#this is all exclamation marks cause they are just yelling over each other

[legends-of-time]

The Strength of a High and Noble Hill (Outlander)

Chapter 48: Putting a Reluctant Ring on it 

Masterlist

A loud noise, as if a hand hitting skin, echoes as they reach the stables and a voice sounding rather like Wylie's yelling, "You bitch!" 

Da barges into the stable. Brian and John arrive just in time to see a manure-covered Wylie being held against the stable wall by Da who's also holding a knife against Wylie’s privates. 

"Jamie, no!" Mama cries. 

"She offered me a drink and almost begged me to take it right away! This woman is a despicable succubus!" Wylie accuses. 

Brian tries to lunge at him but John grasps his shoulder stopping him. 

"How dare ye?" Da sneers furiously. 

"Stop! Are you really going to kill someone at your aunt's wedding? It's not worth it." 

Mama's words cause Da to hesitate. He grasps Wylie by his clothes tightly one more time, leaning in. "If I see ye near my wife again, I will kill ye." Da threatens, with every intention of keeping that vow. "Yer understand?!" 

Wylie doesn't answer, too frozen in fear to speak before eventually nodding. Da pushes him against the wall, releasing him, then throws him his walking stick as a signal to get out. Then, trying to preserve what remains of his dignity, Wylie fixes his wig and saunters out the door, not giving Brian and John a glance, with manure on his back. 

"I'm going to go make sure he doesn't make a further fool of himself and spread lies," John whispers to Brian. 

"Of course, thank you," Brian replies. John nods and follows after Wylie. 

Brian walks further into the stables where Mama is now being held in Da's embrace. "Are you okay?" He asks her. 

Mama gives him a smile, her hand cupping his cheek. "Yes, I am. You don't need to worry about me." 

"I always worry about you." Brian retorts. 

"I can fight my own battles. Wylie wasn't a hard man to fight off." Mama's grin is wider now and Brian lets out a soft laugh at that. 

Brian frowns when he then notices a mark on her neck that he swears he hadn't noticed earlier. "What's that?" He bends over and touches Mama's neck with his hand. Brian brings his hand back and stares at what appears to be... mole? 

Brian lets out an exclamation of disgust and Mama winces in embarrassment. 

Da angrily turns away and takes a hundred steps, trying to calm down before rounding on them. "Wha' in the name of Christ, wha' were ye thinkin', Sassenach? Spendin' time alone wi' a man like 'im? I'll leave you alone for a little while and—" 

"He knows Stephen Bonnet." Mama interrupts him. Silence. 

Brian's mind begins to short-circuit. What, no– she can't— 

"Wha'? He told ye this?" Da questions. 

"Wait, wait. 'Knows,' like present tense? Stephen Bonnet is dead. How can he know him?" Brian frantically asks. 

Da and Mama look at each other, and then Da says, "We didna want ye tell ye until it was absolutely necessary. And it appears it now is." 

"Tell me what? He's dead, right? He blew up in the jail." Brian asks, desperately hoping what they're saying isn't true. That the man who hurt his sister isn't still out there. 

"We dinna ken how, but he survived. He's been livin' in Wilmington this whole time." 

The room starts spinning around Brian and the nausea is building. "What? What do you mean? No. He... he's dead. He couldn't have... he's... he's alive?" 

"He is." Mama answers, griping his hand to comfort or maybe ground him. "We've been trying to find a way to him, which is why I went with Philip Wylie. That smuggler he employs in Wilmington, it's him." 

"How long have you two known this?" 

"John Grey told me at Ellen and Roger's weddin'," Da replies. 

Brian's eyes bug out. "You've known all this time and never said anything? Does Ellen know?" 

"She doesna. We didn't want ye te ken any of this until there was a plan in place te end 'im once and for all." 

"And as much as I detest the idea of being within a mile of that man again, Wylie is our way in," Mama adds, reasoning with him. "He's up to his neck in gambling debt. So I thought I could tempt him with a business deal, then maybe he'd set up a meeting. I had a feeling it was Stephen Bonnet. Turns out, I was right. But now, I've thrown him in horse shit and you've threatened to kill him. How are we supposed to get him back on our side?" 

As much of a horrible shock this is to Brian, he is now determined to do whatever he has to so as to see the death of Stephen Bonnet play out. He watches Da as his brain is wracking for an answer. He caresses the beautiful black stallion, an idea forming in his mind. 

"Ye say the man likes te gamble?" 

"Too much. But he doesn't seem to be very good." Mama replies, slightly confused. 

"I have a plan. There's talk of a whist game takin' place later. I can challenge 'im. If and when I win, he'll give us tha' meetin'." 

——

That night Brian paces on the porch of River Run. Rubbing his face in frustration as his mind whirls from angry to worried. 

Da's plan was partly the reason for his anger. The plan was to have a high-stakes card game. If Da wins, he gets the stallion and the chance to negotiate but if Wylie wins, then he gets Mama's golden wedding ring she'd received from his other Dad, Frank. Mama had been rightfully outraged at this as Brian had been too. 

His relationship with his other Father wasn't the strongest but he still meant something to Da, same for Mama. She'd taken both rings off and stormed off with Brian close behind. 

He can't believe what Da was thinking about taking the risk and Brian blatantly refused to take part. To take part in allowing that coward to humiliate and hurt his Mother like this and that is how his mind goes from anger to worry as what if Da loses. 

"Ye tryin' te travel te the other side of the world by burrowin' through the ground, diabhal beag?" 

Brian recognises it right away, but he can't believe it is real. He turns to see Murtagh standing in the shadows beside the building with a grin on his face. 

The biggest smile Brian has had on his face in a long time exploded. "Murtagh!" He cries in utter excitement while being as quiet as he can. Brian collides into him in a massive hug. Murtagh grasps him just as tight. "I can't believe it's you." When they separate, Brian hits him on the shoulder, his voice chokes up from happiness, "What are you doing here? How are you here? Tryon is here with his Redcoats." 

"Ye ken I'm no seen when I dinna want te be." Murtagh retorts with a wry grin. 

"Does Da know you're here?" 

"No, and he canna know. It's too dangerous fer him. I just needed te come and see her before she gives herself te another." 

Brian softens. Jocasta. "You came for her?" 

He nods. "I needed te know if... it doesna matter. I canna stand in the way of her happiness. I love her too much te keep her hostage like that." 

"Please stay, Murtagh," Brian begs. "Please, come back with us to Fraser's Ridge. You don't need to be alone. You have us. Please, don't leave again." 

"I wish I could. I would give anythin' fer a life wi' Jamie and all of ye. But I can't. I have my duty te me men. I must see this through. I'm sorry, lad. I must go before I'm found here." He grasps his shoulder with firm but affectionate and smiles at him, the wrinkles around his eyes coming together. "I'll always be with ye. Ye ken diabhal beag?" 

Brian nods tearfully. Then, like he had been a dream, he's gone. 

——

The next day, Brian is relieved that Mama has not lost either of her rings as Da has won the game, keeping both rings safe and winning Wylie's prized Friesian stallion named Lucas. 

Everyone, at last, gathers for the wedding. Brian can't help the extra ping of sadness he feels watching Jocasta and Duncan exchange their vows after he knows that Murtagh had gone to her. He notices how Jocasta is tearing up during the ceremony. But Brian knows it is for a different reason rather than what everyone else thinks. While the audience coo and awe over how beautiful it is that Jocasta loves him so much she is crying, Brian knows they can't have been farther from the truth and she is crying because she wishes it is another man she is standing in front of saying "I do" to. 

They bid the newly Mr and Mistress Innes goodbye the next morning, and start the journey home. 

——

A/N: Diabhal beag = little devil

Please leave comments on how you're enjoying this story and what you think.

[another-random-object-show]

ANOTHER RANDOM OBJECT SHOW

Season 1, Episode 7.

Cloudy flew over to Hangman. “Hey, Hangy?” Hangman replied; “What is it?” as he spied on Phantom. “Did you think we went too far with Comedy’s Elimination? I mean, Tragedy’s COMPLETELY depressed now…” Cloudy said.

“Ahh, he’ll be fine. He’s a bit of a crybaby but nothing else.” Hangman waved it off.

“...whatever you say, I guess..” Cloudy seemed solemn, and left Hangman.

She then flew to Tragedy, who was sobbing inconsolably.

“Hey! Hey, c’mon… C-comedy would've wanted you to keep going!” Cloudy assured. “How would you know? He probably voted for himself because I wasn't good enough! I failed him, I was too slow and so he left!” Tragedy sobbed. “That's not at all what he did! He would've wanted you to win, please, calm down…” Phantom said, comforting Tragedy. “Yeah! Listen to Phantom.” Cloudy said as Phantom stared at her. “or Hangman, which is what got Comedy out?” Phantom said, staring at Cloudy, and grumbled.

Cloudy then backed away, meanwhile, Question Mark and Exclamation Mark watched over Paperplates and Sunny as they played.

“You know what I just realized?” Question Mark said. “Uhm.. uh.. y-yeah..?” Exclamation Mark said. “If Sunny is a star, then why are his parents meteorites?” Question Mark said. “...what?” Exclamation Mark said, confused. “His parents are Moony and Lunartic, the issue being those are MOONs, they're fractures of meteors that have exploded, Sunny’s… a star.” Question Mark noted.

Exclamation Mark thought. “W-wait… WAIT, then that means the only logical people could be Starry and Star! Those two are STARS!” Exclamation Mark said, before Star smacked him. “DON’T.” Star growled, before going back to making out aggressively with Heart behind a bush. “...huh.. he seems very defensive about this…” Question Mark thought.

Meanwhile, Moony and Lunartic were arguing yet again. “YOU WERE WITH AN ENEMY?!” Lunartic yelled at her. “STUPID! SHE STOLE INFO! SHE KNOWS OUR WEAKNESSES! GOD, HOW STUPID CAN YOU BE?!” Lunartic yelled at her, before raising his hand to strike her.

Just then, Penta grabbed his hand, and picked him up. “Is this ANY way to treat your supposed wife?” Penta said. “MY WIFE! MY RULES! WHO CARES?! I SHOULD HAVE CONTROL OF HER!” Lunartic yelled.

“All you're doing is causing more DAMAGE! It's STUPID!” Period yelled. “WHO CARES WHAT YOU THINK, MIDGET?! YOU’RE LITTLE!” Lunartic yelled. “I. AM. NOT. SMALL!” Period now threw himself against Lunartic, causing him to become even MORE aggressive. Moony then snuck away, and began talking to Starry again.

Penta held Lunartic until he calmed down, at which point he threw him violently against the grass, to which Mime shapeshifted into Lunartic and said— “Hi! I’m Lunartic! I LOVE to beat my wife and son! I’m also compulsively violent and aggressive at everyone and everything!” Mime said. “...shut up.” Lunartic flipped Mime off and walked away.

“He seems rude.” A white mug said. “He is.” Mime said, before turning swiftly. “Wait. Who—”

“CONTESTANTS!! Gather!” The Gourd gathered everyone into teams besides 3 new characters. “CONTESTANTS! Today’s challenge is…” He reveals. “A SWORD FIGHT! You will all fight to death to push 2 rival team members into the waters!” The Gourd says. “The team who has all members get eliminated first will be UP FOR ELIMINATION!” The Gourd announced.

Question Mark raised her hand.

“Oh! Yes, Q-Mark?” The Gourd says. “...who's those three people?” She pointed at the white mug, the fine china bowl, and the beige bag with a dollar symbol on it.

“...OH! YES! TEAM “WHAT?”” The Gourd says. “We lost already?!” House groaned. “NO.” The Gourd demonically yells.

Silence shortly cuts in. “You will be getting THREE Temporary Members for this challenge! Meet Hot Chocolate, Ramen and Money Bag! They signed up for this!” The Gourd cackles. “NOW! THE FIRST MATCH UP IS!!” The Gourd summons and spins a casino machine.

“RAMEN! HANGMAN! PERIOD! YOU WILL ALL HAVE A MINUTE TO GET EACH OTHER DOWN!” The Gourd said. “BEGIN!” He now summoned Ramen, Hangman and Period onto a red platform above a pond and gave them giant rubber cylinders.

Ramen and Period struggled to pick their cylinders up due to their armlessness. “Maybe if we work together, we could—” before Ramen finished her statement, Hangman slammed into Period and her, making him SAFE.

“ROUND 2! MONEY BAG, STARRY, AND QUESTION MARK! GO!”

Question Mark began to speak— “wait, Starry, would you be Sunny’s Mother? He IS a star.”

“Oh.. uhm… I am! but actually I—” Starry and Question Mark then got pushed over by Money Bag, who chanted– “BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME! HA!” Money Bag is SAFE.

“ROUND 3! PAPERPLATES! HOT CHOCOLATE! EXCLAMATION MARK! GO!”

Exclamation Mark struggled to hold his cylinder as he was anxious, when he looked up, he screamed as Paperplates and Hot Chocolate charged at him, pushing him into the water. The two then sat down, waited out the minute, and were both counted safe.

“ROUND 4! CLOUDY, PENTA, AND LUNARTIC!” The Gourd announced.

“Watch.” Penta told Cloudy. “Wife beater.” Lunartic now rushed at Penta, phasing through him into the water. “...and we wait.” Penta said before The Gourd announced his and Cloudy’s safety.

“ROUND 5! TRAGEDY, MOONY AND STAR!”

Moony began to console Tragedy, only for Star to begin beating her and Tragedy with the cylinder, then push them off.

“STAR’S SAFE! ROUND 6! MIME, HEART AND SUNNY! GO!” The Gourd announced.

Mime easily juked Heart by disappearing into a puddle, he then snuck behind Sunny and kicked his legs, causing him to fall into the water.

“FINAL ROUND! HOUSE, PHANTOM AND GYROGYRO! GO!”

…awkwardness filled the stage. “Uh… I’m not gonna… attack a dead guy, so…” House said, Phantom shook his head, and pushed House and GyroGyro off the stage.

“TIME! The results are… Team “What?” had 4 members survive! …The Masquerade had 5… BUT! TEAM FUN! HAD NO MEMBERS SURVIVE! They're up for elimination.” The Gourd denounced. “Make a choice, I’ll see you tonight.” The Gourd told the Team FUN! Crew, before teleporting everyone out of the water.

“I think it's clear.” Question Mark said to the Team. “Lunartic is going, and that's a fact.” Period demanded. “Sounds fair?” Period asked the rest of the team, who all agreed.

Lunartic, however, was expecting this, so he went to the Elimination Booth to begin tampering it…

SCENE 5 - ELIMINATION CEREMONY

“TEAM FUN! This is your SECOND time here! You know the rules.” The Gourd stated. “NOW VOTE!”

In the booth, everyone voted for Lunartic… except Lunartic, who voted Exclamation Mark.

…yet the votes came in, and none of them went towards Lunartic.

“By a unanimous decision, INCLUDING Exclamation Mark himself! …EXCLAMATION MARK IS ELIMINATED!” The Gourd pointed at Exclamation Mark.

“What? That's IMPOSSIBLE— we ALL voted for Lunartic!” Sunny said. “Do a recount, please?” Moony said.

The Gourd counted. “...nope, all Exclamation Mark votes. Sorry.” The Gourd sighs, before turning Exclamation Mark into a slip of paper with a “!” on it.

“THAT’S ALL FOR NOW! …see you next time– jeez, what's wrong?” The Gourd asked GyroGyro, who was howling violently as the episode ended.

END.

AROS was written by TheWiseGuest.

All characters' voices, present or not, were acted out by L. Alberto S.

FIN.

“EXCLAMATION!” Question Mark said. “AH!” Exclamation Mark yelped. “W-what?!” He asked. “Let’s join this show! I’ve signed Period up too! ^^” Exclamation Mark looked at the flyer that Question Mark had handed him, then said.. “..uh.. sure. ^^”

[spockandawe]

mmm, thinking about the guanyin temple scene, and the things jin guangyao finally says once people corner him.

Wei Wuxian laughed from anger, staring at Su She. “Have I ever done anything to you? I didn’t see you as an enemy— I didn’t even know you!”

Jin Guangyao said, “Wei-gongzi, shouldn’t you be the one who knows this best? Would you be safe just because you didn’t see him as an enemy? How could that be? In this world, everyone begins without enemies. Yet someone eventually moves to strike that first blow.”

and we only see a sliver of his childhood, but like, in just that TINY moment, first

The woman said, “Oh, why would I lie to you about something like this? Her son is running errands for us right now. There, that’s him.” The woman twisted her waist, waving at a boy holding a tray. “Xiao-Meng! Come here!”

The boy did as he was told and walked over. “Anxin-jie, what is it?”

All at once, Wei Wuxian understood everything.

The clients studied Meng Yao with judgmental eyes. Meng Yao asked again, “Am I needed for something?”

Anxin grinned. “Xiao-Meng, are you still learning all those things lately?”

Meng Yao paused. “Which things?”

Anxin said, “The things your mother wants you to learn, like calligraphy, etiquette, swordsmanship, meditation… How are those things going?”

Before she even finished, the clients began to chuckle as if they thought something was funny. Anxin turned around. “Don’t laugh, I’m telling the truth. His mom’s raising him like a young master of a wealthy family. She taught him to read and write, bought him all sorts of swordsmanship pamphlets, and even wants to send him to school.”

A client exclaimed, “Send him to school? Did I hear wrong?”

“No! Xiao-Meng, tell these gongzis. You’ve gone to the library before, haven’t you?”

The client asked, “Is he still going?”

Anxin said, “Nah, he came back just a few days later. He refused to go back, no matter what. Xiao-Meng, did you not like studying, or did you not like the place?”

Meng Yao didn’t say anything. Anxin giggled, poking a red-painted finger at his forehead, “Little one, are you angry?”

She pressed quite hard. A light, red mark appeared in the center of Meng Yao’s forehead, almost like a shadow of a vermillion mark. He touched his forehead. “No…”

an adult woman makes a point of calling him over just so she and her clients can laugh at his expense. and then moments later

Suddenly, someone screamed. The sound of cups and saucers shattering came from the second floor as a guqin crashed down, smashing to pieces as it hit landed in the hall. It scared the wits out of the people enjoying themselves at the nearby tables. Anxin stood, almost tripping, yelling, “What happened?!”

Meng Yao cried, “A-Niang!”

Anxin looked up. A burly man dragged a woman out of a room by her hair. Anxin tugged the sleeve of the client next to her. It was unclear whether she was nervous or excited. “She’s at it again!”

Meng Yao rushed upstairs. The woman covered her head, trying her hardest to pull her clothes up her shoulders. As she saw Meng Yao run over, she hurriedly cried, “I told you not to come upstairs! Go down! Go down this instant!”

As Meng Yao tried to peel away the client’s hands from his mother, he was kicked in the stomach and rolled down the stairs, causing a wave of exclamations.

This was the third time Wei Wuxian had seen him kicked down a flight of stairs.

The woman screamed as the client grabbed her by the hair again, dragging her all the way downstairs, where he stripped her and threw her onto the street. He spat on her naked body, cursing, “Hags do nothing but haggle— This old whore thinks she’s fresh meat!”

he watches his mother get physically attacked and thrown naked into the streets, just because she tried to get decent payment for her work. and he’s kicked down the stairs for trying to help her

After the kick, Meng Yao hadn’t been able to get up, and was still lying on the ground. The lady grabbed one person with each hand and dragged away both the mother and son.

that’s so much unnecessary cruelty! in such a small time! and it’s not like everything is magically fixed once he enters the cultivation world, he still has to deal with all the pointing and laughing, getting kicked down the stairs of jinlintai when he just tried to present himself to his father, the gossip without regard for whether he can hear it, people wiping their hands after they accept a cup from him, madam jin beating him, hearing his father drunkenly talk about how his mother was such a huge pain in the ass, and he didn’t want to support her because it would have been annoying. there was so much suffering that he never ““asked”” for in any sense.

and given the ways that wei wuxian and jin guangyao are parallels for each other, especially in terms of the hardships they endure, i definitely think it’s both interesting and important that the story repeatedly emphasizes 1) wei wuxian’s terrible memory, and 2) jin guangyao’s perfect memory.

Wei Wuxian knew that ‘for once’ referred to how his memory had been good, for once. He couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t always be so angry about it. It was my fault before, alright? Besides, my terrible memory is thanks to my mother.”

Wei Wuxian propped his arm on Lil’ Apple’s head, spinning Chenqing in his hand. “She said you have to remember the things others do for you, not the things you do for others. Only when people don’t hold so much in their hearts will they finally feel free.”

This was one of the only things he remembered about his parents.

vs

Jin Guangyao could remember the name, title, age, and appearance of any person after just one encounter. Even years later, he’d be able to greet them without any fault, and carry out a solicitous conversations as well. If he’d seen someone more than twice, he would remember all of their likes and dislikes, and would therefore be able to cater to their needs.

there’s a lot at play in the different ways that the two of them react to the suffering they lived through, but that line about ‘someone always moves to strike that first blow’ really stuck with me. preemptive hostility doesn’t feel like wei wuxian’s style in general (post-burial-mounds ptsd excluded), but the difference in how they react to being singled out and mistreated is really striking. madam yu hits wei wuxian for being shirtless in the summer heat, even though everyone else was too, and when there’s a quiet moment he’s kind of :(( over ‘why is it always ME’, but he gets distracted in like two seconds, and pushes it all away. jin guangyao can compartmentalize like a motherfucker, and even as a child, he’s good at keeping a smile on his face no matter what, but he isn’t able to forget. 

i don’t have a clean-cut conclusion to come to, only that i’m a picky binch when it comes to how people characterize jin guangyao’s actions. this is a story where i personally struggle a lot with how badly these characters hurt each other, and how sympathetic i am to all of their motivations. i find the story agonizing, in a lot of very good ways, and i’m constantly overflowing with thoughts about how jin guangyao specifically parallels the people around him, and how his actions compare and contrast to the decisions those other people make. rereading the flashback sequences was one of the most painful parts of this whole reread process, and then the guanyin temple scene in general hurt way much more than i was expecting. for the most part, i have too many feelings screaming for attention right now to do justice to any of them, but this particular character note jumped out at me, and i felt compelled to share.

[storiesforallfandoms]

proposition ~ corpse husband

word count: 1880

request?: no

description: in which her friend invites her to play video games with them and she decides to playfully proposition the stranger with the deep voice

pairing: corpse x female!

warnings: swearing

masterlist

You had been bored out of your skull until you got a message from Sean asking you to play Among Us with some of his friends. You had met some of his closest friends, like Felix and Mark, of course, but he made sure to warn you that there would be some new people in this group. While that made you a little anxious, you knew that playing a video game would help you to warm up to the new people.

Sean sent you a link to the Discord call and you joined almost immediately. You weren’t sure if anyone else was in the call, so you didn’t speak for a moment while you set up the game. It wasn’t until an unnaturally low voice spoke that you realized you weren’t alone.

“Hello?”

You jumped at the voice, shocked that just that one word made your heart race a million miles a minute.

“H-Hello?” you responded.

“Who’s this?” the voice asked.

“Who’s this?” You immediately cringed at the lame response.

The voice chuckled, another sound that made your heart race. “I asked you first.”

“I’m (Y/N),” you finally responded. “I’m friends with Sean.”

“Oh yeah, he’s mentioned you a few times. I’m Corpse, I’m friends with Dave and Felix.”

“Corpse?” you question. “Is that your real name?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You couldn’t help but smile at this. You were shocked at how fast you were warming up to Corpse, but there was just something about him that was just so warm and welcoming.

The two of you talked for some time until Sean popped into the chat. “Geez, (Y/N), you fucking nerd. You’re so early.”

“I had no other plans tonight!” you argued.

Corpse’s low chuckle alerted Sean that he was in the chat as well. “Ah, (Y/N) I see you’ve met deep daddy.”

Your face burned with blush, although you weren’t sure why. “Wait, deep daddy? Please tell me you guys don’t actually call in that.”

“Jason does,” came the familiar voice of Felix as he joined the chat. “Can’t blame him, Corpse’s voice even makes me question my marriage with Marzia.”

The more people that joined, the more jokes that were made about Corpse’s voice and how upset they were that Corpse was playing because he was such a good imposter. You sat in silence, chuckling every now and then but never really speaking. Not like anyone was giving you the chance with how much they were yelling over one another.

You started missing talking to Corpse one on one, but you knew the game had to happen eventually. You just hoped that it would go better than you were expecting.

The first few games started with you as a crewmate. You were killed first in the first game by Sean, who immediately self reported and got voted out because of it. The second game, you made it three rounds before catching Toast kill someone and got him out. The third game, you were in the other room when Corpse killed someone and he blamed you, leading to you getting voted off.

By the time the fourth round came around, you were teamed up with Corpse as the imposter.

“Easy dub,” you commented to yourself. “He’s too good. He’s gotten imposter like three times in a row and no one has noticed.”

You followed Corpse for a while, pretending to do tasks with him. You walked into a room that had only Felix and Rae when your kill button was ready to go. At the same time, you and Corpse killed them both and raced out of the room.  You were about to kill Sean when Toast found Felix and Rae’s bodies.

“I don’t want to sound sus by pointing fingers,” he began, “but Corpse and (Y/N), you haven’t left one another’s sides all game. What the fuck?”

“I’m watching her back,” Corpse responded before you could say anything. “(Y/N) is so small and innocent, if she died on my watch I would never forgive myself.”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at this.

“You blamed her for your killing last game!” Leslie argued.

“That was last game! I’m not imposter now!” Corpse responded.

“If Corpse was imposter I fully believe he would’ve killed me by now,” you added. “He has no reason to keep me alive.”

“Unless he likes you,” Jason singsonged, causing the group to all talk at once about you and Corpse.

“Get back to the game!” you called over them, even though the thought of Corpse potentially liking you made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

No one was ejected (Skipped).

You tried not to think about what everyone had been saying, but it was hard not to. You didn’t know what Corpse looked like, he made you aware that no one knew except for a select few YouTube friends, but you found yourself drawn to him. Sure, his voice was hot, but in the short time you two had to talk together you found that his personality was equally as attractive. 

The distraction caused you to forget what you were doing and almost kill right in front of Toast. You held your breath, hoping you hadn’t accidentally clicked on the mouse and absolutely decapitated Sean right in front of someone. When nothing happened, you quickly ran out of the room and as far away from them as possible.

Your phone chimed. You took your eyes off the screen for a moment to see that it was a private message on Discord from none other than Corpse himself.

“What was that about? 😂”

“I was distracted and almost killed Sean in front of Toast. Had to make a speedy exit.”

“What were you distracted by? 😉"

Lucky for you, another meeting was called before you could respond.

“Okay, for real (Y/N),” came Toast’s voice. “What the fuck is going on? You were just stood in admin with me and Sean, then suddenly you raced out, and now you’re just standing in the middle of the cafeteria not moving at all.”

“She’s distracted,” came Corpse’s voice before you could respond.

You felt your face heating up again. “I was distracted, by my dog. He’s currently at my feet with his toy. He keeps looking at me with his big eyes, it’s hard to concentrate.”

“Awe, send me a picture of the little guy! I miss him a lot!” Sean said.

No one was ejected (Skipped).

You took a deep breath and concentrated on the game. You decided to stick with Corpse again, only breaking off to make it look like you were fixing the sabotages that you were setting. You and Corpse managed to kill three other bodies, leaving you with one more to kill before winning. And you knew exactly who you wanted it to be.

You sent Corpse a quick message before going to look for Sean.

“Do not kill anyone, leave this to me”

Seconds later you got a response. “Aye aye captain.”

You entered electrical as Sean was doing a task. You walked up behind him and hit the kill button without hesitation. You watched your character cut his body in half before the victory screen came up for you and Corpse.

“I fucking knew it!” Toast exclaimed. “You guys were too sus!”

“What can I say, we make a good team, right (Y/N)?”

You smiled to yourself as you responded, “Yeah, we do.”

Everyone started talking the one time again, joking around with each other. You started feeling like you were fading into the background again, which normally you’d be okay with, but you were starting to feel more comfortable with the group. You wanted to feel more comfortable with Sean’s friends, especially with Corpse.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. You smirked to yourself as you declared into your mic, “Guys! Guys, I have something I wanna say! Everyone, shush!”

The talking soon died down as everyone listened to you intently. Your heart was hammering in your chest, but you knew there was no backing out of it now.

“I have a proposition for Corpse,” you said, which was met by cheers and exclamations of excitement. When everyone silent down again, you took a deep breath and forced the words out before you chickened out. “Corpse, are you single?”

You heard his low chuckle through the voices talking excitedly. “I am single, yes.”

“Good to know.”

There was a silence as everyone waited to see if you’d follow up on your comment. When you didn’t, Sean exclaimed, “What was the proposition?!”

“Wouldn’t you guys like to know,” you said with a knowing smirk to yourself.

The game went on for another few hours before you finally had to call it a night. You said goodbye to everyone and exited the game. While shutting down your computer and getting ready for bed, your phone chimed. Another message from Discord.

“It was really nice meeting you tonight. We make a pretty good imposter team, you should play with us more often.”

