#when they get these quiet stolen moments to address what went wrong

[themummersfolly]

Slipsand

Not sure I like how this one turned out; y'all be the judges of it. Octoboss, Mr. Harley, and Mr. Davidson content, featuring Mortiflyer Matt.

“Harley!”

Mr. Harley stopped in his tracks. He didn’t correct the term of address; the Organic Mechanic called people whatever the hell he wanted to.

“You been in my stash?”

“No.”

Organic eyed him suspiciously. “Sure about that?”

“Swear on me bike!” Mr. Harley raised his shooting hand earnestly. “No offence, but the less I see of you and your kit, the better. Why, what’s wrong?”

“Somebody’s been in my stash and made off with a whole bottle of distilled spirits. You find out who took it, tell ‘em I want it back.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want you to miss your evening tipple.”

Organic bristled. “That’s an antiseptic, not a party drug! You go make the rounds in the camp, find out who’s got it.”

Technically speaking, Mr. Harley didn’t have to take orders from the Organic Mechanic. But it wasn’t a smart move to piss off the man who might be patching you up tomorrow. He went.

The Mortifiers were camped nearest to Organic’s trike, and if anyone could have snuck in and stolen from him unseen, it was them. But they weren’t the sort of people you wanted to accuse to their faces of something like that. And they’d been off since they rolled back in around midafternoon: quiet, in a way that made him uneasy. Mr. Harley decided he’d check on them last. With any luck, he’d turn up an acceptable replacement elsewhere and Organic would be content to let the matter go.

A low spur of rock jutted out from the ridge, dividing the camp in two. He hiked over it, taking the shortcut and the opportunity to avoid the Mortifiers. He had nearly reached the crest when he heard a sound.

“Eh? Who’s there?”

It sounded like a lizard scurrying for cover. He made his way towards the sound. He and Mr. Davidson could have themselves a fine little barbecue…

Something came sailing out of the rocks and clattered at his feet. At the same time a ragged voice cried out close by:

“Get lost, ya cunt!”

Mr. Harley stared at the pistol at his feet, then traced its trajectory back. The Octoboss sat in a gap in the rock, concealed from most lines of sight. His helmet lay on the ground beside him; the snarl on his face was made significantly less menacing by the bottle clutched in one hand and the way his eyes kept sliding out of focus. Mr. Harley turned to face him.

“Organic wants his hooch back.”

“Tell him to get fucked.”

Mr. Harley tilted his head to the side. “What you doing up here, anyway? Sun’s going down, you oughta be your mates.”

At the mention of the Mortifiers, the Octoboss sat bolt upright, eyes wide with- anger? Fear? For a moment he glared at Mr. Harley, trembling. Then, as if his ignition had been cut, he collapsed back with his head against the rock behind him and took a deep, sobbing breath.

“Oh.” Mr. Harley glanced around, then bent and picked up the Octoboss’s pistol. “Went sideways today, huh?”

“’S a training mission,” the Octoboss slurred. Nobody else in the Horde had training missions; but then, nobody else in the Horde had a record like the Mortifiers, so maybe they were onto something. He looked up and saw his pistol in Mr. Harley’s hands, and snatched at it ineffectually. “Give i’back.”

Mr. Harley dropped the magazine and cleared the chamber before holding it out for him to take. The Octoboss settled back and closed his eyes. Mr. Harley hunkered beside him. This close, he could see the tear tracks cutting through the grime down his face.

“Crikey,” he muttered. “I never knew you to take more’n a sip at a time. How much did you drink?”

Without opening his eyes, the Octoboss held up the bottle. It was three quarters empty; there was no telling how much had been in it. Mr. Harley studied him.

“Not trying to off yourself, are you?”

The Octoboss mumbled something indistinct but negative. Mr. Harley was beginning to wonder if he should go get some help when the other man’s eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright.

“You know what this is?” The Octoboss brandished the pistol in his face. “’S a Colt Commander 45 ACP! Gold-plated, custom grips! Given to me by Killcount!”

“Yeah.” None of this was news to Mr. Harley. “He’s got good taste, Killcount.”

“Had,” the Octoboss choked. “He had good taste.” He started to collapse sideways. Mr. Harley reached out and caught him by the shoulder, holding him up until he could wedge himself in beside him.

“Gitoff,” the Octoboss muttered halfheartedly. Mr. Harley let go of him and he slumped against his shoulder.

“Guess this is why your boys been so quiet.”

The other man’s face knit up in anguish. “’S my fault. Only got in that rig ‘cause I told him to. He trusted me!” A sound like a wounded animal escaped his throat, then quietly, against Mr. Harley’s shoulder: “I fucked up.”

Wondering how he’d gotten to the point where he was comforting the Octoboss of all people, Mr. Harley wrapped one arm around the other man’s shoulders.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Wind’s in the west, about ten knots. There’s a squall on the horizon, looks like it’ll miss us.”

The Octoboss nodded along to Jag’s weather report. “Good flying weather.” He turned to Killcount. “You ready for this?”

Killcount tugged at the straps of his parachute. “Ready for anything, Boss.”

“Let me hear your instructions back.”

“Just like being towed. We get up to speed, I pop the chute and lift off. Steer with the brake lines, put her through some basic maneuvers, don’t try anything fancy.” A sandscreen hid his face, but his posture was relaxed. The Octoboss turned his mask over in his hands, studying his pilot.

“You comfortable with the rig?”

Killcount snorted. “You designed it, Boss.”

“That’s not an answer.”

A cocky tip of the head. “Affirm. If I was any more comfortable with it I’d be napping.”

“Right. Take her up.”

Killcount threw an informal salute and turned to the waiting sidecar. As the driver sped off, Jag cupped a hand around his mouth. “Don’t fly into the storm, wanker!”

The sail opened perfectly; the Octoboss let out a breath he’d been holding. Killcount flailed a little on lift-off, so used to the towing rig, but in short order he got his grip on the brake lines and brought the rig under control. A cheer went up from his comrades as he soared over them.

“Bloody oath, look at him go!”

“Gotta be doing almost 30 clicks, eh, Matt?”

“Piss off, he’s not doing more than 10.”

The Octoboss followed his progress across the sky. They hadn’t even been sure the rig would get off the ground; now that it had, the plan was simple maneuvers only, just to prove the concept. Killcount took the sail through a series of turns, using the occasional updraft to gain altitude. The Octoboss was already making mental modifications. A way to steer that left the hands free, maybe a fan if they could find one the right size. That would give the pilot more control over speed, too, maybe enough to run down a moving target…

The sail began to rise sharply. Killcount banked to stay in that column of air.

“Hey Boss! I caught a thermal!”

“Use it!” he called back.

Up, up, until the sail was a dot against the blue and the glare made everyone’s eyes water. Warthog leaned on his handlebars.

“He better be careful.”

It was a technique they’d discussed but never had the opportunity to try until now: gain altitude with a thermal, then glide until you found another to boost you. Solar power, the History Man called it. Shine the sun’s light on something and turn its heat into fuel.

Jag shielded his eyes with both hands. “I think he’s fouled.”

The Octoboss screwed up his eyes against the glare. He’d drifted out of his spiral, heading east. Part of the sail seemed to be deformed; they could see Killcount struggling below it.

“Lines are tangled,” the Octoboss realized. He was losing altitude fast. He eyeballed the trajectory and kicked his motorcycle to life. Wherever he landed, they needed to get to him first.

The terrain got sandier to the east, giving rise to dunes within a few kilometers. The Octoboss kept one eye on his wayward flyer, willing him to regain control over the rig. If he could make it to the dunes, he might be able to use the updraft to break his fall; if he had to, he could even skid across the side of one and land without injuring himself. He was nearing one of the low dunes now. He kicked out, managed to catch and drag his heels a few meters. A gust of wind caught his sail and dragged him through the crest, out of sight. The Octoboss cursed and gunned his engine, looking for the quickest way around.

“I don’t see him!” Warthog had kept pace with him, Jag hanging out of the sidecar and scanning the terrain. “He couldn’ta gone far, could he?”

Fear rose in his chest. The wide trough between the dunes looked empty. There was no way Killcount could have regained altitude, his sail was almost fully collapsed. The Octoboss rolled up onto a rise in the sand, trying for a better vantage point. There, a few hundred meters away, a movement on the surface of the sand caught his eye. At the same time Jag called out:

“I see him!”

Slightly ahead, the Octoboss accelerated towards the movement. It was human, all right, a pair of arms, struggling at the surface of the sand. Had he landed so hard he’d been buried? And where was the sail? As he got closer, it looked less like Killcount was under the sand and more like he was beyond the edge of it, as though the ground fell away in a-

“Sinkhole!” the Octoboss yelled. He skidded to a halt, motioning frantically for his men to stop behind him. He leapt off his bike and ran forward, throwing himself flat when he felt the sand start to shift under him. Killcount’s fingers were barely visible over the edge now. He shimmied to the edge, reached out to grab his hand, and felt the ground give way, dropping them further into the pit.

Something heavy landed across his legs and he heard Jag’s voice yelling to hang on. He shook sand from his eyes and found himself staring at Killcount. The other man scrambled at the slope. His sandscreen was gone and his eyes wide. His sail was barely visible in the bottom of the pit, filling with sand as it dragged him down.

“Boss!” There was terror there he hadn’t heard since they were teenagers. “Help me!”

Killcount’s hands were just out of reach.

“Lower me!” At the same time, he unclipped his cape and flung it forward. “Grab it!”

A vibration ran through the sand: the rest of the crew pulling up. More of the slope gave way. Killcount screamed as he slid further out of reach.

There were shouts behind him, someone yelling for grappling hooks. The weight on his legs was replaced and he felt himself lowered another meter, two meters. A glance over his shoulder: it was Matt, holding onto a grappling hook with one hand and the straps of the Octoboss’s shin guard with the other.

“Keep going!” he yelled to someone up top. Another meter down. The Octoboss snapped his cape to get it back within Killcount’s reach. This time he caught it by one corner. His legs were already buried to the knee.

“Got him! Pull away!”

Somehow, Killcount got his other hand into the fabric. The Octoboss pulled with everything he had, even as Matt pulled him up by his gear. Motorcycles revved. They were barely gaining ground.

“Don’t let me go!” Killcount’s hands were beginning to slip on the fabric. “Please, Boss!”

“Hang tight!” The Octoboss could barely turn his head. “Hook up another bike!”

“The chute!” Matt yelled. “It’s pulling him down!”

“Killcount! Lose the chute!”

“I can’t let go!”

“Do it!” Turning again, as best he could: “Slack! Slack!”

He slid forward a few centimeters, enough to give Killcount a proper grip with one hand.

“Unclip! Killcount, you’re caught by your chute!”

Killcount looked back at him: panic-stricken, the eyes of a trapped animal. But he obeyed. Holding on with one hand, he fumbled with his flying harness, kicked free of it.

“Pull! Pull!”

A rumble ran through the sand. Killcount lunged, caught the Octoboss’s hand. He had a glimpse of his face, full of horror, and the entire wall of the sinkhole collapsed. Sand filled the Octoboss’s eyes and ears and mouth, dragging him down.

When his head cleared, he was facedown on the desert floor, coughing violently while someone pounded him on the back. His hair hung loose in his face, and something was hung up around his left boot. He realized it was his shin guard.

“Matt-”

Whoever was pounding on his back stopped.

“All good, Boss,” came the ragged reply behind him.

He managed to push himself up to his elbows. His arms and chest burned. “Killcount?”

The cape hung limp in his hand. He blinked sand out of his eyes. At the other end of it lay nothing.

“He’s gone,” said Warthog beside him. His voice shook. “We tried- if it wasn’t for Matt here, we’da lost you.”

He stared, dumbstruck, at the hole where his pilot had been- his best pilot. His friend. To die in a crash was one thing. To die like this, sucked down, choked, crushed-

There wasn’t anything we could do.

It shouldn’t have happened, it was a freak chance, a bad dream-

There wasn’t anything we could do.

He’d had him by the hand, they’d almost been out-

There wasn’t anything we could do.

How long did it take to die, drowning in sand?

The sun was fully down. The Octoboss sat slumped against Mr. Harley’s shoulder, eyes closed. Mr. Harley had placed the bottle with its few remaining swallows out of his reach, but allowed him to keep the pistol; unloaded as it was, it seemed to comfort him.

Boots crunched on the path over the ridge.

“Mr. Harley? Love? You up here?”

“Oi!” he answered back. A moment later Mr. Davidson came into view.

“Organic said you was looking for- oh. Looks like the two of you found his missing bottle.”

The Octoboss let out a huff that might have been a snore. Mr. Harley motioned with one hand: he’s drunk. Mr. Davidson grimaced.

“Pissed as a newt, ain’t he?”

“He had a bad day.”

“He’ll have a worse one come tomorrow. Organic won’t help him with that hangover.”

“Don’t think it can get much worse than losing one of your mates. ‘Specially the way his lot hang together.”

“Poor bastard. Well, what do we do with him?”

“’M right here,” the Octoboss mumbled into Mr. Harley’s jacket.

“Good on ya,” Mr. Davidson replied. “Can you stand up? We’ll walk you back to your boys.”

The Octoboss mumbled a reply.

“Eh? What’sat?”

“Said jus’ leave me here. They don’t need t’see me like this.”

“You’ll freeze to death inside an hour,” snapped Mr. Davidson. “Bloody hell. Suppose he’ll have to rack with us.”

“’At’s alright. C’mon, mate, we’ll make sure you’re safe.”

“Least until you sober up, then Organic’s gonna have your scalp.”

The Octoboss was a couple of centimeters taller than Mr. Harley, but significantly lighter in build; lifting him to his feet was like manipulating a particularly wobbly set of disjointed tent poles. Mr. Harley got one arm over his shoulders, and Mr. Davidson got the other as well as the horned helmet. Slowly, they picked their way back down the path.

“This here’s the tricky part,” Mr. Davidson said near the bottom of the hill. “You get him back to the bikes. I’ll let his boys know where he is.”

“Don’t tell ‘em ‘bout this. ‘Bout…” The Octoboss blinked, his train of thought having apparently skipped the tracks. “Jus’ don’t. Or I’ll have t’kill you.”

Mr. Harley and Mr. Davidson exchanged glances.

“You throw up in my bedroll and Organic’ll have to stand in line to scalp you,” Mr. Davidson replied.

“Don’t throw up when I drink. Never have.” The Octoboss sagged against Mr. Harley. Mr. Davidson made an annoyed snort and headed off toward the Mortifiers’ camp.

“We’re not gonna narc on you,” Mr. Harley offered. “They don’t need to know anything else but you’re alright. After what happened today, they don’t need more worry.”

At the mention of his men, the Octoboss got quiet.

“Can’t face ‘em,” he mumbled. “Keep seeing Killcount. Should been me in the chute, it was my fucking idea…”

“Killcount was a good fella. I’m sorry he had to go that way.”

Dim firelight showed fresh tears on the Octoboss’s face. “Rode with me since we were kids. ’S my best flyer.”

“Yeah. And we’ll remember him when we see you flying. You’ll remember him when you fly.”

They were back at the little campsite. Mr. Harley eased the Octoboss down onto his own bedroll; he’s double up with Mr. Davidson tonight. The Octoboss sat cross-legged, staring at the dirt in the darkness.

“I keep seeing him down there. I keep seeing his eyes. He trusted me.”

“Yeah, he did. They all do, your Mortifiers.” Mr. Harley crouched in front of him. “You’ve always done right by them. So here’s how you do right by ol’ Killcount. When you see him, you reach out, tell him he can rest and you’ve got it from here, and you close his eyes. And then you get up, and you do what you can for them that’s still with you. Savvy?”

The Octoboss stared at him, slightly cross-eyed, before closing his eyes. He swayed in place a little, and for a moment Mr. Harley thought he wouldn’t answer.

“Savvy,” he said at last.

[barncat-therapy]

Missing Inventory

TIMING: Early May PARTIES:@barncat-therapy & @ohwynne SUMMARY: A bunch of pastries go missing in A Latte To Love, and Luis and Wynne have to answer to the manager as to why that is. CONTENT WARNINGS: Abuse mentions

What happens when several pastries in a cafe suddenly go missing without anyone being able to account for it? 'Oh well' and move on, right? It's not that big a deal.

Well, not to Todd, it wasn't. As soon as the shift manager caught whiff of the incident, he'd begun grilling the staff adamantly looking for the culprit.

Which Luis could understand - getting angry over being stolen from and all. Taking it out on people who were innocent of the crime seemed a bit silly, though.

"Like I said. I didn't see anything. I'm sorry, I'll keep a closer eye out."

Luis took his own interrogation pretty gracefully, answering questions even as they repeated, apologising, not raising his voice, nothing. Not that it seemed to be helping any.

"I swear, if I find out it's you swiping stuff, you're out of here! You're on thin ice as it is, Luis. You hear me?!"

Todd only felt angrier after having gotten no answers, blaming Luis' seeming lack of care for it. The barista's reputation for sporadically being late had already been enough reason to heavily dislike him.

"Roger that, sir."

Luis retreated back to the front of the store quite promptly, having taken it as a signal that he was free to go.

Truly, it felt a bit hopeless to get Todd to like him eventually after all. Whatever he thought of it all logically speaking, guilt and shame did find a way to churn in his belly whenever he and Todd 'clashed' in such a way. Maybe he should have offered to cover the losses...

The balam didn't seem frazzled in the least when he returned either, addressing Wynne with the same quiet, semi-friendly neutral tone he almost always used.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Wynne! Come to the break room!"

Okay, so maybe he shouldn't have been surprised that Todd wasn't done yet.

Nerves had started to spread through Wynne’s body the moment Todd had started his rampage to find out who had allowed multiple pastries to be stolen. Dread settled in their stomach, but their fingers felt tingly as well. It was hard to focus on their work, as they were well aware that it was their fault the pastries were gone and they had no way to tell the truth without coming off as completely insane.

They hadn’t done enough wrong at their job so far to meet consequences, but perhaps this would be the day. They wondered what methods of punishment they used here, the same way they wondered what punishment would await them if they ever returned home. Sometimes they still felt fingers clutching their jaw. 

Todd didn’t seem the type. Consequences looked different in this world and yet they felt tense, cagey, and felt like they’d jump out of their skin the moment Luis returned. “No, nothing too exciting.” They finished writing the name Maisie on a cup and were about to start her order when there was a shout. “Can you finish her up? Soy hazelnut latte.” There was an apologetic expression on their face. “Don’t wanna keep him waiting.” 

Wynne scurried off to the breakroom, where they looked at Todd with an expression that must have confirmed his suspicions. His bark had bite and Wynne had none themself, stammering that they “didn’t see anyone take anything,” and “it gets so busy during rush hour.” 

They didn’t really feel like saying that someone almost a head shorter than them had transformed into some kind of monster and taken off with plenty of pastries. Still, lying to authority went against Wynne’s nature and soon their hands trembled.

Todd’s volume went higher and they just looked more guilty, “I can see that you’re lying, Wynne! Might be easier for us all if you just fess up. Or do you want everyone to be blamed?”

“No, no! I just didn’t take anything, I don’t steal —” This was a lie, too, but Wynne hadn’t stolen from A Latte to Love, so they felt justified in it. Their eyes darted to the door but flicked back with a jump as Todd’s hands slammed on the table.

There was only a quiet nod of confirmation as Luis took over the order so Wynne could answer the call.

Though he did worry. He'd been here longer than Todd's tenure had lasted himself, he was used to the other's behaviour and was perfectly content to suck it up. But letting someone newer, younger, be forced into doing the same didn't quite feel right.

As he worked, he tried to strain his sharp hearing enough to eavesdrop on whatever was said from afar. It proved too much of a distraction, especially with some students chatting together loud enough to drown it out. And so, the man waited instead.

A dirty chai later, it was quiet enough to excuse himself instead and drift closer to listen in.

The slamming was the straw that broke the camel's back, evidently.

Luis came marching in to interrupt, no apologies or sheepishness in sight.

"Luis? Get back to the front!"

Todd hadn't taken kindly to the intrusion, obviously, dismissively waving for the other to get back out.

For once, Luis did the opposite. A faint instinct, perhaps from his brother, yearned to solve the conflict through the threat of fangs and claws. Challenging the hierarchy through an understated glare would have to do. Lacking in intimidation as he was, he pushed his way between Wynne and Todd.

He didn't quite have the words for what he wanted to say laid out yet.

"Are you daft? Get out front. You have customers to serve!"

"Will you quit scaring them? Did your parents never teach you to handle things like a rational person or what?"

Standing to the tallest his 5'4 could get him, he finally spat back to Todd, biting back a 'please' in the process.

