pulling Sutton out of the car and into the lobby. He wrapped his arms around Sutton’s shoulders and pulled her against his chest as they waited for the elevator.

The doors opened with a ding and Sutton slipped to the corner while Jake pressed the button to his floor. He swayed uneasily on his feet as the elevator jolted upwards. She reached out to steady him, just a soft touch of her hand against his bicep. He turned with a smile.

“Sutton, Sutton, Sutton.”

“What?”

He stepped forward, boxing her into the corner of the elevator. She gazed up at him, finding it hard to breathe as he got closer. He rested his hands against the rail on either side of him and smiled.

“I want to kiss you so bad right now,” he whispered. She leaned away from him slightly, a frown developing as she did so. And though she was hesitant, her heart was hammering in her chest, begging her to attach her lips to his.

“You’re drunk.”

“Sure, but what does that matter?”

“We can’t just do this whenever one of us can’t handle our liquor,” she murmured. His face dropped. “It makes it difficult to tell if we mean it.”

“Trust me, I mean it,” he told her. “I want to kiss you when we’re sober as fuck eating leftovers on your kitchen floor; I want to kiss you when I’m hammered and can barely keep my hands off you.”

The elevator doors opened and Sutton, desperate to move on from this conversation, pushed him out of the car and down the hall.

The moment they entered the apartment, he went to his room to change and returned with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for her. He watched her happily from his perch on the counter as she walked about the kitchen in his clothes. All he could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss her, touch her.

“Drink this,” she said, handing a glass of water over to him. She leaned up against the counter across form him. “You’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.”

“That’s why you should stay over,” he said. “You can nurse me back to health tomorrow morning.”

“Not gonna happen, DeBrusk.”

“Was worth a try,” he slurred. Sutton laughed at the rise and fall of his shoulders as he shrugged before chugging the water from his cup. After dropping the cup in the sink, he turned back and shook his head at her in amusement.

“What?”

“I’ve just missed you,” he told her. He took a few steps toward her before dropping his hands to counter on either side of her and leaned in. He was intoxicating. The smile on his face made her weak in the knees, but she couldn’t just act like there hadn’t been a fight and two months of silence between them.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said. “We should really talk when you’re sober.”

“Let’s just talk now.”

“I’m not going to count this as a conversation.”

“Why not?”

“Because what if you don’t remember?”

Jake’s eyes studied her face and he realized the seriousness of her question. He leaned away then and sighed out, “Okay.”

“Let’s get you to bed, drunkie,” she murmured. She slipped past him, fingers catching on his wrist to tug him along. They stopped in the bathroom so he could brush his teeth and he wouldn’t stop glancing at her the entire way through the rest of his nightly routine as if he was worried she might disappear into thin air.

When they got back into his room, he picked her up and dropped her onto his bed.

“Jake!”

“Just stay for a little bit longer,” he whined. She rolled her eyes, laughter falling easily from her lips as he rolled off her to change into pajamas. He boldly dropped his pants and glanced over his shoulder just to see if she was looking, chuckling to himself when he saw her with her hands over her eyes.

He dropped onto the bed and hovered over her, grin on his face.

“I need to tell you something,” he said, slur in his voice still evident. She raised her eyebrows and pressed her hands against his chest to create some distance between them. “I want to be your boyfriend.”

“Jake,” she whispered. “You’re hammered!”

“Yeah, and I still want to be your boyfriend when I’m sober.”

“I told you I didn’t want to have this conversation right now,” she groaned. He dropped to the side of her and propped himself up on his elbow. “If you really mean it, I need you to tell me when you’re not drunk.”

“I will,” he said. “I promise.”

---

June 12th, 2019

They didn’t talk to anytime soon, and Sutton kept trying to convince herself that it was because he was in the Stanley Cup finals so he was busy, not because he regretted everything he said when he was drunk. But, as time went on, she felt more and more defeated. She waited patiently, though, hoping that she’d get some sort of closure at the end of the season.

She watched the entire series against the St. Louis Blues at the edge of her seat. Game seven had ripped her heart out, like many others in the city, but her first thought went to Jake. She almost felt sick to her stomach thinking about it.

Vice versa, the first person Jake thought about when he left the ice was Sutton. He thought about her through each post-game interview and his post-game routine, and as soon as he was in the parking garage he was texting her.

Did you watch?

He dropped his forehead against the wheel and waited for a response. He wasn’t even positive there’d be one after the shit he pulled at the bar and the silence that followed.

There’s a key under my welcome mat

He started the car immediately and drove in complete silence to Sutton’s apartment. He rushed upstairs, eager to fall into her bed. When he lifted the welcome mat, he let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the key and opened the door. He placed his bag down and kicked off his shoes before locking up behind him and heading off to her room.

When he opened the door, the light from the hallway filtered in and stirred her awake. She leaned up on her elbow and murmured, “I pulled out a toothbrush for you and there are sweats and a t-shirt you can wear at the end of the bed.”

He smiled softly, grabbing the clothes from the bed and turning to go brush his teeth. When he returned, she was leaning up against the headboard waiting for him.

“Are you okay?” she asked. Jake shuffled up towards the headboard of her bed just enough to drop his head to her stomach. A shuddering breath fell from his parted lips as he shook his head that indicated no, he was not okay. She curled her fingers into his hair and leaned down to place a kiss against the top of his head. His arms wrapped around her and the weight of the world disappeared, if only for a second. “I’m proud of you.”

+

When Sutton woke up the next morning, Jake was gone and her stomach dropped. She moved slowly out of bed and then, as panic set in, she quickened her steps through the apartment. The sound of the kitchen cabinets opening and closing greeted her. And when she reached the kitchen so did Jake’s tired smile.

“Good morning,” he said. She watched his cheeks turn pink and felt hers do the same. He motioned to the pan on the stove. “I started making breakfast.”

“I see that.”

“Coffee?”

“I’ll make it,” she offered, walking past Jake to the coffee maker on the other end of the counter. She didn’t catch Jake watching, didn’t feel his eyes wander along her body. She almost caught him when she turned to ask how he took his coffee, but he was quick to divert his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call after the night at the club,” he said suddenly. “Or text.”

Sutton continued for him, feeling the anger she’d built up over the past few weeks begin to boil over. “Or Snapchat. Or really do anything to assure me that things were okay between us.”

Jake frowned, turning his attention back to the eggs on the stovetop. They continued putting breakfast together in silence and reconvened at the kitchen table when the coffee was done and the eggs and toast were plated.

“I mean, you weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to tell me that you weren’t with Garrett anymore,” Jake argued. She sighed, fork clattering to her plate as she leaned back in her seat.

“You told me you didn’t want to talk until I had all my shit together!”

“And do you not?”

“I have no idea!” she exclaimed. “I wanted to call you the moment that I broke up with him. It was my first thought, but then I stopped myself because I thought of how unfair that would be to myself.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t been just Sutton in three years, Jake,” she said. “I’ve been Garrett’s doting girlfriend for three years. Everything I did, I did with him in mind.” She paused. “Then you come along, and suddenly I’m thinking about you, too. For once, I want to just think about myself.”

She continued, “I don’t even know myself. I feel like I’m rediscovering these parts of me that I haven’t thought about in years. I’ve been doing things to make me happy and I’ve been applying to new jobs because I want something more for myself and I finally feel motivated to fight for it. I feel different.”

He felt warm all over, buzzing from the inside out. He didn’t realize how much it would mean to him to hear her say that she was finally fighting for herself. Hearing her explain how she was feeling overwhelmed him with a sense of pride, and in that moment, he couldn’t help but smile at her.

“I guess that’s a good enough reason not to call,” Jake resigned.

“Why haven’t you called?”

“Because I was scared of what I might find out,” he answered. “That you were still with him.” He paused and then shook his head. “And I didn’t call after the club because I couldn’t remember any of the things I said and I was worried that I did something stupid.”

“You don’t remember?” she asked, her fears coming true.

“Not much.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “Okay.”

He was lying. He remembered every moment of that night spent with her. The image of her in his t-shirt swallowing her whole, the look on her face when he told her how he felt, the blush that crept up her neck to her cheeks. How could he forget it?

Mia entered the room then, cutting the conversation off before it could go anywhere else.

 “Ooo! You made bacon!” she exclaimed, snatching a strip from the plate at the center of the table. Her eyes cut from Sutton’s face to Jake’s and she smiled at the sight. “Happy to have you back, Jake.”

---

June 15th, 2019

Three days after the game seven loss, Jake was still feeling the heartbreak of it. He wondered if there would be a day that he didn’t. He spent a lot of time in his apartment, ordering Postmates for food to be dropped at his door so he didn’t have to see anyone he didn’t want to. The only time he’d left was for locker clean-out.

He saw Sutton every day and, though the visits were welcomed, he realized as they sat on the couch and watched shit reality shows that there was still a lot to be said.

He wanted to tell her how he felt about her again, but he kept his mouth shut. Friendship with Sutton was something he’d gotten used to, and he could continue living like this for now. Besides, he’d be leaving Boston soon and he didn’t want to start something that he couldn’t commit all his time to. She deserved to be the center of his world.

On the morning of the fifteenth, Sutton picked him up to drive him to the airport feeling like shit. It had been weeks since they saw each other at the bar, which meant weeks since he admitted his feelings and nothing had been said about it. He said he didn’t remember much, but she wondered if he really did and was just regretting what had been said.

Conversation on the way to the airport was mundane. He talked about all the things he was excited to do at home, like seeing his family and friends, and asked about what she’d do while he was gone, and she sighed heavily before answering, “Work.”

After she parked the car at the curb of the terminal, she reached over for the handle of the door, but Jake grabbed her other wrist to get her attention.

“I lied to you,” he blurted out. “I remember everything I said to you after the club. I wasn’t going to say anything because I love that you’re just being Sutton right now. But, I also don’t want to leave Boston without telling you how I feel.”

“Fuck you!” she exclaimed after releasing long sigh. He started laughing and stepped out of the car. She scrambled after him towards the trunk to grab his things. He was grinning ear-to-ear. “I thought you didn’t remember or you regretted it!”

“You’re crazy to think I’d ever regret you,” he said, fingers coming up to brush her cheekbone. Sutton blushed hard. “Seriously.”

“Your timing is shit,” she said. Jake curled his arm around her shoulders and embraced her. “Why would you admit your feelings and then fly off to Canada? That’s bullshit.”

“I don’t want you revolving your life around us right now,” he said. He pulled back and pressed his lips to her forehead, even though he desperately wanted to kiss her lips. Then, he pulled away completely. “You have three months to just be you, but then I’m coming back for you.”

---

September 1st, 2019

Jake and Sutton were both shaking like leafs as they made their way to each other on the morning of September 1st, him on the plane, her in her car on the way to pick him up. The summer was full of fresh starts. For Sutton, she ended up in a new position with a corner office at work. Jake had the summer to reset, spend time with his family, and relax.

Together, it was a fresh start to their relationship and more time to get to know each other.

Although they weren’t officially together, they talked on the phone at least once a week, but usually more. They flirted with the idea of the future through conversations about dates they’d go on when he got back and movies they needed to watch together. It felt like all the pieces of the puzzle were finally together, all Jake needed to do was come back to Boston.

And he was finally home.

Sutton stood beside her car as she waited for him to emerge from baggage claim. Her hands were shaking and her stomach felt sick, but the moment she saw him, it all went away. She sprinted over and threw herself into his open arms, giggling as his bags hit the pavement.

He wrapped his arms around her so tightly he thought she might snap in half. Then, she looked up at him, wide smile on her face, and all he could ask was, “Can I please kiss you like I’ve been wanted to all summer?”

“I might die if you don’t.”

And then the world fell away and it was just Jake and Sutton, finally kissing on purpose.

+

“Where are we going?”

“Stop asking questions!”

Sutton knew exactly where he was taking her, but she was hoping the question would make him rethink it. The door just before the stairs had ROOF ACCESS stamped across it.

“Won’t we get into trouble?”

Jake paused then, turning to answer, “Of course not. I slipped the security guards $50 to let us up here.”

Sutton laughed loudly at that and allowed him to continue tugging her along.

After picking him up at the airport, they spent the day re-exploring Boston. They walked in parks and talked on benches for hours on end, like they hadn’t spoken all summer, and then Sutton brought him to her office building to show off her new office. He kissed her in front of her desk and congratulated her for the hundredth time before whisking her off to dinner reservations he’d made a few weeks prior. By the time dinner ended, the two of them were drunk on each other, giggling and dancing down the streets to his apartment.

Jake pushed the door to the roof open and stepped out, tugging Sutton along with him towards the edge of the roof. She laced her fingers through his and followed happily. When he slowed to a stop, she halted beside him, resting her cheek against his arm. The city was alive beneath them, lights shining on them like a spotlight.

“I’ve always wanted to bring you up here,” he spoke, glancing down at her. She was already looking up at him, soft smile playing on her lips. “But I didn’t think it was appropriate to bring you up here if we were ‘just friends.’”

“We were never really just friends, huh?”

“Not at all,” he answered with a laugh. “You were delusional.”

That moment felt so poignant to Sutton, like it was the moment that was going to change everything. She turned to fold into his chest and his arms curled around her, filling her with a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Do you want this, Sutton?” he asked, voice just above a whisper. She looked up at him, eyes searching his face, falling to his lips as he spoke his next words. “Do you want to be with me?”

“More than anything.”

---

October 18th, 2019

“He’s going to pass out when he sees you.”

“God, I hope not,” Sutton murmured, fingers still covering the small smile on her lips as she gazed at herself in the lingerie she was modeling for her roommates. Her eyes cut back to the two of them. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Not at all,” Mia said. Kate shook her head, eyes still taking in all the little bows and lace on the set. She sighed suddenly and grunted, “Now you’re making me want to buy lingerie. I don’t even have a boyfriend.”

Sutton snorted before turning back to her reflection to admire herself once more.

They’d officially been dating a little over a month and it was a dream. It was fun to get to know each other in a different, more intimate way and little by little all the walls were being broken down between them, not that there were too many to begin with.

Jake’s 23rd birthday was October 17th, but because he had a game, they couldn’t celebrate the way they’d been planning to. Fortunately, his next two days were free, so Sutton booked a stay at an Airbnb in Cape Cod.

She was all nerves and anxiety leading up to the trip, simply because of the mounting pressure that came with not having had sex with him yet. They’d spent the past month exploring each other with their hands and their mouths, but it was never taken any farther than that.

Only twice had they gotten close to it.

The first occurrence was about a week after the season started. He’d been away on a four-game road trip and by the time he got home, he was exhausted. Sutton was waiting for him when he got home the next afternoon and he collapsed into her arms on the couch until he was ready to cleanse himself of the remnants of loss and airplane germs.

“Come shower with me.”

“Jake,” she murmured hesitantly, threading her fingers through his hair.

“C’mon,” he whined through a pout. “I missed you.”

“Fine.”

She followed him to his room and popped her phone onto the charger while he stripped himself of his clothes. His hands found their way around her waist, sliding underneath her sweatshirt to pull it over her head. When Sutton turned to face him, he captured her lips with his and she moaned against his lips happily.

He shed her of her clothes as they kissed slowly, but as soon as she was standing naked in front of him, she pushed him towards the bathroom, too nervous for what could come next, unsure if she was even ready to go there.

Jake held her close beneath the warmth of the water, fingers traveling along her spine, into her hair, gripping her ass. Her hands were just the same, feeling his every muscle constrict beneath her touch, listening to him shudder when her hands traveled below his hips. He was hard against her lower abdomen,

“I’m not ready,” she blurted out. The second the words were out in the open she was clasping her hands over her mouth. Jake took a step back, his hands falling from her skin to his sides.

“Ready for what?”

“Sex.”

“Okay, that’s okay,” he murmured, placing another soft kiss against her lips. “I can wait.”

The second time was after a night spent with Charlie and his girlfriend, drinking wine and watching shitty movies. She was going to spend the night at Jake’s anyway, so when they got back to his apartment, they got ready for bed and cuddled up under the covers together—him in a pair of boxers, her in underwear and a t-shirt of his. She woke up in the middle of the night with Jake wrapped around her, his erection against her ass. As she pulled his arms tighter to her, he stirred and rutted his hips against her. 

“Sleeping with you is so hard.”

“Why? Cause you’re always hard?” she asked with a laugh. He hummed affirmatively, pressing into her a bit more. She turned around and kissed him softly. His eyes fluttered open at the feather light touch of her lips, and then he was on her, kissing her while his hands gripped her ass. In seconds, he had her on top of him, straddling his lap.

“You’re so wet right now,” he murmured as she rubbed against his bulge. Sutton was thankful for the veil of darkness in his room because she was bright red and flustered. He gripped her hips and guided her hips. “C’mon, use me, baby.”

She began to grind against him as they made out and he kept her hips down, rutting up into her to help her towards orgasm. It didn’t take long, the friction against her clit had her breathing heavily into the crook of his neck in no time and as her orgasm washed over her, he helped her through it by continuing to guide her hips against him.

“Fuck,” she sighed, and he laughed gently, wrapping his arms around her to keep her close to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” he spoke. “That was hot.”

And that was the extent of it. But now, he was turning another year older and she wanted to give him a gift to remember.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted as soon as Sutton opened the apartment door. He swept her up into a hug and kissed her full on the mouth while Mia and Kate aww’d behind them. “Hey, ladies.”

“Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, thank you,” he responded before placing one more kiss on Sutton’s lips. They detached from each other long enough for Jake to grab Sutton’s overnight bag. “Are you ready to go? I’ve been itching to get out of this city with you.”

Jake led her to the car, hand-in-hand, chattering on about the game he played the night before and Sutton hung on his every word, like she always did. He loaded her things into the trunk beside his and slid into the driver’s seat, handing the aux over to her—the only person he ever let control the music in his car.

As soon as they pulled onto the highway, Sutton blurted, “I want to have sex with you.”

“Yeah? I want to have sex with you, too,” he responded, goofy smile playing at his lips. His eyes were still trained on the road, like she hadn’t just divulged this important information to him. She laughed softly and reached out to take his free hand.

“No, like tonight,” she said. He looked over at her with wide eyes. “Eyes on the road.”

“You can’t say something like that and expect me to pay attention to much else,” he grunted, though he was now grinning from ear-to-ear. He squeezed her hand lightly. “Are you serious? You want to?”

“Yes.”

“Birthday sex,” he murmured, chuckling at himself. She laughed with him and shoved his hand away playfully only for him to drop it to her thigh, a little higher than usual, and hit the gas.

+

Jake was a pest at dinner.

Even though they’d been seated at a table across from each other, he pulled his chair around to sit beside her. His hand rested against her thigh the entire time, fingers gripping every once in a while to get a rise out of her.

When asked if they wanted a dessert menu, Jake was quick to turn it down.

“No, I think we’re alright,” he answered. Sutton turned to protest, it was his birthday after all, and he’d probably get a free dessert, but he shook his head at her. “Thank you, though. Everything was delicious.”

“You don’t want dessert?” Sutton asked as soon as the waitress stepped away.

Jake smiled and leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “You’re my dessert, Sutt.”

The ride back to the Airbnb felt way too long and the anticipation of the night ahead had Jake buzzing from the moment they got into the car after dinner to the moment he was sitting in a chair in the living room, waiting for her.

“You can’t touch!” she called from behind the bedroom door. His eyes were locked on it, carefully watching the handle so he could prepare himself.

“Sutton, you’re evil.”

“Promise me!”

“I promise, baby. Come on.”

She pulled the door open and his eyes drank her in. Then, her robe fell to the floor and he released a shaky breath. He leaned forward in the chair, elbows resting on his knees as he braced his hands together to keep himself from touching her.

“Sutton, I don’t know how you expect me to keep myself from touching you when you’re wearing that.”

“Do you want your birthday gift or not?”

“I really fucking want my birthday gift.”

“Then, you’ll find a way to keep your hands to yourself.”

Jake leaned back against the chair with a frustrated sigh, eyes still glued to the lace clinging to her body. He swallowed thickly as his eyes trailed over her chest, landing on the little bow between her breasts before meeting her eyes again.

In the sweetest voice, he murmured, “You’re so pretty.”

A blush crept up her cheeks, smile betraying the seductive front she was trying to show, and she sighed, “How am I supposed to act sexy when you’re making me blush like this?”

“You’re always sexy,” he spoke, voice low again. “You don’t need to act.”

She walked over to him, shaking her head when he reached for her again, and straddled his lap, fingers threading through his hair as he gazed up at her. His hands hung limp on either side of him and his fingers twitched as she grinded against his bulge.

“This is so unfair,” he grunted. She kissed his neck, sucking a mark into it as she continued to rub against him. “Who knew you were such a tease?”

“Who knew you were so chatty?”

“Shut me up then,” he challenged with a cocky smirk. Sutton rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop her lips from curling into a smirk as well. She sunk down to her knees, pushing his thighs open before fumbling with his belt and his eyes watched her hungrily. He lifted himself from the chair and let her pull them down, leaving him in just his boxers.

“Take your shirt off.”

He threw it off eagerly, tossing it over her shoulder to the other side of the room.

Sutton flattened her hands against his chest and ran her fingers over his muscles as they constricted beneath her touch. His breath was already unsteady. It was painful not being able to touch her when she looked so damn good. She kissed along his chest and down his abs to the waistband of his boxers. A breathless curse fell from his lips as she tugged them down.

In no time, she was working him with her hands and then her lips were wrapping around his length. He gathered her hair in his fist and gently pulled it back and out of her face, watching in awe, mouth ajar as she bobbed her head on his dick. She looked up at him sweetly, eyelashes fluttering against her cheekbones as she watched him unravel. He moaned as she took him deeper, hitting the back of her throat.

His other hand flew to his own face and ran through his hair, gripping the roots as he felt his orgasm beginning to bloom in the pit of his stomach. Jake never lasted long when she was on her knees. Her mouth worked wonders for him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he muttered, grip on her hair getting tighter. His hips thrust up involuntarily and she gagged around his cock, but didn’t stop. He threw his head back with a groan as she deep throated him and then he finally came. She swallowed it, sucking him dry as he became a moaning mess beneath her. “Fuck, Sutton, fuck.”

She pulled her mouth off his cock with a pop and licked her lips as his gaze returned to her. He dropped his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her up to him. The lace of her lingerie scratched against the bare skin of his chest and when she straddled him as they kissed, he could feel how wet she was underneath.

“You’re so wet, princess,” he whispered into her kiss. One hand slid along her thigh up to her pussy. He pushed the fabric to the side and slid his fingers along her folds. “I love it when you suck my dick, but I can’t wait to fuck you.” He inserted two fingers into her pussy and she moaned as he curled them against her g-spot. “You’re so wet, so ready for me. Do you want my cock, angel?”

Sutton nodded, a whimper falling from her lips as he pulled his fingers out of her. He stood, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could walk her into the bedroom. When he lowered her onto the bed carefully, he kissed along her skin from the valley of her breasts to her lips.

“Do you like your gift?”

“I love it,” he whispered against her throat. His fingers trailed along the lace covering her pussy. “You bought it for me? Just me?” She nodded, breath catching in her throat as he rubbed her through the fabric. “Happy birthday, JD.”

She giggled at his dorky expression and that little smile on his lips, but she shut up the moment he pushed the lingerie to the side. His fingers began to massage her folds again, coaxing sweet moans from her as he sunk the fingers into her heat and curled them once more.

“I never get tired of your moans,” he murmured. “And I can’t wait to hear what you sound like when I’m fucking you.” She swallowed thickly, his words so dirty compared to how he often joked with her. He noticed her reaction and smiled. “Do you like it when I talk to you like this, Sutton?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“You’re gonna learn a lot of new things about me.”

Sutton giggled and he did just the same because nothing between the two of them could ever stay serious. They just liked each other too much to not be smiling, giggling messes at all times.

“As much as I like this lingerie,” he began, fingers dancing along the bows. “How do I take it off?”

Sutton sat up with a laugh and reached behind her to unclasp the bra. It fell away and she tossed it onto the floor. Jake hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of the panties and pulled them down, throwing them onto the floor as well. His hands were everywhere all at once, cupping her breasts, teasing her core.

He pushed her thighs apart and slotted himself between them as he began kissing her again, the head of his cock brushing against her clit as he leaned in. Her sharp intake of breath shattered the silence in the room.

“Jake, I want you,” she pleaded. He released an uneasy breath, cheeks flushed pink as he reached out to grab the condom from the nightstand and ripped the wrapper open with shaking hands. Sutton reached up and took it from him, asking, “Are you nervous?”

“A little bit, I think. It’s because I like you too much.”

“Too much?”

“It’s not a complaint,” he responded, capturing her lips in a kiss. He sucked in a breath and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth as Sutton rolled the condom over his cock. “Fuck.”

She laid back against the pillows once it was on and Jake admired her body, laid out for him. His hands travelled up her sides, back to her breasts, along the skin of her neck and her cheeks. He nudged her thighs apart some more with his knees.

“Are you ready?” he asked. She nodded, accepting his kiss before he reached down and aligned himself with her entrance. One hand rested beside her head and his other wrapped around his cock as he pushed the head into her. She sighed as he entered her some more, finally releasing his member from his hand and caging her head in on both sides with his hands.

He shuddered as he filled her up, the feeling of her warmth all too consuming. His forehead dropped to her shoulder as he bottomed out and she sighed out a moan, wrapping her legs around his waist to take him deeper.

“You feel so good,” he muttered, barely able to get the words out. He let out a shaky laugh and halted his movements to steady his breath. “Hold on. I need a minute.” Sutton furrowed her brows as he leaned back. He gazed down at her body, down at his body and the place they fit together. “If you told me back in March that this is where we’d be seven months later, I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“No?”

“No, you’re my dream girl,” he spoke, leaning in to kiss her again. He pulled out slowly and then pushed back into her. As she sighed beneath him, he spoke against her lips, “You’re so far out of my league.”

“Jake,” she whispered, fingers carding through his hair. He glanced up at her again. “You’re perfect for me.”

Their next kiss was passionate and full of fire, and he began to thrust faster, pulling her leg higher on his waist to hit deeper. The sound of their moans mixing and their bodies together filled the room. He spoke praises to her about how beautiful she was, how good she felt. She kissed him until her lips were bruised.

His thrusts were slow and calculated and he tried to look her in the eye to see how she looked when she was filled with him. The view was beautiful with her lips plump and her eyes wide. She watched him intently, overwhelmed by this moment, overwhelmed that she was finally with him like they’d wanted to be for so long.

She rutted her hips up to get more friction from him and he dropped his hand to her clit, hoping to help her reach the peak before he had his second orgasm of the night. Her nails scratched his back as her toes began to curl.

“Please,” she moaned.

“What’s up, baby? What do you need?”

“Fuck me harder.”

Jake lifted her leg up to rest against his shoulder and dirty, loud moans filled the room as he fucked her. She looked so pretty beneath him, eyes squeezed shut as her back arched off the mattress. He coached her through it, talkative as always, and she shuddered beneath him as he reached the peak, pussy fluttering around his cock. Her chest heaved as he fucked her through the orgasm and, finally, he poured into the condom as he reached his own.

He didn’t pull out until he was soft, and even then, he hardly moved away from her, opting instead to just drop his weight against her in bed. Her fingers carded through his hair and he relaxed into her touch, leaving lazy kisses against her skin. Finally, he pulled himself off her and moved up the bed to rest his head beside hers on the pillow.