You couldn’t help but smile at Corpse’s message. You felt like a giddy teenage girl as you got into bed, clutching your phone tightly in your hands.

“It was really fun, I’m glad Sean invited me. I’ll definitely come play more in the future if you guys want me!”

You saw the three dots pop up, showing that Corpse was typing. They went away a moment, then popped up again, then away again. This happened a few more times before another message came in.

“About that proposition...”

“What about it? 😉”

“Was just wondering how serious you were about it, or if there was an actual proposition at all.”

You looked at the message for a long time. Of course, at the time you didn’t think it was serious. It was just a fun joke at the expense of your friends. But now that he was asking...what did you say?

You thought about your message for a long time before typing, “I was as serious as you want me to be.”

There was an extended pause on Corpse’s end before he responded, “Well, I know we just met, but I’m pretty serious about it. I’d like to get to know you more. You seem like a really nice girl.”

“You seem like a nice guy.”

“Can I Skype you tomorrow?”

The question shocked you considering what he had told you earlier. “You’re willing to show me your face?”

“Only a select few know what I look like, I trust you to be one of those few.”

Your heart fluttered yet again as you typed your response. “Well then, I’d love to Skype tomorrow. I’ll send you my name so you can add me.”

You laid back in bed after adding Corpse to Skype, feeling excited for the next day. You could hardly sleep now thinking about what you’d get to do in almost 12 hours time. It felt like too far away, you wanted to call him right then and there.

Just as you were starting to drift to sleep, your phone chimed again. You checked it one last time before bed to see a final message from Corpse.

“Goodnight, see you tomorrow”

“Goodnight Corpse, see you tomorrow”

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Long Way From Home Part 2

Summary: You and Natasha are left with the realization of what your future holds. 

Genre: Fluff

Request: Yes / No

Word Count: 2,408

* * * * * *

You weren’t entirely sure what to expect after Katya’s return home. Hope led you to believe that the situation would draw yourself and Natasha closer. But realism made you understand that if/when that ever happens, it wouldn’t be anytime soon.

Natasha was even more shocked than you were to find out that Katya was her daughter from the future. That shock went even deeper when she realized that Katya’s other parent was you.

Maybe it was that realization that pushed her to stay away from you. And you didn’t want to further push her away by being overbearing.

So for the first few days, you’d given her all the space she needed. You resolved to not speak to her unless she spoke first, you made sure she knew you were there whenever she was ready but didn’t become annoying about it.

But days turned to weeks and she hadn’t said or done anything. With the knowledge of what the future held in your head, coupled with the feelings you already had towards Natasha, you decided to take a different approach.

Switching some things around on your personal and work schedule, you made it so that the two of you spent more time together: working out and training, going on missions, having breakfast together whenever she was actually hungry. Hell you even volunteered to do public appearances with her and everyone knows how much you hate those. 

It was all in an attempt to get the woman you cared so deeply for to at least speak to you.

Luckily, it worked. Whatever the case may have been, her noticing the effort you were putting into being there for her or her getting annoyed with how persistent you are, she started to strike up little conversations when you were together. 

None of the topics ever held much weight but they seemed to make you both happier, helped lift that tension between you two. 

In a few weeks you two grew closer, as you’d hoped, occasionally throwing the term friend around which definitely grabbed the attention of your teammates, especially those who knew exactly how you felt about the redhead. 

While neither of you brought up Katya or what her presence meant, both of you thought about it a lot. With good reason. 

Having learned what you did from Banner during the “Time Heist”, you know that it’s possible that in this particular timeline you and Natasha don’t get together, or maybe you do but you break up, or you just never get married, or don’t have kids, or you adopt so you never have Katya. You’d have to talk to Doctor Strange to know the true number of possibilities but your head was ready to explode whenever you thought about it so you were fine not knowing. 

The one thing you hoped with all hope, was that you kept Natasha in your life. No matter what the future became you just wanted- you needed Natasha there. 

Only problem is, after all that progress you’d made in your relationship with her, everything stopped. Conversations, hanging out, seeing each other around, going on missions together. All of it went away. And it wasn’t because of you.

With how much your new schedule allowed you to see Natasha, you wouldn’t have dared to change it. Which let you know that it was her schedule that changed. Better put, she changed her schedule.

You aren’t sure what you’d done. The last time you spent together, the two of you had watched some movie that she really wanted to see. Conversation flowed freely, laughs and smiles exchanged in between. You’d ended up falling asleep during the sequel of the movie and woke up to her in your arms, her head tucked under your chin.

The moment had left you feeling completely content so, with her soft breaths against your neck and your arms wrapped around each other, you fell back to sleep with ease. Only to wake up to her gone. And you hadn’t seen her around since. 

After everything, after all of that, you refused to take steps back. You’d fight for her until she told you to stop. 

“Um, anyone see Natasha?” You ask, stepping into the kitchen.

Today marks a week of not seeing the redhead around as she continues to dodge you. You had been looking all over her, your search interrupted by Steve calling you and Bucky into a meeting regarding your last mission with him. But now that it’s over you’re back to looking for her. 

Sam, Bucky, and Wanda look up at you as you walk in. Your brunette friend raises her eyebrows at your question, tilting her head in silent curiosity. 

Chuckling quietly, Sam asks,“ she still avoiding you?” His eyebrows wiggle slightly as he asks, amusement in his eyes. 

You raise your eyebrow,“ I’m sorry Wilson I don’t understand what’s funny.” You tilt your head challengingly at him.“ Last I checked she’s still not giving you the time of day at all.”

Bucky and Wanda snort, struggling to hold in their laughs. Wanda bites her lip and turns away from Sam, having to sit her mug of tea down as she finally lets her laugh out. Which breaks Bucky’s resolve. Splutters of laughter leaving both of them as they face away from you and Sam.

He smacks his lips and waves you off,“ it ain’t even that funny.” He grumbles and looks down at his lunch. 

“What’s not funny?” 

Your eyebrows raise at the voice behind you, eyes slightly widening in hope as you spin around. Green eyes look into yours and Natasha’s pink lips press into a thin line before she turns on her heel and walks away.  

Looking back at the trio, you point at the spot Natasha had been in with a disbelieving chuckle. Only to have Wanda shoo you away, gesturing for you to go after Natasha. Understanding what she means, you immediately take off after the ex-assassin.

Luckily for you she hadn’t gone far.

You turn the corner and see her marching down the hallway. She’s moving much faster than you’d like, not giving you time to truly appreciate the tight yoga pants and tank top that adorn her body.  

Instead you focus on catching up with her, which doesn’t take much due to your enhanced genetics. Catching up to her just before she can get to her bedroom door, you reach out to grab her arm, gently pulling her back.

Only for her to twist her hand, grabbing your wrist and nearly slamming you into the wall, your arm twisted behind your back. You know if she wanted to she could make this hurt but she doesn’t. Most likely using it to intimidate you as she speaks.

“Stop following me Y/Ln.” She practically hisses through clenched teeth.

You turn your head to look at her over your shoulder.“ Usually I’d agree to that but not this time. I think I deserve some answers Tash.”

Using the little nickname causes her hold on you to loosen, her jaw unclenching.“ Don’t call me that.”

“Fine,” you huff, shoulders dropping as you turn your head slightly to hide your smirk.“ Just talk to me Natty.”

Her eyes roll and she drops your arm, stepping to the side and pushing her bedroom door open. Your eyes widen and you slip inside before the fingerprinted door closes and locks behind her. 

She quickly spins around as you step in and the door closes. Irritation writes across her features even deeper than before. 

“You can turn your ass right back around Y/Ln. I told you to stop following me.” Her arms cross over her chest.

Shaking your head you say,“ and I told you no.” A frown forms on your face as you look at her. Staring into those green eyes causes your feelings to swell.“ Don’t you see how this is hurting me? Being ignored by someone I care about without a single explanation as to why? And you can pretend that you don’t but it’s obviously affecting you too or you wouldn’t be so upset with me trying to talk to you.”

“Y/n just leave it alone. If I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to talk.” She tries to brush it off.“ We’ve gone without talking to each other before so just, go back to that.”

For a second you’re ready to walk away, catch her at a better time but you were done chasing her.“ No. I don’t want that and I don’t think you do either. Stop avoiding me and your feelings and just talk to me!” Your frustration pulls the words from your brain out of your mouth in an exasperated exclamation.

Natasha wastes no time returning the frustration.“ No okay!” She shouts, running her fingers through her hair.“ I don’t like feeling like this so I don’t want to talk about it!”

Eyebrows pinching together, you tilt your head in confusion.“ Feeling like what, Natasha?” A heavy sigh falls from your lips.“ You aren’t telling me something and it’s killing me.” 

Silence falls between you, once again stirring up that frustration.

“What feeling?” You beg her to tell you, more thankful than ever for soundproof walls, otherwise the whole team would hear your yelling.

She glares at you as if you’d personally offended her, then shouts,“ like I’m falling in love with you!” Her hands rise and fall with her words. Resting at her sides in clenched fists as she keeps shouting.

You drop your hands, shoulders sagging as you feel your heart swell. It seems to start beating a mile a minute and your face softens.“ You’re falling in love with me?”

“Yes. No! I don’t know.” Her voice strains as if she’s choking up.“ I don’t know if this is real or not. Just because Katya exists in some future doesn’t mean that she exists in ours. It doesn’t mean that we’re supposed to be together.”

Those words, that simple expression of her feelings makes you realize that she’s been thinking about the exact same things you had been. 

It’s not like what you’ve been feeling towards Natasha was forced. But you did worry if it was all just you subconsciously trying to make that future with Katya happen. Except you knew it wasn’t.

She: Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, ex-assassin/superhero, she’d had your heart long before Katya ever arrived. You fought it tooth and nail because the two of you weren’t on good terms but truth is, you’ve loved her since your first undercover mission almost 15 years ago. 

The first time your best friend had pressed her lips against yours in a sweet kiss meant to distract and deter your targets, you knew you loved her. Maybe she didn’t feel what you did then but she’s feeling it now.

“I love you.” You tell her, watching as she stops ranting and looks at you with scared eyes. Giving her a soft smile, you take a cautious step closer, reaching forward to take her hand. You squeeze it, as if to let her know that this is real, that what you’re about to say is real. 

“I’ve loved you for a long time now Natasha,” you take her other hand,“ Katya being here, the realization of who her parents are, that hasn’t forced my feelings for you. If anything it made me realize that I didn’t fight hard enough. I just let you go and I was so stupid for that. I should’ve tried harder to keep what we had, I should’ve said something about how I felt before.”

Green eyes bore into yours as you speak, a flood of emotions in them.“ Why say something now then? Why wait until you meet the little girl who we apparently parent? Just because it’s supposed to happen doesn’t mean it has to.” Her tone goes from genuinely curious to irritated in a matter of seconds. 

But you don’t let that hinder you. Instead you smile softly at her, letting your honest feelings show in your eyes.“ Because I don’t think we’re supposed to be together. I think we’re meant to be together. Everything we’ve been through together, every laugh and argument, every insult and compliment, it’s all led us to this very moment.”

Fear overtakes her other emotions and it settles in her eyes. 

“And yes it’s scary, terrifying even, but that makes it all the more beautiful. We can run from this. We can act like we don’t love each other, act like this isn’t what we want. But we both know that we,” you pull her hands up to press against your chest, knowing she can feel your heart pounding,“ this is home. It’s everything we need and more than we ever could’ve asked for.”

You see the battle in her eyes, you get a little scared that she’ll choose to run from it, so in a last attempt to fight for this you ask,“ don’t you think we’ve been away from home long enough?”

Like the clouds parting when a storm ends, you see Natasha’s eyes light up. They get bright as she stares at you and you finally finally see that gorgeous smile. 

She pulls her hand from yours and before you can get dejected about it, she wraps it around the back of your neck and pulls you down.

When she speaks you feel the breath of her words against your lips,“ I’ve been looking for a true home for a long time.”

You understand exactly what she’s trying to convey, you hear the unspoken admission of feelings and you feel her opening the door for you to come in. So you do the same in return.

“I promise I’m not gonna hurt you Romanoff.”

In a split second her lips press against yours and it’s like you’re taken back in time. Those same feelings you’d had when she kissed you for the first time come back tenfold. Soft pink lips mold against yours as you place your free hand on her hip to pull her closer.

For a moment you wish you didn’t have to breathe as you wanted nothing more than to continue to kiss her. But your lungs start to protest at the lack of air so you both reluctantly pull away. 

Natasha rests her head on your chest and you wrap your arms around her.

With her in your arms you can’t help but to think: It feels good to be home.

* * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers

[luxekook]

chapter eight.

⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 6.5k

⇥ warnings: 18+, lots of cursing, general chaotic energy [more than usual], poly relationship, switch!reader, dom!joon, switch!jin, switch!hobi, sub!yoongi, sub!jk, sub!tae, sub!jimin, jk is a whole cutie, everybody gets their bob ross on, PUNS, pick up lines, smut [thigh kink, noona kink, marking, oral (f receiving), dom/sub themes, daddy kink, mentions of spanking, lots of lap sitting]

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter Eight

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 8:38am

I wake to the sound of thunder and groan as my eyes strain to focus on the rain pouring down outside my window. Hastily, I grab for my phone and scroll through my notifications. Yup, my friend Brianna - the president of the Alphites - had emailed to say that Habitat is cancelled for the morning.

What did this mean for my date? Swiping over to the group chat, I quickly type a message to the boys.

Queen (y/n), Worldwide Handsome, and 6 Peasants

8:40am, (y/n): “Yo, dweebs. No volunteering today because of the rain. Looks like our date is cancelled, too…”

I laugh evilly as my phone consequentially blows up with a series of question marks and exclamations. Just as I’m about to put a stop to the madness I’d caused, my phone screen darkens with the telltale chimes of an incoming FaceTime.

Not even bothering to shift out of bed, I swipe to answer. “Hi, Hobi,” I grin at my sunshine who looks a little pouty this morning. The metaphorical rain cloud over his head lessens marginally at my smile.

The puffy, bare-faced boy sighs and runs a hand through his wild hair. Obviously, Hoseok had just woken up, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to wake up next to him.

“(Y/n)? Did you hear me?” Hobi chuckles, bringing my attention back to my phone. “You weren’t serious, right? Our date is still on? We have the whole thing planned! The rain doesn’t even affect it! And—”

“Is that (y/n)?” A cry of uproar sounds from the background on Hobi’s end of the line. A thundering of footsteps commences; and, suddenly, I am faced with seven slivers of faces all crowded together.

“(Y/n)!” Jungkook rips the phone from Hoseok’s grasp and takes off out of the room. The background blurs as he runs. Faintly, I can make out blurry figures giving chase behind him. “(Y/n)! Please still come over. We have everything set up! Saturdays are always full of noona, and I don’t want to break the tradition.”

Letting out a laugh at the fluffy haired boy, I smirk, “First of all, let me just say that I’m glad you don’t subscribe to the whole ‘SaTuRdAyS aRe FoR tHe BoYs’ toxicity. And second of all, you do realize you just gave away the date plans, right?”

“Jungkook!” The shout from what could only be an enraged Seokjin echoes across the connection.

I watch in amusement as the background once again blurs. As the feed refocuses, Jimin’s beaming face greets me, and I roll my eyes at the realization that Jungkook must have tossed him the phone. Probably playing a game of ‘Monkey in the Middle’ with their eldest brother, I assume.

Deciding enough is enough, I retake control of the situation with the tried and true method of the shock factor™. “Hey, I’m naked.”

Silence falls.

Then comes the seven pairs of eyes crowding the screen that I had hoped for.

Disappointed huffs resound from the collective as I cackle, trying my best to ignore their indignant cries.

“Noona’s not even naked!”

“Why, there’s not even a boob to be seen!”

“She’s got us lookin’ like boo-boo the fool, boys…SMH!”

“Jin, did you just say ‘SMH’?” The boy opens his mouth to respond, but I decide there’s no time to discuss acronyms right now. Shaking my own head swiftly, I clear my throat, “No, never mind. Now that I have your attention, I need someone to tell me what the plan is. Am I getting out of bed today? Are we still doing the thing?”

“You can get out of your bed and into mine,” Taehyung’s words barely escape his mouth before he is pushed out of frame by at least four of the others.

“Tae, are you trying to get your name added to my punishment list?” I smirk as two boys in particular gulp, “Jimin and Jin already have the distinct honor. Isn’t that right, boys?”

“You can add my name, noona!” Jungkook gasps out, lunging once again for control of the phone. He is shoved out of the way by Namjoon.

“Oh, my little Kookie,” I laugh, “That would practically be a reward for you.”

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your own punishment, (y/n),” Namjoon stares me down from the other end of the phone.

“I mean, you can try it,” I shrug, “But I’ll probably either like it or turn it around on you at some point. Just saying…”

“Sounds good to me,” Joon grins, his dimples popping out, “Now get your sweet ass over here so I can spank it.”

“Right now?” I double check the time, “It’s still not even nine fucking AM. What is this going to be? Some sort of all day extravaganza? Y’all better be feeding me.”

“Yah, do you know who I am?” Jin butts in from his small corner of the screen, ”You are in the presence of Worldwide Handsome Chef Extraordinaire Kim Seokjin! Of course you’re going to be well fed - both with my visuals and with food!”

“I have no words,” I say.

Jin forges on, “Speechless, eh? I’m used to it.”

“Could the two of you stop your gross flirting for one second so that we can actually convince (y/n) to come over?”

Yoongi’s scowl appears on screen as he takes control of the phone. Jin can be heard squawking indignantly in the background.

“Gross?” I raise an eyebrow, “That’s not what you were saying when you were teaching me piano.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Taehyung yelps.

“I think so,” Jimin answers darkly.

“Wait, what’s a ‘you feminism’ again?” Jungkook mumbles from somewhere in the room.

“Oh my god,” Namjoon moans, sounding completely done, “(y/n), I am begging you to hang up and call my phone so that I can actually let you in on the plan.”

“Bet,” I say, “I’ll call you in an hour. I’m going back to sleep.”

I hang up, abruptly cutting off their whiny protests. Boys can always wait. Extra sleep, however, must seized at every opportunity.

Sinking back into the bliss of my comfy bed, I smile as I flip my phone over and promptly fall back asleep.

(Y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 11:57am

“(Y/n).”

“(Y/n)!”

“(Y/n), for the love of Jared Padalecki, get your ass up!”

Groaning, I wave Luna off with a limp arm, still half asleep. “Go away,” my garbled words prove to be futile as she pulls the covers right off of me.

“Your entourage is here,” Luna hisses, grabbing my ankle and attempting to tug me off the bed.

“My what?” I kick at her hold, “Stop going all horror movie on me!”

“You haven’t seen horror! Horror is waking up to the furious sound of fists pounding at the front door and thinking your dark past of downloading music off of sketchy websites has finally caught up with you! Horror is pulling open the door in just your Harry Potter onesie only to be faced with seven hot and all-too-put-together dudes!”

My brain slowly wraps its away around the meaning of her words. “Oh, fuck.” I launch out of bed, flailing around for my phone.

111 Messages

34 Missed Calls

14 Voicemails

“Good god,” I toss my phone back on my bed and stalk past Luna into the living room where my ‘entourage’ is gathered.

“Okay, what the fuck,” I cross my arms over my chest as I stare down at the seven boys spread out across our second-hand sectional.

“Noona, you’re here!” Jungkook springs up from his seat and tackles me in a hug.

“Where else would I be? I fucking live here,” I mumble into his chest, annoyance slipping away with each breath.

“I told you she just overslept,” Yoongi mutters from the couch, sounding very much like he was dragged here against his will.

“Finally,” I say, pulling away from Jungkook to beam down at Yoongi, “An intellectual. Now, what about the rest of you overreactive imbeciles? Did you just come over so that you could snoop around where I live?”

As I say this, my eyes narrow on Namjoon. The boy is inspecting the teacup I had forgotten to put away last night like it’s a new archaeological find. My words fluster him, and he fumbles with the cup before it falls from his grasp to shatter on the floor.

“I am so sorry!” Namjoon yelps. The rest of the boys look on with disappointment but not surprise.

“That was my great grandmother’s teacup,” I whisper, falling to my knees dramatically.

“Namjoon, your destructive nature has gone too far!” Seokjin yells, scrambling over to me. My face is buried in my hands as my shoulders shake. I can’t hold it any longer.

I burst out laughing. “Oh my god, it’s fine, Joon. I’m kidding. It was just a cup from Target’s clearance section.”

“So evil!” Namjoon whines, “I was so worried!” Shuffling over to the hallway closet, I pull out our dustpan and broom. Walking back, I hand it off to Namjoon before he can attempt to pick up a fragment of the shattered cup.

“Don’t even think about using your bare hands, Joon,” I narrow my eyes at him, “A trip to Urgent Care does not count as a date.”

“Noona,” Taehyung pipes up, “You should join the Acting Club! Did I mention I’m the president?”

“Oh, here we go,” Yoongi scowls, flicking his eyes over to where Seokjin is rapidly turning a concerning shade of red.

Mount Seokjin erupts, “You’re only president on a bullshit technicality! Fifth years can’t be on Exec boards, you swine!”

“Yo, Seokjin, I’m really bummed about that policy, and Imma let you finish. But, let me just say that if y’all don’t leave so I can get ready, I will avoid you for the rest of time.”

Seconds tick by. I frown, “I don’t see movement. Why don’t I see movement?”

“Well,” Jimin hedges, shrinking under my gaze, “We figured you could just come back with us? It would save you a trip?”

The disobedience in this crew would drive me off a cliff. “I guess I was not clear the first time. I am going to drive myself because: 1) I can leave on my own terms and 2) I can leave an overnight bag in the car just in case. Although, that possibility is slipping away by the millisecond.”

“Alright! Time to go!” Jungkook barks, herding the boys towards the door.

As they practically run out the door, Namjoon turns back to me with an arched brow, “No going back to sleep.”

I salute him, “Scout’s honor. I’ll see you in a bit.” With that, I’m finally left in peace and quiet.

“Want to explain what that was all about?!” Luna stalks out of her room, “I need the tea!”

A full hour and a half later, I find myself in an eerily empty frat house.

“Y’all really kicked everyone out, huh?” I comment as I peer around each corner of the house. There is not a soul - besides these seven fools - to be seen.

“I mean, there are only three other people that actually live here permanently,” Namjoon counters, ever the diplomatic president, “The rest of the rooms are mainly for guests or if a member needs temporary housing.”

Humming noncommittally, I come to an abrupt halt when the dining room comes into view. All the furniture has been pushed to one side to make room for eight easels and an excessive amount of paint.

“It looks like a Michael’s threw up in here,” I marvel.

“Who is Michael?” Jimin pops up next to me with narrowed eyes. The rest of the boys file in behind him.

“My sugar daddy,” I deadpan, “He’s an artist.”

Namjoon cracks up, while Jimin pouts adorably. “I guess you know what we’re going to do now, baby,” Namjoon says, still chuckling lightly.

“We’re doing DIY Painting with a Twist!” Taehyung yells, “The twist is that there’s no wine. Namjoon said it could get ‘too out of hand’ - whatever that means.”

“What is everyone going to paint?” Hobi asks the room after a brief pause, “I’m going to make something for (y/n)! It’s a surprise.”

“That’s so sweet, Hobi,” I smile at the boy, “Thank you!”

Not a group to be outdone, the boys quickly affirm that they too had been planning to make something for me all along.

Rolling my eyes, I sigh, “Careful, I’m going to get used to y’all spoiling me.”

“Good,” Namjoon nods, “You’re learning.”

“Yes, daddy,” I tease, “Are you going to keep spoiling your good girl?”

“You’re not a good girl,” Yoongi laughs, “You’re a fucking force of nature.”

“Thank you,” I wipe a nonexistent tear from under my eye, “This is why you are currently my favorite.”

“What!”

“Wait, you have a running favorite?”

“How can I get to be your favorite?”

Five minutes later, the room is empty aside from Jungkook and I. The rest of the boys dispersed the moment they decided to make painting a competition for my favor.

“Aren’t you going to hide away, too?” I address the younger boy next to me.

“Why would I go anywhere else when you’re right here?” Jungkook shuffles closer to me, “Besides, I wanted to use a different canvas.”

“Ah, I see,” I nod sagely before pulling my long-sleeved shirt up and over my head.

“Noona!” Jungkook chokes as he takes in my slightly sheer tank top and the black bra that peeks out from underneath, “I meant your wrist!”

“Calm down, Kook,” I laugh, “I can put it back on if you want. I just don’t want to get paint on it.”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously.

He then grabs my arm gently, flipping it over so that the inside of my wrist faces up. His thumb brushes over my erratic pulse and pauses. “Are you nervous, noona?” His wide eyes stare up at me, “You don’t have to let me paint on you.”

“It’s okay, Kookie,” I say, brushing his fallen hair out of his eyes,  “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

The boy’s cheeks bloom a bright red as he flashes me a small smile, “That’s one of my favorite movies.”

My heart swells as the cuteness that is Jeon Jungkook, and I can’t resist teasing him further. “Jungkook,” I whisper, leaning forward, “I would gladly share my door with you to keep you warm.”

“Noona,” He whines, trying to pretend like he wants to get away from me. I would rate his efforts a 1/10 considering his hand is still firmly wrapped around my wrist.

“The iceberg would melt because of how hot you are…” I keep going, arching closer to murmur in his ear, “Just like the Titanic, I would go down on you for hours.”

“Noona!” Jungkook yelps, “Stop playing with me!”

“Fine,” I pout, “But the offer stands.”

“You’re going to kill me…” He mumbles. Dipping his paintbrush into his nearby palette, Jungkook begins to etch the outline of what looks like some sort of flower onto my wrist. The strokes of the brush across my skin make me shiver - something that does not go unnoticed by Jungkook.

His eyes dart to mine, and I feel like crumbling under the weight of the adoration I find within them.

“Kookie,” I glance down, breaking the intensity before it consumed me whole, “What kind of flower is this?”

He mumbles something inaudible.

“What?” My ears strain to pick up the boy who for some reason decided to answer in the language of tiny.

“A tiger flower,” Jungkook turns away to grab a new brush, his hair failing to hide his flushed cheeks. I watch enraptured as he mixes the orange and white shades to get the end result he wants.

Returning to my wrist, he leans down and lightly blows across the drying paint.

“This is unfair,” I mumble as the boy continues to unknowingly seduce me. Or did he know? My eyes narrow as his gaze flicks to mine. Arching a brow, I decide to press him, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the matching tattoo on your forearm, right?”

“N-no,” Jungkook panics, eyes darting this way and that, “That would be Ludacris.”

Did he just— Not the time.

“Mhm,” I hum, ever the skeptic.

Jungkook swallows before once again resorting to tiny speak, “Okay, yes, it does. I’m asking you to love me, noona. Please.”

My breath escapes me in a whoosh as I stare dumbfounded at the pleading boy who once again starts to paint my wrist. Why is such a beautiful human lacking in adoration? Why does he need my affection when he has six other lovers?

“Why?” The question slips past my lips before I can catch it.

“Because,” He continues to paint, “I can see myself loving you for a very long time, and I just want to be loved back for just as long.”

The silence that falls after Jungkook’s admission feels safe and comfortable. His words swirl around my mind. And as he finishes the flower now adorning my wrist, I give him an answer I’m not even sure he had been waiting for. “Jungkook,” I wait until he meets my eyes, “I don’t think I’m in love with you yet. I’m not even sure I know what love is or what it feels like. But I can see myself falling for you. And I do know that there is a place in my heart labeled ‘Jeon Jungkook’, just like there are six other places for the rest of you… Y’all really do take up a lot of space.”

I let out a little laugh as Jungkook’s lips twitch in amusement. I continue, “It scares me sometimes. How I might fall for all of you and get heartbroken seven times over. But, I might also fall for all of you and get seven times the amount of love in return. And so I’m willing to fight for that chance. Besides, what’s life without a little risk?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment, and then he whispers, “I really like you, (y/n)-noona.”

I lean closer to him. Our noses brush as I whisper back, “I really like you, too, Jungkookie.”

The smile I get in response is blinding, and I can’t resist pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m done!” Taehyung hurtles through the doorway, lugging a giant canvas that definitely had not been in the room earlier, “I call this masterpiece: ‘My Boo’.”

Gaping, I take in the massive canvas full of swirling colors and abstract shapes. It’s honestly overwhelming and a bit dramatic, but that is Taehyung. And I love it.

“It’s so pretty!” I coo, shuffling over to side-hug Tae.

He shyly hangs his head on my shoulder, “You really think so?”

“Yes, baby,” I nod, “Of course I do.”

One by one the other boys return to present me with their art. Seokjin presents a sea of rainbow colored hearts (“Get it? I see hearts when you’re around!”). Hobi shows off his technicolored sunset (“It’s how I feel when I look at you, (y/n)! Hopeful, but at peace.”). Jimin bashfully hands over a painting of two silhouettes dancing (“It’s us.” *blushes profusely*). Yoongi gives me a black canvas with a portion of lighter blue mixed in (“You make my world brighter.”). Finally, Namjoon shuffles over with a succulent plant in a painted flower pot (“I accidentally elbowed a hole through my canvas… This is my favorite plant, for you.”).