He'd be a liar if he claimed he too didn't find the manager's hovering and close proximity in the least intimidating himself. But he was great at not showing it at least.

With his back to Wynne, he hardly seemed bothered by any of this still.

Luis didn't actually expect it to make Todd back off at all - but it did, physically at least. It did nothing to quell the anger, he didn't think, but it was progress. 

It was pathetic, they thought, how they froze in the face of Todd. He was nothing compared to the people they had known before. He didn’t even know who they had been once, how they had mattered — Wynne had been revered and admired, looked up to and envied. They had sat on special seats and gotten the best cuts of meat and yet here they were, so small in the face of their shift manager who wielded power in a way they would later think distasteful.

But for now, there was no room for criticism. There was only the stir of fear within them, the knowledge that they had messed up and that it could cost them their job. Disappointing their superiors wasn’t something Wynne was fond of doing, even if they seemed to keep doing it.

And then Luis came in, only a few beats after Todd had slammed his hands on the table. A show of authority that made them take a step back, perhaps making them look all the more guilty. What did it matter? The stealing was done. It would hopefully not happen again. Wynne hoped the monstrous girl had gotten her fill.

For a moment it seemed they just stood there together, the tension of the room rising with another person present. Luis moved between themself and Todd, and Wynne let him without arguing. They didn’t know him too well, in all fairness, but what they did know about their colleague they liked. And right now? They were glad to be able to take a step back and breathe.

Todd bristled. “Someone ought to have taught you a thing or two about manners, that’s my two cents. Got it?” 

This show of guts of him came as a surprise, though, and they let it occur without participating, shaking the nerves from their hands. After a moment, they stepped to the side slightly, just so Luis’ back was no longer obscuring them from Todd’s view. Their voice was soft and something of a stammer, but somewhat fueled by Luis’ attitude, “Look, I promise I didn’t take anything or notice anything. It sometimes gets very busy, right? One of us must’ve missed something.” They hoped they could form a bit of an united front, they and Luis.“But like this there’s even less eyes in the store? So maybe we should just try and get back so we can make sure nothing goes missing again?”

They hadn’t really had trials at the commune, but even there the rule was that accusations of theft only held weight if there was proof. 

Todd seemed to be rumbling under his skin, staring down at his employees. Maybe he realized that there was little he could do with his blind assumptions. “I’ll be keeping an eye on both of you, going forward. Any differences in the till or stock and we’ll go over this again.” He huffed. “And I’ll make sure the cameras are working again, too.”

He waved his hands, as if he wanted to blow them away with the movement. Wynne knew when to grab an opportunity to turn around and walk off, so they did as much, tugging at Luis’ apron as they moved towards the front of the shop again, leaving Todd with his paperwork and whatever else he did there.

While Wynne spoke, Luis kept up his own protest at their treatment, standing stock still with arms now crossed. With every moment, finding himself just that bit more sure of what he was doing. 

All in all this had gone...way better than Luis expected, huh. Pulled along towards the front with no resistance, he'd kept his half-glare fixed on the manager until they exited the breakroom, no further words shared.

Internally, he preened at the outcome, his righteous anger vindicated and the thought of paying for the theft himself long gone. Faintly, he felt an urge to purr.

There was no time to dwell on it or how out of character that had become of him, though, not at work.

"I'll double check the stock again. Just in case anything went missing during...you know."

Hopefully another quick count of the pastries wouldn't find yet another discrepancy to answer for. 

At least it was done. Wynne wasn’t sure if there would be any consequences besides some more glares than usual from Todd, but they were glad they were back in the store at least. Here, he couldn’t yell or do something incredibly cruel without potential customers seeing. There would be no retribution the way there would have been if this was back home.

They breathed a little easier, taking stock of the customers in the store. They all seemed to be occupied with their own things, but maybe they were just pretending.

“Alright. I’ll check the till.” They looked at Luis for a moment, then pulled open the cash drawer after putting in the security code and pretended to count the money. In all truth, Wynne was just focused on trying to slow their heart beats. Their hands were a bit clammy.

They looked over at Luis. “Hey. Thanks, for that. That was nice. You didn’t have to, but you did it anyway, and I really appreciate it when people do. So. Thanks.” They realized too late that they shouldn’t be thanking people any more. “If I ever need to have your back, I’ll have it too.” That would be nice, wouldn’t it? To have each other’s backs, as colleagues. Not just during lunch rush, but in the face of Todds and all other dangers, too.

[jemmo]

seriously… who let tms2 do this? who let them do a s2 break up and actually do it amazingly? bc i was so ready to be mad if this break up was unnecessary drama, but then I thought back to s1 and my feelings when it ended. bc I adore jiwoo and seojun and I adore them together, I think they make so much sense, but that still didn’t stop this niggling feeling telling me it’s not gonna be that easy, that there are some real issues that could be difficult for them to get past, mainly seojuns status as a celebrity meaning it’s difficult for them to be together, both in public and bc of time, he’s gonna be so busy and tired that it’s gonna be hard for them to find time together, and jiwoo being so… well, jiwoo. being closed off and reserved and not sharing how he feels, how difficult that is for him and how difficult that will be for seojun who so wants to be let inside. those are things that weren’t gonna be solved overnight, and so they weren’t. they made a whole s2 about those exact issues, how these aspects of them as people clash and make a relationship hard, no matter how much they may love each other. and I just adore that. bc so many shows that end with the couple getting together, they leave us with this expectation that everything ended happily, they lived happily ever after. they don’t address what happens after you get together, when you have to be two people living together, sharing a life, going through everything life throws at you together. that’s what being together really is and it can be hard and I’m so fucking happy that tms2 is showing that, that happily ever afters take time and work, and they can hurt before they get better, that they aren’t guaranteed but have to be worked for, by both people, and they don’t happen unless those two people really, truly want it.

[plus-size-reader]

Hack Job

Jerome Valeska x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2315 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Jerome comes back from the dead with his face stapled on and she needs to help him put it back

—————————————————————————————————

You were bored.

Gotham was the kind of city where you could never really know what to expect, and you had to be ready for anything. There was always something going on, or going wrong, but tonight, that didn’t seem to be the case.

It was an unusually quiet Friday night, with nothing of note happening, and really, you were glad for it.

Having nothing going on was better than having to deal with the truth.

Since Jerome was killed, nothing had the same gusto as before. You didn’t find anything exciting, or worthwhile and that didn’t seem to be changing anytime soon.

You missed him.

So, rather than think about anything else, you decided to keep doing what you’d been doing all this time. You were going to spend the rest of your life on your couch with a bucket of popcorn and shitty news coverage.

Shitty news coverage all about Jerome.

Evidently, the rest of the world was celebrating the death of the man you loved, even though you were more miserable than you had ever been. You didn’t want to do this whole thing without him.

Even tonight, which started out fairly normal, was dull and dreary.

You had a pint of your favorite ice cream and a spoon, as well as the newest episode of your favorite show, but you couldn't have cared at all.

Nothing was going to make you feel better.

Unfortunately though before you could feel too bad for yourself, all that had to be put on hold when the doorbell of your apartment went off, echoing through the small space like the abrasive chiming of church bells.

“Coming” you groaned, standing from your couch with a groan, leaving the old blanket you had been cuddled up with in your place. You were desperately hoping they would just go away.

You weren’t in the mood for any company but you knew that whoever it was would just keep knocking. In this city, you were painfully aware of everyone who lived around here and they all sucked.

They wouldn’t go away.

...But it wasn’t like something terrible was going to happen.

You had no idea who could be visiting at this hour, but you doubted anyone would try to pull anything on you.

Everyone knew you as Jerome Valeska’s girlfriend so they didn’t dare inflict the wrath of his killer cult, who basically worshiped you as a goddess, even now.

The fact that Jerome was gone wasn’t going to change the way they felt about him, or how they felt about you by proximity. As long as you were alive, everything that Jerome had believed in was alive.

That was all they needed.

However, the moment the door swung open, you knew your ice cream would be long forgotten, left to melt without a doubt. 

After all, the last thing you expected to see on a Friday night was your dead boyfriend but in Gotham you had to be ready for anything.

“Jerome?”

The word came out as a single gasp from the back of your throat, your jaw slack as you tried to collect yourself. All that did, of course, was cause hot tears to spill from your eyes and down your cheeks.

It was weird.

You had never been super emotional, in all your life, but for some reason, this was really getting to you. You couldn’t handle the rush of emotion that hit you as you tried to fathom a million things at once.

Jerome was dead.

You had seen him die, and the coverage of his murder was all over the news. It wasn’t like you’d imagined the whole thing, or forgotten to take your medicine again.

It was real.

Though, before you could get too worked up in that, you pulled Jerome into your body as tightly as you could. You didn’t want him to disappear again, even if you couldn’t figure out how this happened.

It didn’t really matter as long as he wasn’t going anywhere.

You sighed, taking in his scent as deeply as you could just to make sure that he was really here. 

He smelled faintly like formaldehyde but buried beneath all that was his calming scent that a few moments ago, you would have killed to smell again.

Somehow, you’d managed to forget just how much it meant to you.

“Are you real?” you whispered into the crease of his neck. You were no stranger to the odd hallucination in the past, but this was much more than that.

Hallucinating Jerome like this would be far too cruel to handle.

“Course I am” he grinned, pulling you closer before letting go completely, heading inside the apartment as if he owned it, which technically he did. After all, you’d bought it with the money he’d stolen.

The scene that Jerome walked into was hilarious, it was as if he hadn’t even left and you had been waiting for him to return.

The blanket you had been cuddling with was the only thing that was out of place, it had come from his closet, not from your shared bed.

He picked it up and looked back at you in questioning with a smirk dressing his lips. “It smelled like you” you level, shrugging and making your way over to him, before crashing down next to his body on the couch.

It was just like it always was, like it should have been all along.

You let yourself melt into his chest as you crawled into his lap, letting him wrap the before-mentioned blanket around you both as you moved closer.

...but there was one thing that you’d yet to address, and one thing that you needed to talk about.

Jerome wasn’t completely the same as you remembered because as you snuggled into him and let your fingers dance over the skin of his jaw, you were met with the cold chill of metal.

That was certainly new.

You pulled your hand away quickly and looked up at him in shock “What was that?” you whisper, keeping your voice low so as to not disturb the peace. You still hadn’t gotten any answers as to what was happening, but you certainly should have noticed that.

In the dark, it must have skipped your mind. You hadn’t noticed, but now that you had, it was kind of hard to go back to cuddling as if everything was fine.

It definitely wasn’t.

Apparently, Jerome's had his face stolen and as best you could tell, had attempted to reattach it with a staple gun.

“Oh no J, what did you do?” you whined, naturally concerned that he’d made some kind of half-cocked choice that was going to hurt him. He was prone to irrational solutions and you were worried.

There was silence between the two of you for a moment or so as you thought about what you were going to do before you stood from the warm cocoon you’d created on the couch completely.

You had to do something about this.

“How did this happen?” you muttered, taking his hands in your own to lead him to the table where you could get a better look at him. You didn’t really want an answer from him, of course.

It was just more of that nervous prattling you tended to get up to when you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“I did the best I could with what I had” he shrugged, as if there was nothing wrong with the way he had chosen to attach his face. In his mind, he didn’t think that he could have done any better but you knew differently.

It looked like a mess.

“You might as well have super glued it” you teased, sitting him down and getting to work looking him over. It was an absolute chaotic solution to what had happened, and frankly, you weren’t even a tad bit shocked.

The edges of his skin, held together with a few thick staples, were jagged and ridiculous.

“Careful princess, I didn’t exactly have you around to put it back on for me” he chides, admiring your concentration as you studied him. Your tongue peeked out between your lips as you did your best to pick at the staples without hurting him.

They had to come out.

Anything was better than having rusty metal holding your lover’s face on, and you were sure it wasn’t comfortable. As unpleasant as it was to look at, you could only imagine it felt that much worse.

“Stop me if I’m hurting you” you suggested, knowing fully that he wouldn’t. No matter what he was feeling, he was never going to admit that he was hurting. He was never going to do that, not ever.

Instead, all you could do was smile as you looked him in the eye, continuing to pluck at the metal in his face.

“I missed you” Jerome hummed, moving on completely from what you’d been talking about. He didn’t care about if his face hurt or about the fact that he was literally back from the dead.

Nothing mattered to him any more than you did.

“I missed you too” you whispered, taking in the predatory look in his eyes as he looked at you. You found yourself admittedly taken aback by that because you hadn’t seen that look in almost a year.

You really had.

Jerome was your greatest friend, and the love of your life. Having to live life without him for so long was awful, and you never wanted to do it again.

If you could help it, he would stay by your side forever.

“Y/N” he sighed, catching you off guard. Jerome very rarely used your real name so at first you were concerned you had hurt him, or that something was wrong. 

However, all he really wanted was for you to give him the attention he’d been craving.

You were trying desperately to get his face cleaned up but he was already bored of that. So bored, in fact, that he slid his hands under your ample thighs to pull you into his lap, earning a heavy sigh from you.

This was going to take forever.

“Jerome” you scoffed, doing your very best to get away from his hold so that you could finish up here, but he wasn’t having any of it. In fact, the more you struggled against his hold, the more Jerome laughed.

This was one big game for him.

“I have to get you cleaned up J, you need to let me” you grumbled, doing everything that you could to figure this out. You were well aware of how difficult he could be but this was serious.

He could really run into trouble with this.

“But that’s no fun at all” he huffed, pressing a kiss to your face as gingerly as he could. It had been too long since he’d been able to hold you and right now, the last thing he wanted to do was wait for anything.

Especially not for you to sew his face back on.

Without hesitation, you stood from his lap and headed over to the medicine cabinet before he could argue with you over it. 

He wasn’t happy about it, of course, which you could tell because of the hefty slap on your ass as you did so.

Thankfully though, you didn’t have to care about that because you had a job to do right now and it was far more important than whatever he wanted to do. You had plenty of time to spend together now that he was back.

You didn’t exactly have any experience reattaching faces but you knew anything you could do would be better than the hack job he was currently walking around with.

At least if you took over, it would be clean.

After quite a bit of going back and forth, you decided that a spool of thread and a sharp, disinfected needle was going to be your best option. 

You practically soaked everything in 95% pure alcohol, and if it wasn’t clean, not was.

The last thing you wanted was for Jerome to be walking around with a painful, infected face, so you let the needle disinfect for a little longer just in case.

Once you felt it was good enough, you headed back over to the table where Jerome was now pretending to be dead against the hardwood, always the drama queen.

“Get up you goofball” you ordered, playfully smacking his shoulder with the back of your hand before setting everything you had gathered down in a huge pile.

You weren’t looking forward to doing this but it had to be done and you couldn’t exactly take him to urgent care to get it done.  After all, the man you loved was still a wanted criminal, even though some people didn’t know he was alive.

“Okay J, this might sting a little” you sigh, biting into the plump flesh of your bottom lip to stifle your own nerves.

Jerome wondered if maybe you were more bothered by this than he was, but he thought it was cute so he said nothing regarding it.

“That’s okay kitten, I’ve got something to hold onto” he smirks, grabbing onto you before you could even ask what he meant. 

Jerome Valeska was always a terrible flirt but considering you hadn’t seen each other in nearly a year on top of that, you couldn’t imagine how bad he was going to get.

It wasn’t until you felt his hands snake around your waist that you understood the meaning of his words, your suspicions were confirmed when he took two big handfuls of your jean wrapped ass and kneaded the flesh through the fabric.

This was definitely not how you thought your night was going to go this morning, but at least he was alive.

[adenei]

Summer of Jily - Week 7

Yahoo! I'm all caught up for @efkgirldetective's summer of Jily Challenge!

This week's prompts: Ice cream and "I don't want anyone touching you like I do"

*********

Two days passed since their impromptu first date in the coziness of the cabin, and things could not be better. At least, that’s what James thought. The only snafu in the plan was that neither he nor Lily had discussed telling their friends about the relationship. Stolen moments alone were spent enjoying each other’s company while keeping an ear out for anyone who might intrude on their private time together.

They were no closer to coming up with a way of revealing their relationship, and if James was being honest, he quite liked the thrill of keeping his girlfriend, Lily, a secret from the Marauders. Sirius would probably hex him into tomorrow if he found out James was hiding something, but he would deal with that when the time came.

After two days of rain, the weather had finally cleared up, and the boys found themselves roaming up and down the main street of town while the girls were off shopping.

“Honestly, how much shopping can they possibly do?” Peter asked as he plopped down on a bench.

“With Mary and Marlene at the helm? It’s safer not to ask,” Remus thought out loud.

“It’s been two hours, and they’ve still got another half hour before they’re due to meet us for that picture show Mary’s been droning on about,” Sirius pointed out.

In an effort to avoid his friends’ complaints, James looked around the area for something to pass their time. His eyes settled on an ice cream shop across the street.

“Well, we could either sit here or go get some ice cream over there at that shop,” James suggested.

Peter perked up at the mention of ice cream while Remus gave a noncommittal shrug. Sirius was the only one to verbalize his agreement as he stood and led their way to the shop, his mood much brighter than moments ago.

“I could go for some ice cream! I prefer Muggle cotton candy ice cream to Fortescue’s strawberry peanut butter any day.”

The rest of the Marauders followed and approached the queue. They stood behind an older couple and waited. James continued to observe their surroundings, hoping that the girls might appear. He already missed Lily despite only being separated for a couple hours. As he was scanning the area, a group of girls who looked to be around their age joined the queue behind them, which Sirius was quick to point out.

“Look how hot that lot is, mate.”

James nodded, though he didn’t take the time to check them out. He was about to change the subject when one of the girls took notice of them and giggled. The sound caught his attention and distracted his attention. One of the girls was eyeing him; she was blonde with bright blue eyes and a petite frame, certainly attractive, but no longer his type. His type was Lily Evans, plain and simple.

He flashed a polite smile, then averted his gaze as the queue moved up. The boys were called up to the next window to order, and he was happy to put some distance between them and the group behind. Knowing it was easier for them all to order and have one person pay, James placed his order first and then turned to have the others follow suit. He dug out his muggle money to handle the transaction while the rest of the Marauders moved over to the pick-up window to wait for their treats.

“This is so different from Fortescue’s. Why can’t we watch them prepare it?” Peter whined.

“You mean scoop ice cream into cones and dishes and hand it to you? Beats me,” Sirius chided.

“He has a point, Pads. It’s interesting to watch sometimes,” Remus defended Peter’s observation as James chuckled.

“Yeah, beats waiting around having to make small talk with you,” he joked.

“Large cotton candy?” called the attendant from the window.

Sirius leaped up to claim his ice cream, looking like a kid in a candy store upon his return.

“Care to share a lick?” James teased as he leaned in to try and swipe a bite before Sirius had a chance to dig in.

“Not a chance!” Sirius guarded his cone as the attendant called out again.

“Crazy vanilla!”

“Ooh, that’s me!” Peter clapped his hands and went to collect his order.

Remus looked at James and Sirius. “Does he realize that that flavor is just vanilla ice cream but dyed different colors?”

“Shh, don’t ruin it for him, Moony!” Sirius waved him off. As Peter returned to the group, Sirius waved him along. “C’mon Wormtail, let’s go snag that table over there while these two wait for their more complicated orders.”

They took off while James and Remus continued to wait.

“Hot fudge sundae!”

“That’s me!” James jumped forward, approaching the window at the same time as the blonde who was checking him out earlier, and both reached for the same dish.

“Oh! Sorry,” she said, pulling her hand back and tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.

“No, no, go ahead,” James took the dish and handed it to her. “You’ve got good taste,” he added with a polite smile.

“So do you,” she smiled back. “Are you on holiday with your mates?”

Her inquiry takes James by surprise, but he supposes a bit of small talk can’t hurt. “Er, yeah. We’re staying in a cabin on the lake.”

“Oh, us too! On the north or south side?”

“Er, north, I think?”

James wasn’t sure if he was being honest, but it wasn’t like they were going to run into the girl again, so a little white lie couldn’t hurt.

“Same for us! I’m Elaine, by the way.” She held out her hand with the introduction.

“James,” he responded, reaching out to give her hand a quick shake.

“Say, what are you doing tonight? We could get together for a fire or something?”

Unfortunately, it looked like his willing response gave the wrong impression as the girl to the opportunity to ask him out. Her smile had turned seductive and James realized a moment too late that she was flirting. Had he really lost his game so quickly since making a go of things with Lily?

Another hot fudge sundae order was called along with Remus’s chocolate milkshake. James was about to excuse himself to grab his ice cream when Remus appeared out of nowhere.

“I’ve got this, mate.”