They stared at each other for a long time without saying a word.

Jake couldn’t believe his luck, couldn’t believe that this girl was his, finally. He threaded his fingers through her hair to see her face properly and sighed before leaning in to press a kiss to the top of her nose.

“You’re my best friend,” he whispered. “I’m so happy we’re together.”

“Me too.”

Sutton’s heart felt like it could explode from happiness. After all the times she’d been mistreated, all the bullshit she went through with Garrett, she was finally with someone who understood her, both inside and out. Jake looked at her like she put the stars in the sky and it made her melt.

“I think I could spend the rest of my life with you,” he spoke, voice cracking a bit with emotion as his eyes bore into hers. “I love you, Sutton.”

“Jake,” she sighed out, tears coming to her eyes. She reached up, swiping a thumb along his cheekbone and he tilted his head to press a kiss to her palm. “I love you, too.”

[prose-for-hire]

UC Sunnyhell: Part four

When Hell freezes over

Previous part // Next Part

Pairing: Spike x reader

Request: College AU. Part four of eight. Spike is the campus bad boy with a secret soft heart. The pair continue to navigate living together and try to focus on their similarities than their differences.

Originally requested by: @sunflower-stan​

Other tags: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @harpersmariano @artsymaddie @cameo-greaves @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard​

Warning: Alcohol consumption. Swearing. Sex reference.

For a long time since the open mic night, Spike had been thinking. Writing. Not able to stop himself running those words through his mind. That glimpse of you he was now becoming slowly obsessed with. He was getting ready to leave for the night, probably to drink himself into oblivion depending how this interaction went.

He shrugged on his leather duster and stalked into the living room where you were curled up with a book. You looked up, about to smile but he rushed his words out before you even had chance to change your facial expression.

“Your words”

“Yeah?” You braced yourself. Expecting him to belittle you. To tease.

“I liked ‘em” He shrugged. It was quiet but he had definitely said it. It almost knocked you down in shock. Your eyes widened, to have his approval had been all you had wanted. No matter how mad at him you had been, this weird need for him to like you or some part of you had been there. Even while you disliked him.

You opened your mouth to say something back, but he had already walked away. Leaving to go out for the evening and leaving you reeling at his admittance.

For him, that was massive. He didn’t say much except insulting quips. So, that sentence really started to mean something. You clutched it, tried to hold on to this glimpse of kindness. You had began to want to see the good in him.

He had to walk out quickly before he said something further and ruined it. He knew what you had done, the type of person that would write the words you had – speak them with such feeling, he couldn’t not tell you. Seeing as you had put yourself out there that way to tell him.

He was embarrassed though and didn’t want to have to stand and hear you gushing. It would make him uncomfortable.

Since that night you and Spike had managed to have a few conversations that weren’t entirely unpleasant for either of you. If you saw each other in your shared kitchenette or in the hall you would nod or even hold a little conversation.

It mostly consisted of exchanging ‘hellos’ and you would explain what you were doing and he would nod and not provide you with his intentions for the day. But it was something.

You were becoming more and more curious about the other. Neither of you could help it. You wanted to know more about that poet you had seen glimpses of.

Later that week, you had seen Spike cleaning up after his time in the kitchen. His way of making things up to you. I mean, he moved a plate from one end of the room to the other but the intention was there. You knew he had done it because you always asked him to.

You were beginning to warm up to him. To get used to him. You were confused with yourself for it, after everything but you supposed it had been petty. That you had acted on what others had told you rather than getting to know him properly yourself.

You were sat at lunch with your friends, you had been testing Willow on her history knowledge ahead of the text she had in her next class.

This was before, as it usually would, your group’s conversation turned to your usual living predicament. They did this to offer you support, but you weren’t so sure that you needed it anymore.

“He’s actually been almost nice recently… I don’t know” You mumbled, unsure of yourself.

“What happened to ‘I’ll never find a single good trait of Spike’s – Hell would have to freeze over’?” Your own words repeated back to you.

“Yeah, well Hell may have just frozen over” you mutter this inaudibly as you frown. But you just shrugged to your friends. They began to tease you about it, that you had a crush. It was because it was unthinkable, ridiculous even for this to ever happen.

You took it back, embarrassed about the way you longed to find this connection. Even if it was with someone you had been so sure you hated. You couldn’t dare tell them about the open-mic night. You knew they would only laugh more. And you didn’t want them to laugh… at either of you. Not that you thought they would be cruel to you - you were just wary of their views on the matter.

You then moved conversation onto something you knew would distract them. You had gossip about the time you had been spending with Angel for your presentation.

“He mentions you all of the time” You insisted to Buffy, which was definitely true. Angel always appeared to be thinking about her.

“You think? I was worried I was making it up, y’know? I miss him”

“He feels the same, from what he’s said. But he didn’t say all that much”

“Details! We need the exact words and tone. Now, y/n!” Cordy demanded which made you laugh as she narrowed her eyes.

“Yeah, we’ll send Will to the lab for analysis” Xander joked, his part in this kind of gossip was usually humour and suggesting he was ‘the voice of reason’ on the matter. Although, nobody really listened to his thoughts especially on Angel. They usually teased him because he didn’t get into the frat angel belonged to.

Buffy listened intently as you told them every detail you could remember. You explained how you had been dropping in good words about Buffy here and there. She grinned, hugging you in thanks. She was really excited. She had always loved Angel and she just wanted to be with him again.

Cordelia said that the next stage would be to get Buffy and Angel in the same room, perhaps at the frat party on Friday. You all nodded in agreement as Xander rolled his eyes. He would go, but he would be complaining about the fraternity and how stupid they were the entire time.

Later that week as the party neared, you had been humming softly as you cooked your evening meal. You made pasta but you soon realised you had made too much. So, you walked into the living room a little embarrassed and offered him a bowl. He looked at you with suspicion first. But quickly agreed. He nodded his thanks a little awkwardly as he took the second bowl from your hand.

You went and sat on the comfy chair on the far side of the room from him, still able to cast an eye to whatever it was that he was watching. He watched you from across the room for a moment and you smiled at him as he tucked in.

You were both thinking about the other. As you watched him, you found yourself wanting to know the man behind those sweet words. To take a chance on him despite the way he had acted.

He was fast becoming to realise that your pleasant nature was how you were genuinely. It was your natural setting. You had no ulterior motive other than the pasta would have wasted had he not agreed to have a bowl. You wanted to be friendly. You wanted to share connections with people.

And you were beginning to figure a few things out. You couldn’t confirm it, but you had guessed that the way he acted was a defence. He had built up this armour around himself to protect him from the way he was used to getting hurt. Spent his time drinking and having  lot of sex to fill the void. The emptiness and loneliness he often felt. You knew taking Psych 101 wasn’t a complete waste of time.

You just stared at each other, eating your pasta in silence with the buzz of the tv in the background. It wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just silence. You were both thinking deeply. Completely lost in your own minds.

You emerged from your room on Friday evening. You had been getting ready for the frat party and you thought you better make some kind of effort. You were in a much lighter mood since you and Spike had begun bridging the gap between you. You were both seemingly even marginally more considerate than you had been yesterday. Which was progress. You had this weird flicker of hope inside. As if you and Spike could move forward this way. Be civil at least.

Spike caught sight of you and had to double take.

“Goin’ out, love?” He asked. You nodded, thinking over his use of pet name before he continued, “Makes a change. The annual loser parade?” He asked but this time you knew he wasn’t being cruel.

In fact, the insult had fallen a little flat compared to the biting comments he would usually use. This told you that he was softening. Or, at least, trying not to be as rude as he usually was.

“Just some frat party I promised the girls I’d go to” You shrugged and he nodded distractedly as if he wasn’t too bothered about where you were going. His eyes scanned your body subtly as you moved around the living space looking for things. You turned back to him and he snapped his eyes away, frowning at himself. His brow furrowing.

You were stood with your group of friends at the party, you had drinks and you were letting the music wash over you. The vibrations changing the rhythm of your heart it was so loud. You were laughing with Buffy and Willow. Cordy and Xander were kissing in the corner after Xander had defended her against some loser that had poured beer down her front. He was distracting her while the water they used to wipe her clothes off dried.

Buffy kept looking up at Angel every so often and you all tried to encourage her to walk over to him. While Willow continued talking her friend into walking up to him (which he so clearly looked like he wanted to do as well), you looked off into the distance.

Into the swarm of party-goers. You felt like you stood out. Like everyone else had this amazing time except you. These strong even deep connections that you longed for. You loved your friends but you still felt like you didn’t fit in here completely.

As you felt this, you looked across the room to find none other than your roommate. Spike was there. At a frat party. He stood out as obviously as you felt that you did. He was talking to someone. A woman you was using her arms animatedly as she spoke. She appeared annoyed and he was just calmly nodding along.

Cordy came back from their corner and Xander handed you a drink. Everyone followed your line of vision, thinking you were angry that Spike had crashed. They offered you words of support, some glares in his direction. Willow lowered her voice to explain that the one Spike was talking with was Anya. Nobody really got along with her, she was very blunt and hard to get along with.

“They had a thing”

“Ew, they deserve each other” Cordy scrunched her nose up in disgust at the pair of them.

“Who wouldn’t have a thing with her?” Xander had said at the same time as Cordy, referring to the fact he had always found Anya attractive. He was checking her out and Cordy gasped and hit him in the chest.

They began heatedly arguing and Cordy’s cup looked suspiciously like it was about to empty in Xander’s face.

You tried to help calm them down but Willow tugged you away, shaking her head. She explained there was a 90% probability at any moment they would begin kissing and making up again and nobody should get caught up in that.

You noticed that Anya had stormed away from Spike and he didn’t seem entirely all that bothered about it. For some reason he hadn’t been in the mood for her proposition. Not with Anya, anyway, he maintained. Maybe he was just keeping his options open…

His eye had wondered toward you every so often, he ended up positioning himself nearer to where you would be. He wasn’t sure why or even that he was doing it consciously. He had a taste of your mind. Of your authenticity. That fiery tension that surrounded you both had fuelled this strange feeling. Despite the fact he didn’t want to admit it. He was softening on you.

After a moment, you moved from where you stood by the drinks and made your way over to Spike. He had just been stood in the corner of the room, his face like thunder. He wasn’t well-liked and so he was alone. Again.

You felt bad, seeing him alone. So you walked straight over to him, offering him a beer, “Here” You offered. He raised an eyebrow in suspicion but took it eventually. You joined him, standing beside him with your back against the wall.

“Shouldn’t you be frolickin’ with the rest?”

“Uh, no. I’m taking a break…” You offered, “I don’t really feel like I, y’know, fit in properly here” you admitted, taking another large drink from your bottle. You were speaking more freely as you drank further.

He was interested to hear this. Shocked that you would feel that way and that he could identify with it. He scanned your face, finding your honesty there. A face he so wanted to trust. Especially after hearing more about your earnest thoughts. Writings.

“Yeah, well, it’s ‘cause they’re all bloody mindless automatons”

“Like me, you mean?” You said, not able to let that slide as you took another large drink.

“No, I-” He shook his head when he looked back at you. Seeing that you were actually smiling. You were only teasing him. The corners of his mouth quirked slightly as he looked down. You liked his smile. You weren’t sure if you had ever seen him properly smile before that moment.

You liked it. It softened his features, brightened them. Made him look so much more attractive than that deep-set scowl he usually had on his face. Like the whole world was against him. You were about to tell him you liked his smile, that you wished you could see it more often when you were interrupted. By Buffy.

She pulled you away, hurling a scathing review of his masculinity and telling him to leave you alone. That he had terrorised you enough at home. That he wasn’t even invited into any frats after the last time. You didn’t want to ask about the last time. You had been getting on and didn’t want a reason to change your mind about him.

The scowl returned to his face and you found your own features mirroring his. You felt bad for him. You really had only been talking. You tried to say something, perhaps in his defence but you couldn’t come up with anything. This tenuous understanding was new to you both and so you just kept silent. He hadn’t expected you to say anything and wasn’t particularly annoyed at you.

It just meant he kept an eye on you from the corner of the room again rather than speaking to you. He swigged the beer you had handed him, surprised at the way you had teased him. The way you had been so easy-going. Almost comfortable for him to be around.

As the evening came to an end, you had gotten yourself separated from your group of friends. You were stood in the fresh air of the night thinking about walking home and trying to remember the correct direction.

As you chose a path to follow, you stumbled over your own feet. You braced yourself, expecting to meet hard concrete. But instead some strong hands caught you. Looping around your waist and setting you back on your feet. You turned to look at the blurry bleach blonde figure with a smile.

“You wanna watch it, love. Can’t be stumbling all over the show in a town like this after dark” He muttered. Everyone called the place Sunnyhell because weird things happened with no explanation. He squinted around, “Where’s Blondie? Shouldn’t she be with you?”

“Told her… I’d be okay” You insisted, holding your stomach slightly. You were feeling a little queasy.

“Well, don’t matter what you said. You’re clearly hammered, pet”

“I’m not… you’re- you’re ‘ammered” You copied his accent and giggled slightly. He stepped a few paces in the real direction of your home and stopped looking at you as you just watched him go.

“Come on then, I’m not waitin’ around all night” He gestured with his head for you to walk with him. He was fairly drunk himself, but he could hold it a lot better than you. Too much practice.

“How are you not drunk? You had more th-than me…”

“Some of us can handle our liquor, pet” He said smugly, lighting up a cigarette as you walked beside him, staggering slightly to keep up with him. You were too drunk to notice but he made sure to exhale the smoke away from you as a courtesy.

“I was nervous, I-I feel like I stand out so much in places like that… a piece that doesn’t fit, I stand out so awkwardly” You sighed, pouring how you felt without filter. Spike frowned slightly, you appeared to blend in so easily. Everyone seemed to like you. From the nerds to the jock-types. But he could tell you meant it. He identified with it held onto the idea you were like him. Clung to it with both hands.

“I get that, love, I’m always in the shadows. When people aren’t laughin’ they’re cowering” He shrugged as if it didn’t bother him but even in the state you were in, you could tell he wasn’t as cool about it as he pretended.

“You get lonely too? But you always have friends a-and the music… and sex” you mumbled, despite you already having the suspicion he wasn’t as fulfilled by these as he made out.

“Thing is, pet, that’s all well and good but it doesn’t change that when all’s said, I’m on my own by the end of the night. In mind or body. A connection, that’s what matters. Something real…” He shook his head as he realised he had revealed too much of himself.

You stared at him for a really long time as he said this, he glanced at you twice as you both walked in silence. He didn’t understand why you were staring. That you felt this so deeply. That a deep connection was all you had ever dreamed about.

“You know… I think that we could be friends... you know? You’re all dark and scary but your heart is… it’s soft really. I think I saw it and I like it. I like you… I think. When you-you’re not being a complete-”

“Alright, watch what you’re sayin’ or you’re not getting any kind of friend out of this” He warned, although he was smiling at the way you spoke. He had been feeling similar about you.

“Friends?” You asked, having caught what he said and wanting to confirm it. He looked at you, squinting for a moment. As if he was trying to check if you were playing some kind of practical joke. No, he decided. You were drunk and just running your honest thoughts.

He just nodded, looking away from you. You almost cheered when he nodded but opted for a more subtle smile. But he caught it and it meant more to him than he thought it would.

You then tripped over your own feet and overbalanced because of the way your head was spinning. You really had drunk a lot. He had to grab you by your middle again before you tumbled to the floor and lead you back to your shared home by taking on your weight.

He made sure that you were safe and in your bed. He had to move the piles of paper you had left there. Your writings. Thoughts, poems. He scanned his eyes over them, but the pages were a little blurry.

You flopped into the bed fully clothed. He took your shoes off for you before looked around your room, soaking up just how much of you was in such a small space. He found himself liking it. The smell. The colour scheme. Those books you never went anywhere without.

He pulled your bedclothes over you and used his hand to balance himself against the wall and leave to his own room. He couldn’t help smiling softly as he walked though, at the way you had asked so innocently. You really had wanted to be his friend. His mind was reeling. His opinion of you was beginning to change. And he was starting to actually acknowledge it.

In the weeks after, he began to grow more and more fond of you. It grew and creeped up on him in a way he wasn’t accustomed to.

You slowly began to have slightly longer conversations when you crossed paths. Starting after you thanked him for leaving water by your bed for when you woke up that night you got drunk.

You became animated in conversation and he caught himself watching you, genuinely listening. How had he missed how nice you were? How genuine your enthusiasm was?

He now knew the plot to several musicals and books despite having never heard of them before. Just as you knew a lot more about the origin of punk and the bands he loved so much. It was strange sharing these parts of yourself.

It could still be awkward at times and it wasn’t as if Spike had entirely changed his personality. He still lived the way he usually would. He just tried to mind you a lot more. He started to realise he wanted to be considerate of you. Where he definitely hadn’t before.

He sometimes saw you writing and nodded. You shared a small smile. Understanding each other in that sense. He even acknowledged you in public now. Sidling up to you so long as your group of friends weren’t around. He found his chest lifting when you spoke.

He wasn’t used to friends he actually got along with. Actually enjoyed spending time with. He usually tolerated people that felt the same way as him – those on the peripheries of the others. Or people that liked the same music.

You and he truly began to become friends. You find yourself genuinely enjoying his company. His silences weren’t filled with anger or resentment for you anymore. Your company wasn’t his only to berate the way he lived his life or cast judgement you had learned from your friends.

You genuinely started to get on. The first time you began to laugh at something together it made you smile for the rest of the day. He had replayed your conversation over in his mind. Your home life was getting so much better.

You both even started making use of the shared living space together. You began silently watching some dumb soap in the late afternoon (aka Spike’s breakfast time). He was eating Weetabix and suddenly got excited at what you were watching, throwing himself down beside you and taking the remote from your hands. He turned the volume up and settled in.

You were bemused, laughed a little which made him frown and look at you.

“What?” He asked with a mouthful of Weetabix as he caught that smile of yours.

“Nothing” You stifled a giggle and turned back to the tv. You weren’t trying to tease him you just hadn’t expected him to be so into the show. You would almost find it endearing.

The proximity and the natural way he had sat down beside you made you smile slightly too. All it had taken was some careful coaxing and he was already showing you more of himself.

He was beginning to grow on you. Maybe you really could be proper friends after all…

[blu-archer]

Let me help you..

Right. So I felt the need to attempt writing smut and sneeze inducing, so if this sucks I’m blaming it on the fact that I’ve never written this before. 

If you are under age, please don’t read this. While its not particularly hectic, it still is what it is.

Warnings: mature content. Very very mild language

Sickie: Jimin 

Caretaker: Yoongi 

-smut and fluff. 

-Also massages.

- I was bored and finished this at 2am.

Alternate universe - magic is real and Jimin is a hybrid.

Part 1 of this series.

Jimin moaned deeply, his eyes fluttering closed as a content purr filled the bedroom.

Yoongi smirked with the satisfaction of being responsible for his kittens reactions. He slid his hands up the hybrid’s smooth skin as Jimin began to squirm underneath him. Working his fingers into the hard, knotted muscles of Jimin’s upper back – smugly earning an even deeper moan of pleasure.

Yoongi tugged lightly on Jimin’s tail, aware of its sensitivities but only wishing to tease the hybrid while he had him pinned to the mattress beneath him. Jimin’s breath hitched but flicked his tail back, hitting Yoongi in the face as a form of scolding.

“I want you to feel nice, Kitten.” Yoongi answered innocently, leaning low to kiss the center of Jimin’s back.

Jimin shivered at the action, taking a deep breath before replying hoarsely. “We are not doing anything like that while I’m sick.”

“You would feel good..”

“This feels great as it is, Yoon.”

Yoongi trailed his kisses down the length of Jimin’s spine until he reached the base of his tail just coming just above the waist band of Jimin’s boxers, his hands still massaging into his boyfriend’s stiff muscles. Jimin mewled at the touches, his body betraying him and forcing him to shift awkwardly with shaky breaths as they started to move in the direction that he had very seriously stipulated not too.

Jimin flicked his tail at Yoongi again but he couldn’t bring himself to put in the same effort as before. Resulting in it falling weakly against Yoongi’s forearm. A slow heat was building through his body making him want to just melt into the sheets and as good as it felt, this paired with how Yoongi had laid him down was not helping his running nose. He was already running warm with small yet persistent fever, but this heat made him feel a different kind of weakness. One that Yoongi often enjoyed to-put him through. Yoongi worked his way down Jimin’s back once more, trailing his kisses in the opposite direction until he rested his lips against the cat’s scent gland.

“Yoongi.”

Yoongi bit down lightly on the gland, grazing it with his teeth which sent a strong enough sensation to tremble Jimin’s entire body. The younger broke out into a rough bout of coughing, reaching up to grab the closest pillow to cover so that he didn’t cough into Yoongi’s face. The warlock paused in his activities, not bringing himself to alert Jimin that he had grabbed Yoongi’s pillow to cough into – or remind the cat that they slept together and that he was probably going to get sick anyway, so there wasn’t much point in the wasted effort.

“Sorry.” Yoongi murmured, setting a final kiss to Jimin’s neck before moving off of him and sitting up. “Should I get you some tea?”

“N-no.” Jimin croaked. “Tired of tea.”

“Some warm water with lemon and ginger then.”

The hybrid pushed himself upright so that he sat next to Yoongi, leaning into the elder as he ran his wrist under his nose with a sniff. Yoongi put on arm over his shoulders, letting his hand trace along the cat’s collar bone. When he heard a light scoff, he looked at the hybrid with a raised brow only to see the cat glaring into his lap. Yoongi’s smirk from earlier returned as he saw what had annoyed his boyfriend.

“Stop it.” Jimin snapped without any real anger. “ I said no, and you continued anyway.”

“I thought it would help you. You’ve done it for me before.” Yoongi pressed a kiss to Jimin’s temple. “But I’m sorry I should have stopped… although since I’ve started and you’re clearly able…”

“No.” Jimin stated sternly with a wet sniffle, yet his brows pinched together in thought. As if he were at least contemplating the idea. “I should take a shower. A cold one.”

“Don’t.” Yoongi stood up and pulled the hybrid after him, making sure that one of his woolen sweaters was grabbed before leaving the room. “Come sit with me and we can watch movies. You said that you have been wanting to watch that animation again, the cat one.”

“The lion king?”

Yoongi nodded as he dropped Jimin’s hand once they had reached the kitchen, giving the younger a moment to pull on the white sweater – its length draping to his mid-thigh. He flicked his hand towards the kettle, automatically it rumbled to life as it got to reheating  the water.

“If you want to. I don’t want you taking any cold showers, we can deal with it in other ways my love.” Yoongi let his magic flow and a variety of a things were propelled into action. Knives went to work on chopping up a lemon and small section of raw ginger then moved on to cutting up various vegetables that would eventually be put into a broth for them later.

Jimin stretched his arms up as he failed to swallow back a yawn, almost immediately scrambling for a handful of tissues from the box set up on the circular dinner table that they rarely used for anything other Yoongi’s work – and that one time when Jimin had been too impatient to drag Yoongi back to their room…

Hih’igxeshh huh..ahh. huh’iiTTCHhiew…

Jimin let out a congested curse as he blew his nose, wincing at how tender his nose was. The blowing hadn’t eased any of the pressure in his sinuses and he was pretty sure that he was going to sound disgustingly blocked up for at least the rest of the day. Yoongi pulled two small boxed orange juices from the fridge and handed one to Jimin before aggressive stabbing a straw through the top of his own. The juices were typically targeted to kids, but the pair had never gotten out of the habit of buying them from when they had been studying.

Jimin secretly hoped they never stopped.  Their other friends often teased them about it but having the little juices always brought fond memories of times spent with Yoongi, back when they weren’t dating and had just been roommates in college trying to survive exams. They would go days without proper sleep or social interaction and there were times when food and water were not consumed as much as it should have been. Which, of course after both had found the other in moments that had scared them quite badly, the tradition of leaving random boxes of the juice and snacks in their separate areas of studying had begun.

“This shouldn’t take too long, let’s go sit down.” Yoongi encouraged, ignoring the glance Jimin made at him using his magic when he had originally said that he would need some time to recover and had agreed to lay off of the magic until then. Thankfully nothing was commented on and he gave a breathy laugh at how Jimin snatched up the tissue box and held it to his chest before moving to the lounge. “Do you want your glasses?”

“Yeah..” Jimin answered as he threw himself onto the small couch, burrowing into the soft throw pillows that Jungkook had given them after setting his juice aside. “Is Tae coming over today?”

“Tae?” Yoongi frowned. “Should he be?”

“It’s Monday… isn’t it your mentor day?”

Yoongi breathed out a heavy sigh as he found Jimin’s glasses on the counter where he had left them the night before.

It was in fact his day to mentor. He had completely forgotten. At least it was still early, the sun had barely risen, so Taehyung wouldn’t have just pitched up at the store to find that it hadn’t been opened. Yoongi would have to just send a message and tell him that he would cancel for the day.

“I’ll ask Namjoon if he can take him again.” Yoongi said and settled down beside Jimin’s head, letting the younger move up so that he rested on Yoongi’s lap.

“He’s not some file or spell casting that you can just hand off Yoon, just tell him to come by here a bit later than usual. I’ll probably be asleep for most of the day anyway.”

Jimin had a point.

He sent a quick text to the witch informing him that they would work in Yoongi’s private studio space at his house instead of the store. Taehyung wouldn’t question it – perhaps he would have even expected it. Yoongi wasn’t as unpredictable as he thought when matters included Jimin.

**

Jimin was restless.

Yoongi was almost sure that the hybrid had missed the entire beginning of the movie with how he shifted around; adjusting the pillows or removing the sweater he wore to make it into a blanket of sorts – and then into a pillow when he wasn’t satisfied, or getting up to find water and ending up dragging the duvet from their room to the couch.

When Yoongi thought the younger had finally settled down with his head resting on the warlocks thigh, Jimin began to shuffle beneath the blanket as if he just couldn’t find the right place to lie. His cute ears that Yoongi had been softly scratching, were drawn back in irritation and his tail flicked continuously against the cover.

“You okay?” He asked, looking down at the Calico’s flushed cheeks and annoyed pout.

Jimin let out a heavy puff of air, his eyes narrowed as he practically glared at the tv. Yoongi ran a hand gently down the nape of Jimin’s neck and traced along his sharp collar bone, smiling at the deep purr that started up before startling as Jimin pulled away. He was about to question the youngers actions when Jimin settled himself onto Yoongi’s lap. His pretty eyes were dilated, and his bottom lip pulled tightly between his teeth as he rocked forward, drawing Yoongi closer by putting his arms around his neck.

The warlock let out a low surprised chuckled but made no complaint against Jimin putting his lips to his jaw, beginning a journey of lingering kisses that made him shiver.

“I thought –“

“You started this.” Jimin muttered a bit hoarsely, but Yoongi couldn’t tell if it was from his cold or whatever the younger was chasing after. “Finish it.”

“You didn’t want to..” Yoongi shifted as Jimin rolled his hips hard against him.

The movie played on, music cheerfully flooding the room, yet Yoongi could barely hear it as he focused on the soft breaths and moans that Jimin let out into his mouth and neck. Yoongi’s breaths were quickly matching that of the hybrid, if not surpassing him as his body reacted to Jimin’s hands trailing his skin tenderly.

“Now.” Jimin panted out. “Now I do. Please… I can’t focus on anything else.”