The boys also marvel over the flower that Jungkook painted on my wrist while the younger boy beams with pride. One of them mentions ordering pizza for dinner, and the room clears within seconds as the majority flees in search of a menu.

Namjoon is the last to remain, admiring the art etched on my skin. “You know what it means, right?” He murmurs, thumb tentatively brushing across the dried paint.

“He told me,” I nod, focused on the gentle caress of his fingers.

Namjoon lifts my hand to his mouth and places a light kiss. The motion takes me back to the memory of a few weeks ago where he first had performed the action. “I hope you know the sentiment extends to all of us as well.”

“Oh, does it?” I smile, “You might have to mark me to make it believable.”

“Consider it done,” Namjoon says before pulling me closer to him and placing his lips on my neck. What an opportunist, I muse as he bites down gently. His tongue flicks before his lips once again press down on my neck. Namjoon litters my neck with small kisses. I gasp as he suddenly returns to the initial spot and bites down slightly harder, sucking and licking at my neck afterwards.

“Joon,” I breathe out as he pulls back, looking all smug and proud of himself, “I will get you back for this.”

“I look forward to it, baby.” With that, Namjoon laces his fingers through my own and tugs me out of the room towards the ruckus being caused in the kitchen.

One hour later, the eight of us are piled on the massive living room sofa.

“I think I’m pregnant,” Seokjin moans, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “The father is Papa John.”

“I told you not to race to beat Kook to the last slice,” Hobi shakes his head, “No one ever listens in this house.”

“You get me, bro, you get me,” Namjoon extends his fist to Hoseok who fist bumps him.

I survey the room from where I’m perched on Taehyung and Jimin, one leg hitched over one of theirs. “I thought we were going to watch a movie?” I furrow my brows, “Or was that just a ploy to get me to stay longer?”

Jungkook scrambles to his feet, “I’ll go get Titanic!”

“No!”

“Please, god, no!”

“Noooo!”

The crestfallen expression that crosses Jungkook’s face tugs at my heartstrings. “Aw, Kook, I really inspired you with my words earlier, huh?” His pouting intensifies as he stalks back over to his end of the couch.

“Never let me watch what I want,” He mumbles. Sensing that this is an often fought battle, I shimmy off of Tae and Jimin and head over towards the youngest.

“How about this,” I reason, “Let the group decide what movie to watch, and I’ll sit with you during it.”

“Promise?” Large brown eyes peer up at me. At my nod, his expression brightens, and he pats his legs excitedly.

Settling down on his thighs, I realize I have made a grave miscalculation.

My thigh-riding kink + Jungkook’s muscular thighs = chaos

As the rest of the boys argue between watching Die Hard or The Hangover, I shift my hips slowly to try to get more comfortable. Jungkook’s swift inhale tells me that my move wasn’t as low-key as I had hoped.

“Noona, stop moving,” He mumbles into my hair, his arms firmly circling my waist.

“Sorry, baby,” I mutter back to him, trying hard to reign in my thirst.

The boys finally decide to watch Die Hard. Minutes tick by as the movie I’ve seen multiple times before plays on the screen. I’m only half paying attention, and I’m pretty sure Jungkook isn’t paying attention at all.

His fingers have shifted under my tank top and are drawing patterns onto the skin of my stomach. “So soft,” He marvels, his words ghosting across the skin of my neck.

The effect the boy has on me is deadly, and I retaliate with one of the only ways I can. I grind my hips slowly down onto his. The heat of his body warms my own, the hardness of his cock becoming more and more apparent underneath me.

“Noona,” Jungkook moans, “You’re so unfair.”

I whisper back, “You started it.”

He scoffs, moving my hair to one side of my neck, and pauses. “Oh, what’s this?”

“Don’t even think—”

His lips descend onto my neck, cutting me off mid-sentence. “Insolent child,” I breathe out, trying to keep my shit together despite finding it so fucking hot that Jungkook’s mouth is where Joon’s had been just over an hour ago.

Keeping my eyes firmly on the screen where John McClane is steadily taking down a whole crime organization singlehandedly, I try in vain not to imagine getting double teamed by Jungkook and Namjoon. By the time the credits roll, my panties are a mess. I can feel Jungkook practically throbbing underneath me from being so hard, and I’m pretty sure my nipples could cut through glass.

“What’d you think, (y/n)?” Hobi beams over at me from the other end of the couch.

I plaster a smile on my face like I hadn’t just been imagining the whole room naked and engaged in NSFW activities. “It was iconic as always!”

The boys seem to happily accept my answer. Well, most of them do. Yoongi is staring at me with a suspicious expression. Damn, that boy is too observant for his own good.

“Well,” I decide to try to regain some semblance of self-control, “Where did I put my keys?”

“WHAT!”

“You can’t leave! It’s only 9pm!”

“You said you would would stay overnight!”

I roll my eyes upwards, at least this provided Jungkook an opportunity to tug a pillow onto his lap. “I’m going to get my bag from the car, you fools.”

The boys let out a collectively sheepish “Ah”.

“I’ll walk you, noona,” Jimin stands, making his way over to my side.

“Trying to butter me up, baby?” I can’t help but ruffle his hair, “Okay, come on.”

Jimin and I make our way to the front door where my keys lie on the entryway table. Grabbing them, I head out into the darkness of the front yard with Jimin trailing after me.

“Will you sit with me for the next movie, noona?” Jimin asks, running a hand through his hair as we trek towards my parked Jeep.

“What’s in it for me?” I joke, unlocking the passenger side door and grabbing my bag. Turning back towards the house, I shut and lock my car behind me.

“Cuddles?” Jimin answers, eyes wide and bottom lip poked out.

“Stop that,” I moan, moving swiftly past him, “Puppy-Dog eyes? That’s so unfair!”

“Is it working?” He races to keep up with me, “I think its working.”

“You’re still on my shit list, Park Jimin,” I whirl around, drop my bag to the ground, and grab the front of his shirt. Moving to a standstill with his lips an inch from mine, I say, “Or did you forget?”

Jimin gulps, his eyes dark, “I didn’t forget. It’s all I’ve been thinking about.”

I place the lightest kiss to his lips, “Good answer.” With that, I pick my bag back up and waltz back into the house. “Are you coming?” I call at the boy still standing in the middle of the front yard.

“Now I know why Kook says you’re mean,” Jimin shakes his head at me as he regains the will to move.

“You’re a fast learner,” I comment, placing my keys back onto the entryway table. “I’ll sit with you.”

“Yay!” Jimin cheers, “I’ll go tell Taehyungie!”

“What?” I screech after the boy’s departing form, “I didn’t know this was some sort of package deal! Lord give me strength…”

Rifling through my bag to double check I have everything, I notice that I seem to be lacking a sleep shirt. How is it that I could pack three different pairs of socks for one night over but forget a fucking shirt?

“SOS,” I call out, zipping my bag back up. Once again, the sound of stampeding steps is heard before the seven of them appear above me.

“Someone needs to give me their biggest and comfiest t-shirt.”

A brief pause permeates the room before all seven boys dart into action. Left all alone in the entryway, I let out an incredulous laugh at how completely whipped I’m becoming for them.

After a few minutes, I hear them congregating in the hall just up the stairs. Just as I’m about to go investigate, they shuffle down. Namjoon presents me with a pile of what must be a selection of t-shirts from the bunch.

“We all want you to wear our clothes, so we decided to make it fair and just let you pick one without knowing who’s it is,” Seokjin explains.

Looking around the room, I can tell they all think this is a magnificent idea. Meanwhile, I’m baffled why they think I wouldn’t know who’s shirt is who’s just from the style, size, and smell. However, I decide to be a nice girl and play along.

“Okay,” I grab the entire pile along with my bag, “I’ll go change.”

“I’m so excited!” Taehyung bounces up and down, “She’s going to pick mine. I know it!”

“That’s because you gave her your Ce—” As Taehyung tackles Jimin to the floor, I take that as my cue to leave.

Speeding up the steps, I make a beeline for Yoongi’s room, entering and locking the door behind me. My bag is tossed on the bed first followed by the sea of mostly black and white clothing. They know me so well already.

I examine my options:

A white Balenciaga t-shirt with “Europe 2018” embroidered in red over the heart,

A soft pink hoodie by Marques’ Almeida with long black silky drawstrings,

A red and black striped Raf Simons long-sleeved shirt with sewn-on patches,

A Fear of God white t-shirt with the iconic “FG” on the front,

A black Mastermind t-shirt with the brandname and a skull and crossbones emblazoned on it,

A black Celine t-shirt also with the brandname on the front, and

A grey long-sleeved t-shirt by Carhartt with the name in blue along the sleeve.

Making my selection, I shake my head over the careless nature these boys handle their extremely expensive clothing. I am almost certain that Jungkook had given me the only shirt of the bunch that was under $100.

Regardless, I fold the rest of the shirts before stuffing them into my duffle bag. If they all want me to wear their clothes, I will - eventually. Quickly, I change into my sleep shorts, tug on what I assume is Hobi’s shirt, and head out of Yoongi’s room.

Opening the door, I blink as seven expectant faces shine back at me. Six expressions fall as one lights up even more. “You chose mine!” Hoseok cheers, running to engulf me in a hug that sweeps me off my feet, “Oh, you look so cute!”

“Can’t. Breathe.”

“Why’d you leave your stuff in Yoongi-hyung’s room, noona?” Taehyung pouts as the rest of the boys try to pretend like they also aren’t miffed.

“Because I’m going to sleep with him?” I march over to Yoongi and hug him from behind, pressing my lips to his cheek. “Is that okay with you, Yoongs?”

The boy grumbles under my show of affection, but his hands come up to clasp over mine as they circle his waist. “I can live with that, I guess.” The eye roll accompanying his words is so evident even when standing behind him.

“You’ll pay for that, baby boy,” I whisper in his ear before biting gently down on his earlobe, reveling in the cute little squeak that emits from him in response.

“She’s still sitting with me and Tae during the next movie, though!” Jimin - ever the instigator - interjects as the group makes their way back downstairs. Yoongi and I shuffle behind them.

The eight of us decide to watch The Hangover next since that had been the runner-up before. Once again, I’m draped between Jimin and Taehyung. This time, I’m fully placed on Jimin’s lap while my legs are sprawled out across Tae’s thighs.

My legs had barely even settled onto his lap before his hands were on them. This time I don’t even pretend like I’m paying attention to the movie. I’m more entranced by the way Taehyung kneads his way up my legs from my ankles to my calves to the insides of my thighs.

Meanwhile, Jimin is snuggled into me tightly. His face is shoved into the crook of my neck, and I honestly think he might be sound asleep. With each breath, Jimin’s pillowy lips brush my collarbone. I couldn’t tell if this is my own personal heaven or hell.

Looking up, I meet the dark gaze of Min Yoongi once again. Neither of us break eye contact as I try to read the look on his face and his body language.

He is either: 1) pissed off by something I did, 2) turned on by something I did, or 3) all of the above.

My hunch is the third. Testing that theory, I slide my tongue across my bottom lip. Sure enough, his eyes track the motion instantly before returning to mine. Bing-pot.

The movies seems to take way longer than it’s hour and forty-something minutes. I blame the combination of my sexual frustration and the varying degrees of awareness of it from the boys.

As soon as the credits roll, I extract myself from the holds that Jimin and Tae had on me. “I’m tired,” I lie.

“Aw,” Seokjin hurries over to me and sweeps me into a tight hug, “Get some beauty sleep, darling. Because, in the morning, I’m making pancakes!”

I place a swift kiss to his cheek, “Sounds perfect.”

I bid the rest of the boys goodnight with similar affections. Slowly, I make my way over to the stairs, knowing that Yoongi is trailing after me closely.

Making sure to put an extra swing in my hips, I climb up the staircase like I was getting paid to do it. Finally, I enter Yoongi’s room, turn to face the boy it belonged to, and tug him inside.

“What the fuck, Min Yoongi,” I hiss before closing the door behind him and shoving him against it.

“What?”

He has the audacity— I take a calming breath.

“You eye-fuck me throughout the entire movie and ask me ‘what’?” My hands curl into the fabric of his shirt.

A small smile makes its way across Yoongi’s face as my glower intensifies, “You can’t expect me not to think about that after you announce to everyone that you’re sleeping with me.”

“I didn’t mean literally, you buffoon,” I groan, turning away to head towards the bed.

Yoongi grabs my hips, halting me in place. “I know. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about what it would be like with you. What it would be like to be selfish with you.”

“You want to be selfish with me?” I ask softly, “What does that mean?”

“It means that I know that Tae was the first to get your mouth, but I want to be the first to give you mine.”

Yoongi’s words steal the breath from my lungs and the chill from my very soul. I gasp out, “You want to taste me, baby? That’s what you want?”

“More than anything,” Yoongi groans, pushing his hips into mine. “Please, (y/n), I’ll do anything to put my mouth on you.”

I pull away from Yoongi so that I can face him. His pupils are blown out, his hair is messy, and his expression is devastating with its pleading look. After being teased by so many of the others for the whole evening, he looks like my salvation.

“Okay,” I nod, lying down with my legs hanging off the edge of the bed. “Do your worst. No, not the time for that expression. Do your best. Please.”

Chuckling, Yoongi sinks to his knees before me, running his hands up my legs and resting on the hem of my shorts. He sends me an asking look, and I nod. His fingers shake slightly as he pulls off my shorts.

Left in nothing but pair of lacy red boy-briefs, I shiver in anticipation as I feel Yoongi slip a tentative finger underneath the remaining material.

“Fuck,” He groans, sliding his finger up and down my folds, “You’re so fucking wet, baby.”

“Well, do something about it,” I command, moving my hips up so that he might get the hint to take of my underwear. His finger slides out from underneath them and he doesn’t even hesitate before sucking it into his mouth.

“Yoongi,” I hiss, getting more and more impatient.

Yoongi pulls his finger out of his mouth, “Sorry, (y/n), I just want to savor this moment.”

“You can savor my pussy with your mouth,” I say, “Or are you all talk, Min Yo—”

Quicker than I can comprehend, Yoongi slides my panties to the side and licks a stripe up my folds. I moan as he sucks and licks at my pussy like a man possessed.

“Fuck,” I grab his hair and tug him closer, feeling him moan into me.

The build up of tension and frustration from being surrounded by these boys for the entire day has me on the brink of orgasm already.

Yoongi’s mouth closes over my clit, circling it with his tongue and flicking it slowly.

“More, Yoongi,” I demand.

He listens. Still worshipping my clit, Yoongi slips a finger inside me, curling it in such a practiced way I could scream.

He adds a second. Yoongi’s fingers thrust in and out of me as his tongue continues to taste and tease my pussy.

When he hits a certain spot in me, I moan his name, and I swear he growls. Repeatedly, his fingers hit that same spot inside me and I’m panting, trying my hardest not to come. Not yet.

“Harder!” I moan. Again, Yoongi follows like a good boy, his fingers and tongue picking up the pace.

Pausing to pull my legs over his shoulders, Yoongi meets my eyes. The pinkness of his lips glisten with my juices as he sighs, “I think you might be my new favorite meal.”

Before I can even respond, his resumes wrecking me. He fucks me with his fingers, grabbing at my ass with his free hand.

His mouth devours my pussy, wreaking havoc on my clit with every flick of his tongue.

My thighs quake as my battle to hold off coming becomes too much to endure. My back arches as the pleasure builds up with each quick stroke of his tongue and every movement of his fingers.

As if he knows exactly how to ruin me forever, Yoongi sucks on my clit harshly, and I come, my thighs trapping him between them. Despite it all, Yoongi continues to fuck me, lapping up everything like a starving man.

Soon, the overstimulation hits and I relax my thighs. Pulling his hair, I murmur, “Stop.”

Yoongi obeys.

“Come here,” I sit up, extending an arm out to him. He shuffles forward and when he is within reach I launch myself at him. Kissing him fiercely, I taste myself on his tongue.

“That was so good, baby,” I reach my hand up to stroke his flushed cheek. “Do you want me to help you out?”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head, “I would rather eat you out again.”

“You’re insatiable!” I cry, tugging out of his hold. “We’ll see…”

a/n: this chap got away from meeee AHHHHHH it’s the longest one yet uwu hope u enjoyed! :) also this is v unedited bc i wanted to post asap so keep that in mind hehe

@catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles @leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @karissassirak @weallhavesecretsinthebestway​ @cage7241​ @cvbachacbitch @honeyspillings @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @athletes-of-god​@doingmybestalltheftime @elraee @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @breeeeh17 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel @im-a-space-child @yeontanismypresident @drowning-in-oxygen @team-wang-puppy @lvvegood @anongirl007 @may114 @r-e-d-i-s-h @unatempesta-dipensieri @dragon-rider-with-a-book @blueberrygeniejam @wondrsblog @vi-hoshi @kirbykook @katemwatson @kawaiikpoplover268 @amsteramyy @sami4life @a-feeling-of-euphoria @the-jackals @bubbletae7 @platinum-grenade @bunnyboyenthusiast @brightly-byun @oofmeintheheadpls @sadboibts @lidda @goldenwidow3 @t-mel19 @lmkjimin @psiphidragon @jeon-joker @sathom013 @lustremyg @ggsmashgg @justyouraveragerando @shadowstark @our-little-meow-meow @baby-hobii @mythicalmeep @asifetch7 @kassandravictoria @eltrain80 @briannasthings @bumblekey93 @ohmwreckr @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @softchimmee @kookoo-kachoo @lenuminous @ass-hole-in-one @peaches-422 @spacejooon @sleepyje0n @uxwi @tellmeyoulovemepls @yady24 @lovesick-heart0 @redirect-min @hopetookourvibe @noonaduck  @mini-coop25 @multifandomgirl29 @rhd31 @yoongixvevo @sweetnspicy93 @kuppyjiminie @love-and-other-possibilities @fuckyouandtheboatyoucamein @geminidrawsstuff @livorna @naajix @minjoonhome @subtlepjiminie @mono-kookie @purpleheartsfortae @krystle1990 @jungkooks-nut-is-tasty-in-busan @sky-the-squirrel @jinyounglovebot @vivpurple7 @xcastielbabyangelface @patpus @daydreamingwithbts 

a/n: if u asked to be added to the taglist and u did not get tagged, u might be one of the couple ppl that i couldn’t tag [check ur settings, fam!]

[marshunter06]

hi hsdfkh i saw the soulmate prompts late but can you do first word and duncney together? have a nice day!

Hi! Of course I can! I’m happy you asked, I love filling prompts! This one was kinda fun to do ngl. Thx and hope you have a nice day too Doll (:

For those who missed it, the inspo/list is linked below!

First Words- the first word/sentence they hear their soulmate say is written on their body

Soulmate this, soulmate that, honestly Courtney is tired of hearing about the stupid red strings of fate and finding the one. She doesn’t have time for any of it, sure she indulged a little when she was young and in her rebellious phase, but it quickly ended when she realized she should focus on her future. That and the fact that there’s no way to romanticize the first phase her soulmate is supposed to say to her… honestly who the hell does this person think they are? She was absolutely horrified to find out she has the words Fuck off appear on her forearm when she was just entering high school. Not only is it totally inappropriate, but also why would that be their first words to her?

Timid and shy is not the way to describe Duncan and anyone that dares calls him a wuss would be beating to a pulp. Still there are those that like to pretend they’re tough and tease him over the phase inked on his forearm that his supposed soulmate would say to him. Excuse Me! Odd that it has a punctuation mark when most people just have words, and the fact that both words were capitalized. Whoever his soulmate is, he already decides he doesn’t like them one bit for having these two stupid words ruin his image.

It’s one of those nights, after being suspended again, Duncan has to move schools. Of course instead of going to bed early before his first day, he decides to stay out late and cause more trouble. Though normally he stays away from venues without alcohol and shitty cover bands, he’s still new to town and hasn’t found the best spots yet. That being said, he is absolute ready to murder this nerd with glasses who keeps going on and on about how his rap skills are going to get him all the ladies even though Duncan never asked. He thought he finally got away from him when he found a hidden stash of whiskey under the bar in a cabinet; the sound of a loud gasp as the ginger begins to lecture him on the dangers of underage drinking before he’s dragged away by his bandmates to prepare for the stage, is enough to make Duncan snap. He doesn’t realize the dork is already gone and in his place is an unimpressed brunette who didn’t even want to be here in the first place. He turns around and with an annoyed expression tells who he thought would be the ginger to mind his business.

“Fuck off.”

“Excuse Me!”

Both their eyes widen in surprise as they feel a burn on their forearms changing the phases inked there into their soulmate’s name instead. The sensation didn’t hurt, but it was definitely an experience to watch the words disappear then reappear with the names Courtney and Duncan in their place. Already off on the wrong foot, they both glare at each other and cross their arms, mirroring each other’s expressions.

“You!”

“Me! I should be saying that. What kind of guy tells his soulmate to fuck of the first time they meet?”

“And what kind of girl yells Excuse Me with an exclamation point?”

“It’s a perfectly valid response given what you said.”

“Whatever you wanna tell yourself Princess.”

“I have a name.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s Courtney. It’s literally tattooed on my fucking skin.”

“Ugh. Why are you my soulmate!”

“I’m wondering the same thing myself.”

“I’ll have you know that I… no, you know what? Forget it. You’re not worth it, soulmate or not. We met, but there’s no requirement that we have to be together. Not everyone ends up with their soulmate. We'll just be part of that statistic.”

“Fine by me.”

With that she angrily struts off as he turns the other way back towards the whiskey bottle except it doesn’t last long. Almost immediately the names on their arms burn, the pain intensifying with every passing second. They both quickly realize there’s more to these marks than they thought. Courtney rubs at her tattoo as she reluctantly walks back to where her stupid soulmate is. He has a smug smile on almost as if he enjoys seeing her suffer, she rolls her eyes, this is even worse than she expected.

“Looks like we’re stuck together Princess.”

“I hate you.”

“But you won’t later on. Face it Sweetheart, we’re meant to be. No point in fighting it. We should get to know each other, you’re easy on the eyes, I’m sure I could learn to love you.”

“Duncan?”

“Yes Courtney?”

“Fuck off.”

She kicks him in the crotch wearing a satisfied smile as she watches him fall to the floor in pain. This time when she walks away, the burning sensation doesn’t appear. As he lays on the floor to recompose himself, he admits he deserves that, but at least now he knows he’s in for the ride of his life with his soulmate. He’s looking forward to it.

[soulwillower]

heat waves • stanley uris

(stanley uris x reader smut)  

requested: stanley uris fic where he plays baseball and she plays softball please? best friends to lovers if you can! (bonus for borrowing each other's clothes) 

warnings: softball player! reader, swearing, smut at the end sorry, oral (male receiving), fluff mostly though, i promise, unedited as fuck i wrote this all in the last few hours LOL

i hope u dont mind i added smut at the end

(this was inspired partly by the song heat waves by glass animals but just a bit idk) 

[losers + reader are 18+.]

3.2k words i think

♡

it was hot.

in fact it was boiling fucking hot, in stan's opinion, and despite loving nearly everything about summer, the heat was the absolute worst of those characteristics by far. 

he sighs as he flies down the backroads, away from the baseball fields and towards his house. he's pushing his curls back from his face and groaning as he feels sweat beads on his forehead, his eyes catching the dying sunlight and making him itch to wash his hands.

it's june, and there's a deep heatwave that hit derry that's caused all the a/c units at the store richie works at to disappear from the shelves, the public pool that bill and eddie work at the become overcrowded with kids and families escaping the heat, and the baseball fields to be extremely blistering as mike, stan, and you had to stand under the sun all day the last two days.

his lips twitch up faintly at the thought of earlier today, when he'd had a ten minute break and had ran over in his spikes with mike to catch an inning of the softball game on the fields adjacent to theirs. 

the only reason they'd gone was to see you play, of course - and to your embarrassment, they'd caught right when you'd stepped to the plate and had hollered "yeah, baby! y/n/n!" loud enough to make everybody in the stands' head turn and embarrassing enough to make you giggle as you waited for the pitch. 

you'd hit a double then, which had also scored in two runs and stan had seen your smile as you stood out at second base, breathing hard and brushing the dirt off your pants. and when he'd waved to you, you waved back with so much pride and excitement that he'd felt his heart skip a beat.

he smiles to himself as he turns the corner into his neighborhood, squinting slightly as the air moves in squiggles feet above the pavement. he swears with a shake of his head - he fucking hates the heat, but the double edged sword of baseball season in the summer makes it worth it. 

his phone buzzes from where it's placed in his cup holder and he grabs it, smiling at the y/n y/l/n !!!!! that pops up at the top. he rolls his eyes as he answers, remembering the time when you'd called him a psychopath for having your full name in his phone contact, claiming you knew for a fact he somehow didn't know any other y/n's, so you’d added the exclamation points ‘just for flare.’ 

he answers, "hey, how was the last game?" he asks as he pulls into his driveway. "we lost." you grumble and he hums as he pulls himself out of the car, leaving his bat bag in the trunk since he's got practice tomorrow. "i'm sorry to hear that. d'you want to come over?" he asks casually as he makes his way inside and sighs at the relief of the air conditioning. "yes, yeah. i do." you say and stan smiles down to the ground at your goofiness. as he enters the kitchen he realizes his parents are out, so he asks, "can you bring food?"

you sigh and he can imagine your grin as you say, "god, the shit i do for you, uris. why can't we go together?" you whine. he snorts, "but i have to shower." he tries to reason, but you retort, "i just spend thirteen hours in the heat too, stan, i need to shower as well."

he smiles, walking up the stairs towards his room. "alright, alright. we can go together, just come over and you can shower here."

"did i mention i love you?" you sigh, almost dreamily. stan stops in his tracks, heart stopping and mouth going dry but still grinning as he hears his name yelled by a voice in the background of your line and you hiss back a muffled, "shut up!"

his face is red as he mutters, "yeah, yeah. love you too, y/n/n. i'll see you soon."

your voice echoes in his head as he stares at the tiles of his shower the entire time he's showering. did i mention i love you? as the ice cold water cascades over his sore muscles, relaxing him and breathing energy back into his tired body, he can't get you out of his head. 

your voice, your hair, the way you have so much confidence on the field and yet are the sweetest and funniest person he's every met. as his mind wanders, he thanks god that his shower is freezing and he groans, trying to stop imagining his best friend while he's in the shower.

did i mention i love you?

he steps out soon after that, feeling like a bit of a creep. as he ruffles his towel-dry hair, he hears his front door open. opening the door to the bathroom, he's suddenly facing you, clad in your dirty uniform, your visor still on your head and a tired but happy smile on your face. "where's donny and andrea?" you ask and stan shrugs, chuckling a bit at your dumb nickname for his father, "think they had some meeting and went out after." he's not really focused though, because he's aware that he is standing with only a red towel hanging low on his hips as you stand in front of him, your cheeks red and eyes wide, bouncing around him and avoiding eye contact, flustered as you clear your throat.

did i mention i love you?

he grabs his dirty uniform to sweep into the laundry and gets you a fresh towel, gathering clothes for you to change into before residing to his own bedroom. the shower turns on right as he pulls on his shirt and flops back onto his mattress.

he can't get you off his mind, which isn't necessarily a new development, but ever since the heat wave, his mind has been stuck in a loop that's never ending. y/n, baseball, y/n, baseball, y/n, y/n, y/n....

did i mention i love you?

it's hot in his room and he stares at the patterns in his ceiling, lifting a brow as the spots morph in and out of shapes and suddenly it's back to you, your angelic face in his vision and he almost groans. he loves you way too much, he thinks. 

he knows every single feature about you; enough so that your face, beautiful and clear as always, appears in his vision and he's fucked because he knows he’s still be able to remember where every feature, mark or blemish on your face is, even when you're not with him.

even though he knows that your relationship is just platonic, he still finds himself imagining his lips exploring the expanse of your neck and he yearns to touch every part of you, to be touched by you. he can't get you out of his mind.

the shower shuts off so he sits up and rubs his eyes - the danger and power the you have over him almost makes him laugh, especially because if you knew half the things he thought about you, you'd probably kill him.

he's smiling dumbly, thinking about the time you and bill got caught sneaking onto the derry golf course and made richie and stan pick you two up, right as you pad into his room.

"i look like a dumbass, stan!" you groan, lifting your arms as you spin a bit, and he almost dies. he has to shake his head to avoid you seeing his blush because you're standing in front of him, wearing his baseball team practice shirt that has his last name on it and his gym shorts, cinched at the waist to keep them on you and neither things fit you very well but he thinks he's going to lose it because his heart feels so warm. 

your hair is wet and making the shirt totally wet where the ends of the strands touch, your skin bright from washing off the eyeblack you'd worn all day. he's so lost in the image of you that you have to repeat yourself.