“Oh, er, thanks.” James grimaced.

Because Remus didn’t know about Lily, he didn’t know that James needed the ice cream as an excuse to get out of this.

Of all the times Remus decided to urge me on.

“It’ll be a fun time, I promise,” Elaine winked. “Come with me to our table and I can write down our address for you to meet us later. It won’t take long.”

The blonde reached out her free hand to graze James’s forearm and lead him to the table her friends had occupied. He followed since he couldn’t think of a way out of it. At least the solution after this point was easy. He’d thank her, make a false promise to show up, and then never follow through.

He wasn’t expecting Elaine to keep hold of his arm, and the feeling sent prickles of discomfort through the rest of his body. James wasn’t even aware that the girl was still chattering away as he was still thinking of a way to get back to his friends, and hoping Lily was still on the opposite side of town so they wouldn’t get in a row over this.

And that’s when he felt another hand grasp his opposite arm.

The feeling of the second touch was much warmer, searing his bicep as it pulled him away from the blonde with a force he wasn’t used to. As his body spun around he caught a flash of red hair before the second person’s lips were on his, the kiss deep and searing, taking him by surprise.

He was familiar with the feel of Lily’s lips by now, and forgetting that they were in public, James’s body melted into the embrace even though it was far from romantic and comforting. As Lily’s arms snaked around his neck to pull him closer, James realized she was staking her claim and it was hot. He felt the immediate arousal strain against his trousers as the thought of Lily’s jealousy sent a course of desire through his body.

It barely phased him that they were in a very public place, no doubt in front of all their friends. Yet, when the thought finally registered in his lust-filled brain, clarity sobered his body, replacing the desire with a nervous excitement.

So much for keeping things quiet.

When Lily pulled away, her gaze was fierce as she narrowed her eyes and squeezed his arms a bit harder while whispering in his ear, “I don’t want anyone else touching you like I do.”

Bloody hell, would it be improper to disapparate us back to the cabin to have my way with her right now?

Yes, yes it would. Stupid statute of secrecy.

The battle to act on his instincts versus do the right thing warred in his mind.

“And you,” Lily peered over his shoulder to the blonde who was standing behind them, mouth gaping open in surprise, “keep your hands off my boyfriend.”

“Your WHAT?!”

A chorus of shouts and shrieks escaped the mouths of their friends at Lily’s over-zealous warning.

“Looks like it’s not a secret anymore,” Lily shrugged as she pulled James back to their friends.

“Hmm, I was hoping that maybe they didn’t notice the public snog assault you just attacked me with,” James laughed. “You know I wasn’t going to do anything with her, right? She cornered me and Remus of all people helped her along. I couldn’t get away.”

“Yes, yes, I trust you. I just let my temper get the best of me, I suppose,” Lily admitted, though she didn’t seem ashamed in the slightest.

“Don’t worry, I like Aggressive Lily. Maybe I’ll let other girls try and whisk me away more—”

“Don’t you dare,” she warned, though the glint in her eye reassured him that she knew he was kidding.

“I suppose it’s time to face the onslaught of our friends, don’t you think?”

Lily sighed, “You’re sure we can’t just disapparate away instead?”

“I wish, but I’ve got a hot fudge sundae over there with my name on it. If you answer all the questions, though, I might be inclined to share.”

A devilish smirk crossed her lips as she dropped his hand and made a beeline for the table. “Not if I get there first!”

“Hey!”

James followed after her, knowing full well he’d share the ice cream with her regardless as they took turns answering their friends’ questions. Maybe it wasn’t the way James and Lily intended for the group to find out, but it certainly made for a good memory to look back on someday.

[kyuuppi]

Personal Duties

Pairing: Xiao x Reader (gn)

Contents: ...fluff ig?

Word Count: 2.8k

The morning had begun uneventfully, giving no hint to how strange of a day it would inevitably become.

You had risen with the sun, as usual, and taken the time to double check the contents of your inventory before leaving for Liyue harbor. On the way you stopped by Wanmin restaurant for a simple skewer, returning Chef Mao’s enthusiastic greetings as you indulged in the quick breakfast. He rattled on about a few new recipes he wanted to try, insisting that you would be the one to sample them before they became an official part of the menu, and his beloved daughter’s latest adventures in Springvale. Chef Mao was always rather talkative but he was kind and one of the first locals you had become friends with when you first arrived in Liyue.

You finish the meal quickly and thank him before continuing your short journey. As you walked through the open streets of the harbor you breathed in the freshness of the sea, salty and foreign but comforting in the way only a land as mysterious as Liyue could feel. Despite having only lived in the city for a few months, you feel at peace here, safely cradled between mountains tall enough to break through the clouds, dotted by qingxin flowers that seemed to sparkle in the evenings after a good rainfall. The first day you arrived in Liyue you were left speechless, awestruck by both the vastness of the natural valleys and mountain ranges as well as the crumbling ancient ruins scattered across the lands, telling of a time you had only read about as a child in your faded copy of Records of Jueyen. The locals immediately recognized you as an outsider but offered nothing but hospitality, providing useful advice or large discounts on some of their finest products. Thoroughly enamored, you had immediately decided you would stay in Liyue for as long as you could. That same night you had rented a modest room at the highly regarded Wangshu Inn, a decision that cascaded into several life-changing events, including the meeting of a certain long-term resident and fabled legend of the inn: adeptus Xiao.

Meeting and then even befriending Xiao could be described as nothing short of a miracle. Meeting him has been unexpected—an accident really—in which you foolishly ventured to the vacant top floor of the inn in the middle of the night and nearly fell to your death trying to lean over the railing for a better view. Xiao had, very reluctantly, saved your life in that moment, gripping your upper arm firmly the second you realized your weight was tipping forwards. When you looked back to meet his gaze he had advised you, quite harshly, not to be so careless before vanishing without another word.

Naturally, your interests were immediately piqued and you sought out more information about the mystery man on the top floor of Wangshu Inn who could conveniently blip in and out of existence.

Most of the locals provided minimal information aside from a few rumors and the story of a masked figure told by the owner of Second Life. Piecing together snippets of information from locals and a few of the tales you remember from books, you were able to conclude that the man who saved you was not a man at all and rather the revered conqueror of demons and vigilant yaksha, Xiao.

The most useful source of information, however, turned out to be Wangshu’s very own boss, Verr Goldet. While the woman was hesitant to reveal anything at first, she eventually opened up at your persistence to the point it almost felt as if she wanted you to make progress with the adeptus more than you did.

“Rumor has it he becomes a little more friendly when he is presented with a fresh helping of almond tofu,” she had suggested not so subtly one evening.

You had happily taken the hint, pestering Smiley Yanxiao to teach you how to make the delicate dish before taking said dish to the top balcony as an offering of thanks to Xiao.

Expectedly, Xiao did not appear at all that night but you were nothing if not persistent. You returned with a fresh plate of almond tofu every night that week until on the seventh day, as you were nearly dozing off while leaning on the rail, Xiao finally revealed himself to you, if only to ask if you were trying to make a repeat of your near death experience from last time. He claimed he wouldn’t save you a second time but the way his eyes sparkled when he finally received your plate of almond tofu made you think he was bluffing.

After that night, your relationship with the adeptus rapidly developed. You found yourself on the top floor of Wangshu Inn every night, Xiao obediently appearing a safe distance beside you even if he liked to pretend you didn’t exist or that your presence annoyed him. The fact he still showed up and, as evident by the occasional question he would ask in the midst of your chattering, actually listened , was enough for you. He did not share much about himself but you understood well enough that his life was not without significant hardship or suffering and, if nothing else, you liked to think you could at least offer a small distraction to the hardworking yaksha.

“Ad astra abyssosque! Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild,” Katheryne greets as you finally arrive at her desk.

You return your own greeting before discussing the details of the day’s commissions.

It would be an uneventful day, you quickly gather. Two of your assignments are merely deliveries: a mother near Dongsheng’s general good shop needs her daughter to take her medicine but the little girl refuses unless there is a fresh plate of almond tofu to eat it with and a letter addressed to Granny Chu in Gulli Plains that need to be delivered. The third assignment is a complaint about a particularly rowdy group of hilichurls close to the main road. Lastly, a small clan of treasure hoarders seem to have stolen one of Jifang’s most prized artifacts.

Reasoning to yourself that a day of boring commissions is likely better than a day of dangerous commissions, you set off.

You finish the first two assignments rather quickly, as expected. The little girl had excitedly complimented your almond tofu several times, swearing it to be the best thing she had ever eaten while her mother profusely thanked you for getting the girl to finally take her medicine. Likewise, Granny Chu had immediately brightened the second you handed her the small envelope, explaining it was a message from her grandchildren who seemed too busy with their own families to stay in contact very often. The elderly woman insisted you took a couple of ripe sunsettia as thanks for delivering the letter before you were once more setting off, prepared to face the rambunctious cluster of Hilichurls.

It is then that your uneventful day takes a turn.

While hiking through the marsh on the way, you quickly notice how disturbed the land looks, barren of the common lizards, loaches, and small mammals that usually occupy the lands, scurrying away the moment you step too close. Instead, patches of bare land break up the once lush and seamless grass, jagged cuts along the blades as if a strong force had ripped through them. Evidence of chipped cobblestone and patchy grass seem to only get worse as you approach your destination and a small part of you feels anxious, wondering if the camp of hilichurls will be much more powerful than you had expected. Subconsciously, you grip your claymore a little tighter as you walk, glancing around cautiously as if you could be ambushed at any moment.

Instead of a rowdy group of fearsome monsters, you are met with empty space when you reach the location Katheryne had described. The air is eerily quiet aside from the soft chirps of distant cricadas, not a hilichurl in sight as you slowly survey the area. You almost would have assumed you had misheard and went to the wrong place if it were not for the obvious evidence of a large group of hilichurls once residing there. Shoddily built wooden huts and tilted towers surround the open space, the structures seeming barely able to support themselves as half of them had been caved in or ripped apart as if by a tornado. Strewn across the ground near the unlit campfires lie various meats, vegetables, and wheat. A few water pots and cauldrons lay tipped over but still partially filled with water as if they were being used mere hours ago.

Someone had clearly exterminated this hilichurl camp before your arrival, not even bothering to rummage through the chests, undoubtedly filled with valuable treasures, sitting in the far corner of the camp.

You are far from the only adventurer in Liyue. There are others, many of which are stronger and more skilled than you, who are assigned similar and even more dangerous commissions, taking down hilichurl camps like this on the daily. However, Katheryne always keeps meticulous records of who the guild assigns to do what and, in your five years as an adventurer, mistakes made by the adventure guild are almost unheard of. Surely Katheryne didn’t assign you to a task someone else was already assigned to—but then, who would complete something as tedious as clearing a hilichurl camp without seeking the rewards the adventure guild offers, or even the unguarded chests around the camp?

None of it makes sense to you but the sun is already beginning to set and you still have an assignment to deal with treasure hoarders on the opposite side one the city. Reluctantly, you take advantage of the untouched chests and pick up anything of value you find among the wreckage of the camp, not a single hilichurl body in sight.

The oddity of your last commission is nearly forgotten by the time you reach the treasure hoarders’ hideout, chest slightly heaving and thighs burning from hours of hiking through the uneven terrain. Above you, the sky has already turned a deep lavender, a speckle of stars glittering above the mountain peaks. You lean against a large rock at the entrance of the valley, too tired to even consider the glittering tangerine of cor lapis peeking out between the rocks. It is in that moment, as you are catching your breath, that you catch the murmurs of male voices carried with the wind.

“Look—I think that’s them…!”

“A-are you sure? If we mess this up that m-masked man might come back and…”

You abruptly straighten up, brows furrowing at the words and fearful tone of the voices. Why did they sound so afraid? Was it because of this “masked man?” The only masked man you can think of is...

“Just hurry up and give it to them so we can get the hell out of here!”

You are startled into a fighting stance at the sound of footsteps coming towards you.

Finally, a small group of burly men round the corner of the large rock you were just resting against, all wearing the familiar variations of martial arts or farming clothing and masks synonymous with treasure hoarders in Liyue. To your surprise however, rather than angry or smug as the hoarders usually looked, the men before you all appear disheveled and wide eyed, some even visibly trembling as if they’d seen a ghost. All look at you with wide eyes, as if you personally had struck the fear of the archons within them. The largest man, who you presume to be their leader, steps forward and you take a cautious step back, raising your blade in defense.

“No, wait—we don’t want to fight you,” the man quickly says, causing you to furrow your brows in skepticism.

“H-here, this is all of it, we swear!”

You fumble when the man throws a large bag at you, nearly dropping your sword to catch it. The bag itself is unassuming, a brown and slightly stained burlap sack, but you can already guess the contents based on the weight and clunky shape. Glancing up you find the men all staring at you expectantly, seemingly awaiting your approval as if their life depended on it.

Cautiously, you open the bag, finding a single blue and silver goblet inside along with a few bird’s feathers and a silver cricket lined with jewels—Jifang’s stolen artifacts.

“Y-ya see? It’s all there! We learned our lesson—we promise we’ll never steal again,” one of the men stammers, the group already stepping back as if ready to bolt.

“Wait a second—” you try, stepping forward.

To your shock the men startle like wild animals, recoiling from you as if you’ll attack them at any moment.

“H-here, take these too,” one of the men in the back shouts, throwing down a bronze coin. You immediately recognize it as a treasure hoarder’s insignia—something a hoarder only gives up if they have been defeated in battle. And yet, soon all of the men are throwing their own down as well, letting them land around your feet like an offering before the men all turn heel and abruptly book it, running down hill as if an evil spirit were hot on their tails despite your calls.

Thoroughly baffled by the whole exchange you crouch down to pick up the tokens—that is when you realize the land looks familiar. The same patchiness and jagged cuts plague the grass here as it did the hilichurl camp you had seen earlier. In fact, the pattern felt familiar to something you had seen only a few times before: the aftermath of a particularly powerful anemo used by a particularly powerful masked “man”...

“Xiao!”

Your voice echoes slightly around the wooden hallway as you stumble your way to the top balcony, eager to confront the adeptus. Your chest is heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, having practically ran all the way to Wangshu Inn from Liyue harbor after hastily collecting your commission rewards.

The air is silent for a few moments, the only sound coming from your own harsh breaths before a calm, deep voice startles you from behind.

You whip around to face him.

“You’re so noisy, ” Xiao complains, arms crossed and expression mildly annoyed.

While the greeting would be hardly encouraging under any normal circumstance, you feel you have grown close enough to Xiao to understand his words hold no true malice—or perhaps you’re just really good at ignoring it.

“Xiao,” you repeat much more calmly than before. You eye him cautiously as you speak your next words, trying to gauge his reaction.

“What did you do today?”

His expression gives nothing away, remaining neutral and closed off—unreadable—as he replies monotonously.

“The work of the adepti is not something mortals could ever understand nor need to know.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at the typical, very Xiao-like response.

“Well did you happen to decimate any hilichurl camps in the Dihua Marsh? Or mentally scar any treasure hoarders around Jueyen Karst? The hilichurl camp I was supposed to take down was already gone when I got there and the treasure hoarders I talked to were acting really weird—there was also a lot of collateral damage. It almost felt like someone was sabotaging my commissions…”

Xiao’s expression promptly sours, seeming slightly offended by your unspoken accusation.

“I have no interest in the work of an adventurer, ” he spits out, the word itself seeming to leave a bad taste in his mouth, “I am dedicated to my adept duties, nothing more and nothing less.”

Xiao speaks in a way that leaves no room for protest and you finally give up with a small sigh, turning away from him to gaze over the view from the balcony instead. It was true—there would be no reason for Xiao to trouble himself with doing your dumb little daily commissions when he faces much larger, more powerful monsters on the daily. Moreover, why would Xiao target you specifically? As much as you like to think you’re special, you’re really just one of many humans and Xiao does not seem like the type to hold personal vendettas or enjoy watching people suffer. It was foolish to even think he had anything to do with what happened today, you mentally scold yourself.

Despite the summer season, a cool breeze rustles through your hair and clothing, encouraging your shoulders to release a tension you didn’t even realize you had. Your smile at the calmness of the night, oblivious to the watchful eye of the adeptus next to you.

His duty as an adeptus is to defend the people of Liyue but somehow along the way ensuring your protection has become a personal duty he takes very seriously.

[ravennm84]

The Laptop

So, I read a prompt from @charming-mage about Lila’s laptop being damaged and her mother finds out that Lila’s been lying to her and the school. I thought it was a cute idea and the girl would have no way of trying to turn things onto Marinette, so I went with it. Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

It was a silly little accident that ended up exposing everything. Lila had accidentally spilt coffee on her laptop and caused it to short out. Her mother, being terrible with technology, had taken it to a repair shop to see if it could be saved. 

Greta Rossi had taken her lunch break and gone to the repair shop to check on the state of the laptop. The woman behind the counter, Evelyn, gave her head a shake, saying there was too much corrosion and the damage to the motherboard. “Best I can tell, you didn’t unplug it, take out the battery, or tilt it to let the liquid drain out away from the main components. That was pretty much a death sentence to this thing.”

Greta groaned at that. It would be expensive to buy her daughter a new laptop, but it was necessary so she could do her homework and communicate with her friends when akuma attacks were so bad that the school shut down. “Were you able to save anything?” She asked the woman.

“Some things,” she nodded, handing Greta a flashdrive. “Mostly your photos, some saved documents, I also noticed that you were emailing your daughter’s school when the laptop was damaged. I was able to save that conversation for you.”

Her hand froze as she stared at the woman. “Are you sure? I only ask because that wasn’t my laptop, that was my daughter’s laptop.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly before nodding. “It was the first thing I was able to recover since it was mid-correspondence. I assumed it was your laptop since the emails were addressed to you and were signed by you. If that’s not the case… I think you should probably read those emails and talk to your daughter’s principal as soon as possible.”

A little uncertain of what the woman just told her, Greta called the Embassy to tell them she would be taking the rest of the day off. Going home, she plugged in the flashdrive and started looking over the emails that Evelyn had mentioned. Sure enough, they were between Principal Damocles and supposedly signed by her. The first emails were dated the day Lila had told her the school was closed due to akuma attacks, only the email said that she was pulling Lila out of school to go on a diplomatic trip to Achu. 

A little taken aback, Greta looked up the akuma incidents to see just how bad things were. She normally wasn’t permitted to look up these kinds of things at work, nor did she ever have the time since she had to make sure the Ambassador’s days were scheduled down to the minute and all the paperwork was ready to be signed. But now that she had a moment to look, she could see videos of Ladybug and Chat Noir defeating every akuma… and two of the akumas had been her own daughter! This meant that Lila had been lying to her for months!

The next email was from the day of the Scarlet Moth incident, she remembered her co-workers talking about it. That email to Damocles said that her number had changed and gave a new number, which just happened to be Lila’s number.

Another email requesting doctors notes for Lila’s numerous injuries and disabilities: tinnitus, a sprained wrist, a dislocated kneecap, and tonsolatius. Lila had responded with photocopied doctors’ notes that even Greta could tell were fake, and the principal had responded with gratitude for the prompt response.

Some of the more recent emails spoke about Lila being pushed down the stairs by another student and how a family heirloom had been stolen by the same student! Only to be followed by another email requesting another doctor’s note referencing a disease Lila claimed to have that makes her lie uncontrollably. Was the principal a total idiot? 

The most recent email, the one Lila had been working on when the laptop was destroyed, stopped mid-sentence as Greta Rossi told Damocles that she and Lila would be going on another extended diplomatic trip to London, as she would be working personally with the Queen of England. If Greta hadn’t been furious at her daughter before, she sure was now. 

Still, part of her wanted to have some faith in her daughter, so she would set up a test when Lila got home. Which, coincidentally, wouldn’t be long as she had spent a good few hours reading over the emails and she had finally looked into akuma reports that had occurred since they had moved to Paris.

Lila came home about half an hour later, texting on her phone with a cruel smile, but abruptly stopped when she saw her mother. “Mama, you’re home early. Is it because of the akuma attacks?”

“No, mia bella. I was just given the afternoon off, so I decided to spend it with you. How was school?”

Watching her daughter carefully, she saw her change in posture and expression as she began to do the same fake crying she did when she was 6 years old. “Oh Mama, it was terrible. The school got attacked by another akuma and Chat Noir was just so reckless, his Cataclysm destroyed half of the school. It got closed down until repairs can be completed again.”

“Mia Bella! You weren’t hurt, were you?” Greta asked, faking shock and worry. She suspected that Lila had completed the email on her tablet or a computer at school and sent it to Damocles. Now, her daughter was trying to make an excuse as to why she was staying home. But Greta wasn’t about to be fooled again. Oh no, she had given her daughter a chance and now she was going to make her pay. “That’s it, I can’t allow you to keep attending such a dangerous place.”