Yoongi pushed Jimin off, keening at the low whine that quickly turned to a moan as he forced Jimin back into the soft cushions while he got to his knees in front of him. He pulled the blankets that had been tangled around Jimin’s legs away, taking note of his boyfriends light shivers and hooded eyes from behind his glasses.

Jimin wasn’t normally needy when it came to these private moments between them if anything he was usually the one to be in control. Seeing the hybrid lean his head back and paw at Yoongi’s shirt impatiently and letting the warlock do what he wanted to do to Jimin without complaint or direction was a blessing that Yoongi rarely got to witness. Even if it included Jimin’s mouth breathing, chapped lips and crimson tinged nose.

He was running his hands over Jimin’s tight dancer physique with almost featherlight touches only to grip and hold his hips down in place as he pushed up to try to create some type of friction. Yoongi left tender kisses on the soft inner skin of Jimin’s thighs taking his time while smiling at the soft sigh that left his boyfriend before Yoongi gradually moved an inch higher and suckled the skin there. He could feel Jimin carding his hands through his hair, giving soft tugs almost in time with his heavy breaths.

Once he felt that he had left enough marks there he pushed Jimin’s legs further apart so that he could climb and rest between them as he trailed kisses and hickeys up the hybrids torso – earning a quivering moan as he hovered and switched between nipples. Giving the sensitive buds extra attention as Jimin shivered and dug his nails into Yoongi’s shoulder. The warlock didn’t even have time to wonder if the hybrid was going to claw through his clothes, he could already feel the sharp points digging into his skin – varying in force every few seconds.

Yoongi had always delighted in the fact that his kitten was extremely sensitive when it came to skin contact, every moment was a chance to see how he would react to the most subtle of strokes or kisses. Jimin’s breath quickened as he arched to rub his body into Yoongi’s as much as possible, his body heating at the feeling of the elders own arousal pressed against him when the warlock nipped at the glands on his neck. Jimin moaned deeply, his nails moving to scrape against Yoongi’s scalp and his breath catching in his throat.

He growled as Yoongi caught the lobe of his ear with his teeth, which resulted in him turning to cough harshly to the side. Yoongi pulled back, settling down on Jimin’s lap as he did his best to ignore his own erection that fought against his sweatpants.  Yoongi slipped a tissue out of the box and rested it around Jimin’s nose and mouth, feeling his hot breaths hit his palm through the soft material as he coughed.

“Blow.” Yoongi said gently when Jimin had finally caught his breath.

“You blow.” Jimin flushed and pulled Yoongi’s hand away so that he could blow his nose himself. He wasn’t going to let Yoongi have to feel whatever grossness came out of him. Jimin blew his nose twice, but the heat that spread through his body was making his nose run and left him sniffling miserably.

“Is that what you want? Can I continue then?” Yoongi grinned as he leant closer and gently sucked at Jimin’s jaw when he didn’t hear an immediate complaint.

“Yoongi… You don’t have to. Maybe this is too much, I’m quickly realising how gross this is again.” Jimin murmured apprehensively, although his body thrived under the soft caressing touches.

Yoongi let out a breathy chuckle as he drew circles into Jimin’s v-line with his thumbs. “There isn’t a single thing about you that could possibly be gross, love. Lean back.”

Jimin shifted with an unusual amount of compliance. Yoongi merely smirked as he got to work at his boyfriend’s chest once more, priding himself at the low whines that vibrated out of Jimin. Slowly Yoongi ran a hand down between their bodies and slipped it smoothly beneath the boxer’s he had forgotten to remove to grasp at the base of Jimin’s dick. He smirked at the jolt that that trembled through Jimin’s entire body.

“Oh…” Jimin rolled his head back, his hips pushing against Yoongi’s hand with more force than he thought he could muster just then. He didn’t even bat an eye at the slick he could feel seeping out and no doubt ruining the couch. Yoongi didn’t even hesitate to start stroking at the achingly hard length, almost teasingly so, and Jimin could barely keep his pleasure contained, his body betraying his control as he shifted and mewled at the heat that coursed through him. “…ahhh… st-stop be-nnhgg.. ahh.. so-soft.”

“You want me to be harder?” Yoongi asked. His voice dipping low enough to spark a new wave of dizzying heat through Jimin even before the elder gathered some of the slick that had gradually begun to gush out of him before wrapping a strong yet tender grip around Jimin’s dick once more. Moving to pump him roughly.

“Fuck!”  Jimin cried hoarsely. His head slammed into Yoongi’s shoulder as he jerked up to meet the newly set pace, burying his face into Yoongi’s shoulder as he was driven closer to the edge.

The warlock bit at his cheek to try to bring his mind back to the present, controlling his own breathing before he drowned in Jimin’s whimpers and lewd pleas. Jimin hadn’t complained about his actions, but Yoongi couldn’t help but be mildly unsatisfied. Retracting his hand, earning sharp claws into his back as well as a hoarse whine, Yoongi moved down and yanked the boxers off of the hybrid in a hastily, swift motion. Jimin had just began to let out a low whine again when Yoongi took him in his mouth. The sounds that left them both were anything but soft and once again Yoongi was glad that their cottage was a relatively far distance away from their neighbours. He licked and sucked and hummed around the calico’s dick and the whimpers and cries set his blood alight.  It didn’t take much longer before the hybrid was spilling himself out, arching and thrusting up into Yoongi’s mouth as the elder swallowed as much as he could. He pulled back, white painting his lips as he returned his hand to milk Jimin dry, leaning up to kiss the hybrid’s gaping mouth as he did. Jimin was left a  panting and mewling mess in his boyfriends embrace, while Yoongi used the discarded boxer’s to briefly clean them off afterwards. That was definitely better than just watching ‘The Lion King’. Jimin would never be able to view the movie the same ever again.

“mmmngg…” Jimin lay a sloppy kiss into the curve of Yoongi’s neck before lightly coughing away into the air, too blissed to even try to lift up his arm to shield it.

“Content?”

Jimin gave another inaudible reply before stuttering off into a particularly vocal sneeze.

“Let’s shower, okay?” Yoongi said, flicking up his hand to shut off the movie that had still been playing. He was painfully hard, but he had expected nothing less from the sounds and reactions Jimin had been giving him. “Get cleaned up properly and eat before Tae arrives. Then you can get some rest.”

The hybrid sniffled and reached to tug at the hem of Yoongi’s pants, feeling too alone in his nudity, which caused the elder to chuckle tightly but not without affection.  He grabbed Jimin’s hands in his own and pulled him shakily to his feet.

“I don’t need any help. Let’s just get you in the shower, okay?”

There were no arguments from either of them. Even when Jimin decided that a second round was definitely in order.

**

“You should really air this place out.”

Yoongi startled at the voice, not having expected another person to be in his house. He had just finished getting food in Jimin and had gotten him to sleep, which had taken far longer than it should have and had resulted in some more deep massages to help his kitten relax. He hadn’t heard the front door open but seeing Taehyung rummaging around his kitchen shouldn’t have really surprised him. Perhaps his morning activities had sent him to a state of unawareness.

Thank god he had thought to set his magic down on cleaning their couch before leaving the room.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.” Taehyung swiveled to give a stern finger-pointing at the elder, it lost whatever effect he had tried to pull when Yoongi saw the strips of liquorice that dangled from the witches mouth. “This place smelt super musky. Its not good for Jimin to be in an unventilated area. The fresh air would do him better.”

Yoongi avoided eye contact, fearing that his smile would grow too wide if he kept looking at the witches stern disapproval. “I’ll keep that in mind. I thought he’d get cold. Should we get to work? I have a few spell books that I got in London that I thought would really benefit you.”

Taehyung grumbled lightly that his mentor should have ‘known better’ and that their roles should switch temporarily so that Yoongi could learn something about care giving from him instead. The warlock didn’t comment or correct Tae, merely laughed and waved him off as his mind tossed the vivid ‘helping’ details of his morning around in his thoughts.

It quickly became obvious that his heart wasn’t in the lesson that he should have definitely planned more for, and he realised that as soon as Tae accidentally set fire to a third of his sage collection. That was on him though, he should have known better to make an entirely clear space before letting Tae work on anything that had to do with the elements, and he should have been paying attention to what the younger was doing and saying in order to prevent such tragedies. It was entirely unprofessional to be so blatantly distracted, but Yoongi couldn’t seem to help it. A part of him kept wanted to run back into the main section of their little house – back to where Jimin was sleeping – so that he could check up on him. To see if he needed any tea, or some one to talk to, or play boards games with, or to see if he wanted Yoongi to comb his hair or scratch at his ears. Jimin loved having Yoongi scratch at his ears. And Yoongi loved doing it.

He'd missed so much in the months that he’d been gone, that the scents and the feeling of Jimin’s skin or hair or fur – the feeling of Jimin being close to him – he had almost forgotten what it was like, and he never wanted to even consider the thought of coming close to forgetting it again.

Taehyung had spent the next twenty minutes after the flames being a floundering, apologetic mess – even after Yoongi had tried to convince him that he wasn’t at fault and that Yoongi should have practiced some pronunciations with him first. His attempts didn’t seem to sink it. They both agreed on a break perhaps a bit too eagerly once they’d gone over a few pointers – Yoongi trying harder to pay close attention to Taehyung and the fine details that the witch still seemed to be getting wrong.

He let Tae help himself to some of the food that he’d made for Jimin earlier while Yoongi took the chance to peek into the bedroom to see if his boyfriend was still alright. And basically, just how Yoongi had left him, Jimin was curled into his side of the bed with the comforter pulled tightly to his body. His tri-coloured ears contrasted against the thick white sheets and seemed to be the only part of the hybrid that wasn’t completely under the blankets. As much has Yoongi wanted to go and pull them down to see the youngers face, he refrained. The soft, congested snores were enough to tell him that Jimin needed to sleep, so he dragged himself back to the kitchen and made himself the strongest brew of coffee he had to gain focus for the next few hours with his mentee.

Taehyung had just mastered a spell for plant growth and was gleefully trying to revive some of the things he’d damaged earlier when they heard the soft padding of feet coming from the entrance of the studio. They both paused in anticipation, their energy levels spiking until Jimin appeared in the section that they were in. Something in Yoongi’s chest melted like warm caramel at the sight of Jimin – he’d changed before leaving the cottage to join them in the small building outside that Yoongi had claimed as his studio space. Switching his sleep wear to a pair of Yoongi’s sweatpants as well the warlocks thickest jacket, even the hybrid’s tail was hidden beneath the warm layers. The extra padding as well as the broadness of the jacket made the hybrid appear even smaller than usual.

Jimin smiled shyly, bringing a tissue up to blow his nose before letting Taehyung bound over and hug him, his sleep-mussed hair flopping all over the place as Tae swayed him and picked him up to playfully pull him to his chest, quickly moving to ramble on about all that they’d done in the past hours that the witch had been there. Yoongi watched quietly from his high set stool, his hands fumbling around with some of the herbs he’d been planning on making charms with. He couldn’t help but notice the increase in Jimin’s sniffling. The hybrid seemed to be running a tissue under his nose every few minutes while earnest nodding to everything Tae was saying. His nose was an even brighter red than before and his eyes had that tired glazed-over look that made Yoongi think his boyfriend had only just woken up and had opted to find them straight away.

“I think I’ll be able to help Hobi’s little flower garden grow stronger. Both him and Kook have been so busy lately the maintenance of the garden has kind of downgraded a bit, and I’m usually not allowed to work with them ever since I forgot the sprinklers on that one time and drowned all the seedlings… but with this..”

Taehyung shrugged with enthusiasm, grinning widely at Jimin who was nodding along despite squinting with a somewhat dazed look. His nose scrunched up and he murmured a hasty apology before crumpling into his tissue with a desperate  sneeze that shook through his entire body. Taehyung lay a steadying hand on his friends shoulder as Jimin snapped forward once more, and again, giving a low groan and a disgustingly wet sniffle since his current tissue was no longer capable of use. Yoongi joined the hybrid’s side rather quickly after that, manifesting the box of tissues that he knew was inside their home so that Jimin could blow his nose again.

“I’b sorry.” Jimin glanced at Tae tired as he tried to rid himself of the congestion, only to find that the itch that had been bothering him was still there. Only this time it didn’t seem to want to progress further. “I was -snf- lis-listening.”

“I know.” Tae grinned and rubbed the calico’s back with nurturing intent. “Bless you.”

Jimin sniffed and scrunched his nose to try and wiggle the itch that had settled there out, but it didn’t seem to be working.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi asked softly. His hand gently tugging Jimin’s body closer to his own. With the way Jimin’s face had flushed and his eyes had turned watery, Yoongi didn’t think that he was done. “Did you just wake up?”

Jimin nodded, moving his hand to rub harshly at his nose causing his breath to hitch slightly but overall, accomplished nothing. “I ha-had a bad dre-hih-dream. snf.”

“My kitten.” Yoongi pulled him into his chest, squeezing him tightly. He could feel Jimin’s breath hitch against him and felt the rumbling groan of annoyance flood through Jimin’s body as he pushed his nose into Yoongi’s neck – seemingly no longer caring about possible contagion as Yoongi felt dampness on his skin. Although considering what they’d done that morning, Jimin probably had ruled that contagion was probably unavoidable. Jimin worked hard at trying to scent him, doing his best to try work away the ticklish feeling that left him feeling both crazy and drained, he could only whimper in annoyance.

“I ca-can’t sne-sneez-ah.. snf.”

“Sit down, Minnie.” Tae said, rubbing Jimin’s shoulders as the hybrid did as he was instructed, crumpling to the floor, desperate to try anything. “Yoongi… why… why don’t you try and coax it out. Hobi and I do it for Jungkook all the time during his allergies and colds.”

Yoongi hadn’t done it before. Jimin had always tried to do anything he considered ‘gross’ by himself, and this was usually one of those things. Yet looking down into his boyfriends teary eyes, Yoongi truly wanted to be the one to help him. Like he’d helped him that morning – well, not quite, not with Tae there, but the situation was somewhat similar. Control was being handed over.

Yoongi sat in between Jimin’s legs, grabbing a tissue and staring at it blankly before Taehyung instructed him to roll it to point – further explaining what he needed to do while Jimin coughed openly, his shoulders slumping forwards as Tae rubbed his back.

“Could you tilt back a bit, Love?” Obediently, Jimin leant back into Taehyung.

Carefully, Yoongi pushed the tissue into Jimin’s left nostril, gently nudging it around. At first Jimin merely looked uncomfortable and Yoongi was seconds away from pulling it out and trying something else – surely they had pepper or something – when he angled it and accidentally went deeper. Jimin’s expression changed to one that Yoongi was very familiar with as his breath hitch against Yoongi’s hand.

“Keep doing that and just wiggle it gently.” Taehyung encouraged.

Feeling quite studious, Yoongi pulled it out a little before returning it to that spot, giving the tissue a light wiggle. Jimin’s breath stuttered and hitched achingly until there were tears threatening to spill. Yoongi twisted the tissue with his finger and felt the sudden large inhale Jimin took before –

Heh’ ISHHTEWW! IP’SSHIEW! Hih’ih’ePISHH’uh!

Yoongi tried not to grimace – after all, the fluid that now coated his hand was a simple wash to get rid of, and his Love was clearly not feeling well enough to deserve any type of criticism – whether it was voiced or not. It wasn’t something he could fault the hybrid for. Yoongi merely grabbed for more tissues, pulling the now crumpled mess of an inducing tool out of Jimin’s nose, only to catch the next bundle neatly with his freshly tissued hand.

Yoongi murmured a soft ‘bless you’ each time Jimin was forced forward into his hand until finally the hybrid was halted into soft, tired panting. Taehyung made a comment about going to put tea on in the house and left them, leaving a soft scratch on Jimin’s head.

Yoongi took his time making sure Jimin was finished and clean before he wiped off his own hand, feeling Jimin’s unfocused gaze drawn to his actions.

“This,” Jimin cleared his throat as his voice cracked. “This is not how I hoped today would go. I’m sorry that must have been –“

“It was fine. Interesting actually.” Yoongi reassuring with a hint of amusement. “Your facial expressions were definitely something that will visit my dreams.”

Jimin’s red cheeks turned an even brighter shade as the hybrid smacked his boyfriend’s chest with a breathy laugh. “I really needed to sneeze. It felt really good.”

“I’m glad.” Yoongi placed a kiss on Jimin’s cheek. “I’ll do it again if you even need me too.”

“My saviour.” Jimin huffed with a strong sniff.

Remembering what Jimin had stuttered before, Yoongi ran a hand through the youngers hair, leaning in closer to stare directly into Jimin’s eyes so that he knew not to divert anything that was asked of him.

“What was your bad dream about?”

Jimin froze and then chuckled tightly, looking down into his lap. “It was stupid, looking back on it. I just felt really alone. It was like you weren’t with me anymore and everything was just really cold and dark, so when I wo-woke – hih’igtshh’uh ugh snf –“ Jimin burrowed into a tissue, making his voice muffled slightly. “When I woke up I had to find you, just to make sure.”

Yoongi frowned as he stroked through Jimin’s hair. Perhaps that trip that he’d gone on had done more harm than he’d originally thought. He didn’t want Jimin to ever think that he would be able to leave him. It just wasn’t possible.

“You know I love you, right? With every essence of my soul, I love you. I wouldn’t be able to function without knowing that you are alright, without having you by my side.”

Jimin nodded, but the smile didn’t reach his tired eyes.  “I know. I promise I know. And I love you so much. You are so stupidly lovable. It was just a bad dream. I always have you with me.”

Jimin pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s lips, deepened it momentarily before frantically breaking away to sneeze a double down into Yoongi’s chest.

“Argh… sorry about that. I think this entire thing is taking turns between moving to my head and chest.” Jimin leant forward into Yoongi, resting his head on his boyfriends broad shoulder.

“C’mon.” Yoongi patted him when he had started to fall asleep. “Let’s get you back inside and warm. Tae has probably finished making tea by now. You can drink it with him before I toss him out.”

Jimin hummed with a lack of interest.

“And some more medicine will probably be helpful.”

Jimin’s hum turned to a much more agreeable tone.

“Maybe I’ll even rub some of my herbal ointment on you.” Yoongi said with low teasing pitch. “I’ll be extra useful and massage all these stiff muscles of yours.”

That got Jimin laughing. His eyes crinkled before he kissed Yoongi again, wrapping his arms tightly around the elder.  Yoongi managed to stand and support his boyfriend as the younger clung onto him to be carried, making sure he was sturdy before making the short work in the cold to get back to the house. He could feel Jimin’s face against his neck, hiding from the chill as he sniffled, but Yoongi could feel the smile on the youngers face as he pressed a kiss to Yoongi’s neck.

And it must have been contagious, because when Yoongi felt the familiar scratch of teeth where the scent gland on his neck should have been, followed by a gentle press of lips, it was impossible to stop his own smile from spreading.

[homeformyheart]

hi, if you’re still taking angst prompts, how about 4. “Get out of here! Just leave!” for whichever of your twc pairings inspires you?

thank you ginger for this one! (and for suggesting adina.) this one definitely got away from me and turned into a full fic because of the scenario I wanted to write xD.

author’s note: thank you for the request, @gingerbreton! writing in present tense was definitely weird, but hopefully the vibe i was going for still works. i was definitely feeling the angst in this one – an AU (to my AU i guess) where my detective turns but their immortal spouse dies protecting them. grab some tissues, turn off that sad music, and enjoy! copyright: all characters, except the oc detective, are owned by mishka jenkins @seraphinitegames. series/pairing: the wayhaven chronicles – adam du mortain x f!detective (regina bishop) rating/warnings: 16+; major character death, grief, descriptions of physical pain and violence/fighting based on/prompt: OTP angst prompts // 4. “Get out of here! Just leave!” (in bold) and inspired partly by “dancing with your ghost” by sasha sloan word count: ~2.3k summary: an all-or-nothing stand-off between the agency against the rogues and trappers threatens regina’s turning process.

forever is just a word

it burns.

every fiber and tendon in her body overflows with hissing lava.

melting the pathways as it flows through her veins and igniting everything it touches.

veins attempting to fuse her mutated blood with searing venom.

a scream rips from her throat and reverberates against the walls.

at least, regina thinks it’s her pain echoing around her.

she can’t tell over the thundering in her eardrums and the sound of seams ripping inside her body.

everything is a foggy haze except for the tears streaming down her cheeks.

her mind wonders if she realizes she is being torn apart and burned alive.

except her skin is icy to the touch.

not that anyone is around to know that.

the fire continues to roil and spread, inching up and across her body until it molds around her heart.

and pierces it.

her fingers fly to her chest to dig her nails into the center, breaking skin and leaving red-stained crescent moons dotted below her collarbone.

and then the cold creeps in, following the path burned before it and pricking her body with thousands of icy needles.

stitching the seams and tears slowly and painfully back together.

before the pain finally recedes and all that is left is silence.

and regina opens her eyes.

the fluorescent lighting burns white-hot.

the slow beeping of a computer is shrieking in her ears.

she’s alive.

meanwhile, in the thick of the forest near the facility

adam stands at attention, hands clasped behind his back, surveying the situation with a scrutinizing eye.

ever the soldier.

except his eyes are shaking with fear, dark pupils almost edging out the green.

he knows this could be it.

their last stand.

his gaze sweeps to his right and then to his left, shoulders tensing as he counts, assesses, and runs through the odds and tactics in his head.

“just hand the detective over and no one has to get hurt,” a sinister voice rings loudly across the clearing from deep within the mass of humans and rogue supernaturals.

traitors. in every sense, philosophical and physical.

outnumbering every unit, tactical agent, and combat-ready member – supernatural or not – that the agency could pull together at the last minute.

“we know you’ve turned her. this is your last warning. hand her over, now.”

the air hums and prickles with electricity from hundreds of charged prods and batons, as the rogue supernaturals ease into their offensive stances.

a few find their way into the air and into the trees.

adam bristles but feels similar sensations vibrating in the air from his team and unit alpha on either side of him. at least he’s not alone.

he frowns briefly at the thought that regina may wake up alone, when (and he refuses to think otherwise) she survives.

“what’s going on? adam?”

he whirls around so fast he’s sure lesedi and nate heard the air around him crack. he runs over and wraps his arm around her waist to hold her steady, and she briefly closes her eyes to ease the dizziness and sudden sensitivity to everything around her.

“you survived,” he breathes, relief evident in his voice and every line in his face.

she smiles and tiptoes to kiss him softly before pulling back. “i promised i’d come back to you.”

adam brings her into his chest and buries his face in her neck, closing his eyes and trying to fill his heart with memories of her heartbeat, scent, and body against his.

“you must go,” he says hoarsely before pulling away. “this is going to be a fight unlike anything any of us have ever seen. you have to be safe.”

regina steps back and surveys the clearing, eyes widening at the stand-off. she knows everyone can see her. every eye, every weapon, every formation, is trained on and directed at her.

her gaze meets farah’s teary-eyed and relieved one, morgan’s piercing and confident one, and nate’s sympathetic and fearful one to her left before her body tenses at the determined and soft looks from unit alpha to her right.

“this is insane. we’re incredibly outnumbered, let me help,” she says once her voice seems to return to her. “adam, i’m not human anymore.”

he pulls back to meet her gaze and her breath catches at the soft green of his eyes. “you have only just turned. it is too dangerous and i will not risk losing you.”

“i’m not leaving you. i’m not leaving the team,” she argues, the intensity in her voice matching the defiant look in her eyes. “you know i can fight.”

he takes a few steps away and begins to pace, fists clenched. he knows that at any moment the rogues can attack now that regina is exposed. his muscles bulge with tension and she briefly wonders at how his shirt is still intact. adam can feel the fear clawing up his spine, across his chest, and catching in his throat before he whirls around to face her.

“you do not understand how dangerous this is. get out of here! just leave!”

he moves in real-time until he is just a hair’s breadth away, canines protruding and eyes flashing angrily. regina blinks, a little jolted by the fact that his speed is no longer too fast for her to see. he grabs her arms and starts pushing her back toward the facility.

“it will all be for nothing if they get to you!”

regina almost recoils at the volume of his voice and the tormented fear in his eyes. she twists out of his grasp and grabs his wrists, pushing them down and away from her body.

“i can’t lose you,” she yells back.

he breaks – she can see it – his eyes fold and brows scrunch in anguish and fear.

she reaches out to touch his cheek. he leans into the warmth of her touch, eyes fluttering half-closed before he pulls away.

“farah,” he says, pulling away from her touch. regina looks over and sees elidor following close behind.

“don’t do this adam. don’t leave me,” she pleads, voice cracking and tears welling in her eyes.

“i will always fight my way back to you, my love,” he murmurs, leaning down to briefly press his lips to hers. she leans in to deepen the kiss, but he’s already pulling away. “be safe. please.”

gentle hands on her arms hold her back and her eyes widen in fear. elidor wraps his arms tightly around her, holding her firmly against his chest and no amount of thrashing or kicking can loosen his hold.

“no, i can fight. i’m a vampire now, too. let me go! let me help,” her cries are desperate and loud and adam can hear every word echo in his ears.

“i am sorry, detective. it’s too dangerous, even for newly turned vampires. you don’t have control over your physical abilities yet and that makes you an easy target,” elidor says, half-dragging, half-carrying her back toward the facility with farah following closely.

“farah, please, don’t do this. you know that i need to be out there with you all,” regina begs as adam’s retreating back gets smaller.

“this is beyond you, babe. none of us want to lose you. please trust us,” farah murmurs, gently stroking regina’s cheek with her thumb.

the two vampires hold each other’s gaze, an entire conversation silently passing between them, before farah gives her a brief nod and runs back to join the team.

regina’s knees buckle and elidor lets her fall to the ground, arms still wrapped around her shoulders. she can’t shake the feeling in her gut that everything is about to go sideways.

with loud growls and roars from every direction, the rogues attack first in a wave of shimmery magic and blurring movements. grunts and shouts from the agents fill the air, but it’s clear the agency is not nearly as prepared. commanding agents across units are shouting conflicting orders to their teams and the trappers make quick work of separating agents from each other in a second wave.

even in the frenzied mess of bodies, her vampire sight zeroes in on adam, fighting back-to-back with farah against a dozen trappers. nate and morgan are barely holding their own against a horde of demons and their prod-wielding handlers. electricity thrums in the air, snapping erratically at both sides.

with every group that falls, three more seem to step into their place. regina pales as she realizes that the rogues outmatch them in every way. they move in quick, synchronized waves and aren’t holding back. her loved ones are vulnerable and the fight is quickly converting the peaceful clearing in which she spent many moments with unit bravo into a bloody battlefield.

but then she sees unit alpha and agent fuller move with ungodly speed and with a series of quick, coordinated attacks, lay waste to an entire wave of trappers and rogues. they move to aid unit bravo, easily slotting into formation as though the units always fight side-by-side.

but their opponents still outnumber them.

and the world slows to a painful crawl.

supernatural creatures of all sizes begin to corner each agent and cut them off from each other. regina holds her breath as she watches tamiko and maaka get carried away by a winged creature, tane and lesedi chasing and leaping quickly after them while fending off half a dozen trappers.

she’s lost sight of agent fuller. which means unit bravo is alone again.

a pack of werewolves growl and snap at the vampires and her stomach lurches as adam positions himself in front of his team, angling his body so he’s directly in front of farah. the wolves shift and draw themselves to their full height, easily towering over nate and morgan.

and then they attack. she can barely tell apart the team’s growls from the pack’s, the wolves outnumbering the vampires five-to-one. and given that sunlight is still filtering through the trees, she can tell they’re not healing fast enough to keep up with the barrage of teeth biting everywhere. she keeps scanning the mass of bodies while holding her breath, trying to keep tabs on the team – and then she freezes.

a group of wolves advance on farah as she steps backwards towards where nate and morgan are fending off their own group until the three of them are surrounded. and despite the worry clawing in her throat for their safety, her eyes are frantically searching for the person she gave up everything for.

he’s fighting his way through a stream of fallen bodies towards his team. blood and scorch marks mar his pale skin, and his steps are heavy as his boots crunch through flesh and fur and bone.

a scream rips its way out of her throat at the sight of supernaturals advancing towards him, accompanied by a half-dozen trappers with electric prods crackling in his direction.