"stan! stop looking at me, oh my god i want to die." you shove your face into your hands and laugh. he shakes his head rid of his stupor and stands from his bed, laying a hand on your shoulder. "you look incredible right now, y/n. let's go, i'm hungry."

he grabs the hoodie he'd insisted you order for him early last year - with your club team's logo on it and a big, white #2 and your last name on the back. he knows it's too hot to actually wear it, but he's going to take it because you always get cold under his car's a/c.

he's not always the best at approaching you in a way that is comforting, but you beam at him as you follow him out towards his car. you're both walking slowly through the hot nighttime air, half because the air is so thick it feels like you're wading, but half from the exhausting day you'd both had. 

every muscle in stan's body aches as he pulls himself into the driver's seat, making sure everything was straight and in place. he doesn't even blush when he turns the key twice before starting the ignition, knowing that you don't mind and even show affection towards his compulsions after all this time. his heart thumps at the thought.

"where to?" you yawn as you ask and he can feel your eyes on him as he's leaning back, backing his car out of the driveway. he flushes once again under your beautiful gaze.

stan then finds himself in the back of his trunk at the quarry, the windows still up because you insisted it'd be too hot with the door open. he'd listened to you because you're you - but if it had been bill, or eddie, or ben, or mike or bev or especially richie he would have groaned and complained about how bad it was for his battery to keep the a/c running.

but it was you, so he did it with a smile on his face and a thump in his heart. you're sitting with your knees touching, stomachs full of fries, burgers, and vanilla milkshakes.

you're still working on your milkshake, spooning it into your mouth slowly as you tell stan a story about your day. "-and she slid under the tag - no, don't look at me like that, she was under it! - and the fucking ump called her out." you grumble, glaring into your milkshake. stan just grins, taking in your natural hair and how it's framing your face, the way your legs gleam in the moonlight and showcase the random bruises you have from taking pitches to the legs.

he forgets to respond and you look up at him, lifting a brow. "oh, yeah, i got a few bruises." you mutter, examining your leg yourself. you perk up, "look at this one! it's got stitch marks!" you say enthusiastically, pulling your bare thigh up so it's across stan's lap, scooting closer to him. he gulps, the proximity of you to him making it hard to focus as you run your fingers over the skin.

"shit." he mutters, hingers falling to touch the purple skin that was blossoming in a faint circle, red and purple stitch marks from the softball etching their way onto your skin. "that must've stung." he adds, eyes glued to your bare leg. you hum in agreement and suddenly your eyes are meeting his and he can't breathe at all.

you're closer than he'd expected as you straighten up, leg falling flat against his lap as you stare deep into each other's eyes. yours are swimming with wonder as you watch him, and he almost jumps when your hand lands on his shoulder. "what're you thinking? you're in your head a lot tonight, stan." you say gently, with all the care in the world and he doesn't really feel the usual twinge of guilt he feels for being more reserved than usual - instead he just feels like he may explode if he doesn't just tell you.

"y/n." he says it so quietly that all he can hear is the first part of your name. "uh-i... uh, maybe it's the heat wave, but..." he shakes his head, knowing that excuse with not work. you're too smart to believe a fib that simple. he sighs.

"no. no, i just- sometimes all that i think about is you." he says, his hand falling to rub over your bare thigh. he feels your muscles tense under his palm and he searches your eyes, his stomach tying itself into knots of anxiety as he waits patiently.

"what-what do you mean?" you ask softly, eyes flickering between his and he bites his lips, looking out to the quarry quickly before looking at you. he thinks about the days you've spent together with the others down at the water, all the drunken nights where you find your way to the clubhouse you'd all built in middle school.

he thinks about how you always, always make it to his games when you're not also playing; how you always sit at the far top right of the bleachers and scream his name loud enough that he can hear you even when he's way out in center field, how you always wear his away uniform jersey and give it back to him with a hug after the games. he thinks about all the hours the two of you have spent together at derry's batting cages, competitively keeping tallies of how many line drives you can each hit.

"stan?" you ask again softly, biting your lip. "i think about you too." you tell him, and he shakes his head, knowing that you aren't totally understanding him (but that's definitely not your fault).

"i think i love you."

he says it louder than intended, and it slices through the midnight air in a way that makes the world stagnant. he swears, even the frogs stop croaking, the cicadas stop buzzing, the wind stops blowing through the leaves in the forest.

"like... like you love me?" you ask, your leg still across his lap, hand still on his shoulder reassuring him that you at least weren't completely disgusted by his admission.

"like i'm in love with you." he reiterates, looking straight into your apprehensive eyes as he says it. it takes barely a split second before you're smiling at him in a grin that knocks the wind right out of stan's chest again. 

"what made you decide that?" you ask with a huge, breathtakingly sweet smile as your hands slide to hold his neck. he huffs a laugh, unsure still, "dunno. lots of things - everything about you, really." he mumbles, feeling slightly stupid but still incredibly giddy as you lean closer.

"well i'm in love with you, stan." you say, lips ghosting over his. he grins, the feeling of you so close to him making his fingers tingle as one hand stays on your thigh, the other falling to your hip.

he can't speak, so instead he closes the gap. your lips are warm against him - your whole body is - as you come to life, kissing him like you've been doing it your whole life. you whimper lightly and it makes him sigh with pleasure, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, tasting the vanilla of your milkshake on your tongue.

slowly, you slide onto his lap and his hands move up your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him, his tongue swiping against your plush lips. you're straddling him, cupping his jaw with both hands as you accept his tongue, yours caressing his sweetly and he wonders why you haven't been doing this your whole life.

he pushes against you, pulling you closer to him as you pull back for breath. "i've wanted to do that for so long." you mutter lowly as his lips immediately attach to the soft expanse of your skin, his fingers tickling down your bare thighs. he grins as he feels goosebumps form under his palms, biting down and sucking the soft skin on your throat, eliciting a moan from you. 

he pulls back a bit, "me too." he says, lips peppering kisses all the way up to your lips and catching them again, your hand sliding into his har and tugging on the strands.

you slowly grind against him and he groans at the feeling of you around him, the pleasure making his mind fuzzy as all he can think about it you. 

and then he’s dying because you’re trailing a hand down to palm him through his pants and all he can do is groan a bit against your chest and look at you because holy shit.

 you slide off his lap and down on to your knees in the small space between his legs, watching him with those beautiful doe eyes as you slide down his shorts slowly. 

he’s watching, lip caught between his teeth as you pull him free from where he strains against his boxers, licking your lips and pumping his base a few times. he grunts as your hand moves, the feeling making him twitch in pleasure. his cock is dripping precum and you slowly reach your tongue out, swirling around his tip. he lets out a dejected moan and grips your shoulders as you slowly take him into your mouth, wet and warm and perfect.”good girl.” he mutters quietly through his bliss and he notices how you flush under the praise, your tongue flattening as you take him further in. 

 as you bob your head down and try to take as much of him as you can, you look up through your lashes to watch him, the eye contact making his legs weak.

 his lips are parted, watching as you suck him off as his hips twitch, hands playing with your hair through his pleasure. "fuck, y/n..." he moans as you start to bob your head quicker, lifting one of your hands to grab his own. he lets you guide his hand to the back of your head and you gently put pressure on it.

he thinks he might faint as he realizes what you want. slowly, he pushes you further down on his cock and he gasps at the tight feeling of you gagging around him. 

 he groans, “you like that, hm?” quietly as you whimper around his cock, the vibrations nearing him to his high. “holy shit.” he mutters to himself as he moves your head, the lewd noises of his cock in your mouth and his moans filling up the car. 

you take him as far into your mouth as you can and he feels you try to relax as he gently pushes you further down on his cock until he hits the back of your throat. you moan, the vibrations pushing him to the edge as his hips buck up slightly.

you choke and pull off of him, catching your breath as you make eye contact, “being so good for me.” he mutters, his eyes glazed over as he watches you pump him. you smile, cheeks pink from the praise and he almost swoons with how fucking perfect you look. 

he lets out a low moan at your warm mouth taking him in, bobbing up and down. his hands push you down onto him again and he holds you there while he gently thrusts up, your hands on his thighs. he tilts his head back, eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss. 

its only a few seconds and he barely gets out a, "fuck, y/n, i'm gonna-" before he's spilling into your mouth. to his surprise, you moan around him and slowly lick him up and swallow, looking up at him with a tired smile.

“holy shit.” he says yet again, staring at you as you pull his shorts back up and bite your lip. he pulls you into a kiss and he can taste himself on your lips, making his stomach flip. 

"date me." he says quickly as he pulls back, his cheeks flushed from the taste of you on his tongue and the post-orgasmic bliss. you pull back, grinning. "well you don't have to be so polite about it." your voice sounds fucked-out and kind of raw and he’s certainly a dead man. 

he chuckles, rolling his eyes at your sarcastic tone. he loves you so fucking much.  "fine. y/n, please be my girlfriend. i want to be your boyfriend, i want us to date. please, will you go out with me?" his voice is dead-pan, but he's serious about it, and you can tell by his boyish grin.

you laugh, shaking your head. "god, was that so hard?" you ask, your hands rubbing over his chest, where his muscles tense in soreness. he then realizes you're still straddling him and how fucking sore you must be. he pulls you closer.

and then you pull him in for another kiss, both of your teeth clashing slightly from your grins. you didn't even explicitly say yes, stan wants to say, but instead he mutters, "did i mention i love you?"

you smile, cheeks red. “you might have mentioned it.” you say bashfully. he grins, kissing your cheek sweetly, hand running up your thigh slowly. “can i taste you, babylove?” he mumbles against your skin and he feels you shiver as you let out a quiet moan. 

you grin, kissing him on the lips, “why dont we go back to your place...can i stay the night?” you ask, cheeks aflame as you look at him. “i want to take our time.” you add. 

it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen and he nods, grinning at you. “fuck- yes, yes you can. of course.” he says, smiling at you. you kiss him heatedly, grinning as you pull back and lean over to crawl back to the passenger seat. stan slaps your ass lightly as you do and you squeal, grinning back at him with a lifted brow, “c’mon, uris. you’re scoring tonight.”

he rolls his eyes at your cheesy words and groans a bit, but he can’t ignore the butterflies that thrash in his chest nonetheless. 

you love him.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier @simplesammyx​ @dickology64​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a​ @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro​ @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs

[asunshinepuff]

Secrets of the Darkened Seas

🧜🏻‍♀️ Hello! Welcome to chapter three! Please please please give a like and follow to my co-author and best friend Luna ( @ladynightmare913 ) because this story would not be where it’s at without her help!

She’s incredible and deserves so much credit for working on this alongside me cause she works so hard. And I feel horrible that she isn’t getting the credit deserves.

Especially since this chapter includes some of her own ocs in addition to my own! There’s a lot of new faces to join us! All credit for creation goes to each other for our respective characters because we’ve both worked so hard to create our ocs and I wouldn’t dare want to take credit away from her.

As always, a reminder that there is some lore included within this, however, it will be explained over time so no worries. There’s no mention of lore for right now.

The Included lore on different types of merfolk will be taken from the book “The Secret World of Mermaids” by Francine Rose. We will not take credit for it’s writing. It’s a childhood book of mine that I adore dearly and sincerely think you should all check out!

Also! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list so that you don’t miss a new chapter!

Anyways, that’s about it. I hope you enjoy!

If you’ve missed any chapters here’s the link to the masterlist for this story Secrets of the Darkened Seas 🧜🏻‍♀️

Small warning at the start here, there is a minor character death included in this chapter.

.

Chapter 3: A Sea of Fireworks

Three years passed as The Dragon’s Pearl sailed the seven seas. There had been many fierce battles and grand adventures as Remus learned the ways of the sword from both Captain Hua and First mate Sandoval. During the past few years, Remus found a particular fondness for literature that grew further than when he was younger. Along the way, there have been many new companions to join the shipmates, and the secrets of a certain young man were revealed. A year on his own at sea taught Remus many things, but he couldn’t help but miss the company of those upon The Dragons’ Pearl. 

Now at seventeen summers old, the once young boy has grown into a fine young man. 

Under the sea, there was a mythical creature with bright shimmering amber scales, varying in shades of accent tones from the top of his tail, to his fluke. The moonlight breached the surface of the darkened sea, the light reflected off of his amber eyes, as if they began to shine and glow under the moon’s pale beauty. His medium length tawny colored hair flowed around him in the cool waters. The mer turned down before his arms moved forwards as he dived down deeper into the sea. The deeper he went, the darker it became. 

As he reached the seafloor, he swam at a leisurely pace, brushing a clawed hand against the seagrass. Looking up, the seagrass became littered with life, crabs, small, fish, seahorses, an octopus, and coral. He chuckled to himself as the fish scattered when he swam near them, a green sea turtle by his side seemed to follow him, wherever he went. It had felt too long since he had last been in the sea. 

Remus’ head turned sharply upwards as he picked up the sound of a muffled screeching noise coming from the surface. Then a muted bang before a flash of scattered gold light. With a strong flick of his tail, the floor beneath him vanished from sight as he neared the surface. 

Breaching from the water, he looks up to the familiar ship with concern, “Opal! What’s happening?!” He yells up to the deck. 

In an instant, a tall beautiful greek woman, around the age of twenty-three, with long light brown hair, hazel green eyes, lightly tanned skin peered over the railing of the deck to respond. She was dressed in a sea-blue off the shoulder long-sleeved shirt that was tucked into her light brown pants, with a black corset vest on top, and black boots. At her hip was a wide sword with a dark blue sheath, and its hilt had the detailing of a trident. 

“Min-Jun received a letter! We have to make port in Portland! The Blacks and Greyback were spotted off the coast of Dorset!” She lowers the rope ladder and opens the small gate, “Get your tail up here!”

Remus catches the ladder with ease and pulls himself up onto it, “What’s the sudden hurry? We’re currently off the coast of Dorset ourselves.” He comments, looking back up to his friend. 

“Quinn’s family lives in Portland, he thinks they’ll be going after them!” Opal replies, tossing down a blanket for Remus to dry his scales with.

Remus winces as the blanket lands upon his head, frowning as it blocks his view. Pulling the soft cloth from his head, he sets to work on drying himself and his scales, “But why would they go after his family?” He yells out. 

Opal pauses, a somber look upon her face as she watches Remus make his way up the rope ladder with his two legs, scales now nowhere to be seen. She shakes her head as he reaches the deck, “I don’t know. But I think something’s wrong.”

Two-quarters of an hour pass with The Dragon’s Pearl sailing at full speed to Portland. The sea seemed to be at their side that night, the sound of cannon fire reached the members of the crew. The lifeboats were lowered with First mate Sandoval and Remus inside one of the boats. 

Remus’ eyes widened when he saw the pitch-black sails of The Ophiuchus which could barely be seen from a distance. The ship’s colors had a black flag with a white skull with a snake coming out of an eye socket. The Blacks. The ancient pirate ship passed down from generation to generation of Blacks. Rumors and tales continuously traveled from sailors aboard many ships about the family, the ship gaining the nickname of Grimmauld amongst the gossiping sailors. Remus had heard many tales himself in the past. 

The Blacks were ruthless in their pliage for gold, leaving no survivors. There were tales of The Ophiuchus battling The Dragon’s Pearl when Captain Orion Black attempted to steal the other Captain’s ship. Although Captain Hua was young, he forced the Blacks to flee when their ship suffered too much damage. The Captain of The Dragon’s Pearl had given them a warning years ago that should he ever see them again, he would kill the Captain of The Ophiuchus.

The boats reached the docks before everyone ran up to the small town of Portland. Quinn cut down any pirate who foolishly stood in his way. Remus followed close behind, sword drawn at the ready, and cut down any pirate who tried to go after Quinn whilst the man’s back was turned. Remus had grown used to the occasional battle, but hardly ever were the stakes this high. Opal and Captain Hua had stayed on the ship with a skeleton crew, while the other sailors joined Remus and Quinn to shore. 

Remus stopped in his tracks when one of the pirates was running straight for him. With the sword in his hand, Remus quickly stabbed the pirate in the abdomen before pulling his sword free and running to catch up with Quinn. Who was running up a hill towards the Lighthouse faster than Remus had ever seen the man move. 

Up close the lighthouse was rather beautiful for its old age, time had been kind to it, yet the years have clearly made their marks all throughout the house. The lighthouse more than likely had many stories to tell. Standing tall with red and white patterns, a small quaint cottage at the base of the lighthouse became visible as Remus neared the property. The house was alight with shadows dancing across the windows as pirates breached the door, the sound of clanging swords could be heard coming from inside the house. Quinn cut down pirates until he finally managed to enter the house. 

Quinn’s eyes widened as he surveyed the state of the house, there were countless pirates from both the Black’s and Greyback’s sailors engaged in sword fights. There was hardly a break as he entered the fray of battle, cutting down unsuspecting men from behind and never letting his guard down.

A middle-aged woman with black hair tied into a messy bun, bright brown eyes, fair skin, and rosy lips gripped the rapier in her hand tightly as she slashed down another pirate. She twirled expertly, her white nightgown and dark robe twirling with her, to dodge a blow from another pirate before she stabs them, she pulls the sword free before she raises it to the man who just entered the cottage, freezing as her eyes widen in surprise. “Quinn!” She exclaimed before her eyes darted to a pirate behind him who began to stir awake. 

He smiles at the exclamation before following her line of sight, turning behind him he sees the pirate that began to stir awake. Flipping the hilt of his sword in hand, he stabs the newly conscious pirate in the chest before turning back to the woman, “Mother are you alright?” He looked over the cottage, objects just laying scatter on the floor before he looked back to his mother. 

“I’m perfectly alright, it’s your father I’m worried about, that blasted Greyback cornered him to the basement!” The woman turned her gaze to the young man who just reached the door, quickly assessing him before offering him a small nod. “And you must be Remus.”  

Remus nods in return, “I am. How did you-” He cuts himself off as the answer was obvious and gives his First mate a pointed look, “Quinn. You’ve told them about me haven’t you?”

“Remus. Who do you take me for? Of course, I did.” Quinn mirrors the same pointed look back, “How else do you think Min-Jun and I were able to help you as a child?” He looks back to his mother, “We better move quickly. Hopefully, father is using the basement to his advantage.”

“Quinn, this is your father, of course, he is.” The woman turns to a door that leads to a staircase to the basement. Quickly lifting her skirt the woman rushed down the stairs. 

The three rush down the stairs and into the large dimly lit basement, which could only be described as a very large study with storage. Bookshelves lined the walls and the shelves themselves were stacked with a variety of mythical things one would only believe to be within the tales. Color bottles and vials littered the shelves of the room, various plants were in every corner of the room. In the center of the basement, a large man with a cutlass scoured the room with a harsh glare for the man who was hiding. 

The man wielding the cutlass was large, nearly the height of Min-Jun and Quinn, he had a vicious looking face, with very long matted grey hair in dreads, a scar going across his right eye, the iris pale compared to its twin which was pitch black. His left ear had a gold hoop earring, his teeth were visible as he sneered at others who interrupted his dual. 

Remus’ eyes could only widen as he looked upon the large man, his breathing quickening and grip tightening on his sword. Every part of him grew defensive and fearful, his instincts screaming at him to get out. To run. He’s heard of this man before, Fenrir Greyback, a notorious and ruthless hunter of mers alike, capturing and selling mers for profit, or simply to just experiment on them. Other times he’d simply slaughter any merfolk he could find.

Greyback’s knuckles looked raw and battered with blood as he gripped his weapon tightly, his long yellowish nails were easily spotted as his right hand pressed against his chest, a wound with fresh blood seeping through his grey shirt. “This isn’t over.” He snarled before he ran out the basement door. 

Hidden behind a bookcase, was a middle-aged man with tousled red-brown hair with long bangs parted to the left, light-colored skin, and blue eyes. He wore a simple navy blue shirt underneath a grey robe, light brown pants, and dark brown boots. Eyes trained as he watched the burly man closely, sword drawn at the ready to continue the duel. He made no motion to move as Greyback snarled in warning, back pressed flush against the wood until he could hear the pounding footsteps a safe distance away. 

Relaxing marginally, he exits his retreat behind the bookcase and sighs, “That man is repulsive.” He mutters under his breath.

“You’re not wrong about that father.” Quinn chuckles as he gently pats his father’s shoulder. 

“Why would Greyback come all the way out here? Why would he attack you?” Remus looked at the older man.

“Probably because my husband has something he wants.” The older woman looks to her husband. “Are you alright?”  

The older man looks to his wife and nods, “I’m alright. If anything Greyback’s in much worse shape. That wound is going to leave quite a scar if untreated.”

“What was he after?” Remus looked between the older couple. 

“Something no one should know exists.” The woman looked around the room. Muttering under her breath at the state of the room. “But rumors are a powerful thing, especially when they hold truths.” 

“And especially if it makes you incredibly well known in the nautical world.” The man continued with a sigh. Moving aside his robe, he pulls free a rather thick leather book from an inner pocket and looks down at it. “He’d be a fool to think I’d just leave it lying about.”

Remus’ eyes looked over the leather book. At first glance, it was nothing out of the ordinary, but Remus knew better than to judge a book by its cover. It was what’s inside the book that Greyback took a slash to the chest in order to obtain. And failed. Whatever information that was contained inside the book was important. Why else would such a siege upon this small home occur? Enough to bring both Greyback and the Blacks themselves here. 

“This book is the only one in existence.”  The woman looked at Remus as she stood beside her husband. “It’s about your kind.” Gently taking the book from her husbands’ hands, she holds the book to Remus. “My husband wrote everything he learned about the magical creatures of the sea.” She smiles as she encourages Remus to take the book. 

“About my kind…” He repeats at a whisper before a realization comes to mind, amber eyes widening at the thought, “That’s why he wanted the book. To hunt more merfolk.” A cold shudder runs down his spine at the thought of Greyback getting his hands upon this book. No wonder the older man fought to protect it with his life. Mers alike would be in even more danger than in the past. And after seeing the man in person, Remus felt as though the rumors didn’t give any accurate insight as to how gruesome the pirate actually appeared, and the snarling tone of his voice would most likely echo in his mind for days. 

At the older man’s nod in confirmation, he looked back at him. “How long have you been working on this?” Remus asked as he took the book, with careful hands.

“Many years. I was a bit younger than you when I first started writing the beginning pages.”

Remus looks down to the worn leather book and opens to a well-kept page, Fantastic Nautical Creatures, by Newt Scamander. Remus’ eyes widen at the title and familiar name, pausing mid-turn of a page. Wait. Remus looks at Quinn with wide eyes, before he looks back to the older couple. 

“You’re Newt Scamander,” He looks to the woman, “And you’re Porpetina Scamander!” 

“Please, call me Tina dear.” She rubs Remus’ arm in a comforting manner. 

Remus looks to Quinn, an unreadable expression upon his face. Quinn had called them mother and father. That means… “You’re their son?!” 

“Quinton Scamander is my real name,” Quinn answered with a simple shrug. “Sandoval was the first thing I could come up with when you asked for my name. I’m not exactly used to keeping an alias.” He looks at his parents. “Why couldn’t you have just kept it at Quinn?” 

“And leave the Scamander tradition of giving horrible names? I couldn’t possibly.” Tina chuckled.

“Oh, you wound me, mother. What a way to keep tradition.” Quinn replies with a wince. 

“It’s not like my family did any better.” Tina retorts just as the sound of cannon fire boomed, echoing throughout the basement. Tensing, everyone turned their heads to the back door, and with a nod from Newt, they exited the damaged basement and headed to the cliffs.

As the group ran back towards the shoreline, Remus could see The Dragon’s Pearl exchanging cannon fire with The Ophiuchus. The ships both suffered blows from the other, only the Dragon’s Pearl wasn’t on fire. And what appeared to be Min-Jun, swinging on a rope, from the Ophiuchus back to the Dragon’s Pearl.

Quinn only groaned at the sight. “And he gives me lectures about swinging from a rope.” Hypocrite. “Why are you like this…” He mumbled under his breath.

Tina and Newt only chuckled as their son scowled at the captain. They ran to the docks just as the Ophiuchus began to make their retreat, and the Dragon’s Pearl making its way to the loading docks. Opal was the first rush down to welcome Quinn and Remus back. 

Quinn had a strange feeling, one that he couldn’t place as he looked over Opal. Relieved that the woman wasn’t injured in the crossfire, although he was well aware that she could easily handle herself. “Ti synévi?” What happened? he had asked.

“To shorten it: Min-Jun snuck onto Greyback’s ship and found two gorgónes. Mermaids. Brought them back to The Dragon’s Pearl, then snuck onto the Ophiuchus, rescued the second Black heir and brought him back as well.” Opal said with a shake of her head, “How that was possible, I have no idea.” 

“Sounds about right,” Newt replied with a chuckle.

The older couple looked at their son, who had never told them he learned and spoke greek. Newt and Tina looked at each other before sharing a knowing smile. Tina looked to the woman with the greek accent. “I’m Tina Scamander, Quinn’s mother. I wonder why my dear son would fail to mention a lovely lady such as yourself in his letters?” She turns her head slowly to glare at Quinn, who found the sea far more interesting at the moment. Tina looked back to the young woman. “What is your name dear?” 

Opal watched Quinn’s gaze quickly turn to the sea in embarrassment. Oh this awkward man. She fought the urge to tease the poor man, there was time to mess with him another time. Not in front of his parents. She smiled as she looked at Tina. “Opal Teresi. It’s nice to meet you.”

Remus looked to Quinn with a teasing smirk, “Really? You mention me in your letters but not Opal?” 

“Shut. Up.” Quinn says with wide eyes that seemed to promise pain with an unnaturally wide smile.

“You’ll have to write to me dear, Quinn hardly ever writes what’s going on in his life. I have to rely on Min-Jun for that.” She tsks she pats Opal’s hand affectionately.  

“I will,” Opal replies with a nod. 

“May I see them?” Newt asks the young woman. “The mermaids.” 

The young woman pauses for a moment and looks to Newt, “They’re terrified, so please. If there’s any way you could help.”

“Maybe I can get them to calm down?” Remus suggests looking to Opal and Newt. 

“That may be for the best.” Opal agrees, “We better hurry, Min-Jun wants to leave as soon as possible. Before the Blacks notice their son is missing.”  

Opal leads the group to the cabins, walking past many doors until they finally stop at one door with a circular window. Remus peered inside and froze when a pair of glaring eyes locked to his. Inside the room, there was a tall beautiful Asian woman with wet long dark brown hair, brown eyes, fair skin, and bright red lips. She looked to be about Opal’s age. Her tail was a dazzling array of soft blue scales that looked like misshapen spots, with white scales as the base, her fluke was nearly a translucent shimmery white. Her skin was pale, her arms were wrapped tightly around the smaller mer. Her tail coiled around them protectively. Remus nearly gasped. The mermaid only clutched the child tighter, her glare never leaving Remus’ face.

The mer in her arms was tiny. A child, who couldn’t have been older than four. The mer child had short soft silky black hair that was in disarray, brown eyes, light sun-kissed skin. The child clung tightly to the older mermaid's neck, their tail had pale teal and shimmery white scales with the same patterns as the older mermaid, safely tucked under her arms. The mer child’s shoulders were shaking, pearls littered the blankets beneath them. Tears. They sat alone in the room, laying on top of a few spare blankets for the cabin beds.

Remus’ gaze was pulled away at the sound of running footsteps, a sailor running past them in haste, to the infirmary. On impulse, Remus followed the sailor as they walked through the door. 

There Min-Jun sat on a chair, looming over a deathly still figure, his face pale. Min-Jun was holding the still figure’s hand. 

Remus gulped, scared to find out who the figure was. “Who…” 

Min-Jun looked up to see Remus. With pained eyes he looked back down to the figure. Gently putting the cold hand to rest on their chest. 

“Ethan’s dead.” 

.

Tag List: (Let me know if you wish to be added!)

@whataboutmyfries

@sunflowerfox87

@spookypotato​

[thedumbguywithaheart43]

Character 7 good night's rest hopefully probably not.

It had been about an hour after introducing courage to the girls. Boom had explained that courage was taken in after the death of his previous owner Muriel. Boom had rather not left him with hustis as courage no longer had her to defend him nor did he have anyone left to really protect. For anyone wondering hustis eventually moved to the city abandoning their old home."that's basically what happened I just couldn't leave him there"Boom sat down on the couch eating the freshly made ramen."oh you poor thing"Fluttershy had taken to holding and petting courage. Courage was a bit hesitant but no one can resist that girl for long and he rather enjoyed being pet by such soft hands."sorry about forgetting to warn you about him I tend to be forgetful at times."Twilight was glaring at him again."well in the future maybe be a bit more careful I consider us lucky that it was just a dog this time what if it was a rabid monster we know nothing about this place!"she was clearly trying to avoid yelling and failing."fine I'll try to be a bit more informative so I'll explain quickly courage and I are the only ones who live here. Additionally the laws of physics and nature here can often change on a dime. And because this place is made from thoughts your emotions can affect how the place is."there was a brief silence between everyone as they process the information they were getting."the panic and confusion is what caused the hall to disappear just be glad it wasn't acting off of anyone's anger trust me that never ends well."spike had begun laying across the sofa as his body began to relax. "I believe Spike has the right idea. Tomorrow we're heading to a somewhat dangerous place nothing we can't handle but rest would do us good."as if reacting to his words a hall with a bed symbol over it appeared along with pinkie pie surprisingly who was leaning against the hall."this place is amazing!all the rooms look just like our own rooms back home!"pinkie was jumping in place in excitement not to mention flapping her arms all around as she spoke. surprisingly no one reacted at this I guess after the crazy day we've all had it was kind of expected at this point.