Lila stopped mid-sob to look at her mother in surprise. “W-what are you saying?”

“Lila, from what you’ve told me about Hawkmoth, the akuma’s, and those terrible vigilanties; I can’t force you to stay in such a dangerous place due to my job. Go to your room and pack, I’ll call your Zio e Zia in Italia and ask if they can take you in while I finish my assignment here in Paris.” Greta continued to watch her daughter as she spoke, her expression becoming more and more panicked and upset as she spoke. Lila had never liked staying with her uncle and aunt because they lived on a farm that was far from everything, had no internet or cell service, and Greta’s brother was of the mindset that if you didn’t work on the farm, you didn’t eat.

“Bu-but Mama, you can’t just send me away like this! What about school-”

“You just told me that the school was shut down again due to the attacks, and after all the other times the school has been closed, I doubt if you’ll be able to graduate with the other schools or even be accepted into lycee at this point. At least if I send you back to Italia, you’ll be safe and be able to go to school without worrying about being attacked.” Reaching forward, Greta took Lila’s hands firmly between her own. “Please understand, mia bella, I am your mother and I love you more than anything. Even if you’re upset with me, I must do what is best for you and your future.”

Lila didn’t bother hiding her scowl as she tried to tug her hands from her mother’s grip. Then the girl really looked at her mother’s face and realized something was wrong. “Mama?”

Greta returned her scowl. “I am very disappointed in you, young lady. I was giving you a chance to come clean and tell me the truth.” Lila’s eyes blew wide open and was about to say something, but was cut off. “I saw those emails between myself and M. Damocles on your computer. Funny thing, I don’t remember writing them. I also don’t recall changing my contact number, going on a diplomatic trip to Achu, or telling him about a bunch of injuries, disabilities, and diseases that you don’t have. I also don’t remember my bosses assigning me to go on another diplomatic trip to London to work with the Queen of England, seeing as I’m not an ambassador.”

“Wait, Mama! I swear, I can explain-”

“You’ve already said enough! You and I are going to the school right now to speak with M. Damocles. You are going to tell him everything that you’ve been lying about and I’m going to have a talk with him about your supposed fall down the stairs since I’m pretty sure you lied about that as well since I was never notified and you were never taken to the hospital.”

“No, Mama! Please-”

“Be quiet! If you dare try to fight me on this or say one more lie, you will be on a plane back to Italia tonight and spend the rest of your school career with your Zio e Zia, understand?

Pouting the entire time. Lila went back to the school with her mother and was forced to confess to everything she had lied about. M. Damocles also ended up looking at the CCTV footage, something that Greta thought he should have done in the first place, and showed that her daughter had not been pushed down the stairs and had planted the not-family-heirloom in the other student’s locker. Greta demanded that he tell Lila’s class exactly what her daughter had done and that he apologize to Mlle. Dupain-Cheng for getting her expelled. She also demanded the student’s information so she could speak with the girl’s parents and force Lila to apologize. Damocles, still thinking that Greta was an ambassador, told her about the bakery and promised that he would alert the class to Lila’s misdeeds before the two Rossis were out the door. 

Greta thought the Dupain-Chengs were wonderful people, offering them pastries as soon as they were upstairs and listened intently to her when she described the things that her daughter had been lying about. When she asked Marinette for her side of the story, Greta got even angrier at Lila. Threatening, bullying, and framing that poor girl when all Marinette had done was tell Lila to stop lying to her friends. Not only had she been lying to the school and her classmates, but all of Paris, if she were to go by the posts on the Ladyblog that Marinette showed her. She had never been more disappointed in her daughter. 

Once they got home, Greta forced Lila into her room and confiscated her phone and tablet. “I thought it was bad when you were lying to the school and playing truant, but now I find out that you are being a bully, and tempting a terrorist to attack you! How foolish are you?”

“Why are you believing that goodie-two-shoes ove-”

“I believe her because there is literally video evidence of you setting her up and trying to get her expelled! After what you’ve done, you’ll probably get expelled!”

“What!? But I didn’t do-”

“You bullied a student, committed months of truancy, forged signatures on doctors’ notes, and changed my contact information so the school couldn’t contact me. Any one of those are grounds for expulsion!” Greta shook her head in disgust when she saw the shock on her daughter’s face. Lila actually believed that she wouldn’t be punished for all the things she had done. Well, that was not something that she was going to allow, and she didn’t trust the principal or Lila’s teacher to do the right thing by her daughter anymore. “You know what, pack your bags right now. I’m calling my brother and putting you on a plane tonight. It’s clear that you need to learn some responsibility, and I highly doubt that you’re going to do that here.”

Lila tried to argue with her, but no amount of begging, pleading, or threats was going to change her mind. Lila was on a plane back to Italy within a few hours and Greta would be spending the next month cleaning up the mess her daughter had made in Paris. She was fortunate that she was able to keep her job. Luckily for her, her boss was a big fan of the Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie and she had told him when she had brought in a big box of the pastries. That smoothed things over a bit, although she was no longer permitted to bring her daughter on assignments anymore. Greta considered that a small price to pay to keep her job, and maybe her daughter would learn that her actions have lasting consequences.

Taglist:

@2confused-2doanything @7-sage-7 @aadnrsstar @abrx2002 @bayball @caffeinetheory @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @classycollectorreviewworld  @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @delightfulcookiesrecipespizza @fandom-trapped-03 @ghostmaster @iamblinkmarvelarmy @interobanginyourmom @izang @jesussavedevenme @kazedancer @kitten12113 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @lilypotter2018 @lunataravler @maskedpainter @nerd-nowandforever @ola-is-dead @pandacatxd @plushbookworm @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @raiderofthelostbooks @ramos123 @rowanrouge @seesea22 @seraphichana @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @the-smallest-kittenz @tishwinchesterannabethjackson @t1dwarrior-of-earth @ulmban @with-forward-motion @wonderbat91939 @zoiechance

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter 11

The big one! This literally took weeks to complete. I wanted it to be done.

We are inching ever closer to the end of this arc. Two more chapters I think.

This one is much longer than the recent ones, but don’t worry. That theme most likely won’t continue.

Warnings: // non-explicit blood, violence, and injury, Major Character Death(s) \\

Scar called upon all of his allies on an exceptionally cold evening, a wicked blizzard was blowing through the server as Scott walked hand in hand with Jimmy through the white-out. Even the desert wasn’t spared from the stirring storm.

A broken line of lights were ascending up Monopoly Mountain, all headed to the same meeting.

When everyone had arrived, warm drinks were passed around. Cleo, Bdubs, Tango, Scott, Jimmy, Grian, and the resident Enderman were huddled in the living area.

Scott was biting his nails, so to speak. He was pretty sure he knew what they were there for; and he was not excited. He sat next to Jimmy and begged that the Red Desert wasn’t going to start a war with Dogwarts. It was going to happen sooner or later, everyone knew that, but Scott felt an ounce of selfishness.

Things were going so well.

He was starting to feel like he was on the wrong side of history. Sitting in that room, Scott had been to Dogwarts after Grain and Scar had tried to burn Skiz’s banner. He was in the room when they started talking about war; and here he was again. In a room talking about war.

He was there for quiet conversations about nonstop threats from Scar and Grian, how they were going to protect themselves, and questioning why it had to be them.

Pizza was dead. The air was unstable, everyone could feel it.

Scar began talking about a plan to trap the Sand Castle. Grian was confident that their new bunker would protect them well enough and had even started moving their things out. Dogwarts was to be baited into the castle where Scar would be waiting for them, to pull the trigger and blow the entire building to smithereens with the Red Army inside.

The thought of it made Scott’s insides turn. He’d already jeopardized his entire mission by falling for Dogwarts, becoming their friend when he was supposed to hate them, he kicked up the dirt when he suggested that Etho’s house was flammable, another slip up and the house of cards he’d built could be pulled down around him.

The whole meeting Scott just sat on the couch feeling sick. Too cowardly to say it was wrong. When he knew it was wrong. Like always, he let someone else steer his life for him. Scott watched as everyone agreed and started leaving. A feeling of distance fell upon him as he walked back home, Jimmy in the lead this time.

Tomorrow. He only had until tomorrow to decide whose side he was on. Scott stared at the ceiling in bed, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing a second of sleep when his pager started beeping. Already knowing who it was, Scott quietly left the house once more.

Dogwarts was eerily silent on top, but a quiet conversation emitted from the living quarters. Every member was sat around the room conversing with each other about their plan of attack. Tango shot him a glance when he entered the room, his eyes went wide and he excused himself from his conversation with Joel.

“Scott?” He whispered scoldingly when he was close enough, shoving the other to the most empty side of the room.

“I can’t do this Tango, I’m telling them,” Scott whispered.

“What? No, no, no, you can’t back out now! My god- Scott how could you even come here?” Tango hissed through his teeth.

“This is wrong! You know it’s wrong! I can’t just stand by anymore, I can’t do this to them,” Scott tried to keep his composure. He pleaded.

“And what about the others? What about you? Us?” Tango asked, his face was pale.

Scott closed his eyes, he’d done everything in his power to give as little information as he could about the Red Desert Alliance to Dogwarts. He wanted to protect people, of course, but he knew there was no escaping the war. Even if he didn’t say anything tonight. Something would happen tomorrow.

His friends were wrong, he’d grown enough to see that.

“I’m sorry,” he said, drowning out the lump in his throat and turning away from Tango, who yanked his sleeve in a last ditch effort. It was too late.

Scott strode over to Ren, tapping him on the shoulder. The Red King looked down, dismissing Etho and addressing Scott.

“Hey dude,” he greeted.

Scott’s hands shook as he formulated his admission, “The Red Desert is going to war with you tomorrow,” he said. Plain and simple.

The horrific shock on Tango and Impulse’s faces could easily be read as concern for the Red Army.

Scott felt like he shrunk to the size of an atom as everyone took turns looking at each other. Ren brought a steady hand to his chin, resting it on his knuckles in thought. The lights glared pure white off his glasses.

He walked to the table in the middle of the room and gazed upon the map, leaning over it to ponder. Scott fell back against the wall, his heart was pounding in his ears. He wasn’t even paying attention when Ren started firing off about their plan of action.

He wasn’t listening when Tango yelled at him on the way home. All he could think about was what the hell he was going to do now.

The jig was certainly going to be up tomorrow. Someone was going to be accused of spying, and when one of them went down, so would the rest.

What would Jimmy think of him? Should he just come clean? Admit to joining the Red Army on accident and let him figure out how he felt about it?

It didn’t matter. Scott had three hours to rest his eyes, and spend possibly the last peaceful night he would ever have with his husband.

The morning was spent mostly in silence. Scott gathered his weapons and stocked his arsenal with potions. He stared at the wall and went over the situation in his head. Preparing goodbyes, apology speeches, everything he could think of that might go wrong.

“Hey,” Jimmy came up behind him, taking a fire resistant potion out of his hand, “I was scared you were gonna drop it if you floated away any further,” he sat down on the workbench.

“Are you scared?” he asked, taking Scott’s hand and interlocking their fingers.

Scott closed his eyes, leaning his head on Jimmy’s shoulder. He nodded his head, not in the mood to lie.

“So am I,” Jimmy confessed, “just promise me something?” he tucked Scott’s stray hairs behind his ears.

“No goodbyes,” he said. As if he was swearing it into existence.

Scott nodded, doing his best to smile optimistically. He held out his pinkie finger in a gesture of promise. Jimmy hooked his own pinkie around it and shook it a bit, leaning forwards to touch foreheads with the other before leaving to get his armor.

They left at dawn and shivered all the way to the Red Desert. It was exceptionally cold that morning. Like the weather was also fighting in their war. A small group of people was gathered at the bottom of Monopoly Mountain. Most of them were sat sharpening their weapons and counting their arrows. Scott spotted Tango and shot him the most apologetic look he could manage before excusing himself to talk to him.

“Tango,” Scott started.

“You know they’re going to be here any second,” Tango said, “so why don’t you tell us about the plan like you did for them?”

Scott was making his mind up about what he should say when an arrow shot into the sand near his feet. He looked up, scanning the tree line.

It was too late.

Everyone gathered on the sand snapped to attention, drawing their weapons and forming a group opposite to the Red Army. Scar was shaking his head, asking himself how this could happen. Scott walked wearily to the frontlines, his free hand was taken by Jimmy.

Everyone in the Red Desert looked at each other, then Scar raised his bow, and that was it.

Scott was jumped by Impulse. Better him than anyone else, even if his blows were a bit harder due to bitterness. They went back and forth stealing glances at the rest of the battle where a few mounds had been constructed to hide behind.

Impulse kicked Scott onto his back and kneeled on his stomach, taking his air. He leaned in, sparing nervous glances to their surroundings.

“I hope you got your fill of righteousness,” he hissed.

Scott gasped for air, “this was going to happen whether I had a part in it or not,” he said.

“How could you?!” Impulse shouted, but whatever else he was going to say was stolen when Bdubs rushed him from the side, throwing both of them off of Scott and into their own cloud of dust.

Scott breathed in a lung full of dust and rolled over, stumbling to his feet and spinning around to gauge the battle. It was a blur. His mind flew to looking for Jimmy. Someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind a shield, where a stray arrow plunged into the wood.

“Where is Grian?” Tango shook Scott’s arm, sweat was rolling down his face through a coat of brown dust.

“I don’t know! I haven’t seen him since..” Scott froze.

Tango seemed to read the pallid expression on his face and nodded encouragingly.

Scott didn’t finish his sentence. He threw himself to his feet and sprinted across the battlefield, towards the border of the desert. A series of blueprints he’d seen all those weeks ago flashed through his head as he ran. Dodging arrows and slamming into his fellow server mates.

Finally, he rounded a barricade and saw what he was hoping not to see. A few hundred yards away, Scar was taking Ren and Martyn in battle. Inching ever closer to a disarmingly empty plot of land. Scott knew that if you weren’t aware, you’d barely be able to see the tiny windows sticking out of the sand.

“Scar!” he called out.

Nobody heard him.

Even if they did, there was no time.

The ground under his feet rumbled, causing him to drop his weapon before a flash of pure light pierced the air. He heard screams for a moment, but they were quickly drowned out by a wall of fire ejecting itself from the ground. Scott was knocked off his feet and launched through the air.

He hit the ground with a painful thud, but he didn’t come to a stop until he’d bounced head over heels a few feet further.

Scott’s nose was pressed into the ground as he rolled around in pain. He pushed himself to his knees with shaking arms.

In front of him was a gigantic, jagged crater carved into the ground. Smoke and fire billowed from its crude maw. Scott coughed and tried to wave away the suffocating ash to no avail. It permeated his eyes and throat.

Scott realized he had been rendered deaf for the moment, and partially blind for that matter. He struggled to his feet and outstretched his arms for balance, falling over twice before his purchase returned to him.

Someone grabbed his arms from behind and spun him around, touching his face and holding him up steadily.

“I can’t hear!” Scott shouted, pointing to his ears in case whoever it was didn’t understand him.

“Can’t see you,” he pointed at his eyes and then at where he assumed the person was.

The person took his hand and formed it into a fist, then interlocked their pinkie with his own.

“Jimmy?” Scott asked, he rubbed his eyes but his hands were taken away. Jimmy positioned his face gently and he felt water in his eyes, washing away the charred debris.

His vision returned to him as the stinging in his eyes subsided. Not so much the same for his hearing, but that was okay. Jimmy hugged him close and looked him over one more time, before tracing the word “stay” on Scott’s palm.

Scott nodded, watching the other go off into the smoke. Probably to help people.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. Through the black smoke came a figure. Scott recognized it as Scar. He was climbing out of the crater. His movements looked painful, he was dragging something behind him.

It became apparent when he hoisted the object over the edge of the crater that Scar was dragging a limp Grian behind him. He laid the other out on the sand, hovering over him with concern etched on his face.

Scott crawled over, shouting to see if Scar could hear him. He pointed at his ears and shook his head. Scott wished he knew human sign language.

Scar turned his attention back to attempting to wake Grian, who wasn’t moving. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. Sensing that Scar was beginning to get very upset, Scott told him to sit back.

First he tried patting Grian on the chest, tapping his forehead, then observing him for any sign of breathing. His lips weren’t blue yet, he was still alive. Scott took his fist and pressed it deeply into Grian’s sternum, then firmly rubbed up and down.

Grian didn’t move at first, then his eyes flew open under his cracked glasses. His arms shot up to cover his chest and he cursed profusely at how he’d been woken up. He’d probably have a bruise for a while.

Scott motioned for him to calm down and breathe. Count to ten and back, and so on. Grian followed his instructions, wiping the dirt from his face and off his probably useless glasses.

Once he was sure Grian and Scar were fine, he quietly excused himself. The dust has started to clear now and the silhouettes of Dogwarts and the Red Desert alike were milling around, nobody seemed to be fighting anymore. Presumably lost without their respective captains. Scott’s ears has started ringing, and behind the din he could hear the ghosts of people shouting.

Scott idly counted the people around him. Some were huddled over a hastily constructed furnace attempting to brew last minute healing potions. As he counted, he kept coming up short. He counted again, and again. Every time there were two people missing.

He turned back to the crater. Whose smoke had started dissipating into the sky. He knew who was missing, and as he stared into the gaping wound of the earth, a hand reached up to the sky. Then came down on the jagged cliff, pulling the rest of the body to the surface.

Ren fell in a heap at the edge of the hole. Breathing hard from his journey to the top. Scott didn’t know whether or not to offer him help. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found, probably crunched beneath the debris of the bunker and the rest of the desert, and he was covered in a layer of collateral grime. It painted his clothes black and made his yellow eyes stand out.

He pushed himself to his knees with a lot of trouble, scanning the destroyed battle field with a mirthful expression until his gaze fell on Scott. The way in which they locked eyes made Scott flinch, he was in big trouble.

His mind told him he needed to diffuse the situation, but he was still without most of his hearing. It would be even harder if Ren had also been deafened. A familiar “why me” rang through his head. The urge to just leave and call everything quits nagged at him.

Ren stood on shaking legs and made his way, as quick as he could manage, into Scott’s personal space, who backed away; but he yanked his arm.

He stared talking very fast. Scott saw his mouth move but barely any noise actually processed in his mind. Scott shouted as clearly as he could that he couldn’t hear. Throwing in a few sorry’s as he went.

Ren dragged his hands from the tips of his ears down his face in frustration, his fingertips left smudges on his cheeks and over his eyes. He began doing sign language, but Scott shook his head.

By now a small congregation of people had started observing the argument from a distance. All of them more privy to what Ren was mad about than Scott was. Heat rose to his face in embarrassment as he tried to talk over Ren, trying to explain himself. Ren had started yelling as if it would help, and the argument was getting visibly heated when Jimmy stepped in.

He pushed Ren back with force so that he stumbled. This seemed to cause a chain reaction. Ren shoved Jimmy back, and they went back and forth until Jimmy threw a punch.

Scott attempt to make them stop, he came between them and ordered them to calm down, but tensions were far too high for any de-escalating. His emotions were verging on a serious breakdown, frantically begging the fight to stop. To let him explain.

Nobody heard him. If they did, they didn’t care.

Ren had taken out his damaged axe and started swinging.

Jimmy kicked Ren in the stomach, the ladder fell on his back and Jimmy kicked him again.

“Jimmy stop it!” Scott shouted, and he could almost hear himself.

Jimmy looked up at him, still standing over the Red King. His eyes were furious.

Something passed quickly in Scott’s periphery, so he turned around.

Behind him, one foot still propping himself out of the crater, was Martyn. A freshly shot bow still aimed in front of him. His eyes were dark and angry as he stared right past Scott.

Scott turned back to Jimmy, whose eyes were fixed and frozen on Martyn. He staggered back, looking down at his chest where a poisoned arrow had pierced his battle-worn chest plate. His hand wrapped around the projectile, and as if he weren’t even thinking, he wrenched it from his flesh.

Jimmy’s expression read as shock. Right before his eyes rolled into his head and he fell like a load of bricks onto his knees, then his back. His fingers were still wrapped tightly around the arrow. Covered in a mixture of blood and sickly green poison.

He fell, and he stayed.

Scott didn’t have a second to process. Not even the thought to scream, reach out, or run came to him. A blanket of nauseating numbness draped itself around him. His mind left him as he stared helplessly. He watched as Jimmy’s lifeless body grew tendrils of thorny vines until it was consumed indefinitely. Only an arrow wrapped in rose vines remained. Light green flowers bloomed and waved in the wind.