“adam, behind you!”

and then she’s running – not even registering that she broke out of elidor’s grasp – and the world blurs around her as she speeds along.

fire rips through her body, but this time, the pain spurs her forward and her vision tunnels, centering around adam’s fallen form.

rage and fear intertwine in her chest and expand outward into her limbs and an unfamiliar, feral cry leaves her throat as she shoves her body through the blockade, grabbing anyone attempting to stop her and tossing their bodies aside. she screams at the electric prods digging into her stomach as arms wrap around her limbs, but she bites down with her canines until the blood-curdling screams filling the air are not her own.

she tears the flesh of her assailants apart and they fall back, howling in pain and running in fear, their weapons dropping to the ground. her own body is a blur as she attacks each of the remaining trappers, pulling their arms out of their sockets and shoving them back deep into the forest, the resulting sound of wood splintering already fading in her mind.

the remaining trappers panic and abandon their attack, tripping over strewn bodies as the rest of the units push the rogues back as well. nate and morgan are sitting on the ground, breathing heavily as their bodies begin to heal but farah is limping towards her.

regina doesn’t notice. the adrenaline is already receding, and she collapses to the ground, the smell of blood and sweat filling her nose and leaving a metallic taste in her mouth. she crawls over to adam’s still body, tears streaming down her face as she realizes he’s not breathing.

“no, no, no, no, no!”

she throws herself over his body and lays her ear to his chest and fingers against his wrist, breaking down into hysterical sobs when she can’t hear anything. and she knows she should be able to – she can still hear the damn chirping of birds in the distance and the anxious thrum of the team’s heartbeats.

“no, you gave me your word. please,” regina screams in-between sobs, pulling adam into her lap and cradling his head against her chest. “you said you’d come back to me.”

a pair of arms wrap around her waist and hold her as she cries, murmuring things she can’t register into her hair. she barely registers nate and morgan lifting adam’s lifeless body, forcing her to stand and walk alongside him. her grip around adam’s shoulders only tightens and she pulls away from farah’s attempt to hold her up.

she doesn’t see the three of them exchange sorrowful looks before they move slowly towards the facility. tears continue to stream down regina’s face onto the hand that is clutching adam’s shirt as though it might make him wake up and reprimand her for ruining another one.

“you promised me forever,” she whispers, the rest of her sobs strangling in her throat.

from these OTP angst prompts (always accepting)

* * * * * taglist: @kelseaaa; @kat-tia801; @anotherbeingsworld; @crackerdumortain; @gloynporslen; @sosolenoo; @alyssalauren; @fhauvilles; @wayhavenots; @gingerbreton; @takemyopenheart; @pearlsandsteel; @writer-ish;

[thirstystarkey]

HATE CAN SOUND LIKE LOVE • JJ MAYBANK

Summary: JJ and Y/N have always fought, since everyone can remember. They both have short tempers and a endless love for surf and chaos. But what happens when they have to pretend to be a couple? Well.. people always said that hate can sound like love sometimes.

Warnings: Mention of underage drinking, drugs, minor violence, some smutty scenarios and a ton of sexual induendos, JJ being a hot idiot and Y/N a wild girl brat

CHAPTER 20

Ever since that night JJ paid much more attention to Y/N, like he couldn’t get enough of her. Y/N felt it too, seemed like something changed deep inside of her, she wanted JJ but the fear of JJ leaving her as soon as they got physical also haunted her because almost every guy she knew did the same, they always left and for the first time Y/N didn’t want JJ to leave, she wanted to be involved in the chaotic mess his life was so much that she didn’t even remember the deal of pretending to be a fake couple to piss the pogues.

“Did you hear anything I said?” Kiara snapped her fingers in front of her, getting her attention.

“What?” Y/N asked confused. Her mind roamed since the beginning of the conversation.

“She was thinking about banging JJ.” Sarah laughed pushing Y/N back.

“Stop!” Y/N whined feeling her cheeks turn red. Sarah was right, that was the only think Y/N thought in the last few days. “What did you said Kiara?” Y/N added, turning to Kiara.

“I said a lot of things miss.” Her friends teased. “But I was talking about the party, tonight. At John B’s chateau, to celebrate JJ being out of jail.” Kiara explained for the second time.

“Ohh.” Y/N said. “I’ll be there of course.” She laughed.

“Planning on disappearing with JJ?” Kiara asked slyly.

“I’m not telling anything!” Y/N laughed.

They spent their afternoon like together enjoying some girl quality time before it was time to head to John B’s where the boys were and the other pogues of the island.

The house was full and red cups started to appear all over, some knocked over and others just left in the ground. A fire was lit in the backyard keeping everyone warm and creating a cozy atmosphere. Everyone sang and danced to crappy music having the time of their lives away from the kooks.

“Y/N!” John B screamed. “You will love this next song!” She laughed turning Criminal by Britney Spears on.

JJ let his head fall backwards as he smoked one blunt laughing at the choice of song. He had his arms around Y/N shoulders who sat in the middle of his legs.

“I swear to god John B!” Y/N tried to be serious but eventually she cracked laughing.

“But mama I'm in love with a criminal and this type of love isn't rational, it's physical!” Pope sang along with Kiara, already drunk.

Once the song was over the attention dispersed from Y/N and JJ to other things around them, which Y/N was grateful for since every time some looked at them she knew they were questioning themselves about the strange bound formed by the enemies.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” JJ asked, getting Y/N attention who eagerly nodded her head yes making him giggle. “C’mon lets go.” He held her hand, steeping away from the fire discretely.

Once they were away from the crowd of drunk teenagers JJ signed pushing Y/N against him by her hips. He looked down before kissing her lips in a sweet slow shared kiss who left Y/N panting when they broke it off for air. Her hands were planted on his chest carressing his skin through the fabric.

“I got a surprise for you.” JJ whispered in her lips.

“What?” Y/N asked through a bright smile.

“It’s inside.” JJ said with a slight smile, curving his lips upwards.

“John B locked the house.” Y/N laughed.

“And I got the keys right here.” He got the keys from his back pocket, swinging the shine metal in front of her.

“You never learn.” Y/N mocked pushing him away.

JJ unlocked the door, making sure he locked it once they were inside so no drunk teenager would step inside and mess everything. He grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her into his room giggling in the process.

“What’s going on JJ?” Y/N asked curious with all the mystery.

“A surprise Y/N!” JJ whined looking for something in his room, she sat on his bed waiting for him.

Once JJ got what he was searching for he showed Y/N another pair of keys, this time boat keys, making her even more confused.

“You stole a boat?” Y/N said arching her brow.

“Oh my god, no!” JJ laughed sitting beside her. “I borrowed it okay! I wanna take you out tomorrow, just us and the open ocean. We can even go to that abandoned island.” He suggested proudly watching her face light up. “I realized I never actually took you out in a proper date so I thought of this. Do you like it?” JJ asked afraid of rejection.

“JJ I fucking love this!” Y/N said excited while she threw herself at the blond boy, hugging his broad shoulders. “I’m so happy, I can’t wait for tomorrow JJ.” Y/N whispered into his neck, smirking as his skin got goosebumps.

“I will protect you from the sharks.” He joked pulling Y/N into his lap, both legs around his thighs.

Y/N had a big smile on her face as she pulled away from his shoulders, looking at his features before she caressed his bruised cheek, placing loving kisses all over them.

“JJ, I’m extremely grateful.” She whispered in his lips before kissing them slowly. “So, so grateful.” JJ had a smile on his lips as she whispered the words kissing him immediately after in a playfully manner.

“You can show me tomorrow how grateful you are.” JJ said lowly sending shivers down her spine, winking after.

Y/N laughed pushing his chest back which made JJ fall into the pillows, he had a slight smirk on his lips watching her from beneath her as Y/N lowered herself down on him, until his chest was pressed against hers. Her hands played with his hair sometimes pulling on it which made JJ breath heavily.

His hands traveled down her spine to her hips, surrounding her figure in a tight grip that made Y/N let out a breathy moan.

“You look gorgeous tonight.” He said kissing her naked shoulder since the strap of her dress fell a bit. “You look so so good, I couldn’t stop looking at you out there.” He admited moving his hands underneath her dress as he dragged his digits through her soft skin squeezing her ass.

Y/N moaned at the touch, pulling away from his lips. Her hair fell around their hands, creating almost a golden dome due to the light from outside contrasting with her ginger hair.

“You can look all you want now.” She whispered sultry.

“Fuck..” JJ whined to himself, sitting up against the headboard securing her back.

Tag list 💞

@thatsonobx @starkeybaby @this-is-bigger-than--us @tomzfrog @alotbnouf @jj-maybank-stan @jellyfishbeansontoast @rafecamerondeservesbetter @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @tembo-ndoto @poguebx @k-k0129 @kieinred @obxmxybxnk @lcil123 @fandom-phaser @sexualparkour @myrandom-fandomlife @lasnaro @sw-eat-ing @kiarascarreras @jjswhore @milamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @write-from-the-heart @justcallmesams @annedub @drizzlethatfalls @tovvaf @drewswannabegirl @whoreforouterbanks @newhopenessie @maybebanks @poguesrforlife @shawnssongs @wastedheartcth @rudyypankow @danicarosaline @sc4rlettm @hufflepeople @punkrainbows @obliviatevamps @trustfundparker @annoylinglyaries @sexytholland @5am-cigarette @majoroof @ilovejjmaybank @aheadfullofskies @jjmeybank

[inkandpen22]

Beautiful Angel of Darkness (8/8)

Pairing: Spike x Female!Reader

Warnings: Mild fluff 

Word Count: 1.5k 

Part Summary: Y/N falls apart after Spike disappears again and can’t find the way back until something snaps Y/N out of it

A/N: FINAL PART!!! Woohoo the first end to one of my series! I hope you all enjoy :)

Masterlist

A week later... 

Emptiness. All I feel is emptiness. For the last six months, I've been running toward finding my new purpose in this life. Then, one day Spike appears and knocks me off course. The walls and foundation I built grumbled into nothing. I am nothing. I feel nothing. In his absence, I'm nothing. 

There's a knock on my front door for which I ignore. 

"Y/N!" I hear Angel call from the other side of the door. "Y/N, answer the door." 

For the last week, I've laid in my bed waiting for some absolution. I stare out my window from dusk until dawn, yet nothing happens. Upon my silence, Angel wiggles the nob to learn that it was unlocked the whole time. He storms into my apartment calling my name until he appears in the doorway to my bedroom. 

"Y/N, no one has heard from you in days," he sighs as he approaches my bedside. 

My eyes remain fixated on my window. I watch as the branches on the tree wave in the wind, leaves fall from it with each passing breeze. Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, Angel releases a deep sigh. 

"Spike returned to Sunnydale," he tells me quietly. 

"I know," I speak for the first time in days. 

"He...um... " Angel stammers as he reaches into his coat pocket to reveal a piece of paper. "He stopped by the office before he left a few days ago. He wanted me to give you this. I was reluctant but Fred insisted." 

Gently, he places the folded-up paper on the edge of my bed beside my hand. I don't react, instead, I remain as I am, as I've been for the last few days. 

Angel brushes his hand over my cheek and rises from my bed. "I'm here if you need me," he assures quietly. He starts toward the door but stops in the archway. "He's not worth your pain, Y/N," he mutters over his shoulder. "I'll be back later to check on you." 

Once I hear him enter the hall, I lift the piece of paper and begin to unfold. Soon, Spike's handwriting is revealed on the small parchment. It's evident it was a last-minute decision, being on an official Wolfman & Hart labeled paper. 

My Love, 

I leave Los Angeles without you with great despair, a sense of pain I haven't felt in centuries. You are my dark angel. I'm nothing without you. My soul belongs to you. 

I will love you always and forever. 

Yours, 

Spike 

Memories flash across my mind like seconds of light. My entire human life was superficial and ordinary. Then, I met Spike and I felt instantly that he was my dark angel sent to lead me through life.  One, in particular, stands out to me, the moment I knew wholeheartedly that I was where I was meant to be. 

“Okay, one more time,” he so kindly does it again. 

I huff, growing slightly frustrated that I’m missing it and losing my streak. 

An IL word, how hard can it be? 

“Is it a phrase?” I question aggressively. It’s the one solution. 

He hums, a mischievous smirk appearing on his lips. 

To help me figure it out, I begin to name the letters out loud. 

“I, L, O, V…” I stop saying them, but Spike continues writing out the letters. 

Slowly, I turn onto my side and Spike’s hand slides to my waist. A faint smile remains on his lips as he brings his fingers to my temple and brushes my hair back. His eyes search my face with such admiration. 

“I love you,” he reveals quietly between us. 

A breathless laugh escapes my lips as I leap to wrap my arms around him. He falls onto the bed with laughter. I climb on top of him, utterly exploding with happiness. 

“You love me?!” I question for positivity. 

He snickers, amused by my reaction. “Don’t believe me?” 

He sits up, resting against the headboard, and grips my waist. “Yes, Y/N, I love you! I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you!” 

I cup his face, pressing my lips to his. I can’t help but smile against the kiss. I want to make this moment last forever. I break away, realizing I haven’t said it back yet. 

“Oh! I love you too! I love you so much!” I rush out. 

He smiles brightly, “I was hoping you would.” 

His hand wraps around the back of my neck and he brings me in for a gentle kiss. I’ve fallen under his spell, he’s utterly immaculate. Every moment with him is magical. I want to make up for every minute we spent apart before we met. As long as Spike’s mine, nothing bad can ever happen to us. 

We rest our foreheads against one another, starring at each other’s eyes. 

“From now until forever,” he promises me. 

“Forever,” I repeat the vow, meaning it wholeheartedly. 

God, I love him so much. My entire world is him. He’s the sun, the moon, everything. I will love him for eternity. 

As if resurrected and given a second chance, I rise from my bed and hurry to get dressed. I gather a bag of a few items that I can fit and rush down the hall to my living room. When I get out there, Angel is sitting in the armchair on the phone. When he sees me enter the room, he hangs up quickly. 

"Y/N?" He first says with confusion, then with seriousness. "Y/N! Where are you going?" He urgently questions as he flies up from his position. 

"Sunnydale." I grab my keys off the side table and march toward the door. 

Angel follows me like a shadow to the door as I swing it open. "Are you crazy?!" 

I chuckle wickedly and glance over my shoulder at the vampire. "Absolutely mad," I wink as I walk off. 

_______________________________________

From atop the mausoleum, I watch as Spike returns from the Bronze. Even after almost a year, Spike hasn't changed his routine. I suppose I should be thankful since it made locating him much easier. He walks with a sense of gloom about him, instead of the usual confidence and lack of care. I smirk as I leap down from the roof onto the leaf-covered grass. Spike halts and whips his head around to investigate the sudden thud. I linger in the shadows and out of sight to his annoyance. 

"Who's there?!" He barks and awaits a response as he spins around. When he doesn't receive one, he huffs. "Whoever it is, it's Halloween! Take the night!" 

He starts to march off toward his tomb and I follow a few yards behind. It's sort of ironic now that I think about it. He must've done this when we first met. He hunted me like prey, lingering in the shadows. I felt his presence and now he feels mine. It's funny how the roles have reversed. He found me and now I must find me. 

"I said back off!" Spike snaps as he stops dead in his tracks. "We don't hunt on Halloween!" 

"That's a shame," I chuckle lightly as I hide. "Halloween was always my favorite..." 

"Y/N?" Spike mutters to himself, unsure if it's real. 

I emerge from behind a nearby tomb and approach him stealthily. His crystal eyes meet mine in awe. 

"Here I am," I smirk. 

"What are you doing here?" He questions quietly. 

I circle him with a mischievous grin as he did when we first met. Our little game of cat and mouse continues, except this time I'm the big bad cat. 

"Some blonde, problematic, North London vampire left me this note, would you happen to know anything about that?" I tease. 

I stand behind him, gliding my fingertips across his back. He inhales sharply with a hiss at my touch. The reaction makes me giggle. 

"Perhaps," he answers, his voice a tad shaky. 

"I read it. Quite short, but there was something about it...The words made something snap inside my head. It was like I was dreaming and rose again," I describe the experience. 

"Is that so?" He plays along and I can feel his body relax. 

"It was like someone turned on a light." I pause to whisper in his ear, "a sweet cure." 

"And now?" He presses, filled with curiosity. 

I step to stand before him and I meet his beautiful eyes directly. They've haunted me for months and I finally have them starring into mine again. 

"Nothing else matters," I tell him. 

Hesitantly, he reaches up and caresses my cheek with furrowed brows. "You've come back to me?" 

I nod, leaning into his touch. 

"I've always loved you," he confesses breathlessly. 

"I know... and I never stopped," I confess softly in return as my eyes fall shut to ponder the sensation of his hand. 

"You and me forever?" He questions urgently as he cups my face. 

I nod gently and bring my hand to cover his. "All time." 

The edge of his lips curves upward to a light smirk as he leans down and brings them to meet mine. I'm electrified by the feeling and am reminded that my place in the world is with him. For all eternity. 

________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @currently-obsesed-with-spike​ @mx-pibbles​ @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard​

[angrylizardjacket]

dirtbags // 5: Charlotte

Summary: High School AU. 1985. Winter. Charlotte and Razzle are officially not dating, while Lola’s not dating someone but won’t say who, though she’s contemplating sleeping with Tommy in an effort to get him to stop pining for her, which Charlotte thinks is a terrible idea. Except that Charlotte lets slip to Tommy that that’s Lola’s plan, and he doesn’t take it well. The whole pack ends up at the Drive-In, which is going great for Charlotte and Razzle right up until Nikki decides to be an ass, and Charlotte realises that Tommy has spoken to Lola about their fight. It looks like things will be getting worse before they get better.

A/N: 6655 words. long overdue sorry!! @misscharlottelee and @evaangelics my beloveds this is, as always, for you both. ft. asofterworld quotes

my sister and i both hate antique shopping. but we love hating things together.

So yes, technically Charlotte and Razzle spent the better part of Heather’s party in a dark corner being altogether gross, as an incredibly drunk Peach had informed them both before she was pulled away by a far more sober Vince, which Charlotte hadn’t thought much of at the time, herself more than a little tipsy, but hearing Eileen rant in the diner the following day had made her feel a little guilty for not paying more attention. Not that anything bad happened, but still, she felt partially responsible for the young ginger girl. 

But the point is that Charlotte and Razzle are not dating, despite what everyone in their weird and ragtag bunch of lunchtime delinquents likes to imply. If Charlotte could justify punching Nikki again, she absolutely would. It’s not her fault that Razzle’s interesting and kind and honest and funny, and if she finds herself feeling a little heady, a little good-nauseous, like she had back when she and Duff had first been dancing around the idea of being a couple, she pushes those feelings to the back of her mind and distracts herself with something, anything else. 

Right now, she’s got a terrible headache and is having a whisper argument with Lola in the middle of art, trying to talk her out of pity-fucking Tommy.

“You make it sound so crass and heartless,” Lola’s lip curled, frowning at the red pencil in her hand and the cartoon drawing of a flower in her notes, “pity-fucking,” the word sounds wrong on Lola’s lips, tone derisive, “you say it like I don’t care about him.”

“Don’t pity-fuck my cousin, you can both do better,” Charlotte rubs at her temples, eyes closed, as Lola makes a noise like she’s not too sure if that’s a compliment, “a few weeks ago, you promised me you were just friends -”

“He’s a hopeless romantic who keeps hearing about cheerleaders sleeping with people who aren’t him, lemme put him out of his misery -”

“By fucking him? What if he catches further feelings for you?”

“I dunno, I’ll kill him?” Lola suggests flippantly, and when Charlotte cracks her eyes open to level a glare at Lola, the dark haired girl is grinning, clearly joking.

“Why Tommy? Why can’t you sleep with someone less related to me?” Charlotte hisses, tone vaguely annoyed and desperate, “I thought you were getting laid? What’s up with you and Nikki anyways?” There’s a shift in her tone, and Lola makes a face, pressing a little harder with her pencil. 

“I am sleeping with someone less related to you,” Lola says, though there’s a strangely guarded quality to her voice, “not Nikki, for the record; he’s the one who suggested I sleep with Tommy to begin with. He’s too much of a bitch to fuck me himself,” she mutters, mostly to herself, a little wrinkle creasing the bridge of her nose as she thinks about it. 

“Wait, you’re seeing someone? For real? And it’s not Nikki?” Charlotte’s expression lit up, and Lola gave her a calculating looking out of the corner of her eye.

“I bet we both know another person I’m not sleeping with,” and Lola’s tone is mean and a little venomous as she deftly changes the subject, “how is our favourite exchange student, by the way?” Charlotte realises too late that her excited questioning of Lola’s private life may have touched a nerve. For all that Lola’s become more open in the few months they’ve been friends, there were strange lines Charlotte kept finding. Lola never really acted as though she cared much about Charlotte and Razzle’s vague status, so to use it against Charlotte was a surprise, and a clear giveaway that one of those lines had been crossed. It got Lola’s message across well enough, and Charlotte’s mouth snapped closed. 

Lola was a terrible distraction when she wanted to be.

“Lola’s not seeing anyone,” Nikki says flatly around his cigarette, and when Charlotte realises she’s gossiping with Nikki Sixx, she wonders idly where her life went wrong, “she’s fucking someone,” he corrected, “and she refuses to tell me who, but she’s not seeing anyone.” He sounds far more annoyed than Charlotte had anticipated, and she can’t help herself. She tugs on that string.

“Wait, so it’s actually not you?” 

“Lola’s dad is built like He-Man, Master of the Fucking Universe, have you seen him, Charlie? I couldn’t stick it in his daughter and bring myself to look him in the eye every other day; and I’m past worrying if he’s gonna toss me into space like he’s an Olympic hammer thrower,” Nikki considers for a moment, before heaving a sigh, “I just don’t wanna disappoint him.”

“You think fucking Lola’s gonna disappoint her dad?” Charlotte’s brow wrinkled with slight confusion, “why do you even talk to her dad every other day?”

“We work together?” Nikki says, like it’s the simplest answer in the world, and oh, suddenly Charlotte knows exactly why the back of the fry cook in Leo’s looked so familiar. Nikki can obviously read it on her face as the realisation, the full understanding of the situation dawns on Charlotte, but it still doesn’t stop her from bursting out with laughter.

“Oh dude, you definitely cannot fuck your boss’s daughter, no matter how much you so clearly want to -”

“Hey!” Nikki snapped, “bold words coming from you, Miss Lee; you already made sure Razz has had the full American High School Experience, or are you waiting for Prom to go full cliché about it?”

“Nikki, I’ve already punched you in the face once, so help me -”

“Yeah but now I know what to expect, I’m kinda into it,” Nikki’s grin is all teeth, and he leans across the table, into Charlotte’s space, “do it again, Miss Lee,” he teases, offering up his cheek to her, grinning from ear to ear. Charlotte makes a disgusted noise, leaning back, crossing her arms.

“You disgust me; can you please quit your job so you can fuck Lola?” 

Thankfully, this seems to take the wind out of Nikki’s sails, his expression falling to something irritated as he huffs and drops his gaze, sitting back dejectedly, and pointedly refusing, unable to come with a snide comeback in time to save face. 

“Lola would punch you in the face,” Charlotte pointed out, tone a little smug, and Nikki presses his lips together, trying very hard to keep his expression neutral as a blush creeps up his cheeks. 

“So would that leggy redhead of yours,” he’s quick to change the conversation, “isn’t she in the musical? You know my band’s still looking for a singer -”

“Lemme stop you right there,” Charlotte stops Nikki in his tracks, holding up a single hand for silence, “first of all, the only person Eileen hates more than you is Vince Neil, and she told me personally that she’d rather eat glass than join your band, secondly -”

“You talked about my band with her?” There’s something a little bashful in Nikki’s voice, and the blush hasn’t left his cheeks; the whole picture would be endearing if he wasn’t such a colossal asshole.

“Secondly,” Charlotte tries again, “you know her name’s Eileen; everyone knows her name is Eileen, stop calling her my leggy redhead,” she ordered, before taking a deep breath, trying to let her irritation subside, “and thirdly, Lola was the one who asked Eileen to be in your band, Eileen just brought it up to me because she knew Tommy was in it.” Nikki, who had already been pink all over, was steadily turning red, trying to hide it as he made a show of patting down his pockets looking for his cigarettes.

“Lola... uh, she talks about my band? She asked if Eileen wanted to join us?” He’s shooting for casual and missing the mark miserably, much to Charlotte’s delight.

“You’re so in love with her,” she smirks. Nikki scowls at her. The bell rings.

i have found a way to watch video in your head. high definition, with instant replay. it is called having regrets.

When Eileen invites Charlotte to the drive in, and suggests bringing Razzle, she insists it’s not a date, that some of the people from the musical were just getting together to watch the new horror movie, and she thought it would be good for Razzle to experience a proper, drive-in movie. That probably should have set of alarm bells in Charlotte’s mind, since everyone knew that if you take someone to a horror movie at the drive-in, you generally don’t end up actually watching much of the movie. It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. 

But Eileen’s adamant, and Charlotte honestly wouldn’t actually mind sneaking off with Razzle at some point, if the opportunity arose, not that she’s admit that. 

“I should ask Lola to go,” Tommy says, tone a little wistful, when, on Thursday, Charlotte tells him her plans for the following evening; alarm bells definitely start ringing. 

They’re in Tommy’s kitchen after school, with his mom at the supermarket, and his dad at work, they’ve got the house to themselves, apart from Tommy’s sister upstairs, monopolising the phone. Charlotte’s sitting on the counter, while Tommy’s staring into the refrigerator, not actually looking at what’s in there, thoughts miles away as he considers his own words.

“Shut that if you’re not going to get anything, and no you shouldn’t,” Charlotte shuts him down immediately, to which Tommy frowns, asking derisively when she became the boss of him, slamming the fridge closed, “I thought you two were just friends,” Charlotte counters with.

“I can ask a friend to the drive-in,” though the way he suddenly can’t meet her gaze betrays him, and he flits over to a cupboard, opening it and staring at the food inside, trying to decide on an afternoon snack, “why are you here, anyways?” At this, Charlotte goes quiet and pensive, looking down at her knees as her heels kick softly against the cupboards below, trying not to think about how her mother keeps leaving college brochures out, with Law, Accounting, and Medicine courses all meticulously highlighted, or how whenever they’re in the same room, she’s treated to passive aggressive questions about whether she’s seen the brochures her parents know she definitely hasn’t touched.