2 booms perspective )Boom had walked off from the rest of the group down a hallway with a explosion symbol. Walk down the long hallway courage in tow. Upon reaching his door with the exclamation mark he opened it. Inside was a typical bedroom. One queen size bed a desk and chair and a computer stand other than that there wasn't much in the room there was no need this wasn't his permanent home. He look down at the small dog who had already gotten in his place in the bed right at the foot of it were a comfy pillow waited him."good night courage good boy"courage had given him a slight smile. It's been about 3 years since he moved in luckily it wasn't too hard of an adjustment for him poor thing probably just didn't want to be scared anymore.'well Better get to work.'boom sat down at his desk opening the drawer inside was a small syringe filled with a golden liquid. He frowned only one vile was left in a drawer filled with empty syringes. He slowly grabbed the syringe and lifted it up to his arm hesitating a moment .'is this really how I want to spend the rest of my life. Relying on this damn serum to avoid becoming a....'He shook his head."no only a little bit longer then I don't have to use it anymore I'll pick some up when I see the princess."he had to tell himself this to remind himself that he wasn't reliant on taking this once a week. Boomlord plunge the syringe into his arm he didn't even bother to look for a vain he knew exactly where it was. Suddenly he was far more awake as a surge of energy went through him then calm."well I don't think I'm sleeping tonight."he then looked at his collection of old books and comics and grab the Deadpool comic off the top shelf.'just for tonight I don't see the harm.

3 Twilight laid in her bed tossing and turning deep nightmare of what have happened earlier in the day had appear. The rage the anger the guilt. there was no nightmare Moon or Luna here this was all her. She of course woke up in a cold sweat."shit!"she grabbed her head and held it for a moment as if letting go would cause her head to fall off before finally coming down. She gazed her surrounding ,if not for the void outside her window she would have assumed she was back home safe and sound. She laid back resting her head on the pillow thinking about the weird guy she had met.'what kind of person did I meet today what kind of person just comes out of nowhere and acts as if he does it every other week what kind of person just results to violence and then just talks about it. Is he just crazy or am I just...'she stopped for a minute blowing some hair out of her face .' I mean I guess he's okay enough he's been rather reasonable but I'm still not sure who he is or if he can be trusted.'she wrapped her fingers against each other.'still for a weirdo I guess I can deal with them who knows maybe this will be enlightening'she then found herself slowly reentering sleep she dozed off this time no dream at all haunted her. And even if they did it was nothing compared to what she was going to have to face tomorrow or whenever they wake up there's not really a sun there.

[cloudyyoonji]

Heart Shot.

Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

Summary: You knew there was a reason you hated college parties, but this one was certainly a golden exception to your list. 

Genre: Fluff! College fluff!

______________________________________________

Letting out a breath, you can’t but help smile as you leave the exam hall, breathing in the fresh air in big gulps.

Your final exam for the year, it was finally over. You’re all finally free for the remainder of the year. You see Hyunjin running towards you, an equally big smile on his features.  

“How’d you go!” “It seems all the studying paid off.”

The boy rolls his eyes at you, chucking an arm around your shoulders as you walk.  

“We should celebrate.”  

You side-eye him.   “And how do you propose we do that.”  

“Well,” he’s stopped walking now, facing you with a large smile. “There’s a party tonight. We should all go to that.”  

You frown.   College parties were messy most of the time. You hated the atmosphere it brought; the binge drinking, and the bad hangovers you’d always live to regret.  

Hyunjin’s pleading stare triggers something in your heart, a softer part of you stirring in agreement.   Sighing at the boy, you nod, knowing that you’ll certainly regret the next 24 hours that follow.  

He lets out some sort of exclamation, burying you in a hug.   “You won’t regret this!”

Oh, but you know you will.

Trudging back to the dorms, the “what will I wear” question plagues at your mind, clothes replacing the papers that were spread out on the bed in less than a millisecond.  

Some hours later, your head is clear, and a sleek black dress is replacing your baggy exam attire, straightened hair replacing that low knot, and makeup covering your tired skin.  

Phone in hand, you make your way towards the college frat party, roommate at your side as she babbles on her phone.  

You check yours too, hoping that perhaps it’ll cancel out the sound of both your heels clicking on the pavement and the yelling of groups making there way to the party you were all destined too.  

It sure seems that no one actually knows the exact location, and were instead following each other around, hoping that everyone was headed to the same party.  

Your roommate must have good judgement in following people because upon entering the threshold of the fraternity house, you can immediately spot a few of your friends sitting on the couch - whom you’re roommate makes a beeline for-, and a few members of Hyunjin’s group scattered around the place.  

You head straight over for the drinks, taking one of the cups and filling it with one of the pre-mixed liquids.   It's bitter, but it certainly does the job.  

“Y/N!” Hyunjin appears, a jacket thrown across one of his nicer shirts.   “Did you come to see me?”

You shove him slightly, sarcasm lacing your tone.

“You wish. I came for the drinks actually.” “Do you even drink?”

You attention switches from the boy, to the girls on the couch, who are beaconing you over with flailing hands.

You shoot him a small smile, drink tight in your hands. “Can I catch up with you later? It seems I’m being beckoned.”

His gaze follows yours, a light smile on his features as he nods. “Of course, I’ll see you later. I better go find Minho, he’s gone already.”

Rolling your eyes and giving him a reassuring thumbs-up, you make your way towards the couches, sitting down in the pack of girls as they begin to gossip.

Half focused on the conversations at hand, eyes search for the brown-haired boy across the room multiple times throughout the night, making eye contact with a light smile, or a small wave.

“Yah, Y/N,” Sana’s hand smacks your thigh, causing you to snap your gaze on her. “Are you even listening?”  

Your attention is now on hers, a sheepish smile giving away your lack of concentration.   She shakes her head at you.

“I asked if there were any guys you were fancying right now?”   “Uh,” you stumble, shaking your head, cheeks red.  

“Oh, she’s lying,” your roommate laughs, shaking her head at you as her drink sloshes in her cup. “She’s just shy.”  

They all let out a chorus of “awh’s”, making you laugh as your eyes meet all theirs.  

Jisoo wiggles her eyebrows.   “You should go for it girl. Anyone that has you is a lucky fella.”  

You shake your hand, motioning her to stop.   “No, no! Cmon guys, it’s not like that.”  

“Girl,” Your roommate looks you dead in the eyes, which is slightly intimidating, a hand on yours. “Go for it. Seriously. You won’t regret it.”  

The conversation moves a million miles a minute, from you to drinks, and to online shopping.   You tune out, exhausted at your attempts of trying to keep up with conversations, searching for a potential way out.  

“Ladies! I need to go to the toilets, who is coming?”  

You shake your head politely, as the 4 finally stands, wobbling in their heels.  

“I’ll mind the couches.” You tell them, swirling the liquid in your cup before downing the bitter liquid.  

Tapping your fingers on your leg, you turn over your phone.  

No new notifications.  

Sighing, you lock it, eyes trailing around the party for a sight of a certain boy. Perhaps he could save you from the gossip queens of your nightmares.  

“Hey,”   He slips in next to you, surprising you so much you almost spill the tiny amount of liquid in your cup.   “Sitting with all your friends I see.”  

“You’re here,” you bite, “So that means you’re one of my friends.”  

“Sweetheart,” he does miss a beat, voice laced with flirty sarcasm. “Don’t you know we could be more then friends.”  

You’re unfazed by his words. This wasn’t the first time he’d flirted with you, in fact, it had become so integrated into your friendship, you barely registered with it now.

“Hyunjin lay off her.”   The voice comes from Bang Chan, who plops down into the seat next to you.  

You smile, elbowing a smug Hyunjin in the ribs.  

“Where are the others?”   “Around,” Chan sighs, gesturing around the room. “I saw Seungmin like a second ago, and god knows where Minho has gone-”  

“Y/N!”   He’s cut off by Jisung’s scream, now laughing as the boy tackles you in a hug, almost cutting off your circulation as he literally flops onto you.  

You pat his back awkwardly, stifling a laugh as he clambers onto the couch across from you, Felix shaking his head at the boy as he passes his drink back.  

“Designated?” You ask, putting your empty cup on the floor.  

“No,” he points to a socializing group. “Mark is designated. I’ve got an exam tomorrow. It’s a practical, but I thought it'd be safer if I didn’t drink.”  

Chan cringes at this, shaking his head.   “I feel so bad for you.”  

Felix laughs, patting his heart sarcastically.  

Dragging your eyes around the room, you can see you roommate giving you big thumbs up, gesturing to Hyunjin then yourself. You shake your head, eyes wide, the light blush on your cheeks blowing your cover.  

“What do you say, sweetheart?”  

You turn back to Hyunjin, eyebrows raised.   “About?”  

“We’re you even listening?” Chan teases, poking your side.   You shake your head, a sheepish smile on your features as you curl away from him  

“We asked if you’d like to come to laser tagging with us on Monday,” Jisung tells you, over dramatically tutting at your lack of attention.  

“Oh,” you nod, barely thinking about it.   “Yeah! I’d love too!”  

“Good,” Chan takes a sip of his drink, side-eyeing Jisung who seems to be downing his cup by the second.   “We decided on Monday because some people are probably going to need a few day’s to get over their hangover.”  

“Hey! I’m not even drunk!”   You all laugh at Jisung, who is pouting now, cup empty.

“It’s only 10, Jisung, you have all night,” Hyunjin tells him with a pat of the leg, biting back a laugh as the boy's eyes light up.  

“I need another drink,” you announce, getting up from your spot. “Anyone want one?”  

“Hang on, Seungmin's beat you to it,” Felix tells you, hand on your arm as he gestures towards the two youngest members who have 4 drinks between them.  

And he’s not wrong.

Three of you empty handers have red cups shoved into them by a smiling Jeongin and an extremely happy Seungmin.  

“Drink!” He announces, hand under your up to push it towards your mouth, doing the same to the boy beside you. “You two deserve this after today’s exam!”  

“You’re in that class too,” Hyunjin points out, taking another sip of the dark liquid.   You nod too, mirroring the boys' action.  

“No shit. That’s why I’m on my fourth drink. So drink up slow-coaches, you’ve got some catching up to do.”  

You smile as Felix hands a happy Jisung the drink Seungmin shoved in his hands, laughing as the boy looks up with such a pure expression of thankfulness, but his smile contorts to an expression of pain as Seungmin’s thumps on the couch next to him.

You screw up your nose as you take another sip, the alcohol strong in this one.

But with a few, maybe you could take the girls advice and ask the boy beside you out. I mean, what did you have to lose if you couldn’t remember half the night anyway?  

...  

“Cmon guys, parties over. Let’s go.”  

You groan at Mark who is pulling your stumbling self up, the alcohol warm in your stomach as you finally stand. Had the time gone that fast?  

“Come on, you can crash at Chan’s with the rest of the group.”  

Drunk you doesn’t process anything, but you still nod and smile wide, skipping to catch up with the group as they make their way back to Chan’s complex.  

You barely recall the walk - other then Minho screaming about being a superhero-, not even falling asleep on the floor of Chan’s living area.  

But you do remember the familiar searing pain in your head when you finally open your eyes, daylight pouring even through the closed windows too bright for you to process.   Here’s to regret, hey?

“What the...” You groan, hand on your head.  

You can see that everyone seemed to crash the night at the eldest’s house- with the exemption of Felix-, despite the boy being nowhere to be seen.

“Good morning.” Seungmin smiles from the couch, phone in his hands. His voice even though barely above a whisper, makes you wince in pain.  

“What time is it?” You whisper, eyes darting to the couch, seeing a sleeping Jeongin across from him.  

“10:02,” the boy replies a matter-of-factly, fingers tapping on his phone. “Mark has gone to get some painkillers for us. He came back to check on us this morning.”  

You nod at his words, gently pushing yourself into sitting position, pulling the blanket closer to you. Though your arms are sheltered by an unknown jacket wrapped over your shoulders.  

You rub your eyes, sighing into your hands.  

You can recall a few things from last night;   Jisung downing more than one cup after he lost multiple games of rock-paper-scissors, Minho almost face-planting on the pavement, downing a series of shots with Changbin, and your friends making wild gestures between yourself and the dark-haired boy who never left your side.  

Thankfully, you didn’t end up asking him out, in fact, you’re sure your only embarrassing incident of the night was when your drink had missed your mouth, though the situation was extremely fuzzy one your mind.  

Grabbing your phone from your front pocket, you quickly flick to your messages, seeing a few from your drunken roommate. Tapping on Felix’s name, you can see that you’ve already sent him a 3:00am “good luck” text, hidden in half the keyboards letters.   At least your subconscious self had the initiative to send the boy a ‘good luck’ text.

Another painful groan fills the room, this time from Jisung, who now sits with his back rested against the couch, wiping his face with his hands as if to simply ‘wipe off’ his hangover.  

Next to him, Bang Chan stares up at the ceiling blankly, blinking almost full of regret.  

A shuffle from the kitchen catches your attention, watching as Changbin comes shuffling in, a stack of plastic cups in one hand and a water pitcher in the other.  

He places it on the coffee table, a beacon that seems to summon all those who are awake.   And even those asleep it seems.  

It’s almost like a new morning ritual, all 7 of you, drinking water like your fish out of water.  

When the painkillers are handed out, you all can almost feel like your normal selves again.   Well, at least you do.  

Upon trying to swallow his painkillers, Minho immediately sprints in the bathrooms, poor Mark, caught in the midst of your bad decisions, following him with a sigh.  

You grimace, looking down at cup before placing it on the table, looking up at Hyunjin who seems to mirror your disgust.  

“What does everyone remember last night?” Jisung asks, trying to mask the awkward silence and even awkwarder sound of Minho throwing up.  

“I remember Y/N and Changbin doing a shot race.”  

You direct a firm glare at a mischievous Seungmin, who only laughs at your glare.   Chan also seems to find this funny, nodding as he throws his head back in laughter.  

“And when she lost she had to drink her whole cup, which ended up down the front of her dress because she missed her mouth.”  

“We don’t need to recount that,” you say over the laughter, crossing your arms. “Besides, Han Jisung, you spilt your drink all over yourself when you hugged the maknae.”  

His smile drops as he groans in embarrassment, turning to a silently nodding Jeongin for confirmation.  

“Fuck,” Minho swears as he slinks into the room, hand holding his head. “The regret is sinking in and it’s barely 11 o’clock.”  

You give him a look of pity as he sits across from you, Seungmin reaching to give him a fresh cup of water as Mark hands him the second lot of painkillers, bidding you all a ‘goodbye and good luck’ when the boy stomachs it without a problem.  

“Whose jacket is this,” you ask, fingers pulling the jacket closer to you.  

Hyunjin raises his hand, leaning on his other arm, head lulled to the side.  

Oh.

You feel your heartbeat slightly pick up as you gingerly nod, eyes trailing down to your fidgeting hands.  

You quietly listen as the group estrange more embarrassing stories, your focus mainly on the fabric of the jacket covering your goosebump ridden arms.  

“Yah, Y/N. You look like you need a coffee.”  

Looking up quizzically at Changbin, who seems rather concerned.  

“Ah,” You push your loose hair behind your ear, “I think I drank too much last night. I’m not feeling the greatest.”  

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever heard the words come from her mouth before. Y/N?! Hungover?!”  

You glare up at Chan, the iciness making him hold up his hands in surrender as the rest laugh.  

Conversations drift off, each boy, with the acceptation of Chan, making their way back to their own apartments as you all conclude that sleeping is probably the best cure for a hangover.  

“Do you want to come get some coffee with me?” You ask Hyunjin as you’re walking back to your apartment complex.  

“Asking me on a date already, sweetheart?”  

Even in your hungover state, you manage to hit him in the chest with some strength.  

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you scoff, shaking your head. “I thought you could use one considering you also look like shit.”  

He stops, hands in his pockets as he nods.   “And I feel even more like shit, please, don’t forget feel. How about I meet you at the cafe in 10? That gives us time to change and, oh I don’t know, brush our hair?”  

You raise an eyebrow at his lame excuse, but neither less nod at his plan, slipping the jacket around your shoulders off and holding it out to him.   Shaking his hand his already taken off towards his dorm room.  

“Keep it for now, I’ll get it at breakfast!”  

Shaking your head, you can’t but help laugh at the sight of the hungover boy speed walking, turning to make your way to your own dorm room, desperate for a quick shower at the very least.  

Perhaps it was his jacket that was throwing you off all morning. Yes. It had to be the fact he’d actually given you his jacket last night.  

You can’t even focus on eating, rather sneaking glimpses at the fresh-faced boy who is sat across from you, dressed in that exact jacket you’d handed him only a few moments prior.  

“So you’re coming to laser tag on Monday right?”  

You nod, a light heat swelling over your cheeks as he looks up at you.  

“What,” the boy muses, “Do you find me unbelievably attractive?”  

Rolling your eyes, you play it cool, despite your racing heart and bouncing leg.  

“You wish. I actually just remembered something quite embarrassing from last night. Plus, didn’t I tell you? You look like absolute death right now.”  

Hyunjin winks, biting into a piece of toast.   “Only for you, my love. Only for you.”  

Shooting him your best-disgusted look, you take a bite of your own food, silently thanking that he couldn’t hear how fast your heart was racing, or how your mind was whirling at this precise moment.  

The feelings had come in tingles.   You’d met through Chan some years ago, upon first meeting countless flirty comments almost defining your friendship for the year to come.  

You’d brushed it off, and so had he.  

Chan had mentioned that Hyunjin’s regular nature was often just full of harmless teasing, and that’s exactly what you saw, his harmless flirts that certainly only grew as your friendship had.  

You’d seen him at almost every point, low and high or just medium. But when you two were together, you just felt so comfortable, able to talk about absolutely anything, no matter the problem.  

He was your best friend, there was no doubt about it.  

But his flirts had come back to hit you, his cheesy nickname calling unsettling something a little deeper in your chest.   You could feel yourself developing some feelings other than your regular friendship, and you absolutely hated it.  

You hated to like your best friend; Hwang Hyunjin.  

...  

When Chan had organized the laser tag plan, the boy must’ve known something you hadn’t, because it truly seems that your hangover -and the rest of the boys’ for that matter- really had seemed to last for days on end.  

“Suit up everyone!”  

Eagerly, you spring up from the plastic chairs, following the cheering boys towards the darkroom you’d soon be kicking ass in.  

You struggle with the vest, thanking Changbin as he pulls it off the holder for you, equipped with the laser gun and the heartbeat monitor on your wrist.  

The instructions are read out, but you barely listen to them, rather observing the escalating monitor when a certain boy rests his hand on your shoulder.  

You blame it on adrenaline, blood pumping upon the word go. You’re shooting for your team now, to completely annihilate the other team; Hyunjin’s team.  

Jisung and you are a match made in heaven when it comes to laser tag, almost too professional. Back to back, you take out every blue light that comes your way, untouched by the lasers of the opposing team.  

“Cmon,” You grab his arm, stepping into another narrow passage. “It’s clear.”  

You’re almost sure it’s clear, creeping carefully as you both enter the uncovered space.

You barely see it, but upon Jisung’s horrified scream, you turn, eyes wide.   Chan is smirking opposite you both, gun pointed at Jisung’s vest, which now flashes in irregular lights.  

Shit.  

You drop his arm, bolting away from the Australian, ducking for cover so you’re hidden away from view of all the triumphantly yelling boys, cringing at the screams of a powerless Jisung.  

When the footsteps quieten, you peak out from your spot, running into the maze of black walls to target someone else - and maybe pick up a new partner whilst you were at it.  

Upon hearing the rapid footfalls of someone coming towards you, you push yourself into a corner, praying the boy running towards you won’t see your blue light.  

An evil smile makes its way onto your features as the boy runs past you, face too dark for you to identify but his red light bright.  

You crane your neck to see if the boy’s disappeared, detaching yourself from your hiding spot to continue your hunt, turning the corner.  

Body colliding with the chest of a tall figure, your eyes go wide as you step back, seeing the gleaming red light that is almost taunting in nature.  

Hyunjin points to your feet.   “I could see you hiding.”  

You hold your hands up in surrender, eyes not leaving his gun.  

His fingers wrap around the trigger, gun raised at you.  

“Cmon,” You plead, stepping back, finally meeting his eyes. “You don’t have to do this.”  

But your back presses against the wall, instant dread settling in your stomach.   Shit. Now you’re screwed.  

“Now why shouldn’t I?”  

“Uh,”   You try to think quickly, mind racing almost as quick as your heart. “Because I’ll buy you a coffee after this?”  

You cringe at the lame excuse, but it seems to have some effect, because the boy is lowering the gun, nodding as he takes a step towards you.  

“You’re heart rate just went up.”  

Eyebrows furrowing, you’re eyes flick to the monitor then back to him, watching as he takes another step.  

It goes up again.   Now you’re really screwed.  

“Am I making you nervous, sweetheart?” Hyunjin muses, eyebrows raised, gun in hand behind his back now.  

“Uh...” You trail off, too nervous to answer as he approaches you with slow steps.  

He’s close, and he’s not stopping. Why isn’t he stopping?  

You swallow nervously, eyes faltering when the boy is inches from you, heart beating in your mouth.  

Was this... did this mean... did he feel the same way?  

His hand comes soft on your hand, tugging you towards him to close the small gap between you too.  

Kissing Hyunjin is everything you’d thought it would be, but you’re so shocked, it seems to only last a second, the boy smiling wide when your eyes open.  

“That was because I like you,” he tells you, taking a step back, hand still on yours.  “And I think you might feel the same way.”  

Another step and your hands drop, you watching the boy in disbelief as he smiles down at you.  

“And this is because I want to finally take you on a date.”  

With no mercy, the smiling assassin shoots your vest, the vibration and rapid blinking lights enough to deter you from your thoughts.  

“Hey!”  

But when the word finally leaves your lips, the boys gone, taken off down the maze of corridors. You sprint after him, the initial shock of his kiss wearing off- or only somewhat off.  

The boy likes you. The boy kissed you.  

Your body collides with another, both of you falling to the floor.  

You can clearly see this boys face, face screwed up in initial pain.  

“Shit, sorry Felix.”

The boy looks up, a smile on his face when he sees you, quickly checking to see if your covers had been completely exposed with the loud exclamation of pain.  

“It’s okay, come with me, I know where they’re hiding out. We can shoot them before the game finishes.”  

Nodding, you follow his lead, running through the maze and into the sea of nets and logs.  

He presses a finger to his lips, beckoning you to follow his lead as he lays down, pointing to something you can’t quite see.  

You lay next to him, upper body pressed up as you crane to get a glimpse of the group.  

And there they were, back to back, eyes watching as 3 of the 4 band together to take out your team.  

1.  

You’re quiet, stealth-like as you rest your gun in the crack of the object you’re both hidden in, ready to fire.  

2.

You quickly check the surrounds in hasty flicks of your eyes, nodding to give the all-clear sign to Felix.  

3.

Fire.  

Rapidly, you both pull your triggers at the group, smiling at the screams of terror as their vests go off one by one, their lasers hitting every surface but Felix’s and your own vest.  

“The game has ended. Please make your way back to the entry by following the arrow signs. Thank you for playing.”

Pushing yourself up, you high-five Felix when the three boys groan finally see you, all 5 of you making your way back through the maze to get back to the entry point.  

But it’s only then your nervousness starts to set in. You're left fumbling with your vest, unable to even lift it.  

Your arms and legs are like jelly, heart beating too fast in your chest.  

Chan generously helps you with the vest, complaining about how your team unfairly won.  

You thank him, poking his side with a smile.   “Don’t be such a sore loser. Your team just sucks.”  

He pouts as the - now unarmed - five of you make your away back outside, awaiting the arrival of the remaining boys.  

“Yah! We won!”  

You can hear Jisung before you see him, the boy barreling out of the store, hitting Chan and Minho squarely in the chest before throwing his arms around both yourself and Felix’s shoulders, grip tight.  

You laugh at his childishness, eyes landing on the opening door.  

The sight of Hyunjin makes you collapse into a nervous wreck, cheeks red at the sight of the boy.  

If Jisung wasn’t supporting you, you’re certain your knees would give into the nerves.  

His gaze is on Changbin, who seems to be teasing the losing team, fingers poking the boy in the ribs as the younger boy rolls his eyes.  

You quickly look away when the boy turns to face you all, concentrated on the concrete.  

“Let’s head back guys.”  

You all disperse into 2 cars, yourself squished between Hyunjin and Seungmin, Chan at the wheel whilst Minho mans the aux cord in the passengers side.  

The car ride feels awkward, eyes never leaving the view out the windscreen, thoughts swirling in your head like a whirlpool.  

You just needed to process it, that was it. Process the idea that the boy you liked not only just liked you back but kissed you too.  

The group almost disperses immediately upon arrival of the college campus parking lot, ‘thankyou’s’ and ‘see you soon’s’ light in the air as you part ways.  

“Y/N! Wait up!”  

You stop upon hearing your name, a little nervous when you see Hyunjin jogging towards you.  

“Can I say something?” You blurt when he’s close enough, avoiding his eyes when he nods.  

“Do you like me? Because,” you fidget with your ring, looking down now. “I just want to be sure.”  

Hyunjin laughs, a breathless laugh this time, hand coming into contact on your shoulder.  

“If I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have said I did. And I certainly wouldn’t have just kissed you in the cheesiest way I could. Believe me, I did it because I genuinely like you Y/N, and I think you might feel the same.”  

Your cheeks are red, but you force yourself to look up at the boy, nodding.   “Yes, I do. I do like you too.”  

The instant his eyes crescent into smiles, you find yourself relaxing, feeling a little more like your old self.  

“So can I take you on a date,” he asks, a tad bit of nervousness making its way into his voice.  

“You sure can Hwang Hyunjin.”  

So you two begin walking towards the cafe, all smiles at your newly kindled relationship.  

“Hang on.”  

You both stop, your eyebrow raising at the boy who is shedding off his jacket.   Watching, he straightens it out, before throwing it around your shoulders, a nervous smile on his features.  

You smile too, gently taking his hand in yours as you begin walking towards the cafe.  

It’s almost scary how comfortable you feel with him, his hand in yours like it was almost made to be. You’d held his hand before, but it was nothing like this.  

This almost felt like a new Hyunjin, a more than a best friend Hyunjin, a Hyunjin you couldn’t wait to get to know better.  

“So,” he starts, eyes wandering over the campus. “You’re paying, right? Because as I recall it, you did in fact promise.”  

“But you shot me, so the deal is off.”  

He scoffs at this, turning to face you.   “But I kissed you before I shot you. That’s got to count for something right?”  

Shaking your head, you laugh at his groan, a wide smile on your features.  

“How about I pay for this one, but you have to give me a do-over with that kiss.”  

“What, it wasn’t good enough for you?” He asks, stopping, eyebrows raised. “Or is it that you can’t resist my charms?”  

Shoving him in the chest, you walk off. “You’re way too cocky Hyunjin.”  

You can hear his laughs as he runs to catch up with you.

“Only for you my love. Now let me fulfil your wishes.”  

A hand comes into contact with your wrist, successfully spinning you around to face him in the cheesiest way possible, your hand coming to rest on his chest.  

You feel the same nervousness as you did in the laser tag maze, eyes closing at the boys' close proximity.  

But the kiss never comes, rather a rough kiss is pressed to your cheek, the boy sprinting off towards the cafe with a cackling laugh.  

You sprint after him, stifling laughter at the boys childishness.  

“I am not paying Hwang Hyunjin, you've just killed me twice!”  

[drawlfoy]

Kricowl

masterlist

request guidelines

yes i’m actually back now lol

also this gif is the most adorable thing i’ve ever laid eyes on i love it to the pit of my soul 

pairing: draco x grangertwin!reader

request: yes! thank you!

summary: reader is a gryffindor along with hermione. she originally shares her twin sister’s feelings about draco, but then when she sees something one day her opinions change...but the question is will it be mutual?

warnings: cursing. if you’ve read any fics before you know me well enough by now to assume

a/n: heyyy i’m back!! i finished my act on saturday without too much trouble. i either did really well or painfully mediocre. it totally depends on how good my guessing skills were that day. also, i’ve started a new job, which has been fun but has also filled up my schedule more than i would’ve liked. i’m back now, and you’ll notice that my fics are a little longer. i’m no longer planning on publishing 1-2 fics a day. instead i think i’ll write longer ones over the span of a couple days. thanks for reading, and as always, requests are open! i’ll try to burn through my current ones too, so if you’re still waiting on a request, it’ll be out in the near future!

music recs: i’m literally listening to creepy reddit stories asmr lol

word count: 4,317 (wow! longest one shot i’ve written!)

“Y/N!”

Hermione’s voice rang out from across the courtyard, pulling Y/N’s attention away from the little robin chirping excitedly at her from the bushes. 

“We’re waiting!”

Y/N rolled her eyes. Hermione and her obsessive scheduling.