And as if he were watching himself on a screen, Scott did something that he didn’t know he could do. That he had forgotten he could do.

A flash of light illuminated the livid grey sky.

Just as fast, Scott had approached Martyn, who didn’t have time to run. He didn’t have time to put his arms in front of his face as Scott’s hand curled into a fist.

He brought his knuckles down on the center of Martyn’s face, an audible crunch sounded out as he was knocked off his feet. A horrified expression painted itself on his face as he held his bleeding nose.

Scott raised his fist again, and as he did a string of dry lighting spread across the sky. He aimed again, and when his fist met Martyn’s face, a bolt of light shot down from the sky. It turned the world into a pure white canvas with an ear piercing roar.

In its wake was a blackened patch of burning sand. Scott and Martyn sat just as they had been before, but Martyn would not get up.

His body lay bruised and burnt, eyes closed tightly in pain. The rose vines claimed his remains quickly, wrapping around a pair of bloodied hands instead of an arrow this time.

Scott stayed bent over where his friend had been. Tears streamed down his face as the static disappeared from his ears. He ripped his arms out of the thorns which tore at his bandages. Blood permeated the wrappings, but he didn’t know how much was his.

He pushed himself away, kneeling in the grave he’d created.

“Major,” someone said, cold and angry.

A hand planted itself firmly on his shoulder, spinning him around forcefully. Scott had only a second to see that it was Ren, before he was hoisted up by the front of his shirt and thrown across creation. Landing hard on his ass for the second time that day. His shoulder made a nauseating POP, hanging limply and awkwardly at his side when he pushed himself up.

Ren placed his foot on his chest to keep him down.

Behind Ren, the greater alliance of Dogwarts had gathered. Confusion and betrayal was etched on their faces.

“Not a word, Major,” Ren said. Low and forced, his eyes were blown wide with something like fear.

Then he raised the handle of his broken axe over his head, the hilt made contact with Scott’s skull.

Lights out.

[apiratewhopines]

Thanks again to @teamhook for the artwork and being the muse for this one! You wanted a movie fic and I did my best 🙂

Midnight

Chapter 7 — The Slipper

Summary: In which our heroine resets the clock

Chapter 7 on AO3 (That’s all folks!!)

“You’ll never know

How many dreams I dreamed about you”

-It’s Been a Long, Long Time, Bing Crosby

It was receiving the invitation to Arthur and Guinevere’s second wedding that did it. Emma’s fairy godfather stayed in touch after their weekend in the country, offering investment advice for her windfall and acting for all the world like her adopted brother. She knew he felt guilty for finding his happy ending at her expense. Despite her reassurances she messed up her chances hours before he came on the scene, maybe months if she were really honest.

Three months ago, she left the estate a little more scarred, a little less hopeful, and much more wealthy. She paid back the money stolen from Granny but couldn’t bring herself to buy a place in the city like she originally planned. Instead, she took the remainder and invested it per Arthur’s overbearing instruction. She doubled it in a week and tripled that figure by the end of the month.

She still wasn’t satisfied, though. Dreams of a certain blue-eyed man haunted her, his last words whispering through her mind like a mantra and a curse. So she found Neal’s trail again and spent the next couple of weeks looking for him in the shadows and muck. She found him mooching off his mother of all people.

All the hate, anger, and embarrassment she buried deeply at the end of their relationship dissipated the moment she saw him. Why had she given him so much real estate in her mind, allowed the ghost of him to rob her of her sanity and potential happiness?

It was with satisfaction at a job well done rather than his impeding downfall that she turned him over to the local authorities and headed back to the east coast.

By the time she arrived, she was richer and even more lonely.

She was listless and finding no reason to stay, Emma accepted Arthur’s latest proposition that she needed to see the world. Using his numerous estates as a guide, she flitted across the globe, experiencing all the world had to offer and looking. Always looking.

It took her longer than it should have to realize she wouldn’t find what she was missing in the new people she met or the natural wonders she explored. The whole time her mind and soul were calling out for a more familiar setting and a dearer face.

Lancelot was right. She was running scared, and the only thing it was going to get her was absolutely nothing.

The handsome, almost homewrecker had not attempted to reach out since their quiet conversation on the beach, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know what he was up to. After calling it quits, he realized the US hadn’t been the best place for him. He returned with great fanfare to France, where he took on the daily running of the family business. He was said to have the Midas touch, working with the locals to improve the processes and products they offered. His vineyard was becoming the trendiest tourist destination in the country.

Not even a month after his departure, the press reported on the fairytale romance of the champagne millionaire and his widowed neighbor, Belle French. The pair’s engagement announcement ran in every major newspaper in the world.

It was quick work, even for Lancelot du Lac. She couldn’t begrudge him, though. He was never truly a bad man, just a regular one who made bad decisions. She could certainly relate.

Cutting her trip short, she returned to the city where it all started, to a tiny loft apartment she rented on a month-by-month basis above Granny’s diner. There didn’t seem to be much point in seeing the world when the only world she was interested in was centered about four hours away.

The news of Killian was more challenging to come by than the other people involved in her charade, but that only made it more precious. A charity fundraiser here, a life saved there, the ever-present and never changing picture on the hospital website she checked so often it was now saved as her homepage. She thought glimpses and scraps were all she was entitled to at first. However, the longer she tried to resist his pull, the more she started to think maybe she did deserve a chance.

Maybe she wasn’t too late.

Staring at the thick cream-colored invitation with scrolling words waxing romance, dates, and times, she came to a decision and packed her bags.

—

—

It wasn’t hard to find the exact location of their meeting. It was burned into Emma’s memory. Their initial encounter cemented as one of those moments that seem routine when they happen but take root in your fate and grow, threading through every aspect of your life until all traces of happiness are tied to one serendipitous second in time.

After departing from Arthur’s estate in a chauffeured car all those months ago, she had returned to this spot and found her Bug right where she left it. Someone, probably the Prince Charming she was determined to break, had filled the tank with gas. So, she bid adieu to Arthur’s employee and drove off into the sunset all alone. Like she did everything.

Nothing had changed about the place in the intervening months. It was thirty minutes to midnight. The dark sky was clear, stars twinkling from space and the moon a tiny thumbnail above the evergreens. She would wait all night if she had to, but sooner or later, she would catch her quarry.

Emma Swan always got her man.

Unfortunately, she didn’t always get him on her first try. She waited for a couple hours the first night, but no black BMW could be seen cresting the hill. Admitting defeat, she went back to her hotel and vowed to try again.

She knew she could have sprung an unannounced visit on him at his job. After all, it wasn’t difficult to pick out his dark sedan in the parking lot when she cruised by the hospital several times a day. Nor would it have been difficult to track down his address and ambush him one evening when he returned home. The idea had a lot of appeal since his place lived in a variety of fantasies involving oversized shirts and pancakes.

Deep down, she knew after she had robbed him of his choice so many times in their brief acquaintance, it would be wrong to show up and act like nothing happened. She needed to allow him to invite her back in or send her away.

God, she hoped he invited her in.

It took three nights, but eventually, she saw headlights. Smoothing down the hem of her black tank top over her skinny jeans, she took a cleansing breath and stepped out into the middle of the road.

She had no doubt it was him, the cautious pace slicing through the night at exactly the same time as before. She could even tell the precise moment he spotted her in the bright lights of his high beams, the luxury car swerving slightly into the other lane. It was less than a minute later he rolled to a stop about ten feet away.

Then, nothing. The silence of a door not opening was deafening.

Maybe this was her answer.

She wished she could see past the glare and through the windshield. Look into his eyes at least once more and tell him everything she figured out over the past couple of months. The same things he had tried to say to her before he left.

Finally, a lifetime later, she heard the door open. She felt every footfall in the far reaches of her heart, each measured step in time with the rapid beating in her chest. She was lightheaded with longing, her eyes frantically trying to adjust between light and dark and make out Killian’s beloved form in the nighttime.

“Fancy meeting you here, Captain.”

There was another long pause and then he stepped into the narrow, car-sized area of light. He was even more handsome than she remembered. The static, professionally staged photo on the website never did him justice in the first place. “Emma, when did you get back?”

She heard the question for what it really was, ‘Emma, why are you here?’

Smiling past her nerves, she took a step closer. He looked like the proverbial deer in the highlights, like any sudden movement would cause him to turn tail and run. She did this to him. It was her fault her cocky Prince Charming looked spooked. “A couple of days ago. I need a ride to Misthaven. I’m late for an appointment.”

“An appointment? It’s almost midnight. I’m getting the strangest sense of deja vu.”

“You see, there’s a man. He’s actually the best thing that ever happened to me. But I felt like I didn’t deserve him, like I didn’t deserve anyone, really, so I ran. Several times. And even though I pushed him away and ruined everything, I need to let him know that he was never nothing. His feelings were never nothing. As a matter of fact, he’s come to mean everything to me, and I wanted to tell him I was sorry it took me so long to say it.”

Taking a step forward, he stood nearly toe to toe with her. His hair was sticking out at odd angles, his face twisted in thought, hands hanging in fists at his side. “Is that so?”

Reaching out, she placed her hands on his shoulders and she looked up into his eyes, whispering, “I’ve loved you since you let me have all the bites with whipped cream. I was just too scared to admit it.”

She waited when all she wanted to do was pull him closer and bury her face in his neck, inhale his intoxicating scent again and taste his skin. She had said what she needed to say, but it didn’t give her the right to waltz back into his life if that wasn’t what he wanted. “Killian, I—“

Her words were cut off by his abrupt kiss. He grabbed her like he was drowning and she was the only thing that could save him. His chest heaving and lips brutal in their quest. He hitched her up slightly, settling her against the hood of his car. He half leaned over her as he continued to explore every neglected inch of her mouth, every lonely corner of her soul. When he finally broke off his passionate embrace, his breathing was ragged and his voice harsh with emotion. “I have big plans for you and whipped cream, love.”

Laughter filled the inches between them, his forehead resting against hers. Peppering his face with soft kisses, her fingertips tracing the line of his jaw, she teased, “Prove it.”

—

The trail of clothes leading to the bedroom remained untouched for days. They survived the early days of their relationship on pancakes, whipped cream, and borrowed shirts.

Over the years, people asked her when she knew Killian Jones was the one. Her answer was always the same.

At the stroke of midnight.

Every night for the rest of their lives.

Note:

Midnight — Info about the movie

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @motherkatereloyshipper @klynn-stormz

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Embrace (Request)

*Not my gif*

Paring: Dean X Reader 

Pov: Reader 

Warnings: comfort from dean, hunt gone wrong, reader crying, LOTS OF HUGS, mentions of Sam (Briefly) 

Summary: The reader come back from a hunt gone very wrong, and all she want is to be in Dean’s arms tonight. Once she makes it to the bunker, she falls into dean’s arms, not being able to keep it together anymore. 

Word Count: 2k 

Masterlist 

Tag list: @akshi8278​, @deanswaywardgirl​

This was supposed to be an easy hunt. One and done type of thing, but that ended shortly after I got to the motel. Dean and Sam already out on a hunt, I decide that it wouldn’t hurt anyone if I went out on my own.  

Shooting Dean, a quick message. “Dean, there’s a hunt about an hour away from the bunker. It involves kids, so I’m packed up and leaving in 5. Love Ya.” I sent the message stuffing my phone in my back pocket.  

Buzzing I pulled it out seeing a message from Dean “Ugh, I wish you weren’t going by yourself, but I understand it involves kids. Be safe and text me when you get to the motel. Love Ya sweetheart.” Well, that had gone by much easier than previously thought.  

So, throwing my bag in the passenger seat of on the many cars I drove off to the motel. According to the article children were going missing in the local town. The thought of so many parents being scared and missing their children was eating at me, so I thought I’d at least try to help.  

Quickly I learned that kids were disappearing, most disappeared near an old shut down mental asylum. Something about kids and wanting to search places that clearly had “DO NOT ENTER” signs on them.  

It was still early in the afternoon so I made my way over to the parents of the latest missing child. They wore worried expression on their faces as they say the quick flip of the F.B.I badge.  

In short, they had said that their son had gone out with a few of his friends. Riding bikes and being a destructive teenage boy. For a few moments the image of Dean being that way crossed my mind, internal smiling at the thought.

I had figured that it was probably a ghost based on the rather odd story the parents retold me. Saying that their son had told them about how the light were flickering and, all the sudden it was really cold in the asylum. It’s the middle of summer, so cold spots are definitely more prominent.  

When I made it back to the motel, I made quick work of trying to figure out where the old mental asylum was, grabbing way to cups of coffee, and junk food from the vending machines I worked until at least twelve in the morning.  

I hadn’t ever realized how much the Sam and Dean’s help was. It was nice to have a tech nerd at your disposal, and a heater next to you in bed every night. Once I had fallen asleep at the dirty small kitchen table in the motel, I thought it best to move to the bed and text Dean.  

“Hey baby, I made to the motel a while ago. You know me got caught up in trying to help. Fell asleep trying to research going to sleep now. Good night baby, Love Ya.” I sent before plugging it in to its charger and falling into a deep sleep.  

When I awake the next morning, I looked over to my phone seeing a new message from Dean. “Sleep well sweetheart. We will be home today, keep me in the loop. Can’t wait to see you.” He messaged with a winky face at the end.  

Rolling my eyes, I got out of the crappy, not memory foam bed. Hearing the slightly creaks and cracks of my bones. Thinking that it would probably useless if i grabbed a shower before going on a hunt, so I opted to grab one of deans stolen flannels, my pants, and my boots.  

Once I was officially ready for the day, I went right back into researching. Finally, hours later I had found an old document that just so happened to have to the address of the mental asylum.  

It was a picture of a few nurses, a doctor standing proud in the back, and a gaggle of children in front of the nurses. Around the doctors' neck hung a stethoscope. It read at the bottom of the picture  

‘Doctor Ethan Zingler, Nurse Betty, Nurse Lewis, Nurse Andrea, with the many mentally insane children. Doctor Zingler holding his prized possession his stethoscope.’ “Fuck yes” I screamed. Damn that was dumb luck.  

Quickly grabbing the car keys, I slammed the motel door, making my way over to the car. Again, I shot him another text, “Alright, found the address for this place. Should be an easy fix. Be home soon, Love Ya.” Sending it before starting to pull out of the parking lot.  

When I made it to the mental asylum, the gates lock was broken making it much easier for me. Making my way into the mental asylum it was quiet, giving me an uneasy feeling. A scream grabbing my attention, but when I made it their nothing, nothing was there.  

As I walked around more, trying to find these lost kids. Turning around at one point, I saw a figure of a decomposed older women. Her white nurses outfit torn at her heart, all the sudden instead of staring at me she was full speed running.  

Cutting into one room I lost her, standing there for a minute. Re thinking everything that I looked up, and the parents had told me. It clicked it was ghosts, they were ghouls. This means that everything I had on me wasn’t going to work.  

Hearing the should of many children screaming at once, I ran towards it. I saw the Doctor his stethoscope wrapped around the necks of one of the children, I ran in trying to get a shot in, but before I could I had they two other nurses hold me down, one trying to stick me with a needle. The other had her very decade hand around my neck.  

I watched every single missing child be killed in front of my eyes, once the doctor was done, he turned looking at the two nurses. They let me go and he slow staked over to me, his hand covering my mouth. I reached down in a quick and swift motion grabbing a long machete knife I had attached to the loops of my pants. In two swift movements I sliced the heads of the nurses off. Looking over at the once respected doctor I chopped his head, it landing on the ground.  

Swiping the blade over my thigh, I slipped it back into its case. I walked out of the asylum flipping it the finger. Getting into the car, it was starting to hit me, that I had watched at least 3 kids murdered in front of me. I was here to fix this, to bring them home safely.  

I drove, no music, no running thoughts in my mind. I just drove, when I finally made it back to the motel, I grabbed a quick shower, trying to wipe away the images of them dying, trying not to cry. “Y/n you’re a big girl. You’re a hunter, fuck you’re with a Winchester get it together.”  I said to myself.  

“Hey baby, how is everything? I haven't heard anything in a while. Sam says that I should stop worrying, but you’re my girl. Text me back please.” Dean messaged me.  

Climbing out of the bathroom, I grabbed my phone, my arms barely keeping the towel wrapped around my chest. “Everything is fine. I’m okay honey. I will be home tops 2 hours, Love Ya.” I sent him back.  

If I broke down now, here, I’d never be able to leave. I need to get dress, I need to get home, I need Dean, now. Wrapping another stolen Dean flannel around me, I could just barely smell his leather, and whiskey cologne on his shirt, I pulled up my sweats.  

Grabbing the rest of my stuff, and throw it into the passenger seat. I walked down to the front desk; I gave to women her keys back. Starting the engine to the car this time I turned the radio on, finding a station that reminded me of Dean. “80′s rock coming your way. Now playing ‘AC/DC Back in black” Taking a deep inhale I back out and drove down the street, radio blasting and windows down.  

“Can’t wait to see you sweetheart!” Dean sent a message as I inched closer and closer to the bunker. Finally, I slowed down and drove down the darkly lite drive way that led to the bunkers garage. As I inched closer, I started to break down, I didn’t want to be a disappointment. I didn’t want Dean, or Sam to see me as a failure.  

I could feel the prickle of tears wanting to escape from my eyes, but shook my head and pushed them back in. As I parked the car, I only grabbed my phone, not really in the mood to look or see anything hunting wise.  

Slowly I made my way to the garage door. Stopping as my hand made contact with the cold handle. I reached for a deep breathe, and opened the door. Conversation still going on, I walked past the library hearing both Sam and Dean call my name.

But the idea of facing them, after everything was too much. I heard the scratch of the wooden chair against the floor. I walked into Deans and I shared room, plopping onto the memory foam bed.  

I heard the bedroom door, slowly open “Y/n?” Dean’s voice bounced off the cinder block room. “Y/n? Are you okay?” He said shutting our bedroom door. “Y/n? Are you hurt? If you’re hurt, I can fix you up, but... but you’ve got to tell me.” He said coming closer to me.  

My breathing becoming harder for me to control. Deans hand landing on my hips first. “Y/n please look at me. You’re scaring me.” I couldn’t take it anymore, I moved quickly making Dean lose a bit of balance before his hand wrapped around my mid-section.  

A breath that I didn’t realize I was holding came out, “It’s okay, you can just cry. I’ve got you, sweetheart.” Dean said rubbing circles into my back. “You’ve got me Y/n. You just tell me what happened okay, let me known that us Winchester deal making didn’t rub off on you.” He said a little chuckle at the end.  

“De... Dean I’m so stupid. I let 5 kids die because I di... didn’t know what I was hunting. I watched the gho..uls kill them. De... Dean Please just hold me. Please don’t thi.. think of me any different.” I said, a few hiccups interrupting me from finishing my sentences.  

I felt Dean take a deep inhale, before speaking, “Damn, Y/n why.. You know what you’re so resilient, so brave, you’re no where to being stupid. Me and Sam got the covered for you. It’s okay, I’m so fucking sorry that I wasn’t with you, I’m sorry, but I’m tell you’  

He said pulling me away from his shoulder. Lightly touching my chin, bring my attention to him. Our eye making contact. ‘Y/n I’m telling you that you couldn’t have done anything more then you did. You’re an amazing hunter, an amazing person, you’re prefect Y/n. I don’t to ever hear you say that you’re stupid, or that you think me or Sam will think of you differently because we just won’t. I love you baby” Dean said.  

I reached up to kiss lips, a small, sparked filled kissed. It was as if that kiss was an okay for me. The okay that Dean was being true with me. “Dean, can.. can we just lay together please? I don’t want to let you go just yet” I asked.  

He gave me short smile, and shook his head ‘yes’. “I love you, sweetheart. Get some rest.” He said kissing my temple, “Love Ya too De.”  I said before the tiredness of crying and the beat of Dean’s heart lulled me into a deep and warm sleep.

Completed 02/27/2021 

[descendantofthesparrow]

Held Back - Harry Hook x NB! Bens sibling!Reader - Part 2

more nb (y/n) aesthetic/mood boards

=

After you chopped off your hair you immediately searched for a hair salon to get it cut properly, not trusting anyone within the castle to not blab to your parents the moment they saw you.

You found one within the city and bookmarked it, scrolling through google to find a haircut that would suit you.

After half an hour of scrolling, you found it. You saved the picture and went to bed, giddy and nervous for the next day.

The next morning, at 6 am on the dot, you texted Lumière to meet you out front and that you needed to go somewhere in secret. To which he replied back with a very courteous ‘of course my lady’, you cringed at that but brushed it off, you knew he would ask questions about you wanting to cut your hair so suddenly so you were debating on telling him the truth.