“Am I not allowed to hang out with you?” Charlotte finally surfaces from her thoughts to see that Tommy is waiting for an answer.

“Not if you’re going to be an asshole.”

“If you’re going to daydream about Lola, I’m going to be an asshole,” Charlotte fired back, snarkily, and Tommy narrowed his eyes at her.

“You’ve become kind of a bitch since you started hanging out with Nikki,” he huffs, and Charlotte straightens up where she’s sitting, eyes going wide with disbelief, with slight outrage.

“I’m just fucking sick of hearing you chase after girls who don’t want you! It’s all you ever talk about!”

“Lola wants me! Lola fucking wants me, Charlie!”

“She doesn’t want you, she wants to pity-fuck you so you’ll get off her damn case! Just how naïve are you, Thomas?” Charlotte yells back, and immediately smacks her hand to her mouth, regret written all over her face. Tommy’s expression falls like his heart is breaking. “Tommy -”

“A real, fucking bitch,” there’s a shake in Tommy’s voice that is breaking Charlotte’s heart, and she tries to apologise, but he tells her to go home. 

Yes, she leaves, she shuts the door behind herself, but she can’t bring herself to go home. Her feet carry her while her mind is blank, but when she looks up, she’s pushing open the door to the gas station, seeing Mick Mars look up from his magazine. Before he greets her, she sees the way his eyes search the space around her, roam the empty fuel pumps, as if expecting Tommy to pop out behind her. Then, once he considers himself safe, he puts down his magazine, tilting his head curiously at her, at her dejected demeanour. 

“Charlotte?” She’s actually surprised that he knows her name, and Charlotte hovers in the door, letting in the cold air from outside as she deliberates. Why had she come here of all places? “Are you okay?” The words sound strange, like he’s not used to saying them, not used to showing any sort of care, but she appreciates them nonetheless.

“I was a massive asshole to Tommy,” the words spill from her before she can stop them, and she watches Mick’s expression, can almost see him fight back several sarcastic or congratulatory remarks, suppressing his own well-worn irritation for her cousin, instead, just making a noise in the back of his throat that she can’t quite decipher. Then, he looks out the window, looks to the clock on the wall, and takes his feet off the counter carefully. 

“Do you want a slurpee?” He asks, obviously a little uncertain of how to proceed.

“Not really,” Charlotte admits, and Mick awkwardly looks around, as if to offer something else.

“Do you smoke?” He’s already pulling a packet of cigarettes from his pocket. Charlotte shoves her hands into her coat pockets, shaking her head, looking at the floor, not quite sure where to go from here herself, “do you mind if I smoke?” 

“No,” her voice is small.

They sit on the step by the door outside the gas station, side by side, silent for a few minutes as Mick smokes his cigarette. No cars approach, but they watch some drive by as the sun sinks lower in the sky. 

“I told him Lola doesn’t want him, that she’s just interested in pity-fucking him because she thinks it’d get him off her case,” Charlotte admits, and from the corner of her eye, she sees Mick wince, a sign that what she’d said truly was a dick move. 

“That would’a broken the kid’s heart,” Mick muses around his cigarette, and Charlotte, who’d had her knees curled up to her chest, rests her chin on them, with a quiet ‘I know’. 

“He said I turned into an asshole since I became friends with Nikki Sixx, and then I just managed to prove him right,” she seethes, disappointed in herself more than anything else. 

“That’s your first problem; being friends with Nikki Sixx.”

“That was an accident,” Charlotte tried to defend herself, “and I’ve been friends with Nikki for kind of a while, honestly, but I was just so sick of hearing Tommy moon over girls who don’t even look twice at him, like they hung the stars in the sky -”

“Charlotte,” Mick interrupts her, his voice soft but insistent, and when she finally looks at him, he’s actually frowning at her, hands stilled with another cigarette half-pulled from it’s packet, “that’s not... you know why what you said hurt him, right? You know you could’a said that about any other cheerleader he was into and it would’a rolled right off his back, right?”

Oh. Oh no. Slowly, Charlotte’s expression crumbles as the full weight of her words dawns upon her, her guilt skyrocketing. Face in her hands, she actually wails, and Mick gives a firm pat on the back as a show of support. 

“They’re friends, Mick.”

“I know, Charlotte.”

“God, fuck, he probably thinks that I mean she doesn’t even like him as a friend, Mick!”

“Yeah,” he sighed deeply, giving another pat, “I know, Charlotte.”

“I just... don’t want him to get his heart broken,” she admitted, her only attempt to justify herself, which Mick didn’t accept as a proper answer for a moment.

“He’s sixteen, he’s gotta make his own mistakes, and,” at this he hesitates, lighting up his cigarette and taking a long draft as he deliberated saying his next words, “don’t ever let her know I told you this,” he adds seriously, “but the last thing Lola wants to do is hurt that kid; if anything, she’s hoping hooking up with him will strengthen their friendship, and raise his confidence for when he goes after other girls.” This... is a lot to process.

“How do you even know this?” Charlotte asked, bewildered, and Mick scrunches his face up and takes another long inhale on his cigarette.

“We’re friends,” is what he settles on.

“What?”

“Lola and I... are friends,” he sounds like he doesn’t want to admit it, and visibly cringes as he follows it up with, “she cares about that kid, and speaks very highly of him, and of you, honestly, and maybe the kid’s not as irritating as I had him pegged as. He’s still irritating, but he,” and he audibly groans, hanging his head for a moment, as if disappointed that he’s even saying any of this, “he’s a good friend to Lola.” It’s like the words themselves hurt him to admit, so he changes the topic quickly, “she told me he’s in a band with Sixx, actually,” and his tone is thankfully much less strained as he straightens his posture a little, ignoring Charlotte’s frankly flabbergasted expression, “I’ve been seriously considering joining them.”

“You sing?” Is what Charlotte hears herself say, without really registering it. Mick snorts derisively.

“Fuck no, I play guitar.”

“You sho- you should join them,” Charlotte babbles, trying to make sense of everything that she’d just learned, and now this of all things, but it’s going to take her a while. 

“I should,” he agrees with the barest hint of a smile, once more clapping her on the back. He hesitates before he stands, like he wants to say something else, but instead, he gives an awkward smile and gets to his feet, heading back inside, leaving Charlotte in silence. 

Eileen gives her a lift to school the following morning, seething about how Peach got a part-time job and their parents still aren’t happy. It’s conflicting for the older sister, who hates hearing the derisive way her parents refer to Peach as a ‘burger flipper’, while Peach herself had sneered when Eileen had asked about the job, telling her older sister that she was done grovelling at their parents’ feet just to exist, with an implied ‘unlike you’ which had been so uncharacteristic of the usually kind and upbeat Peach that it had sent Eileen spiralling. It was the third day in a row Eileen had been ranting about it, about how she just wanted to support Peach, but that her whole family appeared to be turning on each other.

Charlotte found herself relating to that particular sentiment far too well.

Half their ragtag bunch of lunchtime misfits is notably absent from their usual lunchtime hang out, so while Charlotte spends the forty minutes picking apart her food like she’s trying to deconstruct it atomically, Razzle sits diligently as Eileen carefully and meticulously braids his hair, while he asks if he needs to bring anything, or wear anything special to the drive in that Friday. Charlotte’s not paying them any attention, just letting her gaze roam distractedly essentially until the bell rings, and Eileen pulls the hairband from her own hair to secure Razzle’s braid, before taking off. 

“Anybody home in that head of yours, Charlie? The bell’s gone,” Razzle’s offering her his hand where he’s standing, and Charlotte finally returns to reality from her blank, concerned mind, wiping the last few crumbs of her sandwich on her jeans picking up her bag with one hand and taking Razzle’s hand with the other. Today he’s chosen to wear a royal purple collared shirt, several sized too big for him, with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into tight, acid-washed jeans littered with naturally-made holes, his backpack on his back, and a black, corduroy jacket slung over one shoulder; with his newly acquired braid, the whole look is quite fetching, quite -

“You look like a prince,” Charlotte feels rather foolish for even saying it, can feel as the blush rises on her cheeks, but Razzle’s beaming as he pulls her to her feet, and doesn’t let go of her hand for a moment. 

“Well then I must be truly lucky to get court a princess like you,” and coming from anyone else, it would have sounded cheesy, or the phrase princess would have been derisive or snide, but he’s sincere, almost painfully so, and Charlotte ducks her head, “not courting,” Razzle corrects quickly, and Charlotte doesn’t think about how her heart sinks at that, despite how they’d talked through this.

“Princess Charlie -” something about the way he says her name always hits her hard, because hearing how it sounds, the reverence with which he says it, the nervousness, she leans in and kisses him quickly, can’t help herself, can’t stop herself. But then she’s leaning back, getting a better grip on her backpack, but - “wait, wait, wait, Charlie, wait -” Razzle, for the barest moment, tightens his grip on her hand, and she’s terrified that she crossed a line, that she’s done something wrong, but she turns back, and he doesn’t seem to be mad or concerned, instead he drops the jacket he’d been holding, gently taking her face in his hands, “can’t spring that on me and get away with it; lemme do it proper.” 

i am going to build a new boyfriend out of garbage and dirty feathers. no one else will touch him. 

 “Did you tell Tommy we were coming here?” Eileen hissed, startling the hell out of Charlotte at the concession stand at the drive-in before the movie began. Charlotte, who had been hovering in line, nervously retucking her nice blouse into her skirt every few minutes, almost jumped out of her skin at her friend’s voice in her ear.

“Yeah, I - why?” Looking around, Charlotte thankfully can’t see Tommy’s shitbox of a car, but it becomes readily apparent the source of Eileen’s frustrations, when she spots a shiny, red sports car parked four cars past where Keanu and his good friend and well known fellow theatre kid Alex Winter were sitting on the hood of Keanu’s car, chatting animatedly with Razzle, who they had been quick to warm to him upon meeting him about twenty minutes ago. 

“Charlie!” The name came out as a frustrated noise from between Eileen’s clenched teeth, her eyes glued to Vince Neil’s ostentatious car, and Charlotte looked down for a moment, before adjusting her skirt again and retucking her shirt as she spoke.

“I didn’t know he’d tell Vince; I haven’t spoken to him since yesterday afternoon,” and she hesitates before adding, “we got into this fight and I’ve been trying to figure out how to apologise but I don’t know how, so it kind of slipped my mind, I didn’t know -”

“We’ll talk about you and Tommy later, I promise, but right now I need you to tell me three convincing arguments as to why I shouldn’t pop one of Vince Neil’s fucking tires.” Eileen’s hatred of Vince is perhaps getting out of hand, Charlotte considers, prying Eileen’s vice-like grip from her upper arm, considering for a moment.

“I know you have no qualms about becoming a felon to protect Peach,” Charlotte says with half a smirk.

“Absolutely none,” Eileen agrees without missing a beat, which was both amusing and heartwarming.

“- but your mom would probably pull you out of public school to enrol you in that strict, girls-only, future-nun-school, Our Lady Of Perpetual Sorrow,” Charlotte’s trying so desperately not to smirk, not to give her amusement away at the concept, “and you can say goodbye to any chance you had of ever making out with your co-star on or off stage.” 

Eileen turns as red as her hair, but at least she takes a moment to calm down, glancing over her shoulder at the three boys who were waiting for them. Keanu looks over for a moment, catching her gaze, waving and grinning from ear to ear, and Charlotte practically cackles as Eileen’s blush deepens. 

“Look, Eileen look,” Charlotte pointed insistently back at the boys, to where Alex had hopped off the hood of Keanu’s car, and was making his way over to the pack of kids Eileen had vaguely gestured to earlier, mentioning that they made up most of the technical theatre department, despite their leather jackets and motorcycles, leaving Razzle and Keanu chattering away, “Alex is going to hang out with the Crew boys, leaving Keanu free to comfort you during the scary movie.”

Eileen takes a deep breath, not even pretending like that wasn’t what she wanted, steeling herself to head back, and ignore Vince Neil’s goddamn car. After a beat, however, she turns to Charlotte, looking altogether stern and collected.

“I know I said you and Razzle could stay in my car, since I’m hanging out with Keanu, but don’t have sex in there -”

“What?!”

“Don’t have sex with Razzle in my car,” Eileen practically ordered, and Charlotte nervously looked to the guy ahead of her in line. He looked back at her, between the two girls, then thankfully stepped up to the counter without a word. 

“I wasn’t planning on it!”

“Well you also weren’t planning on being make out buddies after getting drunk and being the gross PDA couple at Heather’s party,” Eileen sniped back, “listen, I just want Peach to be able to sit in my car without either of your bare asses having touched any of the seats.” 

“I won’t let either of our bare asses touch the seat,” Charlotte agreed, mortified.

“And no stains -”

“Eileen!” Charlotte all but screeches, right as the messages before the movie started playing.

“Eileen, the charming Mister Reeves wants a word with you,” Razzle’s voice joins them just moments before Charlotte’s pretty sure she would have expired from embarrassment, and at the mere mention of Keanu, Eileen relaxes a little. All three of them glance over to Keanu’s car, to see the man himself leaning against his windshield, cigarette idle in one hand as he watches the first of the preview trailers. As much as he makes gestures like he’s about to take a drag, the cigarette never quite makes it to his lips before he extends his arm out beside him again, like he’s going through the motions without really following through. Eileen, as if drawn to him by a spell, practically floats away.

“She’s a strange one,” he says fondly, though Charlotte kindly doesn’t point out the hypocrisy in his words, “Keanu and Alex act like she’s some aloof, inscrutable woman; weren’t sure we were talking about the same woman,” he huffed a laugh, much to Charlotte’s disbelief.

“Eileen... she is an aloof, inscrutable woman, you just happen to live with her arch nemesis, and- you’re- we’re- you know, we’re...” Charlotte gestured between herself and Razzle, flushing, as his smile widened, “and you know, I’m her best friend.”

“Guys, are you buying food or what?” The concierge asks; a tired-looking kid Charlotte recognises from Tommy’s year. She hops forward, ordering food, and waiting for it to be prepared, all while standing by Razzle’s side, his chin on her should as they watch the preview trailers. He’s behind her, warm and solid and grounding, which is exactly what she needs as her cousin’s beat-up excuse of a car screeches into the lot, almost spraying gravel thanks to his sharp turn into the first available space. 

“Oh god, oh fucking hell,” Charlotte breathes, clenching her eyes tightly shut, “if you see a blonde-haired, six-foot stick-insect, who looks like he’d cheat on his girlfriend,” she starts, whole face scrunching with frustration, “and-or Nikki fucking Sixx, well, that would be about right; that feels like how tonight would go,” she lets out a long, frustrated breath, and she feels Razzle lift his chin from her shoulder right as he makes a noise of confusion.

“Tommy just arrived,” she clarified.

“Oh?”

“And we kind of got into an argument yesterday.”

“Oh.”

Charlotte’s name is called and she collects the bucket of popcorn she’d ordered for the pair of them, and Razzle picks up their drinks, heading back to the car as the movie opens. 

“You wanna talk about whatever’s going on with you and that Drummer Boy?” Razzle asks as they’re settling in the back seat together. Charlotte’s detaching the front seat’s headrests with possibly too much vigour, but declines, despite the frustration written all over her face. Razzle keeps a careful hold on the drinks that he’d thought were safe to balance on the centre console as Charlotte foisted herself over the back seat to pull the blankets she’d packed from the trunk. 

“You sure?” Razzle tried again, still with one hand nervously keeping the drinks in place, the other firmly holding their bucket of popcorn out of harm’s way. With a blanket securely bundled in her arms, Charlotte gives him a flat look, that quickly disappears in the face of his genuine concern.

“No, Razz,” she sighed, “I’m just mad at myself for letting this, like, fester, you know? I should have apologised sooner,” she huffs a sigh, unfurling the blanket with far more care now, draping it across both of their laps. 

“You’ve a good heart, Miss Lee,” Razzle assures her, but Charlotte’s face scrunches reflexively at the nickname, having only ever associated it with Nikki Sixx’s dreadful attempts to hit on her.

“Thanks, but please don’t call me that,” Charlotte gives a strained little smile, but Razzle nods and takes it in stride, finally getting himself comfortable and sitting back against the seat, one arm draped across the back, the other holding the popcorn in his lap.

“No worries, Love; I could call you Charlie, but I always thought it sounded a bit weird coming from me,” Razzle is rambling as Charlotte settles against him, tucking herself up close to him, “had a mate back home called Charlie, but short for Charles; absolute cockhead,” he clicks his tongue as Charlotte can’t help but giggle, “I could always keep just calling you Love, but it’s not as personal, you know? And Charlotte... it’s a pretty name, but it would be like if you started calling me Nicholas, be a bit weird, don’t ya think?” He mused, and Charlotte’s eyes drifted from the opening scene of the movie, where a menacing looking knife-glove was being created, to Razzle’s face as he chattered away. 

“I could keep calling you Princess Charlie,” as he says that, he looks to her, and seems a little startled to see her looking back at him, “like the other day,” his voice is softer, eyes wide, roaming her face, as if trying to capture her fond expression in his memory forever.

“You wouldn’t imagine your friend Charlie from back home a tiara?” Charlotte’s voice is amused, as is her expression, and Razzle’s eyes crease in the corners as he smiles; his eyes as so blue, so honest.

“You’d be the only Princess Charlie in my life,” he assures, giving her shoulder a squeeze where his arm is wrapped around her, and Charlotte doesn’t even think about how they’re less than a minute into the movie before she’s kissing him. 

At least it gets her to stop thinking about Tommy. 

Honestly, it gets her to stop thinking about everyone and everything that isn’t Razzle in this car in this moment, which is fine for her, because her life is somehow currently a stupid, complicated mess of people and emotions, and Razzle is nice to her, and a damn good kisser, and gentle, and his hands are warm -

“Miss Lee, does the Declaration of Independence mean nothing to you?” Comes shouted through the wound-up window of the car, startling Charlotte, who’s been in Razzle’s lap with his lips on her neck, so much that she jumped, smacking the back of her head into the roof of the car. Razzle reached out for her, expression concerned and lips kiss-bruised, as Charlotte held her head, wincing. Looking to the window, however, she could see Nikki Sixx pressing his face to the glass, looking altogether unsightly, with Lola a few feet behind him, drawing something in the gravel with the toe of her shoe. 

Assholes!

“I’m gonna kill him,” Charlotte says with deadly calm the moment she understands the situation, though Razzle seems to have anticipated this, and has his hands on her thighs, keeping her secure in his firm grip.

“No,” Razzle says, voice equally as calm, his gaze focused on Charlotte, and not on Nikki who had put his open mouth on the window, puffed out his cheeks, and proceeded to lick the glass. Charlotte scrunches her expression for a moment, internal debate raging between her desire to stay in the car with Razzle, and her need to beat the ever-loving shit out of Nikki Sixx for being a smartass.

“I’m gonna crack the window and inch and tell him to fuck off,” Charlotte says, looking back to Razzle, who was wearing an expression of faint amusement, and his grip became a little less firm. Reaching over, she wound down the window an inch. Immediately, Nikki looked through the gap, cheek still pressed to the window as his gaze darted around the cabin of the car, no longer obscured by the window tint. 

“I’m surprised you know what the Declaration of Independence is,” Charlotte said, tone icy as she moved to sit next to Razzle. 

“Honestly I stole that line from Lola,” Nikki admitted, and upon hearing her name, even faintly, Lola joins them, thankfully not pressing herself to the window, instead standing close to Nikki, her hip by his, hands in her jacket pockets. 

“Were they doing it?” Lola asks far too casually, almost too quiet for Charlotte and Razzle to hear, though they do, and both blush, even as Nikki pulls back, making a face. 

“No,” Charlotte calls back, and Lola’s expression turns smug as she holds out her hand, making a ‘hand it over’ gesture to Nikki, only for him to begrudgingly hand over a five dollar note. 

“Shoulda waited ‘til the end of the movie to ask,” Lola’s grin stretched wider, even as Charlotte tried to splutter a protest, and Razzle had to press his face against her shoulder to muffle his laugh at the whole situation.

“Why are you assholes here?” Charlotte hissed; strangely, Lola’s expression fell, and she stepped back again, adding more to her gravel drawing with her shoe, not looking at the car. 

“We’re at the drive in because I’ve heard this is a good movie,” Nikki goes back to staring at them through the inch crack in the window, “and we’re here-” his tone turns proud while his smile turns sharp as he taps his nail against the glass, “because we’re trying to give Tommy and Heather privacy,” he all but sings. There’s... a lot to unpack there, however before Charlotte can process any of it, Lola grab’s Nikki by the elbow, pulling him away.

“Come on, I didn’t take a night off to talk to people I can see every day, did you bring weed or not?” She insisted, tone frustrated leading him towards the concierge stand. Something about it had Charlotte’s heart sinking, even as Razzle’s still chuckling and confused about what was going on, Charlotte’s heart was sinking. 

Tommy had driven Nikki and Lola - and Heather? What? - to the drive in. Tommy and Lola had almost definitely spoken about the fight Charlotte and Tommy had had, which means Lola almost definitely knew what Charlotte had said. 

“Everything okay, Princess?” Razzle had asked gently, his arm around her once more as Charlotte had buried her face in her hands. 

“My whole life is fucked,” Charlotte muttered, and Razzle pulled her in close to him. Her legs bridge over his thighs, and he’s holding her close with both arms, keeping her warm and secure, and Charlotte takes a moment, then another, then a third, to take comfort. 

She’s going to miss this. Going to miss him. Fuck, she can’t think like that, can’t keep reminding herself of the time limit on their friendship, the reason she’s scared to call it anything more. 

Everything is fucked, but this one moment, how Razzle was holding her close, devoid of it’s context, it was pretty damn great.

a friend will help you move. a best friend will help you move bodies. but if you have to move your best friend's body, you're on your own

Charlotte goes to see Tommy on Saturday morning, but when she gets there, he’s not home. 

“He’s at a movie~ with a girl~!” Athena sings, when Charlotte asks, and Charlotte, confused and concerned, looked to her aunt, Tommy’s mother, who gave a kind smile and nod of confirmation. 

“He was so nervous and excited, spent a long time doing his hair just right,” she giggled fondly, pride in her voice, but Charlotte’s heart was in her throat. Had what she said somehow guilted Lola into dating her cousin? That could only end badly for both of them, oh fuck -

Except when she bursts into Leo’s at eleven, after most of the breakfast diners had vacated, and the lunch rush was still about half an hour away, Lola was standing behind the counter... with Peach? Teaching her how to fold silverware in napkins correctly? 

“Do you know... do know that thing where you fold it into a swan?” Peach asks, giggling, right as one of the other kind-faced staff members approaches Charlotte and asks her how many people she’d like a table for. Lola instinctually looks to the door, and Peach catches on a moment later, and suddenly both girls behind the counter are frowning in Charlotte’s direction. Lola mutters something to Peach that’s too quiet for Charlotte to hear, and the younger redhead immediately takes the silverware they’ve already wrapped, going around and dispensing it amongst each table’s silverware holder. Peach is in uniform. 

“I just...” Charlotte’s voice is soft, while her gaze is locked with Lola’s, brushing past the host who’d greeted her, “I need to talk to Lola.” The host looks over his shoulder at Lola, who looks his way for the barest moment and gives half a shrug. The kid backs off, looking past Charlotte to the street outside to see if anyone else was coming in after her, and upon seeing no-one, he heads back to the counter. 

“Hey Peach,” Charlotte says as the redhead slides past her to get to another table. Peach doesn’t even look at her when she gives a flat greeting in response. 

“How can I help you?” Lola’s painfully sweet customer-service voice hurts more than any sarcastic remark she could have come up with, and it’s eating Charlotte alive to know what Tommy told her, what Lola thinks Charlotte thinks of her to make her act so hostile. The way she’s smiling so widely coupled with her dead-eyed stare is unnerving. 

“Keola!” It comes as a shock when a firm voice comes from the kitchen, and Lola practically jumps from her skin. Looking to the source, Charlotte sees the face of the man she’s only ever seen the back of in the kitchen, taller than anyone else in the restaurant, and he looks like Lola.

“What?” Lola hisses, surprising Charlotte, and the man looks to Charlotte, giving her a warm, friendly smile, before he answers.

“If you need to talk to,” and the man pauses, tipping his head a little as he looks to Charlotte, “Charlie?” And Charlotte, kind of confused and nervous as to how he knows her name, nods in confirmation, “you can take your break, okay? Water, fresh air, outside -” and without waiting for a confirmation, he calls the kid who had greeted Charlotte to come and take Lola’s place at the counter, as Lola begrudgingly grabs a bottle of water from beneath the counter, and storms out from behind the counter, past Charlotte to the door. 

Charlotte, a little terrified, looks to the man, who gives another bright smile.

“Sorry we haven’t properly met, I’m Leo, glad to finally meet you, Charlie,” and immediately everything makes total and complete sense, and Charlotte nervously greets him, and takes off after Lola, who had disappeared down the street. 