“I’ll meet you there later, ‘Mione! I’m busy right now!” she yelled back, hoping that the robin wouldn’t fly away from her raised voice.

“Suit yourself!” 

With that, Hermione dragged Ron and Harry off to somewhere else, no doubt the library. Or perhaps the kitchens, if it was Ron putting the destination requests in. 

Y/N turned back to the robin in bush, still waiting and staring at her expectantly.

“You’re a smart little thing, aren’t you?” she cooed, fishing through her pockets. The packet she was looking for was in there somewhere. 

As she searched, she noted that the robin had an interesting mark on his orange chest--an odd sprinkling of grey feathers across the middle. The color difference only served to make the little bird more endearing.

Y/N’s fingers closed around the packet, sighing in relief and pulling it out.

The robin chirped when it saw the crushed peanuts, hopping on a branch just a tad closer.

“Easy, there,” she mumbled. “Give me a moment, darling. I just need to open it.”

Once she succeeded, she placed the peanuts on a branch close to the robin, smiling as the bird hopped closer and began to feast. 

“What are you doing?” 

Y/N spun around to see the last person she wanted to see--a confused but flushed Draco Malfoy, wearing that stupid fur hat and black leather gloves to ward off the cold weather.

“Being a charitable person, Malfoy,” Y/N snapped back, motioning to the bird, who was just about to finish up the peanuts.

“No!”

Y/N jumped, shocked at the sudden burst of energy from Malfoy. She watched, stunned, as the blonde boy leapt forward, snatching the bird before it could fly away.

“What the fuck, Mal-”

“Are you trying to kill this poor thing?!”  Malfoy cut into her exclamation. He was suddenly frantic, attempting to steady the bird in one hand and locate his wand in the other.

“What are you talking about? I feed robins peanuts all the time, they love them.”

“Are you daft, Y/N?” Malfoy snapped. “This isn’t a robin! Look at the grey feathers on its chest! This is a Kricowl, it’s not a robin! It’s deathly allergic to peanuts!”

“A what?”

“Shut up and grab my wand out of my pocket!”

Y/N had never seen her arch-nemesis look so scared as she reached in his pocket. The lining of his pockets was soft and felt obnoxiously expensive. His coat probably cost more than the price of everything in her room combined.

She pressed his wand into his free hand and watched as he pressed the bird down on the table next to them, muttering incoherent spells under his breath. Within a few seconds, the bird opened its mouth and began heaving, chunks of peanut coming out completely undigested. 

Stealing a look at Malfoy’s face, Y/N was stunned to see how concerned he looked for the little bird, even going as far as to reach out and stroke the soft, orange belly of the Kricowl. She could’ve sworn that she heard him whisper a pained “don’t you worry, you’ll be alright”.

Once the bird had seemed to expel all of the nuts it had consumed, Malfoy turned to her again.

“Go to the potion supply cupboard and bring back some knotgrass, you hear me?” 

Y/N turned and sprinted to the potions classroom, her sassy comebacks dying on the inside of her cheeks. It had become abundantly clear to her that Malfoy was not messing with her--why else would he have asked her to reach into his pocket?

She returned a few moments later, holding the knotgrass out to the blonde. He grabbed one of the leaves, twisting it over the bird’s mouth and landing a drop of something into its open beak. 

Within seconds, the bird was back on its feet and flying up, far away from both of the students.

“I had no idea,” Y/N breathed. 

“I mean...” Malfoy gave her a sideways glance. “I can’t blame you. It’s not like it’s your fault you were born inferior.”

Y/N bit the inside of her cheek as she thought. 

“But it’s your fault you’re such an intolerant ass,” Y/N responded. “I bet that Kicrowl is the only thing on this campus that appreciates you.”

“Kricowl. And thank you for your input, I value it so, so highly.”

With that, the blonde huffed and turned, sauntering off to wherever rich purebloods went after they said their mandatory bigoted remark of the day.

♥♥♥♥

Y/N had only ever spoken to Pansy Parkinson directly once, and that was plenty enough for her, thank you very much. Her vile nature was something that made Y/N wish she was a Kricowl gorging itself on peanuts. The one time they interacted had been when Parkinson had sat in Y/N’s newly assigned seat in potions in the beginning of term. Y/N had kindly asked for her to move, to which she had responded, “Sorry, I have trouble hearing those with with bad breeding. Can you come again?”

Y/N had sat in a different chair that day and for the rest of the days remaining. It wasn’t that she was afraid of Parkinson--no, she just had better things to do. It was so much more fun to goof off with Harry, Hermione, and Ron than to sit and plot her revenge. That was a Slytherin school of thought, and there was a reason why Y/N was a Gryffindor along with her sister. 

Unfortunately, she was unable to keep this quiet streak going with Parkinson. 

It was a crisp February morning, and Y/N was on her way to her first class when she heard yelling from her left. Swinging around. she saw Pansy shrieking at a pair of two young Hufflepuffs. She moved closer to investigate and soon realized that a crowd was forming around them, a group of interested students who were too afraid to step in. The Slytherins were grouped on one end, laughing like sadists and watching as Pansy’s comments caused one of the girls to start tearing up. 

Y/N moved closer, leaning her head in to hear what they were saying.

“-and YOU have the audacity to trip me!”

“It was a mistake, I swear! Like I said, I didn’t mean to!” the young Hufflepuff cried out, her voice jumping up a few octaves.

“No matter! I’m not attending a school where Hufflepuff halfbloods can get in my wa-”

“Excuse me?”

Y/N stepped into the circle the students had formed before she could stop herself, bracing herself for the impact to come. 

“I don’t believe I was talking to you, mudblood,” Pansy spat, digging her heels in and puffing out her chest.

Ignoring what the pureblood had just said to her, Y/N began, addressing everyone standing around the scene.

“Listen, can we just admit what Pansy is too embarrassed to?” 

Whispers began filling the crowd. Pansy looked like she didn’t quite know what to do.

“The Hufflepuffs didn’t trip her,” Y/N said, motioning to the two quivering girls next to her. “It’s her heels. We’ve all seen it. Pansy can’t walk in them, but she still insists on wearing them every day.”

Pansy stiffened up, glaring at Y/N, and then trying to glance anonymously at her feet, clad in heels that were ill suited for school. Everyone else in the crowd did the exact same thing. Laughter rippled through the courtyard as people began to remember all the times they saw Pansy stumble around in her shoes. 

Pansy turned a tomato red, spinning around and darting off, at least as fast as she was able considering her footwear. 

Y/N turned and left as well, but not before she noticed a pair of steel-grey eyes staring curiously at her. 

♥♥♥♥

As the days grew longer, Y/N became aware of Pansy’s wrath. The brunette would show up out of nowhere and mess with her by casting little spells to cause embarrassing wardrobe malfunctions or ruin her hair day and even trying to trip her herself. 

Y/N, on the other hand, had other things to be concerned with. 

One day in Charms class, Y/N found herself staring at a certain boy across the room as he lazily practiced Aquamenti.

His pale, slender fingers loosely gripped his wand while his cheek rested on his other hand, tilting his head slightly to the side. There was a peculiar way in which he scrunched his nose as he cast the spell over and over again, each time performing it perfectly. 

Y/N allowed herself to gaze at him for as long as it took for him to fully fill the goblet in front of him with water from the repeated Aquamenti charm, and when Malfoy finally lifted his head up from his hand and glanced over in her direction, she snapped back to attention, pretending to be intently practicing the spell herself.

Gulping, Y/N tried to fight back the blush that rose on her cheeks as she felt the boy’s eyes drag over her. Was he looking at her? She couldn’t say for sure, she was trying so hard to pretend like she hadn’t just been caught staring that she couldn’t naturally look up to see where Malfoy was looking, not now. 

She froze in her chair as she noticed the blonde get up from his chair and make his way over in her general direction.

No, no, no, there was no way, you’re just overanalyzing, there’s no reason why he’d come over here. 

Turning her head, she pretended to rummage through her satchel to pull out a quill for no real reason.

“Is there something in my teeth? Or do you just have a problem with my wand work?”

Y/N jolted, snapping her head back up to see Malfoy standing before her, calmly staring down at her. He was, impressively, much taller than she was. 

This is no time to be thinking of that.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Y/N rolled her quill in between her fingers under the table in an attempt to her hide her nervousness.

“Oh? So why were you staring at me?” Malfoy adopted a rather amused face as Y/N was taken aback from his forwardness.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she retorted, setting her jaw and placing a hand on her hip. 

Malfoy’s lip quirked as he looked her up and down, apparently thinking about what he was going to say next. 

“Whatever you say, Y/N.” 

With that, Malfoy stalked back to his rightful desk, leaving Y/N shocked at the fact that he called her something other than Granger.

♥♥♥♥

It had taken Y/N a while, but when all she could think about was how soft Draco’s hair would feel if she ran her fingers through it, she had to admit that she had begun to nurture a crush on the intolerable pureblood. 

She didn’t know what started it, but she had a hunch that it had to do with his actions that day on the courtyard where he saved that bird, whispering those gentle phrases to it when he thought she couldn’t hear. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was referring to her by her first name now, and the way that it rolled off his tongue was so enticing--so pristine that it made her feel lucky.

She knew it wasn’t right. It was immoral to fall for the boy who had made her sister’s life hell for the better part of 5 years. She knew better than her inner instincts to save the “bad” boy. She knew that Draco was very popular with girls and that if she wanted him, she’d have to get in the back of a very impressive line of girls with more money and better families. 

But a stubborn part of her prodded these doubts away, reminding her of how many times she thought she had seen Draco staring at her out of the corner of her eye, how many times he “accidentally” brushed past her in the hallway. Granted, all of the incidents could’ve been sheer luck and, besides, she was far too shy to talk to him anyways.

So, as any rational 15 year old girl would do, she decided that there was no harm in pursuing him in her imagination. The deal was simple--she wouldn’t make a single move on him in real life, but her daydreams were fair game.

And so, it began. Y/N spent those few precious moments before she drifted off into sleep indulging in her most shameful desires. She imagined what it would feel like to run her fingers through the Slytherin Prince’s hair, to softly trace the outlines of his cheekbones. She wondered if his hands would be cool or warm to the touch, whether or not the icy paleness of his skin was any indicator to either of the options. She imagined that his skin would be soft from the expensive wizard soaps he’d use religiously. She imagined how he’d take his tea--strong with no sugar. 

Her feelings began to collide with reality whenever she ran into Draco in classes, He seemed more interested in tormenting the Golden Trio than he was in the earlier part of the year, forcing Y/N to acknowledge the uglier side of the boy whose lovely eyes she dreamed of at night. However, to her surprise, he never once uttered the word “mudblood” in her presence. In fact, she couldn’t even pinpoint the last time he had said it. 

His taunts became less about her sister’s blood inferiority, morphing into rather clever, witty, and biting remarks about the trio’s irritating amount of self-importance and righteousness. 

As much as Y/N hated to admit it, she agreed with some of it. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were all lovely people, but she often felt left out. Since Hermione had met them first, they grew closer to each other than they did to Y/N. They were plenty civil to her, but not as interested in actually being her real friend.

Not that she didn’t mind too much. She already got enough attention being vaguely connected to Harry. She didn’t know how she could handle being a target for all the anti-Potter propaganda and was much more content being as off the map and incognito as possible. 

But at the same time, it was a little sad whenever she saw the trio gain all the glory. They’d sneak into the common room late at night every once in a while, giddily whispering about some secret mission they were on that Hermione refused to tell her twin. 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she would always say. “It’s just that if you were to slip anything to the wrong type, we’d be in big trouble.”

So in other words, Hermione just didn’t trust her to stay quiet. 

♥♥♥♥

Y/N laid on her back, staring up at her dorm ceiling and wishing for sleep to take her away. She’d accidentally blown up at ‘Mione when her sister had made a rather condescending remark regarding her potion brewing skills by telling Ron to not copy Y/N’s movements because “there’s no telling if she’s even remotely following the directions”. 

Y/N had snapped and told her sister off, calling her an insecure prick that only felt smart when she was putting herself above others.

“You know,” Y/N had told her, “people who are actually wise don’t feel the need to boast about it.”

Hermione had turned beet red, huffing and putting her back to her sister. Not a single member of the Golden Trio attempted to talk to Y/N after that, not even during meals. 

The true weight of her mistake was now heavy on her chest as she came to the realization that some of the most well known and well liked kids in her house were no longer speaking to her and that this was causing a good portion of her other friends to regard her with caution. She had eaten in silence that evening, studied in solitude, and sat up in her bed alone instead of joining the congregation in the common room. 

Now, not even her imaginary Draco would concern himself with her as she lay in the dark.

You git she thought. I created you, and this is how you repay me?

She’d been in her dorm for over three hours now. Sleep absolutely refused to pull her away, restlessness instead welcoming her with its open yet uncomfortable arms. Her sheets were far too warm for a spring evening and she had turned her pillow over to the cold side so many times that there was no cold side left to speak of.

Finally, with nowhere else to go, she decided to just get out of bed and take a walk. The brisk air would do her nothing but good, and if she was caught by a member of the inquisitorial squad, then at least she’d have some human contact to speak of for the day. 

♥♥♥♥

Y/N found herself at the top of the Astronomy Tower, absentmindedly looking for constellations and failing miserably. She’d nearly failed any question on an exam pertaining to astrological features. 

There was something relaxing and careless about the soft breeze licking at her face. It reminded her that nature didn’t care about her shortcomings or her sharp tongue. She was alive and breathing, and that’s all it took for the universe to allow her to see a beautiful night sky full of stars.

“I never thought of you as someone who breaks curfew.”

The familiar, snooty tone of Draco Malfoy’s voice broke the comforting silence. 

“Aahh!” Y/N yelped, jumping and grabbing onto the railing to prevent her from falling to her death. “Don’t sneak up on me anymore! I could’ve died!”

Draco let out a dark chuckle, propping his own arm on the railing and looking her up and down.

“Well, rest assured,” he told her. “I’m not the one with the murder plot. That’s Pansy. Watch your goblet in the dining hall, will you?”

Y/N couldn’t decipher if he was telling the truth or not, but looking him up and down, she observed that there wasn’t a trace of malice in his expression.

“Are you telling me the truth?” she asked, feeling her defensiveness drain out of her tone.

“Believe it or not, yeah,” Draco drawled, shifting his position so his elbow was supporting his body weight on the railing and his chin was being propped up by his hand in a very similar fashion to that one time in Charms. Now his height was a little closer to Y/N’s, and she could look him in the eyes without turning her chin up too far. “She won’t shut up about how she’s learned how to brew this potion that’ll make all your hair fall out or something. So just...I don’t know, watch out.”

“Aren’t you gonna take me to Umbridge?” Y/N asked, forgetting what he was telling her once she saw the moonlight reflecting off of his inquisitorial squad badge.

“Nah, I’m not in the mood to see that hag tonight.”

A laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. 

“Oh. Thank you.”

The words felt foreign to Y/N. Things had really taken a turn for the worst--she had spent the past two months relentlessly daydreaming of the boy who bullied her twin, and now she was thanking him. 

Silence hung between the two, and to make things a little less awkward, Y/N turned her body away from him to look up at the sky. 

“Kill any Kricowls recently?” Y/N nearly jumped again when she felt a finger lightly poke her arm.

“Oh....no, I haven’t been feeding any birds peanuts anymore,” she confessed, turning again to meet the boy’s eyes. “I’m starting to realize how much I don’t actually know about the world.”

Draco regarded her curiously for a few moments.

“You’re nothing like your sister, you know,” he finally told her. 

“What do you mean?” Y/N couldn’t decide if this was a compliment or a thinly veiled slight.

“I mean, you accept the fact that there are things that you may not know,” he began. “I’ll be completely honest--I don’t tease Grang--your sister because of her blood type. That played a role when I was a little younger, but now it’s more because she’s an insufferable know it all that’s all holier-than-thou and probably wouldn’t have even let me get close to that Kricowl.”

“I can’t stand her sometimes,” Y/N whispered, looking down at the floor so she wouldn’t have to meet Draco’s piercing eyes. “I know it’s awful because I support the political cause that they support but they’re so...exclusive. I make one mistake and I’m out. There’s no room for accidents when you’re not in the trio.”

From her vantage point, she could see Draco nervously rolling his wand around in his free hand. 

“They aren’t very respectful to you,” he said after a few painful seconds of silence. 

“Well, it’s not like you’re a saint either.” Y/N dared to glance up at him to see a glimmer of hurt flash across his face.

“I know.” He shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry.” 

Y/N, stunned, jerked her head back up.

“You’re what?”

“Merlin, I didn’t think it was that monumental,” Draco mumbled. “I said, I’m sorry. Please forgive me for whatever nasty things I’ve said to you in the past. I’ve been trying to read more about why pureblood prejudice is the way it is, and I learned that.....er...”

Y/N noticed that he was struggling to get out what he was saying.

“You can’t tell anyone this, not right now at least, alright?” Draco nervously stuck his hand out. 

“Sure I won’t.” Y/N took his hand and shook it, noticing how she was right--his hand was soft and supple, warm enough to be pleasant but not enough to be sweaty. 

“Well I did some more research, and I learned that my family actually has some muggle blood in it...like, there’s a lot of half-bloods that married muggles and branched out, but they were still Malfoys at birth.”

Y/N gaped at him.

“And I don’t really enjoy hypocrisy, so I’ve...er...been kind of trying to reconstruct my political views.” 

“Good for you.” 

Y/N sat there for a little bit, grappling with all the information he’d just told her.

“Pinch me.” Her voice rang out before she could stop it.

“What?” Draco stared at her in wide-eyed confusion.

“It’s a muggle thing,” she told him. “Pinch me to prove I’m not dreaming. A Malfoy just told me that he wants to get over his blood prejudice, so yeah, forgive me if I’m a little surprised.”

“So you think you’re dreaming about me, huh?” A smirk appeared on his face.

“No, you...ugh! That’s not what it means at all!” She rolled her eyes to hide the fact that her cheeks were growing redder by the second.

“Well, you can’t blame me for being curious,” he said to her, his tone noticeably lower. Draco took his hand off the railing, rising up to his original height before stepping nearer to her. He was much closer than he should’ve been for a simple conversation. “You think I haven’t noticed how much you watch me?”

“I have no clue as to what you’re referring to.” She fought to keep her tone steady as he inched even closer. 

“Oh, I think you do.” He paused after ducking his head down to be eye level with her. “See, you’re blushing.”

“It’s dark out,” she said lamely. There was no way that this was real. She had to be dreaming.

“And? Still doesn’t change the fact that your cheeks are significantly darker than the rest of your face.”

“What are you trying to do?” Y/N surrendered, leaving his statement out to hang in the air unanswered.

“This.” 

He suddenly darted forward, his hands curling around her sides and his lips aiming for hers. 

“Stop!”

Y/N pushed back at his chest, holding her head back out of reach and glaring at him. 

His face looked immeasurably pained as he retracted his hands, putting them back in their pocket.

“I thought you wanted...”

“Maybe I do,” she told him, taking a step back. “But not right now. You told me that I had inferior breeding less than 6 months ago. I need some time. Please.”

Draco opened and closed his mouth a couple times, clearly not expecting this reaction. 

“I know what this is, Draco,” she told him, softer this time. “I know you’re trying to ease your guilty conscience by doing,” she motioned to the space between the two of them, “this. I’m not interested in that right now, understand? I haven’t forgiven you yet for all of those things you’ve done to my sister.”

He dipped his head down, clearly ashamed to have been caught in the act.

“I really don’t think that that’s it, though,” he said after drawing in a shaky breath. “I’ve always been...interested, but I could never allow myself to act on it, but now that I feel as though my beliefs are evolving...”

“That’s good, Draco, that really is,” Y/N soothed, stepping back towards him. “But I still need time. And so do you, to make sure you’re not fabricating all of this to hide your guilt.”

“That’s not at al--nevermind. You’re right.”

Y/N was struck with the thought that this was the first time she’d heard the words “you’re right” come out of Draco’s mouth in a situation where he wasn’t mocking someone or being sarcastic. 

“Can I take you to Hogsmeade, at least? This Saturday?” He swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I have a better idea. What can Kricowls be fed?”

final a/n: feel free to berate me on how ooc this draco is... i couldn’t possibly bear to write some kind of kiss or any real physical intimacy in the end because i don’t think that draco would change that quickly and i definitely don’t think he’d have this level of an existential crisis regarding his blood purity before his task in 6th year. for this reason, i don’t think i’ll be continuing this fic as it’s already long enough and i don’t fancy writing more ooc draco, as cute as the request was. so if you requsted this....please don’t feel bad! i’m sorry if i didn’t give you what you wanted. i might rewrite this one a little later when i have more time and when i can do another series because i think if i were to rewrite this, i would make it much longer and give draco 2x as much time to grow up and redeem himself. ok, that’s all, thank you for reading!

[fangirl-imagines]

Say It Again//Barry Berkman

A/N: Done in collaboration with @starting-now, inspired by Bill Hader’s character in Forgetting Sarah Marshall, where he is endlessly patient with his step brother then blows up at him for insulting his wife. The crazy talented @starting-now has done a similar imagine with Barry defending the reader over on their blog as well that you should all check out. 

You had known Gene for a long time and had been his assistant for almost just as long. He taught the acting classes and was in charge of the school while as his assistant, you managed the business side of things for him, making sure that the checks went out for rent and utilities, handled signing up new students, collecting student fees, even helped him run classes and acted as a stage manager of sorts for him.

Needless to say, you had put up with a lot from Gene Cousineau over the years. He was your boss and your friend but he was also one of the worst assholes you had ever met. And today in particular he was really living up to that title.

You knew he was supposed to hear back about an audition today and judging from his attitude today, it hadn’t gone well. He had already made Sally cry once this morning during rehearsals for a class play coming up and you could tell Jacob seemed close to tears when Gene was done with him. You shook your head, sipping your coffee and offering Jacob a reassuring smile as he left the stage. He didn’t return it though, frowning deeply at you as he rushed into the wings. You bit the inside of you lip and looked over at Gene who was sitting coldly and calmly next to you. 

“Do you need a break Gene?”

“No, what I need are better actors in my class. Because none of these people will cut it.” He whispered harshly, turning back in his seat to face the stage. “Come on, next scene. Barry and Sally, you’re up! And Sally, try to make me believe you for once!”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him and sat back in your seat. A small grin made its way onto your face almost involuntarily at the sight of Barry and Sally on the stage though. Despite her earlier break down Sally seemed calmer now, though she was still struggling with projecting her lines even though she was hitting her marks like a champ. You smiled proudly at her performance, letting your eyes slide over her to Barry and his performance. He stuttered slightly, his nervousness obvious as he keeps looking down at the script in his hands while he speaks.

He’s almost more reading aloud than acting at times but the longer the scene goes on the more relaxed he becomes, causing you to smile. You know how hard Barry’s been working at his acting, wanting to be the best actor he can be. You’d even run lines for this very scene with him last night. You knew he could be a good actor given enough time and practice and the thought makes something warm and proud grow inside your chest.

“Okay, stop, both of you.” 

Your smile drops at Gene’s sudden exclamation in a bord tone. Looking over you could see the emotionless expression on your boss’ face and knew that he had not seen the same improvements and signs of promise in the two actors as you had. Gene stood slowly from his seat, walking out into the middle aisle of the theater so that everyone's eyes were on him.

“Barry, Sally, were you trying to make me sick?”

Barry blinked a few times while Sally’s face dissolved into one of crushing disappointment. This was her second time being reprimanded by Gene today. Sally and Barry both looked at each other and shook their heads.

“No.”

“No, of course not.”

“No? Well that’s to bad. Because if you had been trying then I would have told you, you actually did a good job for once. But since you weren’t trying then you both really are just that terrible.” 

“Gene!” You stood up from your seat so quickly you almost dropped your coffee on yourself. The back of your neck felt hot as you spoke in the calmest voice you could manage while all eyes turned on you. “Can I speak to you a minute? In your office?”

You left no room for argument and raised your brows challengingly  at Gene when he looked at you funnily. He sighed dramatically and shook his head. “Alright everybody, take five.” 

Barry shook his head at you in confusion but you simply turned on your heels and stormed out of the theater, not stopping until you were in the main office. Gene followed you quietly, shutting the door behind him. You turned and shook your head disappointed.

“What the hell was that?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. It’s like they are trying to ruin this play. You know it’s only two weeks away?”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why they’ve all be practicing every chance they get. I know they’re not perfect-”

“You got that right.”

“But they’re trying! Maybe you should cut them some slack for once.”

Gene looked at you like you had just told him the sky was orange. He scoffed at you. “I’m sorry, are you running this studio?”

You opened your mouth, hands moving to your hips but he didn’t let you speak. “Oh wait, you’re not. I am. And you’re what again?”

You sighed, pursing your lips before answering, “Your assistant.”

“Exactly. I run the studio, I teach the classes and you’re my assistant.” He started to turn to walk out of the room before turning back around to look at you. “I know Barry is your boyfriend or something but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s the worst actor in the class. Just because you’re screwing him doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on him in there.”

You paused, looking up at Gene suddenly. Your eyes were wide, your teeth clicked when you clenched your jaw. You stared at Gene, crossing your arms across your chest.

“You really want to have this conversation with me Gene? Do you really want to have this conversation right now?”

There was a hard edge to your voice that Gene wasn’t use to hearing. It took him by surprise so he nodded. That was all you needed.

“He is one of the most dedicated actors in your class and I love him! Screw you Gene, he gives everything to this class, all your students do, and you treat them like shit just because you can!”

You took a deep breath as Gene stared at you wide eyed.

“Yeah, he’s going to be fantastic actor one day and it’s got nothing to do with you! He already can learn all his lines, hit all his marks, and understand his characters, give him time and he’ll be the best in this class! You want to be a dick just because you failed an audition Gene?! Well maybe you could learn a little something in persistence from your students then. You tear them down and they get right back up their on that stage. You may be my boss but you’re a dick! You think you can run this place without me? Really?! I do everything for you except yell at your fucking students. Do you really think you could run this place without me? You narcissistic prick. Talk about Barry like that to me again and you’ll have to find out.”

You sighed, all the anger and frustration draining from your body with the end of your speech. Your face still felt hot and flushed, Gene was staring at you dumb struck. You shook your head.

“You’ve just got to get your shit together Gene. I know its rough out there for everyone. Acting jobs are hard enough to come by for a younger actor but that doesn’t mean you get to come in here and tear good actors down because of it.”

Gene nodded, still staring at you wide eyed. You cleared your throat hesitantly, “Well, I’m gonna get back out there.”

He nodded again, ��Okay.”

You nodded and brushed by him out of the room. You closed the door behind you softly, turning to come face to face with Barry.

“Oh! Geeze, Barry. You scared me.”

“Sorry, sorry. I heard screaming, are you okay?” 

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Gene and I were just-, How much of that did you hear anyway?”

He said nothing for a second before a shy smile breaks out on his face, “You really think I’m going to be a fantastic actor?”

You shook your head, wishing he hadn’t heard all of that. “You know it’s rude to eavesdrop.”

You sighed at the down turned expression on his face and his small, shrug.

"You're fantastic already Barry. Just a little rough around the edges is all." You blushed, looking anywhere but at him. "But everyone needs practice. Come on, everyone's waiting."

You brushed by him, still coming down from the anger you'd felt earlier and embarrassed that anyone else had heard you that way. You were stopped by Barry's voice however when he caught up next you in only a few steps.

"Hey, thank you." His serious tone caught you off guard. "No ones ever really stood up for me like that before."

You took a deep breath, wondering about what happened to this man in his past but then smiled like the two of you were now in on some secret. Which you kind of where if you counted him overhearing you yell at Mr. Cousinean in his office that one day about how he treats his students a secret. Reaching up on your toes you kissed Barry gently. 

"I've got your back Barry Block."

You winked for good measure before slipping back into the theater.

[thebickedwitchoftherest]

All is Found || Cece, Otto & Simon (Ft. Winn)

TIMING: Last Tuesday (Midday 5/26)

LOCATION: Otto’s Residence

PARTIES: @gravityfissure​, @inconvenientsimonstrocity​, @thebickedwitchoftherest​ (Ft. @packsbeforesnacks​)

SUMMARY: Otto enlists the help of Cece to help track down Winn. Simon also joins the party to lend a claw and proceeds to be very confused. They form the Blood Buds.

Following the message and response from Ariana and Cece Otto had spent the better part of the afternoon running errands; gathering items and components necessary for casting the myriad of spells to try and decipher a location on where Winn might’ve gone. Something gave him the sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t be easy, but a contract was a contract and he’d follow through to see it done. With the furniture shunted to each side of the room it left the expanse of wooden floors exposed. A blank canvas for Cece and himself to work from. By the time the knock came from the door, he was already three-quarters through the process of drawing the necessary casting circles and runes inscriptions into each sublayer of the circle and their own subsections. He set the chalk down, getting up and going over to the door unlatching it and tugging it open. “Good timing,” he said as he stepped back waving the two one “I’m almost done with the sigils.” He didn’t recognise the man with Cece, but figured he must be a wolf and his next words were directed to him, direct and to the point “you have the focus and the hair?”