You tugged on your largest hoodie, one that you had stolen from ben, and grabbed your wallet, phone, and earbuds, mentally pumping yourself up to leave as you put on a beanie and pulled up the hood to hide your hair. You snuck out of your room and to the front yard, the only other people awake were the servants, who either gave you a small bow or a quiet polite ‘good morning your highness’

You breathed a sigh of relief when you made it out front and saw Lumière ready to go with a plain black car, thankfully not one of the limos with all the flags and symbols on it. You hopped down the steps and raced over to him, giving your pseudo uncle a shy smile as he greeted you with a bow and opened the back door.

You climbed in and buckled up, your legs bouncing nervously as Lumière got into the driver's seat and looked at you in the rearview mirror “May I ask where we are going my lady?” you winced slightly at the title but did your best to brush it off, he didn’t know about your “new” situation so there was no reason for him to call you by any other title.

“um, the Charlotte boutique?” you pulled up the address in your phone and sent it to Lumière, who nodded and put it into the car's GPS.

“May I ask why we are going there?” he asked gently, pulling the car out of the castle grounds and onto the main road towards the freeway, the boutique being on the other side of the main city.

“um...” you carefully pulled off your hood and beanie, biting your lip as you saw Lumière make eye contact with your short and choppy hair.

“ah, alright then” he turned back to the main road, and you sighed in relief at the lack of harsh reaction. “what are we thinking for a style?”

You looked up at the car roof and sighed, remembering the reference photo you had found “um…I was thinking of a…mohawk?” you winced, preparing for him to comment on how it was an “unruly boy hair cut” but it never came.

“Sounds lovely, are you thinking of dying it at all?” you thought about and shook your head, dying it seemed too much for right now, you might in the future but you were taking this one step at a time “alright…we should be there in ten minutes my lady”

You winced again, which Lumière noticed and asked you what was wrong “um…could…could we not do the…my lady thing anymore? Or just…more gender-neutral titles…maybe?” you smiled back at Lumière as he nodded firmly and looked back at the road.

“of course, your highness, it's no problem at all.” You leaned back into your seat, much more relaxed than you had been only minutes ago.

It was nice to know that if anything, you had one person in Auradon that would be by your side.

-

Ben blinked in shock as you returned home hours later, your once long hair now shaved at the sides and the top and back in a fluffy mohawk/mullet. You locked eyes with him and froze, grip on your multiple shopping bags tightening as you stared at each other.

Then Ben softened to a smile, tilting his head “I like it” you sighed in relief and smiled back, letting him grab some of your bags and help you take them to your room.

Ben sat on your bed as you took out your new clothes and tossed them in your laundry basket to be washed. “so, you cut your hair and went clothes shopping?” he pulled out a large black button-up that had long billowy sleeves. “why? Isn't your closet overflowing with stuff?”

“um-well” you stuttered, tripping over air as you scrambled to come up with an answer that wouldn’t give everything away, you weren't ready to tell Ben everything. “my-my hair? I got-I got gum in it and had to cut it short, I just thought that trying something interesting would be better than just doing a pixie cut?” you grinned, sighing in relief as Ben seemed to take that as truth and set the black shirt back down “and the clothes?...just felt like it?”

Ben nodded again and stood, patting your shoulder as he passed you “alright then, oh, by the way, the others and I are going to the beach today if you want to come?”

You looked off for a moment before shaking your head “nah, im okay, I've got plans”

“suit yourself” he shrugged, turning and walking out of your room, closing the door behind him.

You sighed, flopping down on your bed and clutching onto the hook charm “this is going to one hell of a rollercoaster isn't it?”

-

It…yeah it was.

As soon as your parents saw your new hair-do, your mother had screamed and rushed toward you, running her hands through your now short hair. As she freaked out Ben came to your rescue and pulled her hands away, gently nudging you behind him and, essentially, told her to calm her butt.

“it's just hair, it grows back” he had said, glaring at your parents as if daring them to talk down to you just for your new hair.

“but-but it…not fit for a princess” your mother tried, frowning as Ben glowed and shook his head.

“it's hair! It's (y/n)s hair! That means it's fit for a princess! Leave it or I’ll shave mine all off! And yes, that is a threat!” your parents stared in shock as it was the first time he had truly spoke up against them, other than when he had first brought the vks over.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the room, taking you to the core four and letting the two of you relax with them.

“I mean, it's just hair?! Why does that crap matter so much to them?!” Ben ranted, walking back and forth around Mal and Evie's room while Evie played with your hair.

"because they are old-fashioned and think short hair equals a dude?” Mal drawled, looking up from her sketchbook and giving a sympathetic smile to Ben “which by the way (y/n)” she turned to you with a grin “I think it looks great”

“agreed!” Evie chirped, fluffing up your hair as you smiled at Mal. “oh! Would you ever consider coloring it?! I think maybe a blue or a lavender?”

“maybe later” you hummed, leaning into Evie's hands and closing your eyes “im still getting comfortable with everything”

“everything?” Ben asked, stopping in his tracks and staring at you confused “but all you did was cut your hair? Why would that be such a big thing?”

You winced realizing you had possibly said too much, opening your eyes to see the vks and Ben staring at you “(y/n)?”

“um-well...” you pulled yourself out of Evie's lap and stood in the middle of the room “I-…I recently discovered something about myself…I was kinda planning to tell yall a bit later after I had gotten more….knowledgeable with it? But…um” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes and facing towards the floor “im non-binary”

It was silent for a few moments, and panic started to set into your bones the longer the silence rang in your head.

“cool” Mal finally spoke, your eyes snapped open to see the vks smiling at you “what are your pronouns?” you sighed in relief and grinned at them.

“They-them, I tried out the other ones, and…they didn’t feel right, so they-them” Evie nodded, leaning over on her bed to pull out her sketchbook and colored pens, and started working on something “um-what are you?”

“im making some gender-neutral looks for you~” she sang, drawing up your form on the blank page and setting some notes next to it. You leaned over the sketchbook and smiled, nodding at Evie.

“thank you but I already bought some clothes that kinda match what I’ve been wanting to dress like-“ Ben suddenly interrupted, waving his hands about.

“wait wait wait….what the heck is Non-binary?” the vks gave you a sympathetic look, Mal and Carlos taking the chance to tell Ben about gender identities.

After a couple of minutes of explaining, while you and Evie talked about you developing your own style instead of the “princess” one your parents had forced you into with all the yellow and blues, Ben had finally turned to you and held out his arms, a smile on his face.

You stood and leaped into his hold, burying your face in your shoulder “no matter what I’ll always support you, you’re my twin, and I’ll always be here for you” you let out a soft sigh and melted into his hug, grinning as the four vks joined in to make it a group hug.

“I love you (y/n)”

“I love you too Ben” you sighed, happy that you had such a supportive brother, and his friends were the same.

-

You missed Harry terribly sometimes, standing on your room balcony and staring out to the isle with sad eyes, gently rolling the necklace within your fingers. “one day Harry” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the charm and turning to go back into your room “one day you’ll be here with me, I promise”

-two years later-

Harry stared up at the chip shop TV in awe as a completely transformed (y/n) smiled on screen, the long hair he had once tugged on was now in a short fluffy mohawk, chokers and necklaces decorated their chest, multiple sets of rings adorned their fingers and a new skeleton hand tattoo detailed their left hand.

They had long abandoned the style of pastel dresses covered in lace and gems, switching them out for darker colors of baggy halfway buttoned-up shirts with flowy sleeves that they tucked into their high-waisted pants that were ripped showing the fishnets underneath, and Bright yellow heels for dark blue sneakers with gold detailing.

And for their 18th birthday, they had switched out their delicate blue and gold tiara for a thick golden crown detailed with leaves and sapphires. (y/n) had come out to Auradon about a year after their discovery on the isle, Ben and the core four being audibly supportive of them and non-verbally daring anyone to say anything about (y/n) being non-binary.

(y/n)s single step had created a waterfall, multiple kids in Auradon stepping up and coming out to their parents, some luckier than others in their family's reaction, but thankfully Ben had already created several lgbtq+ shelters in support of his twin and anybody that was like them just in case something happened to the more unfortunate children whose family had reacted…badly.

Harry focused back on what the reporter was saying, keeping his eyes on (y/n) as he did so.

‘and right now, the vks are on their way to pick up the next lucky group of the villain kids! King Ben and Prime (gender-neutral term for prince/princess) (y/n) are accompanying them as well! We all anxiously await the arrival of the four new villain kids!’

Harry perked up at the mention of you coming along with the vks and Ben to pick up the new vks, he looked to Gil, who nodded and eagerly waved Harry away.

He had told Gil a little while after Mal and the others escaped with Ben, and Gil noticed something ‘off’ about Harry and wouldn’t stop pressuring him about it. Gil took it oddly well, being the son of Gaston and Harry being in love with the child of Beast and Belle, and had taken to making designs for Harry that matched Auradon’s royal aesthetic. Which luckily have never seen the light of day.

Harry grabbed his hook and hat and bolted towards the main street where the vks would be picked up. He kept to the shadows as his heart sped up as he got closer to the main street and his darling.

-

You hopped out of the limo, looking around for those hypnotic ocean eyes as Ben and the others greeted the vks that surrounded the main street.

A flash of red caught your eye, and you gasped happily as you made eye-contact with Harry, grinning as a smile bloomed on his face as he realized it was you. You hit Ben's shoulder and sneakily gestured toward Harry.

You had told Ben about Harry, not everything but you told him about the connection you felt with the pirate, and he had taken it oddly well ‘(y/n) im engaged to the person who spelled me to get the wand, you can go date the pirate who kidnapped me’ (in this universe Mal actually told Ben the real reason she love-spelled him because that whole thing is bullshit) he had told you with a dry tone. Ben gently pushed you towards Harry and stood in the way of the core fours vision so you could safely make your way over to your boy.

Harry looked between you and Ben for a moment slightly confused but was too happy to dwell on it. He opened his arms as you leaped toward him and pulled you into the alley just off the street, hiding the two of you from the crowd.

“Darling” Harry breathed, pulling you into his chest and burying his face into your hair, pulling back as your crown got in the way and instead pressed his cheek to the side of your head. “I've missed yeh”

“I've missed you too Harry” you sighed into his neck, bringing your arms up to grip onto the back of his jacket “how have you been? Has everything been okay?”

Harry was silent for a moment, just wanting to hold you but he obliged to your ‘request’ “home life could be better but as a whole it’s been much better since yeh started that whole ‘basic necessity's’ program” Harry chuckled, furrowing his brows as you laughed slightly uncomfortably “darling?”

“that’s amazing, im glad that worked out for you all, I wasn’t ever able to get a personal look here to make sure it was going well but im glad it did” you smiled up at him, letting go of his jacket and reaching up to cup his jaw “has anything else happened that I should know about?” Harry squinted for a moment then shrugged, hands dropping from around your shoulders to your hips and squeezing them.

“Not much really, im more interested in what's been going on with yeh?” you blew of a lock of hair out of your face and sighed “that bad huh?”

“not bad but” you sighed, taking off your crown and rubbing your thumb on one of the gems. “my parents are still shit about my pronouns and things like that, Bens awesome about everything, the core four are supportive, Ben knows about us and is fine with it…basically just one rotten egg with millions of fresh flowers” you shrugged, giggling as Harry made a face at your metaphor. Harry sighed as the crowd began to cheer.

“I think yeh have ta go soon darling” you felt your phone buzz in your pocket and took it out, sighing at the text from Ben. “Unfortunately yes” you muttered, gasping slightly as Harry leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You hummed happily and pressed back, wrapping your arms around his neck as Harry picked you up.

Another text from Ben and the two of you separated, pouting as you needed to leave then and there before someone came looking for you and found you with Harry.

“I’ll see you later, I promise” you whispered, pecking his lips one last time as Harry set you back on your feet and carried your jaw with his thumb.

“hopefully” Harry whispered back, giving you a small sad smile as you turned and ran back towards the main street. He silently followed you and watched as you, Ben, and the vks climbed into the limo and drove off. He took to the rooftops and followed the limo as it drove towards the barrier, laying low as it opened and the limo drove through.

Harry gasped in fright as Hades burst through the watching crowd and stuck his hand through the closing barrier, ripping it open with his hands and sticking his head through.

Harry watched in horror as you, Ben, and the boys rushed towards Hades and were knocked to the ground, steam rising off your chest. “no” Harry whispered, about to leap off the building and rip Hades away from the barrier when Mal transformed into a dragon and went against Hades, taking a minute before she finally blew him back behind the barrier.

you made eye contact with Harry as Jay helped you stand, giving him a soft reassuring smile as he stared in concern.

Harry sat back on his heels as the limo drove away from the isle, his nose burning with the realization that it might be forever before he saw you again.

-

It was only a day later when Harry saw you again. Mal had quickly ordered everyone to search through the castle for you after they had defeated the knights, just to make sure you weren’t hurt.

So Harry walked through the east wing, passing sleeping guards and staff. He stopped at a set of double doors; your name engraved in gold cursive.

He took a deep breath and pushed open your door, gasping in horror as he spotted your body on the floor, a plate shattered next to you. “darling” he gasped, rushing to your side and dropping to his knees “Darling wake up”

He gently picked you up, your head resting in the crook of his elbow, his other arm wrapping around your waist. He pressed his forehead to yours, whispering again “darling please, wake up”

He heard two people enter the room behind him, and he turned to see Uma and Gil staring at him slightly confused before they saw (y/n), Gil's brows furrowing in concern while Uma’s shot up in shock “uhhhh, what's going on?”

Gil took the chance to explain what had happened between Harry and (y/n) while Harry turned back to (y/n) and shook their shoulders lightly in an attempt to wake them.

“….so you slept with (y/n) not hours after we kidnapped their brother…then fell in love with them right after it?...you know what im not even gonna try to understand it, there are so many times that shit happened…well the falling in love within the hour of meeting them part not the sleeping with them first” Uma muttered, walking towards Harry and (y/n) and kneeling next to them, placing her hand on (y/n)s forehead. “spelled, no way to wake ‘em up unless we beat Audrey or…true loves kiss” Harry and Uma locked eyes, Uma smirking as Harry turned bright red.

Gil snorted lightly as the two stared each other down, Uma challenging him to try to prove her wrong, and Harry wanting to remove the embarrassment he felt from Uma’s teasing.

“fine” Harry finally muttered, looking away from Uma to face (y/n)s sleeping face “just…don’ look?” Uma laughed for a moment and stood, walking over to Gil and pushing him out of the room, closing (y/n)s door behind her. “get to smooching lover boy!” Harry let out an indignant yell, pouting at the closed door as Uma continued to laugh to herself.

He sighed, shaking his head to rid of the frustration and to sike himself up to just kiss (y/n), he had done it a thousand times, hell he had kissed them after eating them out, what was different about this?

It would determine if their relationship would ever go somewhere other than a fling of passion.

Harry took a deep breath and leaned down, pressing a soft quick kiss to your lips. He quickly leaned back, watching you with slight panic.

After a few stressful moments, and Harry's heart sinking to his feet, your eyes fluttered open. Harry sobbed in relief, gasping slightly as your eyes blew wide-open and you yelled his name in excitement, leaping from his hold and tackling him. “Harry!”

He breathed out your name, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and rocking the two of you back and forth “Darling” he sighed, yelping slightly as you pulled back and grabbed the back of his neck, pressing a hard kiss to his lips. He happily closed his eyes and pressed back just as hard.

He heard the knob to your door start to turn so he quickly pulled apart and turned towards the door, rolling his eyes as Uma gave him a shit-eating, know-it-all grin. “told you~” Uma sang, raising her brow a bit as (y/n) grinned at her “what?”

“nothing, just happy to see you’re not dead” (y/n) laughed, getting out of Harry's lap and bolting to their dresser, getting out their black baggy button-up, high waisted black cargo pants, and rushing into the bathroom

“uh, darling?” Harry asked as he stood, “what are yeh doing?”

“getting changed! These party clothes ain't gonna cut it to held beat Audrey!” Uma smirked at the bathroom door and turned to walk out of the room.

“I like them”

“good” Harry smiled, crossing his arms and leaning against your bed-frame to wait for you.

-

You stared at Audrey’s sleeping face as Evie pulled the blankets over her limp form “she's slipping away” Evie muttered to Mal, who let her head drop in remorse.

“I did this” Mal muttered, looking back up at Audrey “Audrey wouldn’t have done any of this if I had just gotten off my high horse and apologized”

“it's both our faults” Ben muttered, sitting at Audrey’s feet and putting his hand on Mal's shoulder “we should have properly apologized to her a long time ago” he looked back at Audrey with sad eyes “I just…I wonder how much pain she must have felt to do something like this? How much she bottled up?”

“a lot” you muttered, leaning on your hand as Mal and Ben looked at you “you forget Audrey’s been my friend since we were kids, she told me almost everything, I didn’t tell you because she asked me not to, and I wasn’t going to ruin that trust” Ben sighed and shook his head.

“even so, I've known her my whole life and it somehow never occurred to me that she had gotten hurt by what had happened two years ago…and now we might never get to properly apologize” Mal closed her eyes in slight frustration as she realized what she was going to have to do.

“There might be a way” Mal sighed, planting her elbow on the bed and leaning her face into it “the ember is what rebounded the sleeping curse on her…maybe the person who can use its full abilities can remove it” Evie gave Mal a look as Ben looked at her slightly confused “maybe Hades can wake Audrey up” Ben stood at that, shaking his head in denial.

“Hades? No, he wouldn’t do it.” Mal sighed and looked at Ben pleadingly “I wouldn’t risk it” Mal glanced at Evie for a moment before looking back at Ben.

“he might…do it for me” Ben gave her a confused look “he’s…he’s my dad” you rolled your eyes slightly and turned, walking past Uma and sitting next to Harry, who sneakily wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side.

“you-he…” Ben went silent for a moment, staring at Mal with his hand over his mouth “that’s a lot to take in…but…are you sure he won't try anything.”

“im not…but…he may be our last chance” Mal stood, giving one last remorse filled look to Audrey before walking over to Ben and grabbing his hands “ I don’t trust him and I wouldn’t suggest this if we had another option but…he’s our only hope in waking Audrey up…”

She and Ben stared at each other for a moment before Ben closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest “…I’ll have to send guards, to go get him” he muttered in defeat, perking up slightly as Uma turned to him slightly.

“maybe I can hitch a ride” Mal furrowed her brows in confusion, Harry sitting up slightly from next to you. “the isle is my home…someone has to be there to protect it”

She and Mal stared each other down before Mal nodded “you’ll do a much better job than me” Mal smiled as Uma snorted a bit and nodded.

“of course I will”

“well, then you’ll need yer first mate!” Harry announced, standing from the couch and walking over to Uma, putting his hands on her shoulders and smiling at her. Ben looked between you and Harry, his heart sinking as you looked at your feet, the hook charm dangling from your neck.

This is what they were doing…with closing the barrier for good…ripping away his twins love and dooming those, he looked at Harry and Uma, who didn’t deserve to be on the isle to a life of pain and exile.

He had to think of something, if not for the innocent kids that were on the isle, then for his twin.

A few minutes later, as everyone made their way out of the room to make preparations to either go back to the isle or head home, Ben stopped you and nodded towards Harry. “you’re not gonna let him leave without saying goodbye, are you?” he whispered, giving a painful smile to you as your red-rimmed eyes looked at him “…you do have till tomorrow morning you know…” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and followed after Mal, who was following Uma outside.

You and Harry made eye contact, and Harry made his way over to you and intertwined his hands with yours “im sorry darling” he whispered, biting his cheek as you let go of his hands and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug “but I can't let Uma go back there alone…I jus’ cant”

“I know” you sobbed into his chest, burying yourself deeper into him as he hugged you back tightly “and I don’t blame you for that but…we’re never going to see each other, again are we?”

“…I don’ think so” Harry whispered, pressing his cheek to the top of your head and closing his eyes “im so sorry my love”

You sniffed and pulled away from Harry, remembering Ben's mention of having till the next morning. You reached up and cupped the back of Harry's neck, pulling him down towards your lips and whispering against them.

“We do have till tomorrow morning…one last night?” you felt Harry smile against your lips, and without an answer, he pressed a soft, yet passionate kiss to yours.