[thevampirearcher-md]

something med school did not cover - adorable (#2) 🩺

short and sweet is the mood for this AU ✨

also on ao3

She’s the first one in. As a general rule, Rosé is always there when Denali walks out of the nurse’s locker room, studying the overnight updates on her patients’ charts, always the first one to start on her pre-rounds. She carries around her Oxford Handbook of Paediatrics stuffed in one pocket, alongside all of her funky pens, her pink stethoscope stuffed in her other pocket and her notepad in hand, filled with various case notes. “Good morning, doctor,” Denali greets, pinning her badge to her scrubs. Rosé almost drops the chart she’s holding as her head snaps up. Her face lights up with a smile. “Good morning, nurse Foxx,” she greets, her smile only extending out wider. Her eyes meet Denali’s and she stops whatever she’s doing - which from the looks of it is piling up charts into a makeshift tower which slides dangerously as the intern is distracted. “Careful,” Denali giggles from across the central desk. “Oh, shit,” Rosé mutters, stopping the papers with her hip, right as they’re about to spill over the edge of the counter and scatter across the linoleum. “Oh, shit,” she repeats, eyes widening, realising that she’s let a forbidden word slip out. Denali’s giggling intensifies, making her face flush bright red. “Need any help?” “Please,” Rosé’s tone reminds Denali of a child, pleading and endearing, and she approaches to help. The intern’s hands are full and her eyes are almost desperate. Denali can feel the fear of rearranging the medical files of various different patients in chronological order. She sneaks her arm around Rosé’s body, making her freeze. “Got ‘em,” she announces, trying not to get caught up in how close they are to each other. She can feel it when Rosé releases a breath she’d been holding and steps away. “Thank you,” she says on a sigh, righting herself. “Can I ask what’s with the leaning tower of cases?” Denali gathers them to her chest. “Those are all my patients,” the intern explains. “I was gathering their files to pre-round before Professor Visage gets here.” Denali counts them quickly - seven, including the one clutched in Rosé’s hand, more patients than Denali has ever seen assigned to an intern with only a month of experience under her belt. She’s been working here since she was a rookie, since before she had even graduated from nursing school, and she has gotten to know how Professor Visage operates: she’s seen her pick out someone from every generation and slowly start to lean on them, to give them more responsibility. But this is overload, especially this early on. “Need assistance?” she offers benevolently. Rosé’s eyes light up at that. “Would you?” Denali’s dimpled smile is answer enough. She wouldn’t normally do this. Every nurse is a rookie at first and every doctor is an intern in the beginning. Every intern pre-rounds their patients, gets pimped by their supervisors during actual rounds then spends the rest of their days on scut - filling out charts, printing out labs and acting like secretaries in scrubs. She’s been a rookie herself - filling out treatment plans and handing out supplies to her overseers - and none of the interns have helped her. Rosé knocks softly on door 612, then pushes it open. “Good morning, Mrs Gardner,” she greets softly. “It’s Dr McCorkell,” she looks to the one year old boy, propped against the low bed, frantically drawing on an Etch-A-Sketch. “And nurse Foxx,” Denali pipes up. “Hi, Arthur,” she winks, handing his file over to Rosé. “How are we doing today?” Rosé asks, crouching down next to the bed. Arthur looks to her and smiles. While his mommy answers Rosé’s questions, giving her all of the needed updates, Denali can’t help but notice the intern. She’s steadily leaning closer to the boy, grabbing one of his stuffed animals to lure him to her. He points to his Etch-A-Sketch, to his masterpiece of violent swirls, which Rosé studies thoughtfully. “You’re a very talented artist,” she praises, smiling at him. The boy extends his chubby hand towards her, the Etch-A-Sketch pen gripped into his fleshy palm. “Should I draw something, too?” He nods and Denali’s

smile widens as she watches the ginger absentmindedly write his name on the board in her loopy calligraphy. The one-year-old watches mesmerised as her hand moves. She takes her opportunity to sneak her stethoscope out of her pocket and start listening to his breathing sounds. “That’s not a drawing, Dr McCorkell,” Denali hears herself say and the intern turns to narrow her eyes at her. Teasing is unprofessional, Denali starkly reminds herself, especially in the presence of a patient. “I’m not as talented as Arthur,” she winks as he bats her stethoscope away, his small face contorting up into a scowl. Giggling at a doctor’s wink is also highly unprofessional. “I’m sorry, I know I’m annoying,” Rosé admits, swinging Arthur up into her arms and laying him on the bed. The toddler scrunches his face at her, just about ready to burst into angry tears. Denali steps closer, automatically reaching for her badge. “Hey, champ, look what I got,” she dangles it above his face. His wide eyes snap to the white rectangle, his hands straining up to reach it. “Has he eaten today?” Rosé asks the mother, ready to palpate his tummy. “Just the yogurt,” she sighs. “Everything else contains something he’s allergic to,” the mother looks despaired. Denali’s eyes scan over the breakfast tray - cornflakes, a small slice of bread, butter and some kind of jam. All fairly harmless. She’s checking the exhaustive list of food allergies Arthur has been diagnosed with, when he starts screaming. Rosé huffs in agreement. “Good God, this is the worst part, I promise,” she reassures the child as she presses her palm into his abdomen. “After this you get a reward for being the bravest boy of them all, ok?” She winks and his sobs subside into whimpers. “Could that be sensitivity?” Denali narrows her eyes down at his chart - third day inpatient for a rather nasty bout of diarrhoea with a great evolution since being admitted. “Nah,” the intern dismisses her. “I’m just bothering him with all this examining,” she pulls him up to sitting, “when he’d rather be playing. Right, Arthur?” She smiles, producing a pen from one of her pockets. It’s wildly and brightly coloured and Arthur is mesmerised instantly. “He seems to be doing marvellously,” Rosé informs the mother. “I’ll bring up his discharge today at rounds,” she explains. “What I also want to touch up on are his allergies. With all due respect for his doctor, I’ll talk to Professor Visage about finding him a great allergologist, who can help you tell which ones are actual allergies and which ones are just harmless blood reactions.” Denali laughs, breaking the solemn moment. Arthur had found how to uncap Rosé’s pen and is now proudly shoving the two parts into his mom’s face. Rosé joins in Denali’s laughter. “Such a bright young boy can’t only eat three aliments for the rest of his life,” Rosé quirks an eyebrow, making the little boy giggle. “Thank you so much, doctor McCorkell,” Arthur’s mother clutches her baby close to her body, even as he’s struggling to extend his arms out to Rosé as she puts the cap back onto her pen and hands it to him again. Very few children ever warm up to their doctors so fast. Even Professor Visage, who children adore, doesn’t have this much patience to bring the child to her. “There’s no need to thank me,” Rosé catches the cap that Arthur has just dropped. “Professor Visage is the person in charge,” she smiles. “And I’ll bet he’s spent much more time with Nurse Foxx here than he has with me,” she winks as the boy tries to shove the pen into its cap, filling Rosé’s hand with blue wobbly lines. “So close,” she encourages as another line crosses past her wrist. “He’s only this friendly with you,” the mommy assures and Denali nods. “And you’ve taken the greatest care of him, so thank you. Honey, it’s time to give Doctor McCorkell her pen back,” she urges her son, who clutches it more tightly, drawing it away from his mom’s expecting hand. “Arthur,” Denali says softly, “Doctor McCorkell might cry if you don’t give her pen back to her,” she tells him and his eyes widen. “We don’t want to

see her cry, do we?” Rosé’s eyes snap to hers. The boy fervently shakes his head no, extending the pen out to Rosé. “Thank you, Arthur,” she stuffs it back into her pocket. “Bye,” she calls, beckoning Denali out of the room. The last picture she sees in room 612 is Arthur waving from his mommy’s arms. “That little boy loves you,” Denali says, noticing a slight blush start to creep up into her cheeks. “Oh, stop that,” the ginger tries to hide her face away, but covering her cheeks while her hair is pinned back proves difficult. “And with good reason,” Denali hums under her breath and the only clue that Rosé had heard her is the deepening red colour of her cheeks as she reaches for the next chart she needs from the pile balanced in Denali’s arms.

[lesetoilesfous]

Nanders with kiss prompt (Kisses Meant To Distract The Other Person From Whatever They Were Intently Doing)? ❤️

Thank you so much! Sorry this took me so long to get to but I hope you enjoy!

(If you’d like me to write you a dragon age fic, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Nanders

Characters: Nathaniel Howe, Anders

Tags: suggestive content but no actual smut, awakening adjacent, the author did a cursory research on arrow fletching but this is Not historically accurate, it was just a fun mental image, Anders gives the best massages

Rating: Mature

Fletching arrows was not as simple or as easy as Anders seemed to think that it was. Nathaniel can feel the mage’s eyes on him now, and he is resolutely ignoring them as he winds silver thread through the blue dyed cut feathers he’s in the process of gluing to his arrows. He has forty shafts to work through today (he can only imagine the jokes Anders would make if he says the words aloud), and he cannot afford to allow himself to be distracted, by anyone. Not even the strawberry blonde, outrageously flirtatious and incorrigibly good-looking apostate whose overtures had become increasingly apparent of late.

Nathaniel had not always been the first to pick up on a potential flirtation, a subject for which he had been extensively teased by Delilah. But time spent soldiering in the Free Marches had taught him something of the world, and he likes to think that even his woefully oblivious 19 year old self would have understood someone inviting him to imagine them naked as a come on. 

Of course, after Anders had made the statement (with a lewd kind of relish that made him look like nothing so much as a cat fat with cream), Nathaniel had inevitably found himself doing just that: imagining the mage naked, and...other things. 

In the present, Nathaniel smears glue through the feathers of the quill he’s attaching and swears under his breath, “blood and ashes!”

Anders huffs and cocks his head - Nathaniel isn’t sure when exactly the mage had found his way to sitting on the floor in front of him, leaning back on his hands as he watches him openly, brown eyes gold in the late afternoon sunlight. “Problem, Howe?”

Nathaniel wants to say, yes. He wants to say, you’re distracting me, leave. He wants to say, what do you look like naked? 

He says none of these things, impatiently discarding the ruined fletching to clean and repair later, picking up a clean cut feather from a small pile beside him on the table he’s sitting at and carefully slotting it into place alongside the others as he begins to bind the quill to the shaft of his arrow. Nathaniel can feel the heat of Anders’ gaze on him, even as he squints at the silver thread he’s winding around the pale birch wood of his arrows. He cannot shake the illusion of what the mage’s long, clever fingers might feel like, trailing down his arms, playing against his skin…

The thread snaps, and Nathaniel clenches his jaw to stop himself from swearing a second time, looking up instead to glare at Anders. Anders, in return, gives him a wry grin. “You look frustrated.”

Nathaniel takes a deep breath. “Whatever makes you think that?”

Anders lets the jibe glance off him like sunlight, tilting his chin instead at the stack of shafts and the woefully small pile of drying arrows. “Does this normally take you this long?”

Nathaniel grinds his teeth. “No.”

Anders’ pink lips quirk into a smile, and his eyes glitter as he looks Nathaniel in the eye, boldly. “Something distracting you?”

Nathaniel stares at him for a long moment, into those bright brown eyes, framed by long blonde lashes and a smattering of ginger freckles. He wants to say yes. But he cannot find the courage. So, instead, he swallows and returns, frustrated, to the abused arrow in his lap, pulling a little more thread from the spool on the table beside him.

In a rustle of fabric, Anders unfolds easily to his feet, his shadow falling across Nathaniel and the table. Nathaniel always forgets how tall he is. Stepping lightly, almost silently, Anders moves through the grass to Nathaniel’s back, long hands slipping down onto his shoulders. Nathaniel stiffens, and feels Anders curling behind him. Anders’ breath is hot on his ear when he murmurs, “You can tell me to stop, if you want me to.”

Nathaniel’s efforts to untangle his tongue are utterly hopeless, so instead he shakes his head, vigorously. Anders’ chuckle is breathy and soft, and then his thumbs press into the knot of muscle at Nathaniel’s shoulder blades and Nathaniel almost wants to moan with the relief of it. Magic washes into his aching muscles from the firm press of Anders’ fingers, a sweet relief in the uncommon blaze of summer drying out the Vigil’s courtyard.

Despite himself, Nathaniel begins to relax, falling back into the almost hypnotic task of fletching his arrows. He’s not sure how long Anders massages him, or who might have seen them. Nathaniel is focused only on his task and the sweet, aching relief of the unknotting muscles in his back. It’s only when he goes to reach for another shaft and finds none that he realises the sky has flushed cooler and indigo with the coming evening.

Anders’ hands fall from his shoulders with a caress that cannot have been unintentional, and it is with some reluctance that Nathaniel returns his focus to the final arrow in his lap, squinting in the coming dark as he tries to keep the fletching stable.

But then long, warm fingers are cradling his face, and Nathaniel finds himself as pliable as some lover in a romance, the arrow falling forgotten in his lap as he looks up into Anders’ bright, golden, catlike eyes. Red-gold waving hair falls forward across Anders’ face, and he offers Nathaniel a grin as his thumb brushes his cheek. “Surely you have better things to do.”

Then Anders kisses him, one hand moving to clutch Nathanel’s hair, and Nathaniel’s mouth opens on a half silent gasp as he leans forward, imagining he can breathe in the gold-dust and sunlight that seems to cling to Anders like a spell. The honey smell of elfroot is thick on his tongue as he presses closer, feeling the plush give of Anders’ lips against his. He feels Anders’ exhalation, breathes it into his lungs, warm from his body as Anders’ tongue darts against his lips, teasing. Nathaniel presses forward -

The arrow in Nathaniel’s lap clatters to the floor. Anders pulls back with a start, and when he does Nathaniel follows, half meaning to stop him. 

Anders’ hand falls from Nathaniel’s hair, and he grins at him in the dark, cut in gold and shadow as lanterns are lit around the keep. He offers his hand, and his voice is rough and low with feeling when he speaks, “Come with me.”

Nathaniel doesn’t think. He follows him.

[suntumarchive]

Warning - This story contains male gas, belching and flatulence, as well as facesitting. Focused on Dylas from Rune Factory 4. Canon x OC ship.

Per anon request~ _____

„Dylas? Are you listening to me?“

The young man’s ears perked up at the obvious irritation in his girlfriend’s voice. He admittedly hadn’t been paying a lot of attention to what she had been telling him; he was too busy dealing with… other things.

Since this morning, Dylas hadn’t exactly been feeling well. Ever since he woke up, his insides have been awfully agitated for some reason, and not even milk porridge for breakfast had fixed it. In fact, it was quite the opposite – his stomach felt even stranger ever since he’d had it. It had been consistently grumbling and complaining all day, feeling achy and bloated, and not only was it very annoying, it was also embarrassing. His pants and jacket were painfully pushing against his skin, no matter how often he adjusted them. He hadn’t dared to eat lunch, because he didn’t want to make himself even sicker and possibly end up having to cancel his date with Veyza. Of course, Dylas had arrived to it in a rather questionable state, and now she was clearly onto him. A shameful blush spread across his cheeks.

“Uh… sorry. I had… something else on my mind.”

It came out sounding like a bad excuse, and the horse man cursed the naturally sullen tone of his voice. Hopefully he hadn’t made her think anything was more important than their date. The dwarf girl seemed distraught at his response, causing him to feel awfully guilty.

“What’s bothering you? Wanna talk about it?”

“No!! – I mean… no. No, thank you.”

Great job, Dylas. Great job. You butchered this date before it even properly started.

An uncomfortable silence soon filled the room. Veyza wasn’t upset or anything; rather surprised by her partner’s strange behavior. Dylas was full of surprises, and very bad at expressing himself, but tonight it was especially noticeable.

Whatever’s bothering him must take up a lot of space on his mind…

She continued to eat her food in silence, wondering how she could get him to spill the beans. For all her life, she believed it was unhealthy to be alone with your problems. No matter how small they were, they were always lighter when shared with a loved one.

While she was debating on how to approach this matter, Dylas concentrated on how he could save this date. Was there anything he could say that could make up for how he snapped at her just now? What if he hurt her feelings? She didn’t look hurt… but she was so quiet. When Veyza was quiet, that was usually not a good sign.

His thought process was interrupted by a loud growl erupting from his middle, immediately setting his cheeks on fire. He’d been so busy wondering about his girlfriend that he’d forgotten to watch his food intake. Because he hadn’t eaten lunch, he was starving – and therefore eating way too quickly. Now, his already upset stomach was complaining about the sudden filling, gurgling and rumbling by far more than he’d expected it to. Dylas shot a quick glance to his girlfriend, begging whatever Gods were above that she hadn’t heard it. Luckily, she had either missed it, was too lost in her own thoughts to notice, or too polite to acknowledge it.

In fact, Veyza had just come up with a little idea, and blissfully shoved a spoonful of Curry into her mouth. When she noticed him looking at her with that nervous expression, she gave him a loving smile, to let him know everything was alright between them. The man’s heartbeat sped up even more at the sight.

“You know, Dylas…”

“Mmh…?”

“I’ve been really looking forward to our date tonight…”

His expression softened a little. Well, he felt quite the same way. Hence why he had hoped for his stomach to settle down first; because he had wanted it to go smoothly.

“Me too.”

“You too?”, her voice was full of warmth.

“I’m so happy to hear that! I love you, Big D~”

“I… love you too… Princess.”

She chuckled, winking at him. It was always lovely to hear him say that. With the time, she knew she could get him to open up. He was just a bit of a tough nut to crack.

“Now… Don’t you want to tell your princess what has your mind racing tonight?”

“I… don’t know what you mean.”

He couldn’t possibly tell her that he was gassy like… Like a horse.

“Well, maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’re eating a very small amount of sashimi tonight. And without soy sauce or wasabi, too… but more ginger than usual. You see, I know what you like… I’d have expected our dinner date to be more of a feast for you. Or did Porcoline run out of food?”

Touché, Faye.

As if her strange obsession with observing his eating wasn’t already intimidating enough, she also didn’t hesitate to admit that she knew him all too well. She’s been like that since the beginning. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out how he liked his food. Sometimes he legitimately wondered how he developed feelings for this little creep. Maybe… it was exactly because she took her time to figure him out.

“I’m just… I’m feeling a little under the weather.”

“I see…”

The dwarf silently continued to eat, waiting whether or not he was going to tell her what was going on with him. She was grateful he had finally shared what was bothering him, but she would have been happy about some more details. Maybe there was something she could do to make him feel better.

Dylas soon finished the rest of the sashimi on his plate, his innards still rumbling and gurgling ominously while trying to shift the gas around. Now that there was food inside his stomach, he felt like he looked twice his usual size. Even though he had told Veyza about his state, or at least hinted at it, he still felt uncomfortable about it, and hoped the painful rumbling wasn’t loud enough for her to hear.

“That was fantastic food”, she cooed, leaning back in an unfeminine manner. The dwarf didn’t show an ounce of shame. They were alone. Porcoline had made sure they could enjoy their date all by themselves. So she gave Dylas a tiny smirk, and to add to her statement, she let out a little belch.

Uuurp!

“Ugh…!”

Veyza giggled at Dylas’ expression of both disgust and amusement. As much as he tried to look reproachful, he couldn’t fight down the urge to smile at her. The corners of his mouth moved up before he could stop them, and he soon started chuckling along with her.

She was so… herself.

His truthful smile soon formed into a pained grimace, when a big amount of gas began shifting towards his upper belly. Clearly it begged for release. A loud, tormented sounding groan only added to it. Oh no.

Dylas quickly left his seat, making a bit of room in his middle by leaving his narrowed down position. He couldn’t bring himself to let it out in front of Faye. It was just… too much, too soon. Too much pressure. But right now, he had to ask himself what pressure was bigger – belching in front of his new girlfriend, or the menacing rumbles deep within? The gas, combined with his stomach juices working on the food he had eaten, began to feel like knives digging into his insides. Sweat formed on his forehead as he found himself groaning a little, out of sheer frustration. There was such a simple solution to it, but he just couldn’t…

“Dylas? You really don’t look well right now…”

He gave her a pained grimace. It was supposed to be a smile, but it really looked like anything but that.

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Or are you just saying that to shut me up?”

Touché again, Faye.

“Ugh… I’m… Like I said, I’m not in a good shape…”

The dwarf came closer to him, shooting him a warm gaze. Normally it wouldn’t bother him, in fact, he loved it when she looked at him like this, but right now, he only feared she could hear the deep rumbles from his agitated middle. But when she reached for his hand and her soft skin came in contact with his own, he immediately felt at ease.

“Dally… be honest with me… please. There must be something I can do.”

The young man hung his head in shame. She was so good to him. And he was acting like such a dork. Ruining this date. Before he even spoke, his face grew bright red. Just thinking of what he was about to say was absolutely humiliating… but now there was no way out of this anymore.

“My… stomach really hurts…”

“Your stomach…?”

“I’ve been… really gassy all day.”

Dylas half expected her to laugh at him, but instead, she now took his hand between both of hers. His heart skipped a beat when he felt her gently caressing his fingers.

“Oh, love… why didn’t you say anything? We could have spent our date differently… instead of eating together.”

“No!! – No I… I didn’t want to ruin it…”

“Dumb horse, you didn’t ruin anything.”

His face dropped at the name she’d called him. He hated it when she called him a horse, but he assumed he had it coming. She only called him a dumb horse when he did something stupid.

Veyza gently put her arms around his shoulders, giving him a bit of a clumsy hug. He was too tall for her to reach properly, and she also didn’t want to hurt his belly. And most of all, she didn’t want him to be unhappy. She hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings, or make him uncomfortable by confronting him. It was just very important to her that he trusted her with his needs. If anything, she was a little bit upset he hadn’t told her from the start that he wasn’t feeling well. Now they’d already eaten. Now he already felt like he had ruined it. And now, while he gently put his own arms around her, holding her close to him, she could feel his middle acting up right next to her own…

“You know, Big D… it’s still our date…”

“Yeah…?”

Faye gently pulled on his ear, directing him to move his head down a little. She then took his soft, furry ear between two of her stubby fingers, and whispered into it.

“Why don’t we go to my place? I can fix you up… We can spend some time together, just the two of us…”

His ear twitched free from her soft hold. Simultaneously, his tail began to flop around with excitement. As much as he tried to hide it, the thought of being alone with her in her room was pretty thrilling… even in his current state.

“W-what do you mean… fix me up…?”

“You’ll see…”

“But…”, he bit his lower lip and vaguely gestured to his bloated middle. He had to do something about that soon… Or he was going to burst… He wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle holding it back.

“Don’t worry about it”, Veyza purred. She gently brushed her hands across his sides as she let go of his shoulders, sending an intense shiver down the horse man’s spine. Combined with the seductive look on her face, the gesture got him pretty hot and bothered.

“Like I said… I can fix you right up…”

Whatever she meant by that, it sounded promising… but Dylas wasn’t sure just how much humiliation he could handle. If he ended up belching, or worse, farting in front of her… he could never show his face again. His ears were twitching wildly at this point. His first time in his girlfriend’s room, all alone with her… but… in such a state…

#

“Why don’t you take off these clothes?”

“W-what?!”

“What, are you ashamed? Fine, I’ll start then.”

Dylas found himself looking away when the dwarf reached for her shirt and began to pull it over her head. It hadn’t been too long since they had started dating… wasn’t it a bit too early for this? Well, as much as he was trying to be a gentleman, he was a man before he was anything else. Just thinking about the beauty she was about to show him got his eyes drawn to her like a magnet. An almost toneless yelp came from his mouth as he observed her bra – and the lovely chest this lucky piece of clothing was allowed to support. She hadn’t been exaggerating back when she’d said her breasts were tiny, but their shape was very cute. His tail started flailing like a fish out of water once he saw her taking her skirt off as well, revealing the counterpart to the mentioned bra – the most adorable blue lace panties he ever laid eyes on. When Veyza put her clothes aside, left with nothing but her underwear and her plain, black stockings as she walked towards him, he could barely look away anymore. Her shoulders and legs, covered in dark, poorly healed scars from her countless battles, her small, flat, but muscular form, and the obviously differently sized breasts, with her left one being almost twice the size… she lacked everything he was taught to be “hot” or “beautiful”, and yet, he was absolutely certain that he had never seen a more attractive woman in his entire life.

“Well? Are you going to take your clothes off, too? Or are you just gonna stare at me?”

Dylas bit his lower lip and nodded, obediently taking off his jacket. As he unbuttoned his shirt, he hesitated for a second. His stomach felt like a massive balloon, full of air and food. Was he really ready to show it to her…? The man closed his eyes and forced himself to think of his girlfriend, who had just showed him one of her biggest insecurities. He remembered how poorly she talked of her breasts. Of their differing sizes. There was no way she hadn’t felt anything while taking off her clothes for him. Maybe she was just as uncomfortable as he was…

With that in mind, he inhaled sharply, and finally took his shirt off, revealing his well built upper body to her. Veyza observed his chest, arms and shoulders as if spellbound. What a beautiful bone structure… Those broad shoulders, those refined collarbones, the pecs, and that gorgeous belly, though bloated, with that cute little trail of hair running down into his pants… How dare he hide this beautiful body from her for so long? She gently put her hands on his sides, feeling the goosebumps creep onto his flawless skin. His expression was full of worry, as if he feared she would judge him, but she honestly didn’t know what was there to judge. His sensual, slightly opened lips, just begging to be gently bitten and thoroughly kissed? His cheekbones, sharp enough to cut diamond with? The long, soft locks of hair; a smooth, greyish blue waterfall, a dream of any woman worth dying for? Seeing the normally so sultry eyes of his all soft and full of warmth made her heart pound with utter bliss. There was absolutely nothing on him for her to criticize.

Gods, he was so beautiful. She could barely stop staring.

The dwarf placed a quick kiss on the lightning shaped scar on his cheek.

“Hey, Big D… Didn’t you forget something?”

Dylas swallowed audibly. His pants were still on, and they were painfully cutting into his bloated middle, but he knew once he took them off, he would be entirely exposed to her. He, and his agitated stomach. It was tough for him to admit to his weaknesses, even now. But… he wanted to feel safe with her.

Very gently, he removed her hands from his sides, and started unbuttoning his pants. The relief he experienced when they popped open and gave his belly more room to breathe was beyond words. It took the poor soul all his self control to hold back a satisfied moan when he finally rid himself of this tight prison. Dylas felt much better just being in his underwear; the relaxation was written on his face. Just that view alone was enough to make Veyza feel excited. He was gorgeous when he looked so pleased…! But the moment didn’t last long, as his expression soon changed into something more… awkward.

“Nh… now what?”, he asked.

“Kissies!”, Faye demanded in a playful manner and gently pushed him towards her bed. He stumbled backwards, holding onto her shoulders a little.

“Hey, slow down…!”

“Never! Now I’ve got you right where I want you!”

For a second, Dylas remembered something Leon had said to him a while ago.

When you take her clothes off and wears matching underwear, it’s not you who wanted to have sex tonight.

An intense blush spread across his cheeks as he allowed her to push him onto her bed. She was tiny, but truly a pack of power. This girl knew exactly what she wanted – and how she’d get it. Before the poor guy knew what was happening to him, Faye had pinned his arms above his head, seated herself comfortably on his hips, and started scattering small kisses and bites all over his neck. A small whine came from his mouth as she shifted a little, causing his manhood to react with interest in what was causing the pressure on it. But as much as he enjoyed her kisses and bites, her womanhood pressed against his gentlemansword… He was still so incredibly, horribly, painfully gassy. It was hard for him to get in the mood, especially with her added weight on his already aching middle. He let out an audible moan, but it was more of an expression of discomfort. Right afterwards, a loud gurgle erupted from underneath Veyza’s small body. The dwarf immediately realized what it meant and got back into a straight position, giving his belly more room.

“I’m sorry…”, he panted, sweat forming on his forehead, as well as on the side of his churning gut.

“No, I’m sorry… I should have paid more attention…”

She carefully ran her hands across his sides and towards his abdomen, feeling the low, deep rumbles within, as well as the strange popping noises and the squelching. It felt like his insides were all over the place, helplessly attempting to juggle the gas inside. Her boyfriend’s pained, desperate expression tore right through her heart. She felt a bit guilty for taking him with her instead of letting him go home. The best she could do… was make him feel at home.

“Dally… why don’t you just let it out?”

“What?! Forget about it…!”

“Oh come on! It’s natural! We all have gas sometimes! Also… what’s the use of being with me if you’re going to be in pain all night…?”

He sighed, covering his face with both his hands. Just the mere thought was awfully humiliating. Did he really have to be the first one to cross the burp and fart barrier? It was the last thing he wanted. But… it grew increasingly harder to hold it in… and without all this gas, it would definitely be much easier for him to get in the mood for… other things.

“Ugh… fine…”, Dylas groaned, gesturing her to leave his pelvis. Veyza did as she was asked, allowing him to sit on the edge of the bed. Even though his eyes were pressed shut and his facial skin bright red, the anticipation for the release in his expression was clearly visible. The loud gurgles and groans consistently coming from underneath his belly button made it pretty obvious how much he needed it.

“Are you… sure I shouldn’t go outside or…”

“It’s okay, Big D. Really.”

She sincerely thought so. Going outside would mean he would be embarrassed, still. But she believed there was no reason for him to be; not anymore. Dylas was generally a very awkward and taciturn person. It had taken him many, many months to warm up to her, any even longer to get this close to her. It had taken her forever to gain his trust, and to get him to be truthful about his feelings. Honesty and mutual trust was what a good and stable relationship was built on, or at least, so she heard. So she wanted him to trust her and feel safe around her, in every possible way. She wanted him to know she would never judge him, and it was honestly, absolutely, okay for him to be vulnerable – or gassy, in this case.

Dylas bit his lower lip, the gas painfully working itself through his insides. As much as he tried to, he just couldn’t forget about his girlfriend sitting next to him… it was so embarrassing. He wished he could just be alone for a few minutes. But it didn’t seem like she would let him. So he was left no choice but to…

BUUUUUURRRRP!!