The last few days had been a whirlwind for emotions and other things for Simon but despite all the nothing he was turning into problems and all the damage control he felt like he was running to keep the other wolves, notably the younger ones, from flipping out and making irrational decisions, he struggled not to drop everything he was doing the moment he received that text from Ariana regarding… well, he wasn’t sure but she gave him instructions and a location so he got to work. He headed to Winn’s house and after spending at least an hour sniffing about both literally and figuratively in Winn’s wolf-smelling, dog-dander-covered house, having to pause frequently to get himself under control but feeling the ability to do so since he was alone, he managed to recover some scraps of the man’s hair in a well-used brush. Finding something ‘important’ took a little longer if only because Winn didn’t HAVE that many knick-knacks. He was able to glean through his… investigative abilities that Winn had a penchant for hockey and at the end of this specific trail, he was deciding between the smashed phone and what seemed to be the part of the hockey stick that you hit the puck with, whatever that was called… he was never into sports. Phone… Hockey bit? He decided on the latter and hurried off. Sincerely hoping that this Otto didn’t have a dog as he drove to the location Ariana had given him, he wondered what exactly was happening. What all would a tracking spell DO? Would this work? What if he got the wrong items? What if… Winn didn’t WANT to be found? That thought ran through his head several times the past couple days, which he figured was part of why he was so even-tempered about this whole thing. He saw Cece’s car and knowing she was going to be there quelled some of Simon’s apprehension and he approached the door to find Cece already there and knocking where he was content to linger just behind her, waiting for her to see him. The door was answered and the man he assumed was Otto immediately brought them into the conversation about sigils and… focus? Hair-- oh wait he had that. He didn’t respond with words but timidly held out the piece of the stick and the hair, each in one hand. He didn’t know what was going on but he was already intimidated.

There was a lot to unpack today. That Winn had run off. That Winn was a werewolf. Speaking of, Cece giggled to herself. Unpack. Pack. She killed herself. She stood behind Otto’s door, laughing at her own inner dialogue as she knocked on it, waiting for him to answer. She realized a moment too late that someone had been hovering behind her and turned to find Simon standing just feet away from her silently, “Fuck me!” she yelled out instinctively, covering her heart and whistling through the surprised gasps of breath, “Simon. When did you get here and why would you do that?” But then Otto answered the door, and the two were heading inside. 

“Ooh, you set up mood lighting and art for every person you invite over to your place or are Simon and I just special?” Cece winked, dropping her own bag onto a nearby couch and beginning to unfold the large pieces of paper she had brought with us. “I brought some maps with me. If he skipped town, we should be able to use this to try to pinpoint a general area where he is. A city or location maybe.” Cece knew if she was skipping town she wouldn’t stick around Maine. She would be across the country by now. “What brings you here Simon? Just dropping off the wig? You helping out with the spell?”

As with most things in life, there was a degree of uncertainty in everything that may or may not come to pass. Winn may very well have taken steps to shield himself from being found by magical means, but something about the rush in which he’d left – by the information he’d gleaned from the wolves involved, made Otto suspect he likely hadn’t. But dwelling on hypotheticals would hardly do anyone any measure of good. Magic and uncertainty were not two things you ever wished to mix unless you seriously wanted to do the dance between major bodily and mental harm. So, such thoughts were compartmentalised and set aside for further analysis later.

He took in the mini-scene outside his door with a single look, his brown eyes flickering between Cece and Simon he presumed; They hadn’t met, but it was easy enough to figure considering he was here at the specified time. He also noted how the latter looked downright set to bolt at the first sign of something going awry, smart really though it didn’t help the fact he looked like a kicked dog with its tail between its legs. “Strong and silent type, huh? Or well…” Otto’s eyes flicked up and down again in a gauging look, though his smile turned a little coy regardless, “silent type… I can work with that” he quipped holding out a bowl into which the items were deposited before rapidly being retracted.

He spun fluidly on his heel, a tornado of graceful yet chaotic movement retreating back into the apartment to set the bowl with the other ingredients set out on the table though Cece’s remark made him chuckle. “Oh you should know the mood lighting is only for special occasions darling. All about the theatrics” The mention of a map made him nod, rubbing his hands together “nice idea, and we should hopefully be able to use the shard as a focus for a scry.”

The thought of being called sarcastically ‘special’ by Cece didn’t sit with Simon as well as Otto’s remark about being the ‘silent’ type; this guy named Otto was… he wasn’t sure if ‘forward’ was the right word but he decidedly carried an air about him, confident and showy. With a couple questions he was asked but not feeling as though it was the appropriate time to answer floating in his head and a distinct feeling that maybe he should leave, Simon relegated himself to ‘lost dog’ and followed Cece around for a moment before pausing near the couch where she set her stuff. Talk of scrying, shards, maps… he supposed the discussion wasn’t entirely unusual but he had to admit that with all things, he was out of his league with these strong personalities - which was fine, but… “Am I in anyone’s way?” He found himself asking quietly, not sure where to look at Cece or Otto so his gaze flickered between them before settling for the floor. He wanted to mention that he’d liked to have stayed because he was just as invested in finding out Winn’s whereabouts than anyone else though if you asked ‘why’, his explanation probably would’ve amounted to something stupid and foolish like… well, the details weren’t important. 

The spell shouldn’t be too hard, with both Otto and Cece working their magic on it. The farther away Winn was, the harder the spell would be to pinpoint. Further distance meant a broader view. It would be harder to get an exact location on him. Of course, there were ways to get the answer they were looking for, but it may take a bit more work. “What’s your game plan? Tracking magic isn’t an exact science. There’s different ways to go about it.” Cece paced back and forth, considering their options before snapping her fingers and point between the two, “Blood magic! That’s our best bet. Blood magic? Blood magic?” Cece repeated, asking both of them with a grin. It was perfect. Whether Otto was keen on the connection or not, werewolf blood to help track a werewolf could only help strengthen the spell. Cece wasn’t about to out Simon, but using supernatural blood to help a ritual always helped regardless. “Simon, I found a use for you. We’re all becoming blood sisters tonight!”

“Nope, actually, provide a rather nice view,” Otto chimed cheekily in response to Simon but his focus was split between the pair especially as Cece paced, mulling over potential options for what they could do. While this happened, Otto returned to the circle to finish inscribing the necessary runes for later. “I figured we could track using the maps, and then narrow it down with a scry” he gestured to the patterns of intertwining circles and triangles that marked his floor. But the snapping of Cece’s fingers and her exclamation caused his brows to tick up a little, “ohh arcane and taboo? Ce, you know just how to tempt me.” Granted it wasn’t his strongest form of magic, but given what they were attempting it made sense and at the addition of using Simon’s blood as well to fortify their magic? 

“Even better! Simon, you don’t mind being blood buds do you?” Of course, he could say no but it would make their work a lot harder and Otto was already moving before he got an actual answer. “Wonderful, let me just--” he clapped his hands and shot across the room to a bookshelf from which he haphazardly pulled several dull and apparently uninspiring modern-looking cookbooks. Each individually glamoured to conceal a grimoire’s contents within. “I’m sure I have a spell like that somewhere… Let me--” he rifled through pages of one, tossed it onto the counter with a scoff before he was leafing through the second “ah gotcha! What about this? Done right it’ll cause the blood to move over the map and mark his location?”

There was an ever-so-slight furrow of Simon’s brow; so he was a flirt, if only a superficial one. Had he-- well no, he supposed he hadn’t ever been flirted with before, or rather no one had ever commented on his appearance being ‘nice’ with the exception of Ariana and she didn’t count. He shook that admittedly-distracting comment from his head at the repeated mention of blood magic, which made him straighten up slightly. “Come again?” He asked rather dumbly, quirking an eyebrow as his gaze moved up from the floor and shifted between Otto and Cece. Blood buds? Blood SISTERS? What kind of magic-- ARCANE AND TABOO? Was-- were they-- His hand subconsciously reached up to scratch at the scars on his shoulder, hidden beneath the layers of clothing as he felt himself getting nervous, a sentiment he had the feeling was only being expressed by himself. He hadn’t heard about blood magic being used so casually. Then again, he hadn’t ever heard of ANY magic being used so casually. Were they breaking the law? What did ‘taboo’ mean in this context? Why did they need HIS blood? Where would they pull it from? How much did they need? “S... sure,” He ended up saying, conflicting all his previous thoughts though he was still fidgeting.

“Don’t be a baby, It’s not like we’re about to slice your throat or something.” Cece waved Simon off. She had hung out with him enough by now. He seemed to go with the flow. Sure, a magical ritual using blood was a little different from grabbing a drink. But all things considered, it wasn’t all that crazier than getting attacked by mime clones. As far as craziness went, this was a solid six at best. “Just a few drops should do.” When Simon finally agreed, Cece clapped her hands together excitedly and found her spot on the floor. “With the three of us, this shouldn’t be too bad. Simon, you’re a newbie.” She turned to him, walking him through the steps as Otto finished setting up, “Spells use power. We feed that power with our own energy. Even though you may not know exactly what Otto and I are doing, we just need you to focus. Using your energy is going to help feed the spell and make it stronger.” She neglected to mention that being a werewolf inherently made the spell stronger as well. The heightened endurance and strength would help the power of the spell and the similar species would help tracking. It would piece itself together. “Otto and I will start the spell. Weird things may start happening. The candles may flicker or change colors, breeze may pick up, the sigils may glow. Shit like that. You just need to try to ignore that and focus on one thing. Winn. We have to focus on that stuff you brought us so we can home in on Winn.” It was a pretty barren rundown, but with the little time they had, it was the best that Simon was about to get. “Ready to get started?” 

It wasn’t hard to tell Simon was uncomfortable with the idea, unfortunately, it was a necessary addition for the likelihood of this speed to be increased. Spells were like that, they needed sacrifice. Otto fetched a small swiss army knife - useful for any modern day spellcaster taking a moment to use the fire from the hob to sterilise the small inch long blade. Cece did a good enough job giving Simon the crash course keynotes speech while Otto put the maps on the ground in the middle of the circle, he also lit several candles around specific points connecting their bases with an inch wide trail of sand. “Always, Ce, you go there” he pointed to an empty circle on the opposite side of the map large enough for a person to fit in sitting down he then pointed to a similarly sized circle to the right “Simon there please.” He waited for them to settle, putting out a few sprigs of incense in a silver bowl “Ce you can light the incense - at the same time Simon you’ll need to make a small cut - your finger should do, let the droplets fall on the map, after that stay in the circle. No matter what happens,” Unlike the effervescent personality from before Otto now seemed rather serious in his request.

He thought he might’ve been anticipating something more drastic the way he reacted but this wasn’t that much different than the magic Winston used to forge those invisible scissors. Simon, now aware of his job, took the explanation well and gave a small, decidedly more certain nod at Cece’s explanation. He took the knife from Otto and took his place over at his designated circle. Draw a little blood, make sure it falls on the map, stay in the circle, focus. Focus on Winn. That seemed easy enough seeing as how he couldn’t get the werewolf’s scent out of his nose - or rather, it wouldn’t leave. Once he was standing in the circle, he held the knife to his finger firmly, keeping his eyes on Cece to light the incense. Focus.

Time to get things rolling. Cece sat in the circle Otto had designated for her and eyed Simon as he followed Otto’s instructions, standing in his own circle with the knife in hand. It wasn’t ideal, making a newbie be an integral part of the spell. But it was the best bet they had to strengthen the spell. “Let’s track this bitch.” Cece smirked one last time before lighting the incense, queuing Simon to draw the blood and Otto to start the chanting. Things took off quickly from there. The candles around the room died out immediately, returning seconds later a brilliant blue color and casting the room in an almost eerie glow. Blood dripped from Simon’s hand and onto the map. Cece joined Otto’s chants, keeping one eye closed and the other peeping open to study the map. Wind picked up around the three, and Cece could see the drop of blood starting to slide across the paper. It left no trail, no smears to indicate that it had even shifted from its original position. The only way you would know is if you had been watching it. “Keep focusing” Cece broke from the chanting momentarily to remind Simon to keep his cool and stay in the circle. She rejoined, eye still glued to the drop of blood sliding further and further away from Maine and down the east coast. “When the blood sticks, that’s how we know we’re close.”

Magic existed in all things; simply an unperceived element that helped to stabilise the universe in its constant state of flux. Every elemental particle was tethered and affected by every other molecule in space by infinite indivisible threads. These were threads that could be manipulated if you knew just the right one to pluck on. As the scent of burning lavender filled his senses his eyes closed and he felt himself relax into the comforting familiarity of his connection with those tethers calling on them to guide. He didn’t look to the map, instead, keeping his focus on the infinite weave and the way just a few tethers seemed to glow a fraction brighter. Tempting and informative in their own way, and his mind reached out, searching to connect to a path he could not yet see but a path that traced across the map regardless in the form of a small circlet of crimson. The trail moved, and moved, its spread slowing to a crawl before coming to rest over Georgtown, WA. Stuck and seemingly not intent to budge. Feeling the warmth of his magic begin to fade, there was a familiar pang of desire to stay connected. But therein lay the danger of tapping into higher powers. It got addictive if you didn’t know how to utilise it in moderation. Opening his eyes, the candles shuddered back to a soft amber flame. “Georgtown mean anything to you or Winn?” Otto asked Simon after a moment, not knowing anything about the place himself.

And thus, it began. When Simon saw her light the incense, he did part of his job and made an incision - perhaps a little bigger and deeper than it needed to be - and he held his arm out for the blood, closing his eyes for a moment. Winn; tall guy, carried himself like a true jock and spoke like one, too. His face, his musculature, how he sounded when he was overwhelmed with everything, how he held his beer bottle, what he smelled like, what sort of person he was to make all of this happen in the first place. His breathing was as regulated as it could’ve been. He felt something tugging at him, perhaps subconsciously but he kept himself planted into place, holding steady against his surroundings. He didn’t open his own eyes or entertain any other thoughts until he heard Otto say the name of a place and he exhaled softly, glancing over to the magician. “It doesn’t mean anything to me,” He admitted first, trying to think of what that COULD’VE meant. He really wasn’t the right person for this; he and Winn knew each other tangentially at best and Simon’s tendency to unintentionally pry hadn’t reached Winn yet. “It might have something to do with Winn’s past, though,” He added, remembering that Winn had mentioned small bits of his history at the meeting.

Georgetown. It wasn’t a place that Cece had personally been familiar with. She had traveled that way for a short amount of time. A few weeks or so, but the stay hadn’t been long enough that she remembered much of it. “Well it certainly narrowed it down.” Cece offered, a piece of positive news during the man’s disappearance. For a moment, Cece considered whether or not she should be helping track him down like that. She certainly wouldn’t have liked the same thing being done to her, especially if her old coven was involved. Of course, running from the supernatural came with a list of musts. Learning how to throw off a tracking spell was one of them. The next time Winn wanted to leave without a trace, he may want to consider that. “Still, an entire neighbourhood doesn’t help us. Especially if he’s still moving.” She sat back, rubbing at her chin as she thought. “Not that I know the dude much, but he travelled all over the place back before coming to Maine. He probably has connections all over.” That didn’t help either, knowing that he could be going anywhere right now. “Okay, we need something else. A bit more specific. What you got Otto?”

Otto hadn’t even met this Winn guy, other than their brief conversations online. So he could neither interpret nor contribute much to the reasoning as to why Winn was there. “Yeah, I guess” he rubbed his chin in thought but ultimately, he wasn’t here to ask questions. Just do a job and collect some favours to bank for later. It never hurt having a few wolves owing you for things. Connections were everything in life. “It’s something though, at least we know he didn’t leg it and book a flight across the oceans. So… There’s that.” But the next question had him reaching for the other items that Simon had brought along. The hair in the bowl and the hockey stick. “I was thinking a scry, it might work but it also might not… but, the fact we’ve got a piece of the person we’re tracking,” he gestured to the hair “will boost our chances of success.” He looked between Simon and Cece, “the same thing goes. Keep Winn on your mind, and if the spell works you’ll feel a pulling sensation - like something is trying to rip you across the country… Don’t fight it, let it take you and we’ll get a glimpse of whatever he’s doing right now.” He didn’t mention the potential complications, like getting stuck in the scry and not being able to get back out without further assistance or the potential mental hazards it posed risk to. No need to get either of them overly concerned.

Aaaand it didn’t seem like they got anywhere. Simon was glad that he was there entertaining this waste of time instead of someone more brash like Ariana. He remained in his designated circle, subconsciously licking at the incision on his thumb as he ran the name “Georgetown” through his head on repeat and admittedly starting to zone out as he realized with frustration that he didn’t know much about Winn at all aside from how casually he seemed to treat being a wolf, his dog and that he’s really into hockey. He… would need to rectify this once Winn came back. He brought himself back to the conversation as Otto and Cece discussed further, expecting to be told that there wasn’t anything to do and to go home but then the topic shifted to scrying and he glanced between the two magic-users again. “Sorry, I was miles away,” He partially lied. “What are we doing, now?”

A locator spell was vague enough that it generally was used as foundations for other spells to build upon, the more information you had to work with and cover more bases the better chance a spell would be stable and less risky. It didn’t eliminate the entire possibility of things going very badly wrong, but it lowered the odds of that happening. “All good,” Otto said looking over to Simon “a scry is… Okay, so imagine if you dropped a single video camera wherever Winn is right now, then imagine we” he gestured to the collective “could hack that camera and see and hear through it. Right?” Otto paused to make sure Simon was following his keynotes version of what the spell was “A scry is a spell that essentially does that, gives us a one angle insight into whatever Winn is doing right now - it’s more accurate depending on what you use to focus in on whoever the target of the scry happens to be.” He pointed to the bowl of hair “this is some of the most accurate stuff we could use. That’s why we are. But I don’t know how long we’ll have… Scry spells are notoriously temperamental for how long they let you view… So we’re all going to have to keep our eyes open and look for any other indicator that might give us more information to narrow it down - a sign, shopfront, streetname - anything.”

The tracking spell had helped narrow down the search, but it hadn’t given them all the information they needed. But never fret, because Otto had another idea. A spell that Cece had never personally performed. She let out a low whistle, “A scry? Haven’t done one of those before. Guess you can teach an old dog some new tricks.” She shifted, swaying around as if she were dancing while still sitting on the floor. “The college is there. Keep an eye out for old buildings. They’re all named after the rich people that funded them.” She kept an eye on Simon. This all seemed new to him. She would need to check back in with him after, make sure they hadn’t scared him off. “Well you’re definitely in charge with this one Otto. Let’s figure out with this S.O.B is, yeah?”

Simon, back into the conversation, nodded as he listened to Otto carefully, inwardly thankful for using terms he was receptive to; Simon didn’t think himself a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination but magic was very foreign to him. Once Otto explained and Cece seemed to acknowledge that the scry would’ve been a good idea, albeit one that she’d never done before, he exhaled quietly and nodded. “Okay. You guys are the bosses; I’m just…” Here because no one else wants to bother. Here because everyone else is either mad or too busy with actual important things. No one seemed to even want to find him that badly anymore.“Here.” He completed his sentence. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Otto shot a wink at Cece, encouraged by her faith and his own belief that they had enough to at least get a bit more information out of today. “Just copy what I do,” he instructed her and once he had confirmation moved the map out of the circle leaving the silver chalice containing the locks of hair set before them. To this he added a measured dose of oil of sulphur and crushed charcoal, mixing the contents and once he was happy that they were combined lit the contents with a zippo. The oil caught light immediately, burning a bright sulphurous red “so glad I switched off the fire alarm,” he muttered, drawing his hands back. His palms pressed together in an almost prayer-like motion before parting fluidly so the tips of both index fingers and thumbs remained in contact formulating a circle, the center of which a violet like shimmer began to emanate. The threads of his magic making themselves known as he set about manipulating them to his will pulling and threading. The power felt bolstered, more powerful than if he had tried to attempt this by himself and he knew that was likely Cece’s own magic reinforcing the spell. With a look of concentration he spoke “ex quae vires sint. Da illis qui hic visus.” The magic from both spellcasters, sat in opposition, flared before extending to connect to the burning concoction. Otto felt the sudden gut-wrenching jolt akin to the sickening moment of inertial release at the peak of a roller-coaster; thrown over the edge into the exhilarating and disorientating drop. It was enough to force him to close his eyes, feeling his consciousness ripped from the loft and the rush of air as they were projected across the country towards wherever the spell thought to take them. 

“Don’t worry, dude. You’re contributing.” Cece reassured Simon, making sure he knew that he had a place in this little seance circle that Otto had gathered together. “Magic or not, extra bodies means more energy. That makes a spell stronger. And it prevents the two of us,” Cece explained, pointing between Otto and herself, “From crashing after a spell. So keep what you’ve been doing. You’re coming on this roller coaster with us.” With that, Cece focused her attention to Otto mirroring his movements and catching the moment that the spell began. It felt like a vacuum. It was barely noticeable, but Cece could almost tell that her own energy was helping feed into the spell. She eased it along, controlling the flow so that it felt balanced as she breathed and continued helping Otto work his magic. The fire flared higher, proof that Otto’s spell was working. And then, a sudden feeling of complete weightlessness was proof enough that they weren’t in the apartment any longer.

It started in static, almost, magic pushing back on the spell, trying to protect the location where the scry had found its target. 

But, slowly, the trio found themselves in an office. Its bookshelves were empty, boxes stacked in the corner. Save for two figures, no one would believe that this room had been used in ages, the only signs of a purpose: a desk and two chairs. Winn Woods, werewolf-on-the-lam, stood slowly, eyes wide, and stared at the other figure warily. Someone who was looking closely would see that Winn was caught in a state of partial transformation, claws out, form tense.

The other man was dressed plainly, jeans and a button-down, and his face was serious. He was Asian, his jawline near identical to Winn’s. But the trio did not have time to regard him fully. Spectral tails appeared behind the man, a bright light into the dim room. The three tails closest to the man’s body were near-solid, yellow, and burning bright, flickering like candlelight. 

Winn scrambled, holding one of the chairs in front of him like a shield against this man, jaw slack and brows tight with confusion. Another flash, as the tails wrapped around the man, a cocoon, a transformation…

And then, a jolt of magic leapt from the corner of the room, water dousing the flames of the spell, a cold splash of force in the trio’s faces as they were pushed back to White Crest, no closer to a satisfactory answer.

Simon decided then and there with certainty that he liked Cece’s energy and the effect it seemed to have on himself. Granted, both she and Otto, comments aside, seemed like perfectly enjoyable human beings outside a professional setting. He looked around at all the pieces on motion as the two magicians started to perform the other ritual and unlike last time, he did feel something inside, something almost as if someone were reaching into him and pulling out webs of… himself. It was an odd sensation. Then, without warning, he felt like was being yanked by that invisible bond that tethered Lydia and himself, completely internally and turning his stomach over. He also closed his eyes, biting down on the thumb that lingered around his mouth instinctively as he was hurled through the consciousness and they… found Winn. The scene happened, quick and flitting and altogether far too short before they were pushed back out and he gasped as though he himself was doused in icy water. He caught enough details of what happened though, brief as the visions were; a man, Winn’s wolfish features, what appeared to be a demon or something with a demonic presence attached. Surely not, right? Well, at least that confirmed that he wasn’t… dead? Simon already knew that. “What… was that?” He asked, scratching at his shoulder again.

The lurch of the scry was a sickening sensation, and one he wasn’t quite braced for as after they’d successfully broken through they… Were very promptly kicked out, flung back across the continent and back into Otto’s apartment. He came back to himself with a sharp inhale of air, a distorted sense of self and sudden wave of nausea that he had to raise a hand to his mouth to try and hold off. It took a few moments of focussing on his breathing and getting the room to right itself before he was confident he wasn’t about to spew. That would be embarrassing. He’d been a part of enough scrys to know the sensation was always a shitty one, and it never got better. 

“Fuck,” he growled, fists clenching in frustration as he was sorely tempted to knock the damn thing over. Good lot of use it had done. “If I had to guess… That was a Huxian… A kitsune if you will… The fox-tails would suggest so…” He rubbed his fingers along his lip in thought. He’d had several run ins with Kitsune in New York, all contracting him for work on behalf of their organisations. “The fuck’s he doing… And the place had to be warded… That’s the only way the spell could be rejected so quickly…  There wasn’t enough time to counterspell.” None of this made any sort of sense and it only served to mount his frustration. “I’m… at a loss for what else we can do…” It wasn’t like they could jump cross country and the latter spell had drained him enough that he felt a massive order of cheeseburgers and fries was on the menu later.

Well that was certainly… something. Cece was jolted back to Otto’s apartment, feeling as if she had just left her body for a short amount of time. Shorter than any of them seemed to expect. “We were cut off.” Cece exclaimed. Otto took over, explaining the man they had seen within that office and the suspected reason they were kicked out so quickly. It made sense, though it wasn’t ideal. They had been able to get through the protection, if only temporarily. Cece had a few theories. That Simon and Cece knew Winn personally. That Simon’s similar species strengthened the spell. The personal items that Simon had brought with him. Though the answer didn’t matter because regardless, it had only granted them temporary access.

But maybe that had been enough. “Maybe we don’t need to.” Cece pondered, finally pushing herself up from the circle she had been nested in on the floor. Her legs were weak, proof that the spell had taken a lot out of her. “Whoever that guy was, he was in some sort of office.” Cece needed to find the context clues. The room looked packed up, like the man was leaving. Or maybe unpacked, like he was just moving in. But regardless, a few things were apparent. It was filled with bookshelves and a window looking out into green. “It’s a reach, but it’s Georgetown.” The limited layout of the room didn’t provide any clear answers, but it could have been a professor’s office, “It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to assume that he’s a Professor at Georgetown.” She shrugged it off. At the end of the day, finding Winn hadn’t been her priority. Just helping out a friend. She still wasn’t sure how he got dragged into searching for Winn anyways, or if Winn had a good reason to leave. All she knew was that the spell had left her tired and hungry, “Who wants takeout?”

Simon reviewed the knowledge that had been given to him throughout this exchange - Georgetown, partial transformation, Huxian (kitsune?). Technically the questions the wolves had were answered, or at least some of them. Winn was alive, he was dealing with… something that he didn’t like, and he was in Georgetown. He exhaled as his eyes danced over the chalk lines on the flor before he gave a noncommittal shrug and he gave Cece a rather tired smile of his own. “Sorry to drag you guys into wolves’ business...” He did what he could, however nothing that was, as usual. He felt drained - three rituals in two weeks after a whole life of none, damage control for Winn’s poor decisions, the dog and work being a literal mess felt like he was spinning a lot of plates on spindles and more plates just kept getting added. He… didn’t want to talk about it. “Takeout sounds great.” He was done for today. Winn would come back and explain himself, he was almost certain of it. Right now, all he wanted to do was eat and not think about it.

[asgardianthot]

Flesh And Bones - Part 6

Soulmate AU

Series Masterlist

Words: 2129

A/N: I’m actually so excited to post the next few chapters? All of your comments are insanely, ubelievably nice, I appreciate you taking the time to say how much you’re enjoying the fic so so much. So I just can’t wait to give y’all what you want lol hope I can deliver

The melodic beep that announced opening of elevator doors was immediately followed by the thud of boots on the floor. Both Wanda and Bucky were walking rather fast, in direction to the parked quinjet. An alarm had set off all around the tower, informing the Avengers of an important mission that required speed and immediate action, so the pair had seen themselves forced to end a heart-to-heart conversation in order to work for a living.

Wanda had accompanied the soldier as he changed into fighting gear, mainly to make sure he wouldn’t bail on the team. She knew Bucky would do anything to avoid Sam at the moment, for that was his instinct, no matter how many times Sam stated that wasn’t what he wanted. So Maximoff had stood inside Bucky’s room while he complained and ranted and groaned, more focused on words than on sliding the black cargo pants up his legs.

As soon as the cool air of the heliport hit Bucky’s face, he stopped in his tracks.

“I can’t go.” He said loud enough to be heard.

The young woman turned to face him with an expression of utter disbelief.

“Bucky.” She let out, beginning to prepare a reprimand; they had just agreed that something like that was exactly what he wasn’t going to do, “What are you talking about?”

However, he looked a little frozen, and sounded like it too, considering he didn’t even respond to the question. It wasn’t necessary, though, for Wanda knew exactly what was going on, and therefore she walked back to him, less upset, to grab Bucky’s hand softly.

“You can’t just not go.” She reminded him in a much sweeter, but still stern tone, “We need you. This is your job. You can do this.”

The reassuring words helped Bucky swallow and nod. Yet, the knot in his stomach wasn’t going away.

“What if-?”

“What if you kiss on the quinjet?” Wanda interrupted him, causing him to give her a death glare; she simply rolled her eyes, “On the way to a mission.” She continued mocking him, shaking her head, “I doubt it.”

“Wanda-“

“You don’t even have to talk. Just do your job. Get out of the tower.”

The last push turned into a rather helpful observation, since Bucky didn’t actually go out much, especially the last few weeks; perhaps a good ole’ mission would be optimal.