He pulled back a moment later, his eyes hazy “one last night” you tugged him outside, running past the others and towards the castle, leaving almost all of them in confusion. Ben and Uma shared a look and decided to explain to the others, Ben, Carlos, and Mal's cheeks turning dark red as Uma retold Gil's version of the story (which included the fact that the two of you had…well fucked)

“I did not need to know that part” Ben groaned, covering his face “I would like to keep the image of my absolutely innocent twin who doesn’t even know what sex is please”

“too bad beasty boy” Uma cackles, patting his back as they walked towards the castle to wait the rest of the night out “Harry and (y/n) fucked and you won't ever be able to forget that”

“no, I will not” Ben sighed, looking up to the sky “I thank whoever put (y/n)s room in the east wing and mine in the north so I won't be tortured with any noises”

“and im thankful we all live with Evie so we won't even hear you complaining about it” Carlos snorted, the core four and Celia, turning to head back to Evie's house “bye”

Ben and Uma waved them off. Ben sighed and turned to Uma “there’s some space in the north wing, you and Gil are welcome to stay until tomorrow” Uma sighed and nodded, crossing her arms.

“I’m going to go find Gil, then I’ll head over”

Ben nodded, the two separating as Ben went back to the castle and Uma went off on a path in search of Gil.

-

You stared up at Harry's serene face, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he slept. You lifted your head from his chest and glanced at your clock, frowning at the time.

It was already five am…and Ben would be sending the guards at six. You sighed and lifted yourself from on top of Harry's body, slipping out of bed and walking over to your window, staring down at the gardens that twinkled with fireflies “darling?” Harry's raspy voice suddenly sounded from behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his chest “are yeh okay?��

“it's not fair” you whispered. Turning in his hold and burning your face in the crook of his neck “after today…I won't ever see you again, and those kids” you paused, chewing the inside of your lip “those kids will be doomed to a prison just because Mal couldn't face the fact that shit happens and locking the door and throwing away the key won't solve anything, they wouldn’t even listen to me when I tried to suggest hiring some people inside the barrier to be security or something” Harry smiled against your hair.

“that’s a wonderful idea darling…im sorry they didn’t listen to you” he whispered back, raising his brow as you pulled away from him and started to tug at a ring on your left hand.

You finally pulled it off and grabbed Harry's left hand, sliding the ring onto his ring finger. “wha’ is this?” he chuckled, flexing his fingers to test the feel of the ring, it was somehow a perfect fit.

“it’s the ring that states me as royalty” Harry looked at you with wide eyes “it was made from a piece of my crown, the one Ben made me, I have one from my original tiara but that one didn’t suit me…ever” you grabbed his hand and rubbed your finger against the rose engraving on the gold ring. “I just…wanted to give you something that…symbolized me…you gave me your necklace” you lifted the hook charm necklace; Harry's eyes being drawn to it immediately “so I wanted you to have something similar.”

Harry twisted his hand around to grab yours and brought it to his lips “I’ll treasure it forever” he whispered, eyes burning into yours. He paused for a moment, then bright up this left hand and took of the red ruby ring on his pinkie finger, gesturing for you to lift your left hand “I know yeh already have the necklace but tha’ was more just something for yeh to remember me by…this…means so much more.”

You smiled as he slid the ruby ring onto your ring finger, the band was black and twisted around with engravings “it was meh mothers ring” you looked at Harry, lips dropped apart in surprise “when she died” he paused for a moment “she gave me h‘er ring…told me ta give it to the person that I wanted to spend the rest of meh life with” he lifted your hand and pressed his lips to the ring “and I know we’ve really only spent three days together but I couldn’t even dream of being with someone else” you ripped your hand from his grip and tossed your arms around his neck, pulling him into you for a kiss.

Harry's eyes closed and he wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off your feet. “I love you” you whispered as you pulled apart, a tear trailing down your cheek.

“I love yeh too”

He set you back on your feet and pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes again. “I am yours forever my darling” he whispered, biting his lip as he felt a tear drip off his chin.

“and I am yours” you whispered back, leaning back in to press a soft kiss to his bruised lips.

-

“announcing the arrival of their royal highness; (y/n)!” Lumière called out for you just after your parents had already been announced and were on the balcony. You took a deep breath, spun Harry's ring, and stepped out into the light, bowing slightly as the engagement party crowd applauded your arrival and bowed to you.

You climbed up the steps of the balcony and stood next to fairy-godmother, refusing to look your mother in the eyes as she pursed her lips at your attire.

You had decided to forgo the pastel party dress your seamstress had offered you, you had instead hired Evie to make your outfit for you. It more resembled the casual uniform of a naval captain with gold shoulder pads with golden ropes draping around your left arm, the jacket was draped over your shoulders and held together with golden chain clasps on the lapels. You wore your usual black flowing shirt with dark blue pants and a set of gold chains hanging from your belt.

You tapped your boots on the ground as Ben and Mal were announced and started to make their way up the stairs.

You bowed to them, Ben reaching out to tap your crown, making you smack at his hands playfully. You zoned as Ben and Mal started to talk about Mal. Raising your glass absentmindedly as the others around you did the same.

“I can't” Mal suddenly said, setting her glass down and looking down at her hands “I can't be Auradon’s queen when I lie to the people within its kingdom” the crowd murmured in confusion, Evie and the boys raising their brows in the realization of what Mal was talking about.

“Mal?” Ben asked quickly, placing his hands on Mals. She looked up at him with sad eyes.

“im not saying that I don’t want to marry you, im just….I can't be a good queen if I can’t even be a good friend” she whispered to him, turning back to the crowd and taking a deep breath. “we made a decision, a stupid one that could have costed the lives of so many innocent people, to close the isle barrier forever. And it was my idea”

Dizzy and the twins looked to each other, hearts sinking as they realizing what the barrier closing meant. “and I regret making it, and  I ignored the suggestion of (y/n)” she gestured back to you, making your brow raise “who had a much better idea of hiring those within the barrier to be security. I let my pride get in the way of the safety of both Auradon and the children of the isle who don’t deserve to be punished for the act of one person. And...I've learned that Evil…can come from anywhere, and just because the barrier exists that doesn’t mean bad things are never going to happen again, because that’s actually impossible.” Mal looked over at the isle, the image of Uma fighting alongside her flashing in her mind “and good, can come from anywhere too…heroes don’t just exist here in Auradon, they can be anywhere, even if we don’t see it the first time. Without Uma and her pirates Auradon would be gone….without their help…Audrey would be gone too.” Some of the crowd turned to Audrey, who bit her lip and nodded slightly to herself.

“and without a certain someone, who I thought was one of our enemies…who helped someone who I hold very dear to me, realize who they really are” Mal looked back at you with a watery smile on her face, you smiled back “without that person…without Harry…we wouldn’t have (y/n) being the best version of themselves that we have today”

You quickly wiped away the tear that was trailing down your cheek and looked back at Mal and Ben. “what-what im saying is…we-“ she guested to her and Ben then around at the crowd “shouldn’t decide who is good and who is evil, we shouldn’t decide who deserves to be on the isle and who doesn’t. because the way things were going…there would be so many kids who would turn their backs on good…because good turned their backs on those kids…and I became one of those people who turned my back because it was convenient…and I hate it.”

Mal took another deep breath, looking down at her friends, then Ben, then back at you. She shared a nod and turned back to the crowd “I think… it's time we change the barriers rules” Ben grabbed onto her shoulder and turned her towards him a bit.

“We can't and will never know what's truly going on in the heads of the vks, and we don’t know if any villains, who have been on the isle for 22 years, have changed…it shouldn’t be up to us to dictate their lives, because that just makes us exactly like them, or the people they were years ago…the barrier must be changed.” Beast tried to butt in, but was silenced with a glare from you and Ben.

Ben nodded at Mal, turning to the crowd. “I choose to be a king that moves forward, just as I did 2 years ago when I declared my first proclamation for the original villain kid transfer…it’s time to look past the wrongdoings of those who have long since been condemned for their crimes, it’s time to look forward and give open arms to those who want a chance…” Ben turned to you and held out his arm, bringing you forward to his side.

He leaned into you a bit and whispered “what exactly should we do with the barrier?” you thought for a moment, then smiled.

“just…edit it a bit” you whispered back “the barrier should only let those through who really want a chance” Ben nodded, turning back to Mal and smiling at her. She grinned back and nodded, having heard your idea loud and clear and thinking it was a great idea.

“The barrier will no longer keep everyone trapped inside, now; it will let those who truly want a chance to live free to make their own choices in life through, to anyone on the isle” Ben announced loudly, smiling as the crowd cheered, Evie and the boys easily being the loudest.

Mal quickly gestured for her friends to join the three of you on the balcony, Jay grabbing Evie's hand and pulling her to the stairs, Carlos close behind.

Ben took a step back to let the three get close to Mal, you were about to follow but Mal grabbed onto your hand and pulled you into her side “you deserve to get on this too” she whispered, tapping Harry's ring with her thumb.

FG walked up and handed Mal her wand, nodding at Mal with a small smile. Evie and the boys crowded around you and Mal, Jay's arm going around your shoulder.

Mal took a deep breath, gripping the wand carefully “to all who want a second chance” she glanced at the four of you, leaning into Ben as you all reached around her and grabbed onto the wand with her.

“your time has come/ come out and dance!”

With a beam of multicolored light, the barrier shimmered and the dark clouds covering it disappeared, a white brick bridge-building between the two ports.

Mal jumped in place, grinning at her friends and turning to hug you. You let out a small gasp of disbelief.

It happened, it really happened, the barrier, not gone, but changed, anyone who wanted to live in Auradon was welcome to do so. You saw Dizzy bolt towards the isle as two women, one dressed in pink, the other green, ran towards her.

“auntie anna, mama!” the two women cried out for Dizzy, opening their arms as the young VK leaped towards them. Moments later a couple more kids, Dizzy’s siblings and cousins you guessed, crowded around the three and joined into a group bug. Mal and Evie laughed at the scene, Mal turning and handing the wand back to FG and bumping your shoulder, nodding at the red-clad pirate that was running down the bridge.

You gasped and pushed past everyone, hearing Ben tease you about Harry to the others.

Your feet slammed against the bridge as Harry got closer, his bright blue eyes widening with joy as he forward to run faster towards you.

“Harry!” you screamed, feeling your jacket fly off your shoulders as you skidded to a half-spot and leaped into Harry's arms. He twisted on his feet and spun the two of you around, laughing into your shoulder as he did.

“(y/n)” he yelled into your shoulder; you could feel tears soak into your shirt but you ignored it. As Harry set you back on your feet you grabbed the back of Harry's neck and pulled him into a hard kiss.

You heard Uma and Gil whoop as they ran past you, making you and harry pull apart and flip them off.

Celia and her dad ran past the two of you a moment later, Dizzy squealing a bit from her spot and leaping out of her family's arms to hug her friend, the two girls jumping around with each other for a moment.

You smiled up at Harry and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards Auradon.

“Welcome to the family!” Ben called, walking towards Harry with his arms open. Harry accepted the hug and squeezed Ben tightly.

“Thank yeh” he whispered, pulling back and laughing a bit as Evie chastised you for losing your jacket as she threw the blue tailcoat back over your shoulders and clipped it.

“I spent five hours on just the details you better not lose it again” you nodded slightly and turned back towards Harry, smiling at him as he held out his hand to you.

You intertwined your fingers, laughing slightly as Ben called for the party to officially begin, he and Mal leading the originally invited guests and the new vks, and some reformed villains, into Auradon.

You pursed your lips as the large party made their way towards the garden where the party was being held and turned to Harry, pulling on his jacket a bit “you ready?”

He gave a slightly nervous sigh and shrugged “fer Auradon? Yes…ta meet yer parents no” you snorted and shook your head.

“I don’t care about their option, Ben approaches and that’s all that matters, come on, I want to watch your face when you take your first bite of lava cake!”

“what's lava-woah!” harry yelped as you pulled him through the archway, your laughter echoing around him pleasantly.

-end-

There we go! Part 2! I hope this one worked well and I wrote everything correctly!!!!

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[hale-13]

The Trouble with Tabloids

By Hale13 for @jenniboo311

“Oh look at this, this is a good one: ‘Some suggest that Parker’s powers include the male spider’s ability to hypnotize females.”

“Stop, c’mon,” Peter says back, slightly irritated at her teasing.

“Yes my Spider-Lord,” MJ says, dropping her voice in pitch and, against his will he starts chuckling. It makes him feel lighter and calmer and warm.

“Can we just like sit up here all day? It is so crazy down there.”

MJ hums and flicks over to the next page, still skimming. “I mean we could,” she says, neutral. “But would it really help anything?”

Or

MJ reads the Daily Bugle and Peter is an nervous mess about returning to school after his identity is reveled to the world.

Words: 5313, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandom: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Relationships: Peter Parker/Michelle Jones, Peter & May, Peter & Ned

Read on AO3 or below line break

“Does any part of you feel relieved about all this?” Michelle is curled up on her side, the half priced Christmas twinkle lights she picked up off a dusty shelf when they went thrift shopping a few months ago hung up haphazardly behind her. They make the edges of her hair glow red and throw strange and beautiful shadows across her face. Peter is almost too distracted looking at her to register her question.

“What do you mean?” His voice quiet and questioning. His living room is completely dark – his face lit only by his phone screen where he holds is just above his chest.

MJ’s face scrunches a little and she readjusts her head on the pillow, a few stray fractals of light bouncing off the broken black dahlia necklace and painting rainbows onto the wall and ceiling. “Now that everybody knows you don’t really have to hide or lie to people.”

Peter feels his hackles rise just a little at that comment but he’s too tired and burnt out to really be upset. He feels like he’s been fighting for years even though its only been a few weeks since Beck outed him to the world. His head pulsates with the starts of a headache and he just sighs. “For the record,” despite his desire to sound neutral his voice has a bit of an edge, “I never wanted to lie to you. But how do you tell someone that you’re Spider-Man?”

MJ hums noncommittally, it’s the sound she makes when she disagrees or has strong feelings about something in particular but doesn’t feel like arguing – he’s sure it will come up later and that her opinion will probably be correct. It makes him feel thankful and pissed simultaneously but he takes a deep breath and tries to let it go. Anger seems to be his default emotion these days. Anger and frustration and a dash of hopelessness. “Are you ready for tomorrow?” MJ asks, changing the subject abruptly and Peter settles a little more firmly into the ancient couch that May picked up from one of their neighbors. It groans under him.

“Sure,” he replies with a bit of a crooked smile that he can tell doesn’t reach his eyes – the little image in the bottom of his screen that shows his reflection makes him look pale and washed out and so so tired. No wonder May had been hovering so much recently. “I’ve always wanted to try and balance being a well known vigilante while going to high school.”

MJ chuckles and gives him a fond smile. The school year technically started a few weeks ago but Peter has been on unofficial home arrest while the NYPD and FBI and the freaking UN sorted out what to do with him. The unaltered footage from EDITH along with the character witness statements and testimonials from Happy and the newly returned to Earth Nick Fury (shape-shifting aliens what the fuck?) made it clear quickly that he was innocent but just opened the door for a whole host of other problems.

Like a large portion of conspiracy theorists still saying he killed Beck and that the government was covering it up. Or the fact that his address had gotten leaked and people had camped outside with signs or support or hatred and he and May had needed to move somewhere new. Or how Ned had been accosted by a crazy Fox News journalist on his way home from school one day.

That had made Peter see red and it was only May and Happy taking his web-shooters and phone and nearly restraining him that kept him from leaving to do something he would probably (maybe) regret later.

Jimmy Woo, the FBI agent over his case, had advised him to just lay low while the local and worldwide organizations hashed everything out. Peter was still too young to sign the Sokovia Accords but they couldn’t have him running around and ‘causing untold destruction’ in other countries. And, well, the NYPD still wasn’t his biggest fan when it came to the low-to-the-ground and neighborhood problems he liked to deal with.

As it was, he was now allowed to continue being Spider-Man in New York City but he would need special permission from local governments to act anywhere else. This suited Peter just fine; he would rather not leave home anytime soon after his last ‘vacation’ and Spider-Man was a Queens hero anyway. The clock on his phone ticked over to one in the morning just as his battery bar turned red.

“Hey,” Michelle said, pulling his attention back to her. She gave him a tired smile and pulled her blanket up higher on her shoulder. “We’ll be there with you the whole time.”

“I know,” Peter whispered, fingering the stitching of the t-shirt he had stolen from his girlfriend and was wearing. It still had just a bit of her scent that he could probably only pick up due to his enhanced senses and it made his chest feel a little full. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You will,” MJ said, ending the call and leaving Peter alone. The shadows that stretched across the walls from his dim phone light looked foreboding and he stared at them until his screen went dim. He really should get up and go to bed. He should pack his book bag. He should definitely charge his phone.

Instead, Peter creeps to his room and shimmies into his suit, jumping out his window into the cool night. ———————————————

Peter crawled back through his window just before his alarm goes off at six, tired and sweaty and still freaking out a little but feeling marginally better now that some of his nervous energy was gone. May is sitting at their little kitchen table nursing a cup of coffee in her robe and looking just as exhausted as he feels. He can tell she knows that he’s been out all night but he’s thankful she chooses not to say anything as he makes his walk of shame to their cramped single bathroom to shower.

When he emerges about twenty minutes later with damp hair and layered up in his favorite flannel shirt and a plain white t-shirt May has brewed another pot of coffee and has a stack of toast and jam on the table and his heart clenches. Toast and jam has always been his go-to for mornings where his anxiety is at an all time high and his stomach is twisting and he wraps his arms around May’s shoulders from behind in a fierce hug and tucks his face into her neck like he’s a little kid again. May gives him a kiss on the temple and lets him soak in some comfort from her before she shoos him over to his seat to eat.

They both sit in silence; Peter munching on his toast and drinking black coffee full of sugar to perk him up and May nursing her own cup and staring at the wall. May’s knee bumps against his when she scoots a little closer and he can feel a little bit more of the tension leak out of him – as long as he still has her he’s okay. No matter what happens with school and Spider-Man and the Avengers he has May.

“I’m so proud of you,” May tells him a few minutes later as he’s chewing on his last piece of toast and Peter can feel the tears pooling in the corners of his eyes but he refuses to cry. He sniffs and coughs, choking on emotion and May scoots her chair over more to pull him into a hug and he just lets himself be held for a minute.

“I love you,” he tells her, leaning into the hug for just another second before pulling away. May smiles, her own eyes watery and she fidgets with his hair, smoothing out the wild curls and fixing his collar. He knows she hears everything else he’s trying to say: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t want this.

“I love you too,” she says; It’s okay, its not your fault. “I have the next week off so if you need me for anything – and I mean anything – I want you to call me okay? I’ll come get you.”

Peter nods even though he would never call her to come bail him out and goes to the sink to rinse his cup and brush the crumbs off his plate. “I know May and I will, I promise.” Liar. The knock at the door interrupts them and Peter glances at the clock; its later than he thought. May bites her lip like she’s waffling on saying more but relents and goes to answer it. He can hear her greeting MJ and Ned, can hear the brushing of clothes as she hugs them both and Peter takes just a moment for himself. He closes his eyes and takes a fortifying breath – in through his nose and out through his mouth – and straightens his spine, squares his shoulders.

He can do this.

And he’s does. He’s fine as he slinks out of his building (the first time leaving as Peter Parker since his arrest and meeting with multiple government organizations and moving) and down the steps to slide into Happy’s car with Ned and MJ on either side of him. Ned is wearing the ridiculous letterman jacket from Acadec that he spent way too much money on and MJ is wearing a dark blazer he’s never seen before but instantly loves. He would probably love everything she wore to be honest.

“Hey kid,” Happy says. He looks completely unruffled in his usual dark suit and tie but Peter can hear his heart beating faster than usual as he double and triple checks his mirrors before pulling away from the curb. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Peter says but his voice is all wrong and he clears his throat to try to get rid of the lump that’s formed there unsuccessfully. Michelle slips her hand in his and squeezes tightly and Ned presses their sides together in a quick moment of support on his other side.

Ned’s phone buzzes against Peter’s leg and he fishes it out, unlocking it and reading through the message before typing a short reply. “Flash is meeting us out front,” he says. And that, probably, had been the biggest surprise from this whole identity reveal mess but it probably shouldn’t have been. When they had come back from the blip, fifteen kids out of their class of forty-three, they had come to an understanding.

The apology and forgiveness had gone unsaid between them but, suddenly, Flash wasn’t as terrible to be around. There was still some ribbing and snarky commentary but nothing to the intensity of before. No more ‘Penis Parker’ no tripping him in the halls or pushing him into lockers like before.

If the Blip had done one thing it was reset everyone’s preconceived notions and priorities.

After Beck had released his heavily doctored video, Flash had practically beat down Ned’s door and asked how he could help. With his large Twitter, Instagram and TikTok following, he had been able to help get the word out about local protests and had been the person behind #NY❤️sSpidey and #PeterParkerisInnocent trending on twitter for multiple days.