The young man immediately, reflexively covered his mouth; his cheeks burning with shame. He hadn’t expected the first belch to be so unholy and loud already, but Gods, it felt good to let it out! He couldn’t help but whimper. Faye felt her face turn red as well. Was it sympathy? Awkwardness? She wasn’t sure. The one thing she was sure of, though, was that she loved that look on his face. That mixture of embarrassment, discomfort and pleasure… she had no words. Dylas wanted to apologize, but he felt the next belch working itself up his throat in this very moment.

Guuuurrrrgleee… rrruuuUUUUURRRRP!!

Even though he hadn’t taken his hands from his mouth, the loud burping sound had barely been muffled by them at all. His ears were moving back and forth anxiously. His gut was still rumbling ominously. And he definitely didn’t seem satisfied yet. Veyza bit her lower lip, unable to take her eyes off his face. This new, unusual expression awoke something deep inside her. She was so used to seeing this stern, rough stallion; it was oddly refreshing to see him with such a helpless look.

He was… so cute.

This time, the gas seemed to shift down instead of up, and she could tell by his panicked grimacing that he wanted this even less. For some reason, the dwarf girl grew excited at the thought. She was eager to see what he looked like when he experienced that kind of relief.

Deep down, she was hoping he would moan a little.

Dylas shifted, his rear facing away from her, and hung his head in shame as the thunder rumbling through his intestines found its way to daylight.

BBBRRRRRRRPPPPPTTT!!

“Aah…!”

That whine…! Faye’s clit was actually twitching by now. Gods, why did this turn her on so much?

“I’m so sorry…”

“Please… don’t apologize…!”

Dylas finally dared to turn his head towards her, surprised to see what expression she was wearing. She looked awfully giddy, her nails dug into her bedsheets and her body all cramped up. Was she holding back her laughter?

“Go on, laugh at me… I deserve it…”

“N-no, I would never…!”

Veyza was an honest soul. But if she wasn’t going to laugh, what was that body language about? The monster man looked down at his own feet, unable to handle the shame. He felt like he could never look her in the eyes again… Just by chance, as he turned his head, Dylas caught a quick glance at her privates, and was more than surprised to see that her panties were soaked. Was this still from before…?!

“Faye…!”

“W-what?”

“Are you… is… am… you….”

“I… what?”

Gods, this was so awkward. How could he possibly ask her what was on his mind? His heart was racing. He was hoping for the ground to open up underneath him and drag him right into oblivion.

“Did that… turn you on?”

Oh no. Now Faye felt the same way. Now it was her cheeks that grew bright red.

“Mh… maybe.”

Dylas felt a wave of heat rush through his body. His belching and farting had actually turned her on? Was she serious? That was probably the weirdest, and yet most… intriguing moment of his life. Suddenly, he wasn’t as ashamed anymore. In fact, he was rather… curious.

“So… you’re into that…?”

“I guess…”

“Why… didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know either…”

They both shared an awkward chuckle. All of a sudden, Dylas reached for his partner’s hand, causing her to jerk a little, but she was soon captivated by his intense, amber eyes.

“You know… I’m still pretty gassy…”

“You mean… gassy like a horse…?”

He grunted in disapproval, squeezing her hand a little, but he wore a smile on his lips.

“Yeah. Gassy like a horse.”

“My… what do we do about that…”

This was new for both of them, but it felt like their bodies knew exactly how this worked. Veyza was instantly drawn to him again, and found herself slipping over to him, her aroused womanhood seemingly guiding her. With no hesitation, she began to place kisses on his neck again, slowly moving up to his face, and soon working on his bottom lip. Dylas pulled her closer and seated her on his lap, joining the fiery smooch. Gratefully, he opened the strap of her bra, and caressed her breasts with one hand each. While she slid her tongue into his mouth with a soft moan, he noticed Faye’s hands reaching for his still bloated middle. As she began to passionately tease his tongue with her own, he felt her warm fingers rubbing his agitated gut. Before Dylas could do anything about it, another belch erupted from his mouth, right into hers.

Uuuuuurrrrp…

As if to show her approval, Faye moaned into his mouth and began to grind her womanhood against his thigh, causing his member to grow harder within seconds. She was really into that! He could barely believe it. Fervently, he took off her bra, threw it behind himself and pushed her from his lap onto the bed. She sunk down with a yelp and caught a quick glance at his aroused member pushing against his underwear before he pinned her down by her arms, just the way she had done it before, and scattered kisses all over her chest.

“Oh fuck, baby…!”, she gasped, experiencing nothing but thrill at the most disliked part of her body being worshipped like this. Dylas softly purred into her skin, his tail flopping frantically. From the corner of her eye, his girlfriend saw said tail rising slowly.

FRRRRRRAAAAPPRRRRTT!!

He moaned blissfully at the relief it caused him. Heavens, that felt so good! The smell that soon filled the room drove Veyza almost to the edge of an orgasm.

“By the Gods…!! Dally, don’t make me cum without you inside me!”

Oh, he definitely didn’t want that! Greedily, he pulled her panties off her hips ands thighs, and allowed himself a quick look at her womanhood as he dropped her underwear at the other side of the bed. Of course, she didn’t want to be excluded. After she allowed him to admire her for a little while, she practically clawed at his boxers, roughly pulling them off. Dylas couldn’t hold back a few whimpers as it brushed against his erect member, causing the young woman to helplessly bite the back of her hand in order to keep herself calm. She knew she called him Big D for a reason. He was so unbelievably sexy! Now that she was so aroused, the dirty desires just wouldn’t stop pouring in.

I wanna blow you while you fart. Give me your tongue, and burp into my pussy. Please, just sit on my face and fart on me.

Dylas observed her face with an almost loving expression, eager to find out what was on her mind.

“What are you thinking about, princess?”

“Nothing… Everything…”, she panted, giving him a bit of an embarrassed look.

“I have… a different idea… Are you still gassy…?”

The young man gently slowly lowered his middle towards her face. Veyza gasped, turned her head to the side a little, and allowed his noisy gut to rest on her ear. It was still very active, churning and groaning as it zealously destroyed the dinner he’d had earlier. Faye found herself whining as a particularly loud rumble caused his skin to vibrate right against her ear.

“Oh heavens, baby… it wants to come out…”

“It really does…”

“I want to smell it…”

“Are you sure?”

He lifted his middle from her head, and Faye nodded devotedly.

“Yeah… please, Big D, sit on my face… We can fuck after you’re done using me as your seat…”

The horse man chuckled lowly. His member began to throb at her request, sending a shiver down his girlfriend’s spine.

“As you wish, princess…~”

The dwarf was so excited when Dylas turned around that she legitimately had to stop her body from jerking on its own, like a chihuahua. She whined with anticipation when she saw his butt actually lower down towards her face. His tail tickled her nose for a moment before it was flopped out of the way, and she saw her boyfriend’s twitching butthole just for a few seconds before it was placed directly between her mouth and nose.

God, that was so hot!

She couldn’t help but moan loudly as she dug her nails into his sides. He grunted, shifting a little. Perfect, now she got even more of his scent up her nose. The girl shut her eyes to fully enjoy the moment, and gently began to caress Dylas’ butthole with her tongue. Simultaneously, she reached for his member with one of her hands, and rubbed the side of his belly with the other. She’d told him from the start, she was good at multitasking! Yet it seemed to have caught him by surprise. He grunted, holding onto her hand while it was circling across his belly. She could still feel it rumbling, and gosh, did it make her happy!

Dylas could barely believe he was actually getting his ass eaten for the first time. He found himself covering his mouth, his cheeks flaming. That was something he could never see himself doing… and yet, here he was – and it felt amazing. With Faye’s skilled tongue stroking his sensitive anus and occasionally poking through to his rectum as well, he quickly grew harder inside her hand, a few drops of pre cum making their way out of his tip.

No, not yet…!

He bit the back of his hand in a desperate attempt to fight down his arousal. He didn’t want to cum yet. Not while he wasn’t inside her yet! His penis throbbed almost painfully, causing his hips to jerk on their own. He was so tensed up, trying to keep his rock hard gentlemansword under control, that a few tiny farts slipped right into Faye’s mouth.

“Hngh… I’m so sorry…! I can’t hold it!”

She patted the side of his belly and gave him the ok hand, even though she was gagging a little. Her reaction was so oddly arousing to him… and if she kept touching him like that, he wouldn’t be able to pull himself together much longer… Occasional drops of cum ran down his member, onto her hand, and his voice only grew needier as he attempted to keep it down. Dylas soon found himself moaning her name over and over again while she caressed his asshole and jerked him off at the same time while he squeezed her free hand. His belly cramped and rumbled, making him moan her name loudly.

“That’s gonna be nasty”, he grunted to himself and ripped a massive wet fart, right into her face, followed by a relieved, high pitched groan from his throat. Just a few seconds later, Faye’s entire body succumbed to an orgasm, violently shaking as the heat filled her up inside. She moaned a muffled version of his name into his ass, clinging to his middle. Just the view got him so incredibly riled up, he couldn’t even make it to her pussy in time before his orgasm took over. He shed his seed all over his own belly, pelvis and his girlfriend’s chest, calling her name and tightly squeezing her hand while doing so.

#

“Hey, Big D?”

“Mmh?”

“Do you think I’m gross…?”

The young man lifted his head and gave her a surprised look. That was not the question he had expected.

“Why would I think you’re gross?”

Veyza bit her lip, narrowing her eyes. Her ears were bright red, like little strawberries.

“In case you forgot, I got aroused by your gas and had an orgasm to you farting on my face.”

“How could I possibly forget.”

His butthole still felt a little bit sore.

Dylas removed some hair from her face with his index finger and ran it down her cheek. The tender smile on his face was enough to make an iceberg melt, and the dwarf girl’s heart was certainly not an exception.

“I don’t think you’re gross. In case you forgot… It turned me on, too.”

He playfully pinched her cheek, causing her to erupt into a childlike giggle. She held his hand towards her face with a grateful smile.

“Dally… I think we were made for each other.”

“You know what? I think so too.”

Yes… she was the only one who had managed to make him feel this way all his life. He had met people from two different time periods. And Veyza… was the first who had managed to get through to him. She accepted and loved him in his entirety. The least he could do was do the same for her. The monster man placed several small kisses on her forehead, her nose, and finally, her mouth; then, he allowed a tiny belch to slip as a grand finale. Veyza burst into bright laughter.

“I’ll get you back for that!!”

“Oh yeah? You have to come and get me first!”

He was surprised by her powerful grip as she hugged him and dragged him down with her.

“Come cuddle, you big, dumb horse!”

“Make me, you puny, ugly dwarf!”

They shared a passionate, intense kiss, expressing nothing but unfiltered love for each other. It filled them with pure joy to know their partner accepted them exactly for who they were, and they could entirely be themselves around each other.

[dutchsonjaa]

Fundy, can I tell you a terrible thing?

Song: Terrible Things by MayDay Parade

TW: Death, housefire, slight PTSD?

By the time I was your age I’d give anything

A young fox is diligently dusting the shelves as another day is slowly coming to an end. The song Wilbur is strumming on his guitar in the other room is familiar to Fundy, having heard it from Sally’s lips as he grew up. Picking up some old papers scattered around on the desk, Fundy starts quietly humming along, feeling content. Opening a drawer to store the papers, Fundy curiously picks up an old seemingly hand carved box hidden under a layer of dust.

To fall in love truly was all I could think

               “Hey Dad..?”, Fundy calls over his shoulder as he gently holds the box, finding it oddly light in his paw. As he’s inspecting it more closely, anxious that even breathing on it could shatter this mysterious treasure, he realizes there are waves carved into the box’s sides. Fundy doesn’t notice that the tune flowing from the other room has stopped quite abruptly as he carefully opens the latch holding the box closed, and peers inside.  

That’s when I met your mother, the girl of my dreams

Fundy sucks in a breath as his eyes fall onto two beautiful silver rings, the topaz carefully lain on top of each of them glistering in the afternoon sunlight entering the room. The fox barely feels the hand on his shoulder, but he still manages to peer his eyes from the jewelry to meet his father’s eyes. Wilbur takes in a deep breath as he gestures for Fundy to follow him, and for the first time Fundy realizes with a pang how tired his father looks, heavy bags under his eyes. As he follows his father into the living room, Wilbur turns to him, muttering something as he strokes his hand through his brown hair.

               “Let’s take a seat, Fundy. Let me tell you about your mother”.

The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen

Gently putting down the rings down on the coffee table on front of them, letting go of them almost involuntarily, Fundy allows himself to get comfortable on the couch as his father wraps an arm around him. Fundy closes his eyes as he tries to recall his mother’s face as Wilbur’s voice fills the air.

               “Your mother… where to begin? I was patrolling the perimeters of your grandfather’s home when I met her. I needed some time alone, away from Technoblade and dad, and I loved to wander through those woods. The splashing of water ripped me from my thoughts, and I quickly located it to the fast flowing river streaming downhill from the house. Alert for any danger, I crouched closer using the forestry as a disguise, when I first saw her.”

She said, “boy can I tell you a wonderful thing?”

               “Peering through the bushes, my eyes fell on a gorgeous woman, giggling to herself as she was swimming in the river. She didn’t even seem to mind the current pulling at her beautiful ginger hair or the salmon swimming past her in the water. I know I should’ve made a move right away, call her out maybe, but I was lingering, enjoying the view of her as she was bathing herself in the cool water. The snapping of a twig under my boot gave me away before I could come to a decision.”

I can’t help you notice staring at me

A smile crept along on Wilbur’s face as he went on, remembering his lover.

               “She had me on my back before I could even think about defending myself, the only weapon I carried with me, my trusted knife, wretched from my grip was now held sharply at my throat. I felt the sweat run down my face as she hissed at me to explain myself, not even caring about covering her nakedness. Mind raging, I desperately tried to come up with an answer as I lay on my back in the grass, the knee on my chest pressing me deeper in the earth, making sure I couldn’t get away so easily.”

I know I shouldn’t say this, but I really believe

               “I stammered as I gave her the answers she wanted, but they seemingly satisfied her, so she allowed me to see another day. As soon as I felt the pressure being released from my ribs, I climbed clumsily to my feet, stubbornly shaking off her hand as she offered to help me get back up. I had dignity still. I think she knew I was desperately trying to ignore her golden eyes watching me as I was dusting myself, as a smirk soon appeared on her face.

               “Do you always flirt with women this way?”. Her eyes glistened playfully as I looked back up to her, mound agape. One hand on her hip, this woman was playing with her hair as she if was enjoying me stammer out a reply.”

I can tell by your eyes that you’re in love with me

               “A gentleman should always be the first to introduce himself, my grandfather has taught me. Shaking off the embarrassment etched on my face, I held out my hand to her as I gave her my name. In reply, this woman took a step closer and gave me a kiss on the cheek along with her name. Sally. She had to stand on her toes to reach me.

               I’m not really sure how much time we spent together, but soon enough night was falling, and I knew my family would be worried if I stayed away much longer. Last thing I needed was Technoblade coming to look for me. Meeting Sally’s eyes, I requested if I could see her again. Sally pushed the hair from my eyes as she promised me that I needed only come down to the river and I’d find her. As I started to make the long ascend back up the hill to my home, I dared to glance back one more time, wishing to lay my eyes on her one more time, but she was already gone. For a moment, I wondered if I might’ve been dreaming”

Now son, I’m only telling you this because life can do terrible things.

Wilbur stares back into a different kind of golden eyes as he hands his son a glass filled with apple juice. Their son had inherited his mother’s eyes and spirit, Wilbur knew. Looking into those golden eyes, Wilbur was glad to still have some of Sally’s eyes in his life.

Fundy held his glass in his paws as he broke Wilbur’s gaze, letting his eyes slide back to the box sitting on the table in front of them instead. Wilbur followed his eyes as he took a careful sip from his drink, before continuing with his story.

 Now most of the time we had too much to drink, and we’d at the stars and share everything

               “That night, I couldn’t get Sally off my mind, her beautiful golden eyes having pierced my soul. Come morning, I barely took the time to eat before I headed back down to the river, dread setting in as she was nowhere to be found. With a sigh, I found a soft place in the grass, still wet with the morning dew, and brought out my guitar as I continued working on my new song. As my voice drifted over the water, one of the salmon living in the stream ascended closer to the surface and seemed to be watching me, seemed to be listening.

Curiously, I leaned forward a little, guitar still in my hands. The salmon swam around gracefully to the music, Setting my guitar to my side in the grass, I crept a bit closer, wanting to investigate. Instead of answers, I got a face full of water. As I wiped the water from my eyes, my mouth fell wide open, transformed into a human just before my eyes. Where a salmon had been living in the stream moments before now stood Sally, looking back at me shyly as she fidgeted with the beautiful green dress she was wearing.”              

Too young to notice and too dumb to care

               “The next few days, I spent a lot of time with Sally, but I hadn’t dared to ask her the lingering questions. Instead, I went to wisest man I knew to ask him about her kind. I went to my father.

Your grandfather isn’t stupid, he had guessed long ago I had someone on my mind. I gladly sat down with him as I listened to his tales about past loves, before he questioned me about mine. The desperation in his voice shook me as I described her transformation from a salmon to a woman. He… warned me”, Wilbur spoke softly as he avoided his son’s eyes,” about the grievance a shapeshifter carries with them. I didn’t want to hear, I didn’t want to know, so instead of being reasonable, I stormed out that night. Philza let me go, and unsurprisingly, my feet lead me back to that same river”.  

Love is a story that couldn’t compare

               “As I sat on the shore, staring into the water as my mind was being crammed by thoughts, a salmon swam back to the surface. Soon enough, Sally stood before me, wearing that same beautiful dress that brought out the color in her hair. Sitting down next to me in the grass, she didn’t pry. She just put her head on my shoulder and whistled the song I sung a few nights ago as we watched the stars together.

               The night dragged on as we sang, laughed and enjoyed each other’s company. Looking at her beauty, my heart beat a little faster in my chest as I whispered her name, forgetting my father’s warning. The starlight shone in her eyes as she met my gaze. That’s when I first kissed her and to my relief, she kissed me back. Meeting each other’s eyes, we laughed a bit awkwardly, before our lips met again as I dragged her down with me in the grass and she fumbled with my collar. That night, I took her maidenhood as she stole my heart, and I knew I loved her.”

I said, “Girl can I tell you a wonderful thing?”

Fundy looked like he was about to puke. “I don’t need to know where and mom laid!”, the fox yelled out, sickened. Wilbur just laughed as he scuffed his son over his head before digging back in his memories.

               “As soon as I came back home next morning, I knew I was screwed as I met Technoblade waiting for me on the porch. His violet eyes tore right through me and to my horror, he knew exactly where I had been. Might be that he had guessed from my disheveled appearance, but he always claims he has lain with many women in his youth anyway. I punched him in the chest as he teased me, and soon enough, we were wrestling on the ground. I was once again eating dirt as our father came outside on the porch, having heard the sounds of our little play fight.

               “Wilbur fucked a girl!”, Technoblade yelled out before I could say anything. I felt myself grow red in the face as Philza’s gaze slid over to me.

I made you a present with paper and string

               “Philza clearly tried to look stern, but he couldn’t hold it for long. Laughter soon erupted from his throat, and Technoblade quickly joined him, his thundering laugh echoing through the trees. Wiping a tear from his eye, laughter was still in his voice as my father clasped me on the shoulder.               “Okay, but seriously Wilbur, although I’ll have to congratulate you on finally becoming a man, didn’t I tell you-“. I didn’t want to hear no more. Shaking off his hand,  I looked my father straight into his eyes as I spoke those words clearly.

               Keeping my voice steady, I remember my family’s voices clearly as I admitted my love for Sally, and Technoblade’s “Bruhh” as I told them about my plans on marrying this woman.

Open with care now, I’m asking you please

Carefully picking up Sally’s ring, Wilbur silently studied the jewel. The little ornament was far from perfect, with its little dents and cuts, but Sally had loved it nonetheless. With a sigh, Wilbur gently put it back in its case, along with the other. The way the box was designed, the gemstones on the rings pointed towards each other, as if reaching out to each other. Like it should be.

               “The silence that filled the air seemed to drag on forever. Shock, concern and many other emotions washed over Philza’s face, but as he pulled me into a tight embrace, he whispered into my ear that I’d always have his blessing. Technoblade ran a hand through my hair, and as I complained that he messed it right up, he offered his aid to help me craft the rings. I gladly listened to his craftsmanship’s advice, but made it clear I had to do the crafting part myself. I knew my father was watching me as I gathered the minerals and I knew Technoblade had carried me to bed after falling asleep on the workstation one too many times. You know Fundy,” Wilbur spoke as he raised his hand to reveal a small scar, “It wasn’t an easy job.”.

You know that I love you, will you marry me?

               “That faithful day, I remember it like yesterday. My legs felt like lead and the wooden box that I had so gingerly carved which contained the rings felt heavy in my pocket, but I only had eye for Sally’s beauty as she was waiting for me on the shore, a wide smile showing on her face as she waved back at me.

               As I got down on one knee, she thought I was joking at first. She choked on her words as she was scolding me when she realized it wasn’t a joke, and squealed with delight. The nerves made my fingers clumsy, and as she tackled me to the ground, I dropped the ring. Her ring. Without thinking, I scrambled up and went after it as it fell into the river. Sally screamed after me as I dove right after it, and to my horror, the current dragged my feet out from under me. The last thing I remember was Sally rushing towards me as the waves closed over my head, the raging river carrying me down the stream. I thought I was done for, but I woke up in my own bed, listening to the voices of Sally and Philza talking softly together in the living room”. Wilbur smiled to himself, remembering. “I hope I’ll get to meet your future lover in a different matter Fundy”. Wilbur laughed, giving his son a friendly push as Fundy jokingly stuck out his tongue at his father.

 Now I’m only telling you this because life can do terrible things

Wilbur pinched his nose, getting rid of the last giggles before sitting back in the couch with a sigh and continuing with the story.

               “It was a beautiful day when she pulled me into an embrace and told me she was with child. To my shame, her delight soon turned to horror however, as I took a hesitant step back, mumbled something inaudible before turning around and just… fled. I panicked, and left her standing alone in the grass as I ran. I ran and I ran and I ran, feeling from my responsibilities as far as my legs could take me, until I couldn’t run no more. It was Technoblade who found me, sitting under the shelter of a tree with my head in my hands. You see Fundy, however tough your uncle may act, he’s a very good listener. We talked all afternoon, and his taunts made me laugh. He made me realize what I truly wanted.

Tears were rolling down her cheek as Sally was waiting for me as I descended down the hill back to the shore. I found myself wondering how long she had stood there. She was angry with me, and I knew I very well deserved it. She gave me a choice that night. I could leave her, and she would let me go, but I’d be forbidden to seek her out ever again or ever see our child. Or, she told me as she put a put a hand on my cheek, her golden eyes meeting mine as she gave me the second option. Or we could be happy together. Our child would know both a mother and a father, and we’d be a family. We’d live our lives together and grow old together. I took her hand in mine as I made her that promise.”. Wilbur felt a pang of sorrow running through his chest as he remembered. “If only I could keep that promise”.  

 You’ll learn one day, and I hope and I pray God treats you differently

Wilbur’s voice felt dry, and he dreaded telling the next part of the story. He had to swallow past the lump in his throat as he looked over at Fundy.

               “How about a drink for your old man?”. Fundy nodded slowly before dragging his feet to the kitchen, feeling the cold floor under his paws. As the fox absentmindedly poured some juice into two clean glasses, almost spilling one as he was lost in thought.

Fundy knew this next part would be hard to hear, but he had begged his father so many times to tell him. Wilbur had refused until now, telling Fundy he was protecting him against the truth. Fundy let out a sigh. The truth hurt sometimes, he knew. He had to know. He had to sit it through.

               After Fundy had set the glasses back on the coffee table, he crawled on the couch next to his father and buried his muzzle into the man’s chest, just like when he was just a cub. Something seemed to soften in those hazel eyes of his father as his hand gingerly stroke Fundy’s fur, and Fundy closed his eyes.

 She said, “boy can I tell you a terrible thing?”

               “I couldn’t keep my promise”, Wilbur sighed. “We were happy for a short while, it’s true. We built a little cabin near the place where I proposed to her and made it our home. Turning a deaf ear to my complaints, Sally was clear to where she stood about her helping me build the cabin. We’re a family now, she told me. Families do everything together.

               Pregnancy wasn’t gentle on Sally, but I promised her I’d stay, and stay I did, trying to comfort her the best I could during those long nights and exhausting days she suffered. If pregnancy was hard though, the birth was even harder. I almost lost you both.

I might’ve lost you if it weren’t for my own mother to help, having already predicted the hardship Sally would go through with bringing you into this world. She saved you, despite being heavy with child herself, and kept me busy so I wouldn’t panic too much. Sally screamed as she gave that last push, and I could barely feel the pain in my hand she was squeezing so tight as something shattered in my chest when I first laid eyes on you. Your screeching might’ve deafened the whole forest, but we only had eyes for you as my mother laid you on Sally’s chest. Trembling, I cautiously brought my hand through the curly ginger tuft on your head, and both Sally and me wept with you.”

It seems that I’m sick and that I’ve only got weeks

Wilbur took a gentle sip from his drink, avoiding his son’s eyes.

               “Your first few years were uneventful and we lived happily together as you grew, our small little family in our cottage in the woods. There was talk about a sibling, but it never came to be. The thing I dreaded most happened shortly after your fourth birthday; you showed the first signs of being a shapeshifter. Ginger fur where there shouldn’t be, a lengthened, disfigured nose, hands that started to look like paws at will… Soon enough, you were able to create a full fox tail, much to Sally’s delight. She celebrated your powers.

               Fearing what others might do if they knew, I tried to teach you to hide these powers of yours, resorting in even scaring you a little, but I thought it to be necessary. There are people who would hunt people like you down if they knew, Fundy. We kept you mostly hidden, only allowing you to play with just one boy your age; my younger sibling, Tommy. Even then, we were cautious that something were to happen.”

Please don’t be sad now, I really believe

               “Sally was cautious about the risks as well, of course she was. She had known what it was like to be hunted down herself in the past, and barely escaped with her life. Still, she probably wished we could’ve granted you some more freedom, and didn’t want you to completely deny your powers. Your powers were a gift, she said and despite my complaints, she started to teach you about them. Many arguments followed and you were witness to some. Many more words should’ve been left unsaid.

Remembering my father’s warning, I felt myself grew distant after each argument, yet even though I wanted to, I never did anything to really prevent it. Instead, I started to stray further away from home, which only caused more heated arguments as I stumbled back home more than once, alcohol on my breath”.

Wilbur gently put his hand on Fundy’s cheek. “You know I would never hurt you, right? Anyway, after one of those arguments, I sat alone outside, deeply sunk in thought and misery as I watched the river where I met your mother. You saw me, and were excited to play with me, and even more thrilled to show off your fox howl, so you ran over to greet me. To your terror, I was less than excited about the powers you were developing so rapidly, but I never should’ve snapped at you. You ran back inside and I knew I had screwed up. What followed was the biggest argument I had with Sally so far, and I guess that she decided that enough was enough. Her ring hit me in the face as she threw it at me, and you stared at me with huge eyes, hiding behind your mother’s skirt as I packed my stuff.