“Come on, you can sit with me and hold my hand.” She went back to a joking and mildly patronizing tone.

The second the both of them took their seats next to each other, the last man walked inside the quinjet. With the wings-backpack and all, Sam made an appearance right before the doors shut. Bucky took in his image as he looked up from fastening his seat belt.

“All set.” Natasha announced from the driver’s seat.

There was a powerful staring contest going down between Bucky and Sam, which ultimately made Wanda extremely uncomfortable, whereas Steve pretended he didn’t even notice. It felt as if observing something they weren’t supposed to.

-

During the actual mission, though, the question of how uncomfortable it would be to fight alongside each other set place. As soon as they broke into that subterranean warehouse, the team was welcomed by shooting hostiles. It took their full concentration to take them out, but the only way in which they were outgunned was literally. Talent and stamina-wise, on the contrary, this could have just been a regular tuesday night.

Unfortunately, the easiness and triumph met an end in Sam’s case, as a sharp and painful feeling pressured his arm. He moaned out in pain, believing to have been shot, but as he glanced down, there was no sign of harm. In fact, it didn’t feel like a bullet had entered his skin, at all, but rather as if it was bounced off.

His mind went to the first explanation.

"Barnes, you okay?" he spoke through the earcomm.

Expecting to hear a lamenting response, he was surprised to receive a perfectly normal voice tone.

"Yeah, why?" Bucky answered nonchalantly.

Thus, he glanced back down at his arm. Along with reflecting on the fact it had felt like a bullet had bounced off his skin, as if his skin was made of unbreakable material, he also processed which arm hurt. It was his left arm. The metal arm.

He shouldn’t even be feeling it.

Before he could keep thinking about it, another shot of pain hit him. Another imaginary bullet.

"Agh!” he yelled and managed to reach his earpiece, “Stop, I can feel it, the arm, I feel it!"

There was a short pause before the exclamation made any sort of sense to Bucky.

"Your left arm?" he confirmed with confusion.

Sam snapped like the brunette had taken minutes to reply, "Yes, stop doing what you're doing!"

Nevertheless, the physical shock that came with trying to cope with this new information distracted Barnes, to the extent where he stopped being alert towards the hostiles. He had already stopped two bullets with his bionic arm, and the next one could come at any second, yet the realization that Sam might even sense the metallic limb in the slightest had him frozen, a big question mark all over his face.

The sudden distraction made it possible for a hostile to come charging at him, a fist fight imminent, and before he could foresee it, Barnes was falling over the rails of a stairway. That was when his body, once again, proceeded in the only way he had been taught: he reached out with the most powerful piece of armory he had, his left arm, grabbed a hold of the rail and held his entire weight on the rail, effectively and painfully avoiding a fall.

This third time, Sam wasn't capable of keeping his focus. The tear in his shoulder caused him to lose his flight, and so he went into protection mode, wrapping himself in his big metal wings, which eased his body when it collided on the concrete floor.

On his part, the brunette was safe on the ground, where he elbowed a man in the face in order to appropriate his shotgun. With a few last shots, the floor in which they stood was clear or hostiles, and the entrance to the building, clear.

"We're going in." Steve dictated through the communicators.

Sam groaned as he tried to collect himself from the ground.

"Coming." He managed to croak out.

Unfortunately, his efforts were met by a good ole' Captain Rogers scolding, "No, you and Bucky figure whatever you have to figure out." He said seriously.

"What?" Barnes pressed his fingers to his ears so to be heard, and convey his offense.

"You're distracted and distracting the team." Rogers shot back as he and the two women ran towards the building, "You're not helping. Stay back."

The remaining pair was left to their silence, one that lasted a few seconds. The bond wasn't their fault, but he was right about the fact that a team couldn't sustain itself with two members of it constantly avoiding each other. The bickering, they could stand, but the amount of tension and quiet coming from them both lately was damaging to entire operations.

Bucky reached where Sam was taking advantage of being ditched to catch his breath. The former spy offered him a hand, but Wilson declined by ignoring him and sitting up all by himself.

"I didn't know you could feel this arm." Bucky said in a tone that wasn't easy to decipher.

His face still contorted a little bit with the feeling of beaten muscles.

"Do you feel it?" he asked as if he was being personally attacked by the fact, and then watched as Barnes bit the inside of his cheek, "It's sentient. Like, that- that sentient." He was met by a shameful nod, "And you still use it as a shield? Are you insane? You didn't even complain."

Eventually, Bucky swallowed the guilt and just shrugged.

" 's how I was trained."

"But it hurts." Sam raised his voice, still in disbelief.

"What do you want me to say?" he replied in a way that they both knew an argument was coming their way, "I can treat it as something other than a weapon, but at the end of the day, when I'm being shot at, that's what it is. A weapon."

Instead of being distant, though, Bucky offered his hand again. This time, Sam took it and stood up on his feet with the man's help.

He let out a frustrated puff of air.

"See? This is the kind of shit I'm talking about." The Falcon shook his head and proceeded to elevate the tone of the conversation, "You give zero fucks about your well-being! And that means you give zero fucks about mine! Do I just gotta accept that you're a masochist?"

Bucky frowned with anger like a tantrum child, "I'm not!"

"You fight like one!"

"Well, it's all I know!" His voice roared through the entire warehouse and echoed as he unloaded all bottled up feelings in one sentence; It brought sepulchral silence between them, until he spoke through his frown, "It's how they trained me."

As a matter of fact, Bucky didn't remember what it felt like to not be like that. He couldn't remember his old self. He remembered the past Steve, his family, his relationships with others, among many other things that could fill up a personality, but he couldn't remember what it felt like to be Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, chippy sport. That wasn't coded into his system. The instinct of using his own body as a weapon was.

Consequentially, Sam felt like crap.

And he would have been open about it and apologized immediately if it hadn't been for the shooters. The click of guns made them snap back into the situation, and once again, Bucky was about to demonstrate that same instinct they were discussing, up close, by raising his arm to shield the bullets, but Sam turned his wings as a barrier and protected both of them. No need for Bucky to use his arm as a shield. Inside the little cocoon of metal wings, Barnes looked at Sam.

"I got ya." Sam panted, and by you, Barnes knew he meant us.

The veteran glanced at the gun in Bucky's hand, to which the latter was proactive enough to get it ready and fire at the incomers with incredible speed.

-

After that mission, Bucky wasn't really speaking to anyone. He had showed himself adamant even to a chat with Wanda. After all, during the altercation with Sam, he had been accused of fair things.

Luckily, it didn't stop Sam from trying. He knocked on Bucky's door the next day.

"Can I come in?" he spoke loudly from behind the wall.

"I'm busy," was heard from inside the room in a monotone.

Wilson simply nodded to himself, defeated. He turned around, fully intending to accept Bucky's isolation, but in a matter of seconds, he decided to push a little bit. He opened the door, only to find a pair of puffy eyes. Bucky's face was wet and partially swollen. He was crying.

He stared at the man standing in front of his door and thought about what he wished he had the strength to say out loud.

Hug me, you moron, come and hold me.

Yet he knew, unfortunately, that even if Sam could feel every bump and wound on his skin, he couldn't feel the ache in his chest. It didn't work that way.

So he sniffed and faked an embarrassed, amused face. A fake one.

"Told you I was busy." He joked.

Wilson swallowed hard and glanced down with guilt.

"Sorry. I'll come back later."

As he left and shut the door behind him, he sensed his own chest hurt. It didn't feel right to see Bucky like that.

On his part, Barnes crawled under his sheets and shut his eyes, wishing he could sleep forever.

When he woke up from his depression nap, there was a chair notoriously standing in front of his bed, where a box of donuts had been deposited. The brunette rubbed the sleep of his eyes before abandoning his bed to open the cardboard box, and finding a note inside of it:

"I'm sorry for yelling. You make me wanna yell sometimes, but it's not your fault. You're not a masochist, and this isn't unfair for me. It never was. I really don't want you to go. Take your time and when you're ready, come talk to me. In the meantime, the donuts will keep coming."

Bucky allowed a smile to take over his face before stuffing his face with the sugary treats.

[adrenaline-roulette]

Crazy little thing called love

Roger Taylor x Reader

Warnings: None! 

Preview: “Turn around! Get your arse back in that fitting room right this second!” She yells, waving her arms above her head wildly.

“Mary? What on Earth are you doing?” “Roger! The boys! They’re outside, they saw me and are coming in!” “Get rid of them! I don’t care what you have to do, but they cannot be in here!” You plead.

“Look Y/N, there’s another one!” Mary squeals excitedly as you walk along the busy street, you come to sudden halt as she stops moving, your linked arms preventing you from going any further without her. “Come on, lets take a look!” She urges, as she gently tugs you into the bridal store. As you enter, you feel like royalty, and know that you definitely do not belong in here. Pristine white dresses are displayed across the shop floor on mannequins in uncomfortable poses. Marble tiles line your way as you walk further inside, your jaw going slack as you look around. There’s a crystal chandelier hanging above you, its lights twinkling away merrily, unaware that no one in the history of the world would ever be able to afford a dress in this store.

“Mary, we shouldn’t be in here. We don’t belong!” You mutter, as you gaze down at yourself, your dusty combat boots nearly leaving scuff marks on the tiles.

“Oh come on, Roger just popped the question, you have to at least start looking for a dress!” Mary admonishes sharply, with a final tug at your arm to move you further into the store. She was stopped in front of the clothing racks, each garment in a bag to protect it from dust, and other foreign bodies. Ivory and cream fabrics were overloading your senses as she moves each dress to look at it.

“He asked me last week, we haven’t even spoken about it since, he’s been so busy with the record, I don’t think we’ll start planning it until the end of the month.” You shrug, following Mary’s lead and looking through the numerous dresses.

Mary rolls her eyes, huffing at you. “That isn’t the point Y/N. The point is, is that you are going to be Missus Roger Taylor at some point in the near future! And I’ll be damned if you don’t look a million dollars on your wedding day!” She declares, stamping her foot down to make her point as final. An older woman looks up from a few racks away, lifting an eyebrow at the noise Mary had been making.

“May I help you ladies?” She asks, her lips pursed as she saunters her way over to you both. You gulp, looking to the bottle blonde woman, wanting to simultaneously run from the store and also give her a swift kick to the knees. You knew you didn’t belong in here, but she didn’t have to make it so obvious with that look!

“Yes actually, I’m in the market for a wedding and maid of honour dress.” You smile sweetly, your perfect customer service voice coming in to play. Moving your hand to brush away a stray lock of hair, you make sure your engagement ring is clearly visible to the shop assistant, noticing her frown lift from her face somewhat. She still has a hard look about her, though it seems to be crumbling away slowly. Mary stifles a giggle from beside you, hiding it behind a sneeze.

“Of course, congratulations on your engagement! Was there any style of dress you were looking for in particular?” She asks, moving her hands in grand gestures towards the racks you and Mary had just been browsing through.

You frown for a moment, you hadn’t really thought about your dress very much. You know that Roger would find you stunning no matter what style you picked, though you also know that he would probably prefer you to wear jeans and one of his leather jackets. “Nothing too over the top, classic and simple, maybe with lace? I like off the shoulder sleeves…” You finally decide, an image of what your dress should be forming in your minds eye.

 “And nothing too frilly, or too puffy.” Mary chimes in, and you find yourself nodding in agreement. The two of you had been to a wedding earlier this year, for a friend you had both went to school with. Although it was her big day, both of you decided that the dress was utterly hideous, not that you would ever say that to her face of course. The dress had wide, puffy sleeves that were at least twice the size of her head, the bodice had a corset style ribbon running across it, with lace surrounding the edges. Then, there were the ruffles. The skirt had layers, upon layers of tulle, with ribbon edging each one. All in all, she looked like a yeti, but it seemed to make her happy at least.

You nod your agreement, and the sales woman busies herself with finding suitable dresses for you to model for Mary.

Twenty minutes later, you find yourself in a circular fitting room, with mirrors covering the entire wall around you. The sales woman was with you, helping you into each dress you tried on. The first three had been, nice enough, just not quite what you had been hoping for, and you were beginning to think that maybe the dress you had imagined didn’t exist. “There we are, all buttoned up.” She smiles, patting you on your shoulder with a soft smile. “Now, off you go and show your friend this one!”

You step out of the dressing room, noticing that you didn’t have to lift the skirt while walking unlike with the other dresses you had tried on, a smile forming on your lips at that. You wanted to be able to move easily in your dress, and the idea of lifting the hem each time you took a step just sounded like torture!

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

The four men walked through the bustling streets, smiling and waving at fans as they made their way to the nearest pub. They had been in meetings all morning, discussing what their latest album should be, and were tired of trying to explain what they had all come up with.

“I just don’t get it.” Roger huffed, kicking a stone away from his feet as he walked. “What about Radio GaGa don’t they understand?” He groaned, as John placed a hand on his shoulder in an effort to comfort him.

“It’s a great song Rog, and it’ll be on the album whether the record execs understand it or not.” John offered with a smile, which was returned by Roger.

“Mary!” Freddie squealed loudly, causing the other three men to look at him in surprise. From what they could see, there was no Mary anywhere in sight.

Brian looked at Freddie, squinting down at the excited man. “Fred, there’s no Mary here.” He shrugs, unsure as to where his exclamation had come from.

Freddie points towards a bridal store, grinning light a child on Christmas. “She’s in there darling.” He coos, waving at Mary through the display window. Mary looks shocked, then promptly runs away from the window, arms flailing like a mad woman.

Roger had turned his attention to the store now, along with Brian and John. “What’s Mary doing in a bridal shop?” He muses aloud, as he takes a long drag from his cigarette, before stamping it out beneath his toe.

“I haven’t the faintest idea, let’s go find out, shall we?” Freddie decrees, as he pushes his way through the crowds of people, parting them as if they were the red sea.  The remaining three men gaze between one another, before following their lead singer towards the elegant store.

Upon entering the store, the four men look around, rather overwhelmed by the sheer abundance of white dresses. How can there be this much choice in only one colour? Roger walks further in, stopping every now and then to take a closer look at some of the garments hanging around him. From the corner of his eye, he spots a frantic Mary shoving a figure draped in white back inside a dressing room. “Get in! And don’t come out!”  She shrieks, as she barricades the door with her body. Roger frowns at the sight before him, shaking his head before making his way towards his flustered friend.

As he reaches Mary, the other men had decided to check what all the commotion was about themselves. “Uh, hi Mary?” Brian begins, lifting an eyebrow at the pale rose coloured dress she had on.  The dress boasted puffy sleeves at the shoulders, with the length ending mid forearm, a deep plunging neckline showed off her chest nicely, and a large bow was tied at the back. “You look stunning love, but I must ask. Do you have some news to share with us?”

Mary had the decency to look affronted by Brian’s suggestion, placing her hand against her chest. “Why, whatever do you mean Brian?”

It was John’s turn to speak up next, folding his arms across his chest as he regarded Mary. “I think what Brian means to ask, is whether or not there is a particular reason as to why you’re trying on bridal dresses?”

“Yes! Who is the lucky man? And for the love of God, why did you not tell me you were getting married?” Freddie gasps, as he takes Mary’s hand away from her chest, twirling her in a circle.

Roger frowns deeply, desperately trying to put the pieces together of this puzzle. “Who’s hiding in the fitting room?” He finally asks, referring to the figure he had seen her practically tackle into the small room just before

Mary blinks up at the four men before her, her eyes darting between each of her friends, desperately trying to think of a way out of this situation. “What makes you think I’m getting married?” She finally asks, folding her arms across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently as she awaits a response.

“Well darling, either you’re getting married, or being just a little bit presumptuous. I will happily speak on behalf of all men here, if you were to find a wedding gown in the closet before having asked the woman to marry you, it would be a little bit confronting.”

Mary’s eyebrows crease together, listening intently to Freddie’s explanation, of course he of all people wouldn’t buy her story! She bites down on her lower lip, looking back at the fitting room behind her, praying that you would be able to keep quiet, and hidden from just a little while longer.  “If you must know, my dear friend is getting married shortly, and she has asked me to be a bridesmaid. So I’m looking for a dress for her big day.”

“Oh really?” Brian smirks, lifting an eyebrow in challenge up at her.

“Yes really, thank you very much.”

“What’s her name?” Roger queries, leaning his hip again a glass cabinet filled with tiara’s and accessories of the like. His arms are folded across his chest, his baby blues regarding her with scepticism.

“Um, my friend’s name?” Mary stammers, her eyes going wide, as if she were a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching car.

“Yes, your friend’s name. Who else?” Deaky jumps in, from what he could tell, none of the others were believing her story. What he couldn’t quite understand, was why she was being so secretive. If Mary was engaged, surely, she would be excited?

“Her name?” Mary begins, before losing her nerve, and stepping backwards, pressing herself closer to the door leading to the fitting room. “Jessica!” She quickly declares, breathing a sigh of relief as she thinks up a name.

Freddie’s grin broadens across his lips, showing off his teeth. “My dear, I met all of your friends while we were together, you have never known a Jessica.” He chuckles, and the four men watch the colour drain away from Mary’s face.

“Just tell us the truth Austin, who’s in the fitting room, and who’s wedding is it?” Roger groans. He was already tired from the morning they had had, and he found himself in no mood to play silly games with an over emotional Mary.

Mary gulps audibly, “I dragged Y/N in here to start looking for her wedding dress.” She finally admits, and as if on cue, the fitting room door which she had been guarding is pushed wide open, sending the young woman tumbling to the ground, as a vision in white emerges behind her.

 You only manage to make it halfway towards the podium in the centre of the store, surrounded by mirrors so you could see yourself from each and every angle, before Mary comes running at you, the silken fabric of her maid of honour dress shining merrily beneath the bright lights. “Turn around! Get your arse back in that fitting room right this second!” She yells, waving her arms above her head wildly. You blink at her in surprise, unsure of how to react to her sudden outburst, that is until her hands are cupping your shoulders, and marching you backwards, back into the fitting room you had just emerged from.

“Mary? What on Earth are you doing?” You gasp out, as you take hurried steps backwards, both trying to follow the lead of your friend, and also get away from her.

“Roger! The boys! They’re outside, they saw me and are coming in!”

Your eyes widen, while your jaw goes slack, Roger can’t see you! It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress! Even if this isn’t the dress you end up purchasing, you still don’t want him to see you! “Get rid of them! I don’t care what you have to do, but they cannot be in here!” You plead, just as the chiming of the bell above the door informs you that the band had arrived. Mary has just enough time to slam the fitting room door shut, sending you  tumbling into the sales assistants arms. She caches you swiftly, a scowl forming over her features.

“What do you think you’re doing, playing around in a dress this expensive?” She chastises you, glaring daggers down at you.

“I am so sorry. But please, we need to stay quiet, my fiancé just walked in with his friends, he doesn’t know I’ve started looking at dresses yet!” You plead with the furious woman. The moment you had regained your balance, she had taken her arms away from you, whether to protect the dress or because she was cross with you, you were unsure.

You keep your voice hushed, and the sales assistant does the same, allowing you to hear the conversation beyond the door. The boys are pressing Mary for a reason as to why she’s here, and her lies didn’t seem to be doing a good job at convincing them as to her situation.

“I’m sorry my dear, but I don’t care who else is in this store. You do not, under any circumstances throw yourself around wearing a dress like this.” The woman hisses at you, as she pushes you towards the door again, desperately trying to get you out of the fitting room, despite your protesting.  “This is a three thousand pound dress, you either get out there or get out of the dress!”

With one final push, you find yourself practically flung out of the door, falling against Mary as the door swings open. You both crash to the ground, Mary luckily breaking your fall. “Five more minutes Y/N! I nearly had them convinced to leave!” Mary groans, as you roll off her back.

“You really didn’t…” Four voices laugh from above you, and you find yourself too embarrassed to look up at them. Mary pushes herself up to a standing position, before dutifully reaching her hands down to you, assisting in pulling you upright.

Once standing up straight again, you smooth the dress out around you, lifting the skirt before dropping it back down, quickly removing any creases that had formed from your, elegant entrance. After a few moments of silence, you finally look up at your audience, biting your bottom lip, desperate for someone to break the silence.

“Y/N, you look stunning…” Roger breathes out, drinking in the sight of you. You were an absolute vision, the dress looked as if it had been made just for you, and he would not mind seeing you walk down the aisle wearing exactly this dress.

“Thank you, Rog.” You smile gently, your gaze meeting his heated one, causing your smile to grow wider. It wasn’t an often occurrence for Roger to be honest with his feelings, however you knew he was genuine with his compliment.

Brian nods in agreement, his wild mane of curls bouncing around his shoulders. “You truly do look wonderful, but I must ask. Why are you trying on wedding gowns?” Deaky and Freddie both nod their agreement, all with equal looks of confusion adorned on their faces.

You blink at the three men, confusion colouring you features also. “Why wouldn’t I be trying on bridal dresses?” You press, lifting your eyebrows in anticipation.

“Well as we said to Mary just now, typically one waits until they are engaged before they start dress shopping.” Deaky supplies helpfully.

Nodding, you lift your left hand up, just as Mary points directly at the engagement ring adorned on your ring finger. “Yes, I think I’ve completed step one.”

Freddie gasps loudly, racing over to you and wrapping you up in a rib crushing hug. “Who and when?” He squeals, reaching a pitch that only dogs could hear.

“What do you mean who? Roger of course!” You declare, whirling around to glare at your fiancé.

Brain looks between the two of you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, Roger finally got up the guts to propose?” He chuckles deeply.

“Roger Taylor. You have some explaining to do Mister!” You snarl, your hands resting on your hips as you glare at the blonde, who at least looked somewhat embarrassed by the situation at hand.

“Yes, I proposed, last week so everyone knows exactly when it happened, on a Tuesday. I just, I wanted to keep it between us for a little while, before telling this lot.” He shrugs, a look of guilt gracing his features, as he gazes at you. You step closer to him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, causing him to smile against yours.

“Okay, I understand. You just had me worried for a moment there. I thought maybe I had imagined the whole, you getting down on one knee, and asking me to marry you, thing. But good to know I didn’t!” You blush, reaching up to push his hair back off his forehead.

Mary sighs dreamily behind you, wiping a fake tear off her cheek. “No matter how many times you tell me, I still find it hard to believe that The Roger Taylor proposed to you in a traditional manner.”

You roll your eyes at her antics, shaking your head slowly, smiling once more as you feel Roger’s arms circle around you, his hands resting gently against your waist. The moment is soon broken however as Deaky raises his voice to gather everyone’s attention. “While this is all very romantic, may we just take one moment to remind ourselves of the fact that Roger, our dear drummer, didn’t think any of us important enough to share this news with!”

Roger bows his head, his shaggy hair flopping over his forehead once again. “I mean, you did find out eventually.” He shrugs, looking only somewhat guilty about the whole situation. Deaky shakes his head in disapproval, while Freddie and Brian grin at the semi argument before them.

You can feel Roger’s fingers gliding along your spine as you face the group, playing with the ivory buttons that trail from the nape of your neck, down to the base of your spine. His fingers catch on the price tag, and he plays with the piece of card idly, taking a moment to glance down at the price stamped across it. His breathe hitches in his throat for a moment, though you pay him no mind, instead focusing on the grumpy sales assistant. She had recently emerged from the dressing room, her arms folded across her chest, a stern look gracing her already hard features. “This is no place for a friendly catch up! I must insist Miss, if you are not here to try on our gowns, then you must leave.”

Her look is focused solely on you, and you feel a blush cover your cheeks, averting your gaze quickly. Freddie, reading the discomfort on your face jumps to the rescue, sauntering over to the woman, a devilish grin tugging at his lips. “My dear, we were just leaving now! We are so sorry to have caused a scene, please forgive us!” He finishes his apology by walking up to the woman, taking her hand gently, and placing a kiss against the upside of her palm. Freddie’s grovelling only manages to raise a small smirk from the woman, though it soon falls away.

“I believe it best if I never see you four in this store again.” She grumbles, before turning her attention to you and Mary. “And you two are on thin ice too.” Mary gasps, taking a step back, at what she had deemed as a verbal attack.

“What did we do wrong?” She demands, stomping up to the older woman, both standing with their arms folded across their chests, glaring daggers at one another. You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, it truly looked as if Mary were fighting with an older version of herself.

As Freddie rounds the band up, deciding it really was time to leave, Roger leans down against your side, his lips resting against the shell of your ear.  “Get any dress you’d like Y/N…. Just not this one.” He whispers, still struggling to wrap his head around the exuberant cost of one dress. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he dashes out of the bridal store, racing to catch up with the others, leaving you to try and stop Mary from arguing with the sales assistant.

 The four beer bottles clinked together, the noise muffled out nearly entirely by the noise of the band playing in the small pub. “To Marriage!” Brian declares as he grins at Roger.

“To secret proposals and not telling friends!” Deaky interjects playfully.

“Let’s just stick with to Roger hm?” Freddie offers, before downing a large gulp of his beer, the other three quickly following his lead.

Roger taps his foot along to the song the band had begun playing, the drummer in him unable to rest when a decent beat started. He had never heard of this band before, nor seen them at any of pubs the regularly visited. Though they were quite good, might even be the next Queen he thought. “Is it wrong for me to be worried about the cost of this wedding already?” He laughs half-heartedly, looking at John intently. “You got married Deaks, how much did it cost? Are you still in debt? Help me!”

John blinks at Roger in surprise, the usually stress-free drummer looked to be in the midst of a panic attack. “Ronnie and I kept it pretty simple, so it wasn’t too much, and no we aren’t still debt. We were never in debt. It’s the dress that’s the killer, they can cost a small fortune.” He finishes, before taking another swig.

“Trust me, I know. The dress Y/N was wearing, I don’t think I could ever afford something like that.” Roger sighs, his nerves now calmed somewhat from John’s reassuring words.

John nods in understanding, smiling gently. “You may think that now, but the dress is what makes them the happiest. That’s what Ronnie says at least. At the end of the day, all she cared about was having me there, and her perfect dress.”

“So, from the sounds of things. As long as you let Y/N get the dress she loves, then the wedding could be held in a grocery store, and she wouldn’t care!” Brian chuckles, noticing as the colour drain from Roger’s face.

Roger gulps audibly, before he leans forwards and rests his chin against the table. “I told her not to get the dress she was wearing. And now I can’t imagine her wearing anything other than that one!” He groans, as John moves Roger’s beer away from his head, in an effort to stop it from spilling.

“Congratulations Rog, your marriage is already doomed, and you haven’t even started planning the wedding yet. Surely that must be a world record!” Freddie smirks, while Brian timidly pats Roger’s head.

 “Did you get the dress?” You hear Roger long before you see him, as he stumbles through your apartment door, swearing as he walks directly into the coat stand by the front door. Despite you both having your own apartments, you can’t quite recall the last time Roger had stayed at his, not that there was much of his there anymore. Most of his belongings had migrated their way into your living space during the course of your relationship.

You bite down on your lip, waiting for your drunk fiancé to navigate his way into the sitting room. You couldn’t blame him from having a few drinks in celebration with the others, even you and Mary had gone to a fancy café that served mimosas all day, after leaving the bridal shop. Though from the sounds of things, Roger had likely had a few more to drink than you. “You’ll just have to wait and see won’t you? Just, you know, don’t go into the closet.” You grin softly, as he finally makes his way to you. It was fun to tease drunk Roger, it was fun to tease sober Roger too. Roger looks down at you, curled up on the sofa, with a book across your lap. He raises and eyebrow at your comment, mulling over your words for a few moments, before turning on his heel and marching towards the bedroom.

 A part of Roger was ecstatic at the thought you having bought the dress, the other part of him was utterly terrified, still unable to get the price tag out of his mind. Soon, he finds himself stood before the closet, hand hovering above the handle, shaking with anticipation. “Just do it!” He mutters to himself, before swinging the door open. There, in the corner of the closet, is a white garment bag, with the name of the bridal store printed across it, in black cursive. Reaching out, he pulls the bag off the rack and brings it over to the bed, draping it over the duvet. It’s not as heavy as he had thought it would be, though really, what did he know about the weight of a wedding dress?

Carefully he pulls the zipper down on the bag, pulling it down inch by inch, before it lay open before him. Roger wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry at the sight before him, there, in the garment bag, from a bridal store none the less, lay a brand new leather jacket. A note, with Roger written in your handwriting taped to the material. He hurriedly shook off the denim jacket he was currently wearing, before replacing it with your gift, grinning at how well it fit, the smell of leather filling his nose as he breathed in deeply.

While Roger was engrossed in his findings, you quietly made your way into the bedroom behind him, leaning your hip against the wall, as you waited with a baited breath for him to reveal the jacket. “Damn I have excellent taste in clothing.” You chuckle, as he whirls around on the spot, sporting his new jacket.

“So, you didn’t get the dress then?” He raises his brows in surprise, blinking his striking blue eyes over at you. With a sly grin, you step over to him, reaching your hands out to his jacket.

You zip up the jacket slowly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I will not justify that question with an answer.”

The zip stops at his throat, and Roger smirks down at you. “It’s at Freddie’s isn’t it?’

“it’s at Freddie’s.”  You smile.

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