You were the greatest thing that ever happened to me

Fundy’s memories were hazy, but he did remember that dreadful day that his father left. He had pleaded with him, begging him not to go. He had blocked the front door with boxes, trying to stop him from leaving. He had dragged along his father’s arm, pushing his heels in the dirt trying to slow him down. Every effort had been fruitless and his father had left.

               “I will never forget the look in your eyes, that broken hearted look, as your mother embraced you tightly. I didn’t want to look back, I didn’t mean to, but I did. You were calling after me as I left, and my heart was breaking, but I kept walking.” Wilbur’s voice cracked. “I never should’ve left, maybe she would’ve….”

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Wilbur went on. “I promise you I still tried to be there in your life Fundy, I really did. You were still my son, and no one would ever be able to tell me that I had meant to abandon you. Yet even though both Sally and me tried to act happy for your sake, and you seemed to be glad to see me, the tensions were high between Sally and me every time I was around. I often felt like an outsider, and started to visit less and less, watching you grow as if I were a stranger watching you from afar. Yet I still loved your mother Fundy, and if I knew what was going to happen, I hope you believe me, I would’ve-“

 Slow, so slow, I fell to the ground on my knees

Tears were running freely over Wilbur’s cheeks now, his father no longer trying to contain them, and Fundy realized that the fur on his cheeks was stained as well. Fundy looked at the man sitting next to him, the man who was supposed to be his father, he knew he still resented the man. Fundy loves his father, it was true, but if he had been there when they had needed him most…

Fundy didn’t need to hear the next part of the story, for he knew. Their eyes often appeared in his dreams, the men hunting him down as if he was simply a little tasty piece of prey. He remembered their smell, too, and Sally’s screams.

               Fundy liked to wander the forestry around their little cabin, feeling restless in the clammy old hut he shared with his mother. He was growing up fast, and the woods were calling for him. The forest was dense around here, the trees growing close together, casting long shadows. As long as he’d stray far from the nearby village, and his mother was too occupied with swimming along her kind in the stream, having changed her skin, Fundy reasoned no one would know. He might even make his mother proud. If only he could change into his full fox form yet… for now, he’d have to do with a longer muzzle, and stronger paws to dig up his prey.  

So don’t fall in love, there’s just too much to lose

               “They were hunting when they found you..”, Wilbur mumbled, but Fundy barely heard his father’s voice. He remembered how the rabbit squealed in his jaws as he dragged it’s fluffy bottom out from its hole, when he heard a surprised shout coming from behind him. Letting the rabbit fall to the forest floor, Fundy spun around as his prey ran back to hide. Fundy’s heart beat heavy in his chest as he came face to face with three men watching him curiously. On their persons, the men carried nets, guns and all sort of hunting gear, and the biggest was dragging a young deer over his shoulder. Hunters, Fundy realized with a pang.

               “Here, here, it’s okay”, one of the men spoke softly, kneeling down in front of him as they saw Fundy cower away, looking for an opening whilst all the same trying to hide his muzzle. His vision was blurring, and Fundy realized he was crying. A second voice spoke, but Fundy was too busy desperately trying to calm his breathing to hear. A hand reached out for him, a soothing noise coming from the man’s lips, but Fundy didn’t fall for it. He snarled and bit towards the hand, and the man quickly pulled back. That’s when Fundy saw it. The third man seemed to have been injured, for Fundy realized the man had a limp. He could escape. Ducking under the reach of the first man, Fundy snarled at the second another time, and saw the opening. He sprinted towards it, heart pounding in his chest as he heard the shouting behind him, and ran. The voices were jeering now, but Fundy tried to block them out as he used the woods to his advantage as he fled.

“Run, little fox. Run back home now”.

If you’re given the choice, then I’m begging you choose to walk away, walk away.

               “They tracked you down straight to your house”. Fundy’s breathing came in gasps as his eyes widened at the thought of reliving those memories.

               Barely feeling the branches hitting him in the face, Fundy ran straight back home from the woods, tears streaming down his cheeks. He just wanted his mother. Fundy let out a gasp of relief as the trees thinned out and the cabin appeared in his vision, and he sprinted a little faster. He would be home soon, and he’d be safe.

Banging on the door, screaming for his mother, Fundy fell inwards as his mother opened it. Panting at the doormat, Fundy was relieved when his mother knelt down beside him, asking him to tell her what was wrong. Fundy just buried his face in her chest, taking in the sweet scent of his mother, and allowed himself to calm down.

That’s when he heard the voice.  

Don’t let it get you, I can’t bear to see the same happen to you....

“Fundy! Hey, Fundy, calm down!”. Fundy could barely hear his father calling for him as he was caught in his memories, unable to escape their grip.

               Fundy spun around, recognizing the voice as Sally stepped outside the doorway to have a closer look. “Mom!”, he called, as Sally dodged just in time to avoid an arrow being aimed for her chest. Fundy could barely hear the words as his mother spun around to yell commands at him, but he knew what he had to do. Hide. Almost immediately, remembering their training, Fundy ran into his mother’s bedroom opposite from the front door and hid in the closet, peering through a crack just in time to see his mother slamming the front door shut.

Fundy let out a small yelp when the door shattered before Sally was able to block it, and Sally took a few steady steps back as a man stepped through the opening. A knife appeared seemingly out of nowhere in Sally’s grip, and when Sally’s questioning was only answered by a smirk, Fundy held his breath as Sally, despite her smaller size, jumped onto the man’s chest. Two other men, once again Fundy recognized these men from the woods, rushed inside as the first sunk to the floor, blood oozing from a wound in the man’s neck. Surprised gasps came from the other two men as they saw what happened to their friend. Fundy held his breath as he watched his mother once again demand they’d leave. When the men stepped closer once again, towering over Sally.

Fundy tried to steady his trembling hands as he opened his messenger bracelet, reaching out for his father. Surely Wilbur would come… Moments slipped by as raised voices came from the living room, and dread filled Fundy as the call went unanswered. He was just about to try again as a scream came from the living room. Shooting up his head, Fundy saw with shock that one of the men had managed to give Sally a nasty cut across her face, and his mother was bleeding. Rage filled Fundy as he pushed open the closet and let out a growl rumble in his throat. If his father wouldn’t come, he would. Leaping, Fundy sprang right into battle.

He landed on the back of one of the men and used his razor sharp claws to cut into the man’s shoulders and neck.  The man let out an angry scream as blood ran down his arms, but he had been ready for an attack from behind. The air was driven from Fundy’s chest as the man drove his back until the wall behind him, crushing Fundy’s small body. Fundy let out a small whimper as he fell to the floor, cowering as the shadow of the man fell over him. A sword was raised to make the killing blow.. Fundy squeezed his eyes shut.

“Stay away from my son, you craven!”.  Sally blocked a blow from the man she was fighting before running over to drive her knife in the shoulder of the second, moments before he could bring down the sword on the young fox, cowering against the wall. Fundy somehow found his feet when his mother screamed at him to run, as the first man was approaching her again. And Fundy ran.

Despite never having walked the path alone before, Fundy’s paws took him straight up the hill, quickly making the ascend up to his grandfather’s house. A young boy approached him in the yard, light blue eyes greeting him happily as Tommy asked him if he was coming to play, but Fundy ran right past him. There were more important manners to do than play right now.  Out of breath, Fundy managed to explain the situation to his grandfather as he found him in the kitchen and Philza quickly summoned Fundy’s uncle, Technoblade, to come with him. Young Tommy watched them with wide eyes as the men grabbed for their swords, Fundy urging them on for them to be quicker.

Fundy fell to his knees in front of what he had called his home his whole life as the fire now roared on inside. The young fox throat was stinging, whether or not it was from the screaming or the smoke that hung thick in the air, as he cried his mother’s name over and over again. Philza was desperately trying to douse the flames whilst trying to find out if Sally was still in there, as Technoblade was scanning the perimeters for any tracks. Every now and then, the two men yelled something at each other. At some point, Fundy’s grandmother must’ve arrived, for a soft blanket was thrown over his shoulders and he was gently helped back to his feet before being led away as Philza climbed inside the now burned out cabin. Tears were running down Fundy’s cheeks as he sat down next to his grandmother at the stream running rapidly in front of what was his home, not hearing what Tommy was saying, but figuring out that the other boy was speaking gently to him as the sun was setting in the distance.  

Now son, I’m only telling you this because life can do terrible things

Panic ran through Fundy’s chest as he felt two arms holding him tight, and he knew the hunters had come back for him. Breathing hard, he wondered how the men had found him after all these years, blocking out the voice that was yelling something to him. Seeing black, Fundy lunged down, jaws closing on the man’s arm. The man’s grip around his shoulders released, and Fundy realized with a pang that it was his own father’s face in front of him.

               “Dad!”, Fundy yelled out as he released his jaws around Wilbur’s arm and sprang back. The taste of blood around his jaws suddenly felt haunting Wilbur said something to him, pain in his hazel eyes as held his bleeding arm. Fundy was pulling on his ears, trying to block out the screaming that he didn’t know was his own, before seeing an opening. Wilbur called out for his son as Fundy ran out the door, but Fundy didn’t hear. He just ran, and ran, and ran.

[the-dead-skwad]

Miss Lestrange Part 1 X Reader X George Weasley

Hello Harry Potter tumblr :) I’ve been writing for years but I’ve only just started writing Harry Potter fic even though I’ve been a fan since book one. I hope you like this one. I know Fred is the favourite Weasley twin but I’m a sucker for George. All feed back is welcome. There will more more parts to follow and my requests are never closed. 

Summary: New student at Hogwarts. Will she fit in? Make any friends? Her heritage will prevent that from happening.  

2491 words. (Slightly longer than I usually write)

You took a deep breath as you stood at the enormous doors to the great hall. Nerves coursed through you, you wiped your clammy hands onto your skirt. Taking a deep breath you heard “Everybody settle down!”  Dumbledore’s voice echo through the stone walls. “We have a new student joining us in her third year and I’m sure you’ll all make her feel welcome. Miss Y/N Lestrange.”

You blew a piece of your crazy hair from your face as the doors opened by themselves. All heads turned to look at you as you walked down the hall. You could hear them whispering. Your cousin stared wide eyed as you past him. Standing at the front in silence you darent even look at anyone till you were gestured to be sorted.

You sat on the wooden stool and before you could even think the hat screamed SLYTHERIN, it hadn’t even touched your head. It was absolutely no surprise given who your parents are. No one cheered just more whispers. You had a gut feeling you were not welcome in Hogwarts.

Taking your seat, the table filled with food and the noise of everyone talking started again. Being so nervous you weren’t that hungry.

“Hey!” you heard a whisper across the table. “Hey Y/N!”

“What?” You looked up at your greasy haired cousin.

“Where have you been? We-“ he paused for a second “The family thought you were dead.”

“Given light of recent events your parents thought it best they take me in and in consequence I have to go here.”

“They knew you were alive?”

“Yeah they just didn’t tell anyone where I was.” A piece of food hit you on the back of your head stopping the conversation. You whipped your head around to see two girls giggling to each other on the table behind you.

“Don’t do that.” Another girl whispered to them “That’s Y/N Lestrange.”

You carried on looking at them in silence, a small smirk crept across your face. “Boo!” The girls almost leapt out their seats. You laughed to yourself and turned back to the table.

Draco laughed nudging his friend sat next to him. You scowled at him “Just because we’re related does not mean I like you.”

The meal finished and everyone got up to leave. You followed the rest of the Slytherin’s to your common room. Draco was hot on your tail “Wait Y/N! Wait!”

“Oh my god!” You spun around to look at him “What do you want?”

“Well you should probably stick with me, you don’t know anyone and you don’t want to be mixing with any unsavoury types.”

You rolled your eyes “And who might that be?” As you spoke you turned around to catch up with the rest of Slytherin and you slammed straight into someone. “Ooh I’m sorry.”

“You’re okay sweetheart.”

You looked up to see a beautiful ginger haired man towering over you. “I erm… wow.”

“George, George Weasley.” He stuck his hand out.

“Y/N-“ You were cut off by Draco pushing past you and stopping in the middle of you both.

“A Weasley? This is exactly what I was just telling you Y/N,” He turned and looked George up and down “Unsavoury.”

“I can make that decision for myself thank you, and if you interrupt me one more time I’ll tell your lovely group of friends the age you stopped wetting the bed.” You could hear George laughing. Draco tried to stutter out some more words. “Go then.” You shooed him away. “Sorry he’s such an asshole.”

A smirk was plastered on his face “You got that right. Oh sorry Y/N this is Fred.”

“Oh wow... There’s two of you.”

George wiggled his eyebrows at you “I hope I see you around.”

“Me too.”

----

Hogwarts was amazing. Yes there was the fact that no one trusted you, most people feared you but at least you had the twins. They never ceased to make you smile. Even the golden trio had warmed to you because of them. You knew they would never fully be your friends giving who your parents are, but you tried. It wasn’t your fault you had to live with what they did, or what they were going to do. They treated you like a sister which was the problem sometimes. Your first year was the hardest papers had your mothers face plastered all over them. She had escaped from Azkaban and no doubt she would be looking for you. Everyday you prayed she wouldn’t find out you were at Hogwarts. The end of the year you went back to Malfoy manor. She never showed up so you thought you would be safe.

--

You sat in the library on a desk while George’s face was buried in a book. “Com one Georgie, there’s no way you can do it.”

He looked up at you and raised his eyebrows “You telling me I can’t do this? Wow, I thought we were friends.”

“I’m not saying you’re not a good wizard. I’m just saying Dumbledore is a hell of a lot smarter and far more powerful than us. I just don’t see that he would have left any loopholes in this.”

“Look.” He threatendly pointed his wand at you “I will get mine and Fred’s name in that goblet.”

You held your hands up “I warned you.” You flicked through a book turning the page not really paying attention to what it was about. Just down the isle opposite to you you could hear some girls whispering. The book slammed closed on its own. You looked down at George and sighed.

He placed a soft hand on your knee “Look you are a powerful witch, of course you do things without your wand. This school can help with that.”

“Thanks Georgie.” You smiled at him. Sliding off the table you plopped down on the chair next to him. “So, you found a date?”

“What?” His throat suddenly dried up.

“For the dance? You found a date yet?”

“Erm, not yet. Fred’s going with Angelina.”

You chuckled to yourself “I know, I saw him earlier in the great hall. You do know if you don’t hurry up Ron will get a date before you.”

“Rubbish!” He sounded offended. “I’ll find someone.” He turned back to his book.

“For god sake George!” You shouted, a girl behind you shushed you. Whipping your head round to face the girl “Shush ya self.” Turning back to George he looked startled “How many god damn hints have I got to give you?”

“Huh?”

“Did Fred get all the brains? If you have forgotten I am a girl… Go with me.”

“You?”

“Don’t sound so horrified.”

He looked shocked “No it’s not that.. I.. I just..”

“Bloody hell man spit it out.”

“I thought you already had a date.. You know I see the way Blaise looks at you.”

You scoffed “Blaise? You must be joking.”

He shrugged “Well I just thought he likes you.. you’re in the same house…”

“George I literally spend every second we’re not in class with you. And Blaise only likes me because my name holds so much power.” You used air quotes for the last bit.

He flicked his hair “Well I will say I’m very flattered.”

“You know I could always go to my common room. I’m sure I could find many dates in there.”

You went to stand but his hand grabbing hold of your wrist made you smile. You turned with a cheesy grin spread across you face, “Yes George?”

He shook his head at you, “Y/N Lestrange will you go to the ball with me?”

“Oh I thought you’d never asked.” You laughed “Yes of course I will.”

He held your hand for a moment longer and watched you as you laughed, feelings started to bubble in his stomach. Your eyes were so beautiful, your laugh contagious, your body… It was probably best of he stopped thinking about your body.

“George?” You waved your hand in front of his face “Lunch?”

--

You smoothed the dress down in front of the mirror, you took a deep breath.

“Wow..” A girls voice came from behind you, you turned to see Pansy “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. So do you, my cousin is a very lucky man.” Out of all of Draco’s friends she was the one that irritated you the least.

She approached you and moved a piece of hair out of your face, it flopped straight back down. “Are you going to tell me who your date is? You know Blaise was quite disappointed.”

“He’s not exactly my type to be honest Pan.”

She chuckled “Well let’s go, can’t leave your mystery man waiting.”

You both walked down the stairs to the main hall together. People were everywhere, all so exciting. Your stomachs were doing flips. You prayed that George hadn’t got the same parcel as Ron because that thing was hideous. You looked down and George stood there looking back up at you, all of a sudden your nerves disappeared. He was perfect. As you approached him you laughed “Well?”

“Fucking hell man.” He breathed out.

“So good then?”

“I can’t even begin to explain how beautiful you look.”

You could hear Pansy and Draco sniggering behind you. You spun around glaring at them, there was no way he was ruining this moment for you. “What?”

“A Weasley?” Draco scoffed.

You raised your eyebrows at them both, as you were about to speak George held onto to your wrist, you turned to look in his eyes.

“It’s no worth It.” His voice was quiet.

You could melt into his eyes, shaking your head to snap out of it you smiled sweetly at him “For you everythings worth it.”

“Oh wow.” It was at that moment as he watched you rip Draco and Pansy to shreds that he was in fact so in love with you. He smiled to himself, this was going to be a problem.

--

It had been going so well, you had spent every moment you possibly could with the twins. You and George had gotten so much closer than you had ever dreamt. But nothing this good ever lasts long. It was the night everyone had etched into their brains. Sitting in the stadium you waved your flag with one hand as George held the other hand, a grin plastered across your face. Neither of you had confessed your love yet. You cheered As the crazy bastards ran into the maze. You looked across to them both. “I gotta say these aren’t exactly spectator sports are they?”

Fred laughed “What? You’re telling me you don’t want to spend your evening staring at a bush?”

“I’ve spent this past year cheering as a fellow classmate almost get killed by a dragon, whatever resides in the bottom of the lake and moving killer bushes.” You pondered for a moment, “Do you reckon they call your parents if your name gets picked? Like hi, is that Mrs Weasley? Yeah just to let you know there’s a very high chance your son will die this year, hope you don’t mind.”

George was staring at you in awe, “I love how your brain works.”

“Thanks, you know what I love?”

He leaned forward onto his hand with hope in his eyes “Please do tell.”

“Hair clippers.” You smiled at both the twins that had frowns plastered across there faces. “Come on guys, just give me like 10 minutes and some clippers.”

“You’re trying to tell me you don’t love my hair?” Fred waved it dramatically.

You shrugged “I’m just saying.”

“I’ll make a deal with you!” George laughed “You cut my hair, I get to straighten yours.”

“But my hair is where I hold all my magical powers. I will be deemed powerless without it.”

He nudged you “You’re so stupid.”

The three of you were laughing and joking so much you barely noticed the contest was almost over. All that was left was Harry and Cedric. Fred made a slight comment about you and George being disgusting as he whispered something in your ear. Your smile quickly faded as Harry appeared in front of the crowd clutching Cedric’s body. The music faded and the crowd stood frozen. Harry’s words rung in your ears “He’s back! Voldemort’s back!” Your heart fell to your stomach, your mouth dried up. Looking up at George with your eyes wide you couldn’t think of what to say.

“Y/N?” You could see how worried he was.

Managing to croak words out “I… I have to go.” Tears started to form in your eyes.

“Don’t leave..” He held as tight as he could to your hand.

“Stay with us.” You both turned to look at Fred. “You’ll be safe at home in the burrows.”

You shook your head “I can’t do that to you guys. I have no idea what’s going to happen, and I would never put you or your family in danger.” Just as you finished talking Draco appeared next to you.

“Y/N we need to get you back to the manor.”

“Fuck that! He’ll know you’re there.” George still wasn’t letting go.

You placed your free hand on his cheek, “I promise you I will come back. I’m not putting you in this situation.” You managed to get out of his grip.

He pulled you back one last time “I love you.”

“I love you too Gerogie.” You put your foreheads together for a second “I’ll be okay, I promise.”

Running through the crying crowd you couldn’t look back. You both reached to the whomping willow and stopped in its shadow. “Draco what are we doing here?”

A green flash from the sky came from further down the field. “Come on.” He said as he ran to it.

You didn’t trust him but you had no idea what was happening. As you ran you could see a woman at the edge of the forest. The closer you got the clearer it became. Narcissa stood there waiting.

Draco ran straight into her arms. Only you really knew what a big softy he really was. She pulled you in for a hug as well. “Are you both ok?”

“Is it true?” You asked “I she back?”

“Yes sweetheart. I’m going to take you home back to the manor. I haven’t told anyone except Draco where you will be. There’s enough rooms and spells to keep you hidden.”

“Thank you.” You looked at your cousin “Are you coming?”

“No, it will look strange if both of us are gone.”

“I understand,” Looking back up the castle you sighed “Will I ever come back?”

Narcissa gave you a gentle smile “If it’s safe enough yes.” She took your hand in hers and looked to Draco “Be safe my boy.” And with that she apparated you both away leaving him stood alone at the edge of the dark forest.

[writing-radionoises]

karma

ship: none, just fyodor & karma

genre: canon compliant

prompt: fyodor can't help but see himself in such a helpless boy.

notes: tw for implied religious abuse and canon typical violence

I rewatched the Karma episode a few days ago and could not stop thinking about Fyodor's perspective of this whole event Honestly I Do Not expect anyone to read this because all my non-ship stuff never does well but... I think we need more complicated Fyodor relationships in our lives

A warm towel dries Fyodor’s once silky hair from the red wine.

His head hurts, though it’s nothing he cannot tolerate. This wouldn’t be the first time a glass bottle has been shattered on his head.

Truthfully, he thinks being hit on the head with a Bible hurts much worse.

The bruises from that would stay for days, his head would throb for hours and hours without end. Just thinking about it made Fyodor’s brows furrow in pain.

“You should just give up, you know,” said the boy from behind him, removing the towel from Fyodor’s hair.

Fyodor estimates he’s not older than 15, young and mistreated. He seems numb to violence and pain at a mass.

Fyodor can’t say he isn’t the same, though.

“Maybe,” he replies, softly as he runs his own fingers through his damp hair.

He will likely smell of wine for the next couple of days… Dry cleaning will be a pain.

“There’s no way to escape, Ace has you cornered,” he explained, looking down at the deep red and purple stains on the fluffy white towel, “It’s better to give in rather than to die.”

“I believe you underestimate me,” replied the Russian man, “I am not new to this situation.”

A slight chuckle comes from the boy, “I admire your bravery, I wish I could be like that… But really, I’m pathetic… I’ve been looking for an escape since I was young, and I still haven’t found one yet. It’s been seven years, I’ve given up on looking for one. I once believed and wanted to become the boss of the Port Mafia, but it’s nothing but a foolish dream now...”

“Ah, I believe I understand,” Fyodor answered, looking up towards the boy.

He did understand, though it wasn’t something he could say aloud. He spent years and years underneath a priest, suffering in pain and certain he’d never escape. Fyodor had spent so long tolerating the pain that he had forgotten he could fight back, he had forgotten he wasn’t helpless.

God left with him a gift, a way to escape.

Without such a gift, Fyodor would be in the exact situation this boy was in. He’d still be under that priest, maybe he’d work in the Church in St Petersburg, and run the youth group.

But he was lucky, and was no longer in such a situation.

“What is your name?” Fyodor asked the ginger boy, who snapped out of his daydream as he looked back at Fyodor.

“Oh, they call me Topaz.”

“Your real name, Зайчик .”

Topaz gave him a strange look, beginning to half mindedly fidget with his collar as he glanced off to the side.

“Karma,” he said, hesitantly as he placed the towel back on Fyodor’s head, “My birth name is Karma. Might I ask what… Whatever you just said means?”

Fyodor chuckles, “Is a term of endearment in Russian, it means bunny. We use it when referring to children.”

A blush came to the face of the boy as he began to dry Fyodor’s hair once more, desperate to distract himself.

“You’re a strange one, Mr. Dostoevsky.”

Fyodor closed in eyes in contentment, tucking a piece of hair behind his ear once more.

“I take pride in that, Зайчик.”

Fyodor clutches his coat a little closer, a ring of keys in hand as his heels click against the tile of the ship.

He had outsmarted Ace, and led him to his own suicide.

It was a simple trick, nothing too complicated and a trick he had already used only a few months prior.

Though, the expense of the trick this time would be the red stains all down his white shirt and Ushanka.

Fyodor found as time went on, the wine smell just made him more and more uncomfortable and angry.

His former home used to smell of nothing but such red wine, it was a disgusting smell that overwhelmed every part of the home.

Even some days today, Fyodor could smell the alcohol on himself.

He would scrub his skin raw and red with every soap imaginable, but the moment he stepped out of the shower, he could only smell the disgusting liquid all over him, infecting every part of his being.

Fyodor much preferred vodka, in comparison to his guardian.

Fyodor bit down on his thumb, continuing to walk to the vault when he saw the familiar boy once more.

Karma.

The boy stared at him with wide eyes, astonished in every way as he looked Fyodor up and down.

“Is he-?” Asked Karma, to which Fyodor nodded.

“He is dead.”

Karma looked down at his shoes, shoving his shaking hands in his pocket as he tried to comprehend such a thing.

Fyodor suspects he thought that he’d never be free of the Port Mafia executive.

It seems that with every moment Fyodor spends with Topaz, he finds himself seeing only more and more of his younger self in Karma.

Fyodor tries not to think about it.

He despises his younger self, letting himself be thrown around the way he was when he was obviously destined for so much more.

Fyodor shook his head, placing the key into the vault lock.’

Never again , he thought to himself, I’m no longer like that.

“How did you-?”

Fyodor only gave the boy a weak smile, “Methods you do not need to know. It was but a simple trick, a mind game between myself and him. Unlucky for him, I am much more experienced in such tricks, and so he lost to me.”

Karma looked Fyodor in the eyes, such an action that shook the Russian man to his very core.

There’s fear in his eyes, yet also confusion, a need for guidance and nowhere to gain such guidance.

“You… Really are the devil.”

Fyodor’s breath catches in his throat as he grasps the files he was searching for, gripping them tightly within his hands.

“You are a devil of a child! An absolute monster! I will reform you into something worthy of God’s love!”

A forced smile comes to his face as he looks back at Topaz.

He was always a good actor.

“I am, it is how I survived such a world as this,” he responds warmly, “The only way to defeat evil is to become evil itself.”

Karma’s brows furrowed in worry.

“Are you certain?” Fyodor nodded, “Of course. I have been on this planet for twenty-three years, fifteen of which were a living hell. To crawl out of hell is to best the devil, and he is hard to impress. And so, I will grant you the most merciful gift.”

A gift from God, he thought, though quickly corrected.

No, a gift from the devil.

Something I had craved most of my youth, and something all those similar to me had also craved.

It is the least I can do for him.

Fyodor pressed his cold hand against Karma’s forehead with a warm, yet saddened grin.

“The gift of death is the most merciful, the kindest gift of them all,” he explained, Karma staring up at him in complete horror and confusion.

Fyodor watches the young boy fall to the floor, the life fading from his eyes in an instant.

His smile falls away, a sigh escapes him as he holds the files close to his chest.

There is very little to do with someone of such weak will, though he couldn’t just leave the boy as is…

It would be too painful. The boy would end up exactly like him.

No one deserves to suffer as he did.

“May you have better luck in the next life,” Fyodor hummed, and continued on.