Peter had uninstalled all social media from his phone weeks ago to protect his sanity and had basically only been texting May, MJ, Ned and Happy but he really appreciated the sentiment and had dropped in on Flash when he was in the park the other day as Spider-Man to say a quick ‘thank you’ as he patrolled. Flash had looked stunned and excited in equal measure but had offered a scoff and a fist bump that Peter gladly returned before swinging off.

“Well shit,” Happy muttered as he turned into Midtown drawing Peter out of his thoughts.

The school was a madhouse – news trucks were lining the perimeter, their cameras and newscasters being careful to not step onto school property and under close watch from the scattering of NYPD and SRO on the scene. That was fine, they had expected that.

What Peter had not expected, what no one had prepared for, was the literal mob of protestors with signs and banners and t-shirts screaming and chanting behind a series of guardrails that fringed the path up to the school. His classmates were walking up the path mostly unmolested and filming and taking pictures, some of them lingering around the front entrance or on the steps or surrounding lawn as they watched in fascination. A couple were enthusiastically talking to a cluster of cameras and reporters near the subway entrance.

“How did they know I was coming back to school today?” Peter asks, mouth and throat dry and making his voice croak.

“Someone must have slipped it,” MJ says, not sounding surprised. There had been a school wide assembly the Friday before where Principal Morita had announced Peter’s imminent return and had put some ground rules in place – don’t treat him like a zoo animal, no crowding the halls, no harassment – but Peter didn’t really expect anyone to listen. He’d had his own meeting with May and Morita via Zoom a couple weeks before to hammer out the details of his continued education at Midtown and his tardy and absence policy. The man has assured him that he would do everything he could to keep Peter’s school experience as normal as possible which had bolstered May’s confidence but Peter had known it was more of an empty promise than anything else.

“It’s fine Pete,” Ned said. “They can’t do anything to us.”

Happy met his eyes in the rear view mirror and raised a questioning brow and Peter gave a shake of his head. He wasn’t going to back out now, besides, the car had been spotted and multiple cameras were pointed in his direction and the mob was screaming and waving their signs even more aggressively now.

Happy pulled to a slow stop in front of the path and put the car in park. “I can have them removed if you want,” he offered. “Or find a back entrance? You don’t have to deal with them Pete.”

Peter looked at the crowd again and gnawed at his already ragged lip. “It’s okay. It’ll just make it worse if I try to avoid them.”

Happy muttered something about self-flagellation under his breath with a fond eye roll but didn’t fight him. “Just don’t say anything,” he advises. “Don’t look at them and don’t say anything. Just keep walking until you’re in the school okay? I’ll be here right at four-thirty to pick you up after decathlon.”

“Thanks Happy,” Peter says, trading seats with Michelle so that he’ll be the first to emerge from the car and tightening his backpack straps. He wishes he had his red and black suit with him instead of the Iron Spider in its housing units on his wrists – the weight, minuscule as it is, is always comforting on his back. He wishes he was wearing his mask. He wishes he could just be plain Peter Parker again. He takes a deep, fortifying breath and opens the door.

The angry roar of the crowd when they see him nearly deafens him and he fights the urge to cover his ears and protect his sensitive hearing. Flash materializes out of nowhere to stand staunchly at his side as MJ slips out of the car, clearly nervous but ignoring the mass of people and grabbing his hand. “Nice hair Eugene,” she teases as Ned joins them and closes the door. Flash rolls his eyes at her and pushes his shockingly blonde fringe out of his eyes.

“You wish you could pull this off,” he offers in response and her smile becomes more genuine at the ribbing.

“Maybe red,” she muses, adjusting her own bag on her shoulder before she starts to walk up the sidewalk.

The path is only wide enough for them to walk two by two and MJ pulls him closer and holds his hand tighter as they face the school. Peter tries to ignore the signs and screams as he walks resolutely toward the door but he can’t completely block them out, especially after seeing a blown up copy of his year book photo with devil horns calling him a murderer. The woman holding it, wearing a t-shirt with a similar message and a button with Mysterio’s helmet on it, spews even more vitriol when she sees him look her direction. Her face is red and angry and Peter redirects his attention back to the school.

His classmates crowd the stairs and most of them have their phones out to livestream him coming to school. He feels like a bug pinned under glass and he can feel his breath speed up in his chest but he tries not to show it. Ben had always told him that he was an open book and that anyone could read his every thought on his face. It had been funny back then but now Peter just wishes that it was anything but true.

It, unfortunately, doesn’t get any better inside. The halls are lined with curious teenagers and teachers alike who all watch him walk down the hall and film him and get way too close for comfort. Morita had told him that he can’t, technically, enforce the no phone rule before school officially starts for the day and after it ends so Peter will have to deal with it.

His locker is also, unfortunately, down a completely different hall than Ned, MJ and Flash’s so they have to separate if they plan on being on time for home room. He’ll meet Ned there but he won’t see the other two until second period and he has first period, APUSH, completely alone. It’s almost enough to send him over the edge.

“I can walk with you,” Ned offers, adjusting his bag but Peter just shakes his head. He can do this. He has to do this.

The heckling gets worse once the others leave and his classmates get bolder – pushing into his space and taking selfies with him and asking invasive questions. He’s never been popular and he’s always been ignored and its just getting to be too much but at least he understands why some celebrities go off the deep end and straight up punch paparazzi now.

He makes quick work of getting his locker open and stowing his extra notebooks and gym bag before hassling in the direction of his home room. Ned meets up with him halfway there, a little out of breath from clearly rushing to meet him and pushing through the crowd, and the groupies back off a little once he’s around and forming a barrier between them and Peter. Ms. Warren glances at them from her desk when they enter and her eyes linger on Peter a little longer than normal but she otherwise ignores them and Peter feels honestly faint in relief.

“Dude,” Ned tells him as he slips into the seat to Peter’s right at the scratched up black lab table. Peter groans and drops his head onto his crossed arms, not really knowing how to respond. “At least you have Dell for APUSH – he won’t put up with any shit in his class.”

“Yeah,” Peter responds. “Lucky.”

Ned winces and goes to say something else but the bell rings and the school morning newscast starts playing on the TV. Ms. Warren turns it up just as Betty Brant says “This morning our very own Midtown Avenger joined us back in classes. In case you missed it, Jason and I were live on the scene for his-,”

Peter crammed his headphones in and turned on the white noise to drown out the sound of the newscast and pointedly ignored Ned’s sympathetic looks and Ms. Warren who looked at his headphones in blatant disapproval but didn’t ask him to take them out. Thank God.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he peeked at the message coming through – a single eye rolling emoji from MJ followed by Must be a slow news day. He smiled despite himself and tucked the phone back away just as the bell rang.

His first class alone was a nightmare – Mr. Dell had assigned them all seats and had put Peter front and center in what was, probably, an effort to keep his classmates for hassling him too much and keep everyone’s attention on what he was teaching and not on Peter. It didn’t really work since people kept taking sneaky Snapchat pictures and videos of him under their desks when Mr. Dell’s back was turned. Peter set his jaw and tried to ignore it but he knew he would have to borrow Ned’s notes if he even hoped at passing the class.

His AP English class was a little better since he had both Ned and MJ with him but Mr. Harrington who was, arguably, his favorite teacher and one that had, apparently, really gone to bat for him against the PTO and school board so that he could keep his scholarship and go to school, was a little oblivious. His classmates were even more bold and blatant and he was clenching his jaw so much he thought his teeth might break.

“Come with me,” MJ said, pulling him out of his desk right as the bell rang and rushing out the door.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked, stumbling after her as she pulled him toward one of the stock rooms, pushing him in and closing and locking the door behind them.

“To the roof,” she answered, standing on an overturned bucket to open up the small window. Peter blinked in surprise.

“But you have art this hour.”

“And you have a free period,” MJ said like it was obvious, hopping off the bucket and herding him to the window. “Ms. Goode loves me anyway so she won’t care if I miss a class. Hurry up and get sticky.”

Peter let out a bark of a laugh and climbed up the wall, pulling Michelle through the window after him and carefully avoiding the classrooms and front of the building until they reached the roof. The sun was bright and warm on his skin and he laid on his back just reveling in the silence. “This is nice,” he said, catching the book MJ dropped before it hit his stomach without opening his eyes and positioning it behind his head as a pillow. She settled in next to him, rustling with some paper and he cracked open one eye to glance at her. “What is that?”

“The Daily Bugle,” she answered, flicking through a couple pages and skimming the words, ignoring as Peter choked on his own saliva and fell into a coughing fit.

“You’re actually reading that garbage? You know what they’re saying about me right? Jameson keeps calling me a ‘Spider-Menace like that even makes sense-.”

“It’s actually pretty hilarious,” she said interrupting his tirade and stopping her flicking to read through a page. “Oh look at this, this is a good one: ‘Some suggest that Parker’s powers include the male spider’s ability to hypnotize females.”

“Stop, c’mon,” Peter says back, slightly irritated at her teasing.

“Yes my Spider-Lord,” MJ says, dropping her voice in pitch and, against his will he starts chuckling. It makes him feel lighter and calmer and warm.

“Can we just like sit up here all day? It is so crazy down there.”

MJ hums and flicks over to the next page, still skimming. “I mean we could,” she says, neutral. “But would it really help anything?”

Peter sighs and flops over on his stomach to beat his head gently into the book. “Probably not.” His stomach growls and he sighs – at least lunch is next. MJ’s hand skims down his neck to sit in the small of his back.

“I can think of something that could take your mind off it,” she says lightly and Peter feels his cheeks heat just a little but rolls his head over to smirk at her.

“Do tell.”

She gives him a little smile of her own before poking him until he moves enough for her to perch on his lap. He curls block out the sun and she’s at just the perfect height for him to lean forward and pull her into kiss.

They slip back into the window of the stock room just before the bell rings to end third period with their lips swollen and their hair a little more messy than it was before but with bright smiles and less tense muscles. Peter keeps his ear to the door and waits for the hallway to clear before they slip out and make their way to the lunch room.

Both of them had brought lunch so it was easier to creep in unnoticed through the side door and join Ned and Flash in the back corner of the cafeteria. It didn’t take too long before their classmates started murmuring and pointing and, despite the numerous warnings from various administrators and the fact that five of the sophomore level teachers were seated at their own table near the front of the room, many of the students took notice of their sudden appearance and were attempting to take surreptitious pictures and videos of them on phones hidden under tables and halfway in hoodie pockets. Peter felt his ears turn red as he ducked his head closer to the table and nearly into his sandwich. MJ glared at the table closest to them and the few girls seated there at least had the decency to look ashamed though they didn’t tuck their phones away.

“So this is fun,” Flash muttered as he picked at the flavorless and congealed school spaghetti on his tray. His normal table of friends and groupies were seated a few tables away and looking at him with jealously. Awkward silence followed his deadpan grumbling and Peter shifted uncomfortably.

Michelle rolled her eyes and snorted indelicately before glancing at Peter with clear mischief in her eyes and slapping her copy of the Daily Bugle on the table before flipping it open to a page she had earmarked. Peter groaned and dropped his head to thunk on the table dramatically as MJ said “ Did you know that Peter can hypnotize females with his spider powers?”

Ned snorted so abruptly some of the water he was drinking dribbled out his nose causing him to cough and gag and Flash to thump him on the back. “Oh my God,” Ned said reverently, touching the gossip rag and cradling it like it was special as his eyes darted across the page. “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen. I need to get this framed!”

Peter whined and thumped his head on the table a few more times. “Yo Parker, this says you lay eggs,” Flash pointed out, skimming the edge of the page where a bullet pointed lists of ‘Fun Facts!’ were.

“I don’t lay eggs!” Peter groaned out in dismay, giving MJ his best betrayed look. She ignored his misery as she gleefully looked at the paper upside down to read the other inaccurate facts listed about him. “This is abuse,” he muttered, trying to pull the paper away from Ned but failing as his friend dodged and Flash batted his hands away.

“Does your ability to hypnotize only work on females? What exactly is the process?” Ned teased, voice shaking in mirth. “Wait! Wait what do you make them call you? Master of the Spiders? Arachnid King?”

“Spider Lord,” MJ provided with a shit-eating grin that had Flash and Ned sputtering with laughter and drawing even more attention their way.

“Oh come on,” Peter begged. “Don’t let anyone hear you or they’ll believe it!”

“Of course Spider Lord,” Flash intoned with barely concealed glee causing Ned and MJ to cackle more.

“You’re all the worst,” Peter told them without heat. To be honest this was the best he had felt all day – he hardly noticed the extra stares and muttering anymore. The bell announcing the end of their lunch rang and he hurried to cram the rest of his sandwich in his mouth as quickly as possible; they all had to hurry since they had gym and had to change before the tardy bell rang in ten minutes.

The heckling continued up until they split off to enter different locker rooms and Peter abruptly clenched his jaw as he realized the majority of his class was not only early to class to change but also waiting in the locker room and looking busy while they waited for him. Ned shot him a wince as he ducked into one of the stalls to change. Peter could feel the eyes following him as he did the same.

“Come on Parker,” he told himself as he took a few moments to center himself. “It’s just gym. You’ve done it a hundred times. This time’s no different.” He took as much time as possible to change, only sneaking out just before the bell rang and the majority of the room emptied.

MJ had saved them seats a bit away from the rest of the class and Peter squeezed between her and Ned, taking her hand and giving it a soft squeeze. Coach Wilson, looking particularly bored, was lugging a couple bags of foam balls from the locked equipment closet and Peter felt his stomach turn with dread. He detested dodgeball.

“You know the drill,” Coach Wilson drowned from the middle of the court. “Split in half, game starts on my whistle. Not you Parker,” he called over the din of talking and scuffing tennis shoes. “New PTA rules – you can watch and do individual work but no more team or contact sports.”

Peter felt his face flush again as he lowered himself back into his seat as the class broke out into louder conversations around him. Ned clapped him on the shoulder and said “Don’t worry about it man,” and Peter opened his mouth with the intent to thank or reassure his friend that he was okay but Ned, taking advantage and wearing a smirk, loudly went directly for the kill. “Besides, its unbecoming of a Spider Lord to comport himself like one of us mere plebes.”

Flash promptly tripped down the stairs and barely caught himself from falling on his face and breaking his nose on the floor, MJ had to sit back down to get herself under control as the rest of their class just stared at them with confused looks on their faces.

“I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Peter told Ned seriously causing his friends to break out into laughter again. If you can’t beat ‘em right?

“You’ve been an awfully good sport about this,” MJ told him later, leaning against a neighboring locker as he packed his bag and grabbed his decathlon binder. He shot her a questioning glance as he zipped up his bag. “The Spider Lord thing. It doesn’t actually bother you right? Because Ned already changed your name in the group chat and I’d hate to hurt his feelings by changing it again.”

“No its fine,” Peter reassured her. “It’s a little funny.” He slammed his locker shut and took her hand, “We’re going to be late Captain,” he told her, walking in the direction of the library. And maybe it didn’t bother him but it didn’t stop the wheels from turning. The attention rankled and he just wanted to go back to being Peter Parker again, to be completely anonymous.

He may know a guy who could help with that – it would only take a quick trip to Bleeker Street.

[sinner-as-saint]

Another World - 4.

Alien!Bucky x Reader.

Part 4 of the Another World series.

Run-through: In a futuristic world, you and your family rescue and care for stranded and hurt otherworldly beings. You save them from the bad guys who exploit them. You help them adjust to your planet’s life, and give them their freedom back. Then one day, while on a rescue mission, you come across a human-like extraterrestrial being with a missing arm. And nothing is ever the same again…

Themes throughout the series: alien!bucky, fluff, smut, angst

a/n: ahh!! This will be the last part of the alien!bucky series! Thank you to everyone who loves alien!bucky as much as I do!

As time went on, things just kept on improving.  

You encouraged Bucky to have meals with the team. And again, he was a little hesitant. But after that first breakfast he had in their company – which he liked a lot, he didn’t need any more convincing to join the team for meals. He said he found the team entertaining; given they playfully argued with one another and roasted each other all the time.

Bucky quickly grew much more comfortable around a lot of the team members mainly; Nat, Sam and Steve – surprisingly.

And as the days went on, it was lovely to watch him open up to more people. Your people; now his too. And how he could carry long conversations without looking at you every few seconds for reassurance. He was growing more and more confident each day.

He would tease you often, and even use sarcasm at times – a habit he picked up rather quickly while being around the team. Bucky would even be a bit more touchy now. Instead of just innocent kisses, he’d take it one step further at times; kissing along your jaw each time he held you, or kiss down your neck when you cuddled to watch a movie.

And your skin tingled each time he touched you.

His hands would always end up under your shirt each time he held you close. And you grew accustomed to the cold of the metal arm against your skin – it was comforting now.

However, you and Bucky still hadn’t talked about the bond, or connection or imprint as the doctors called it. To both of you, it wasn’t a problem which needed to be addressed or fixed. It was just there, a blessing if anything.

As days went on, you learnt more about Bucky. The doctors had trouble drawing a line between what was Bucky’s otherworldly traits and what came with the experiment he underwent while in captivity. Either way, he was a strong addition to your team.

Bucky’s eyes were fascinating. You, along with Dr. Banner, had it figured it out by the end of the first week; Bucky’s eyes changed color according to what he felt. Ocean blue, normally. Lighter almost fluorescent blue, when he was happier. Darker for deeper emotions. It was quite a unique trait.

Bucky also spent time in Dr. Banner’s lab, sometimes your dad interrupted his occasional check-ups. He even had a one-on-one with your dad, which you begged him to tell you about but he refused politely.

 “Bucky please. Did dad say anything w-,”

He turned to face you while the two of you walked away from the treadmills at the gym. Oh, and he had begun training with you and the team as well. Initially you were worried about the metal arm, but then he used the pull up bar to prove you wrong, and made your jaw drop. And since that day, he accompanied you to the gym every morning.

“I had a private conversation with your dad. And I promised to keep it that way.” He replied, and raised an eye brow at you, daring you to argue back.

You frowned and involuntarily pouted. Bucky chuckled and spoke up again, reaching down to pick up a water bottle and you had to admit that the metal arm did things to you. Just looking at it gave you ideas which made you blush.

“It’s true, you know? What they all say about you.” he teased, knowing you’d wanna know more.

You crossed your arms over your chest and quickly eyed him up and down. Tight gym clothes on Bucky? A big yes.

“What do they say about me?” you asked, as he expected.

He looked you in the eye while he swallowed almost half of the bottle at one go. You watched intently how his Adam’s apple moved up and down rapidly, how the veins on his neck were prominent and how amazing his slightly tan skin looked.

A tingle ran down your spine and pooled right at your core. You shivered under Bucky’s intense gaze.

He pulled the bottle away from his lips, closed it and placed it on the ground again. He smirked.

“That you’re a bit of a brat.” He said, and took the advantage of the empty gym to walk towards you, and trap you between him and the wall behind you. He didn’t know where all this confidence came from, it just did. And he liked it.

You smirked as he backed you against the wall. “You think?” you had never wanted a man so close to you like you wanted Bucky. He smirked and grabbed you by the waist and pressed you against his body.

And that same tingle spread all over you again. You looked up to see his eyes had darkened a shade. His grip tightened on your body and he dipped his head and kissed down your neck – making you shiver again.

“You are. But I like it.” he spoke. And you were too distracted to realize that he had in fact answered your question. All you could focus on was how he dragged his soft lips along the side of your throat, making you tremble under his touch.

His voice had deepened; now raspy. His eyes, you were sure, had darkened a few shades. And there was a shift in the air around you, a pleasant one.

Bucky kissed his way back up to your lips and gave you a gentle kiss on the side of your mouth; making you wish and pray that he gives you more than just that. Because if there’s anything you knew for sure in that moment, was that you wanted Bucky.

Bad.

 “I want you.” Bucky said, stealing the words right out of your mouth. You felt his warm puffs of air on your skin; his lips hovering right above your own.

You leaned in and were about to press your lips to his and you were ready for him to take you right there if he wanted to, but then you heard a pair of footsteps approaching.

“Someone’s coming.” You carefully create a comfortable distance between you and Bucky and the doors opened to reveal Carol and Nat who came in for their training session.

Bucky almost groaned at the sight of them interrupting your moment.

You and Bucky exchanged a quick hello with the ladies and walked out. Sharing shy smiles and laughs as you made your way upstairs. And once on your floor, you left Bucky at his door and made your way to yours.

But Bucky didn’t let you go without a deep kiss. He chuckled when he pulled away. “I should definitely take a really cold shower.” He smirked and you did not dare look down. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

You smiled, blushing already. “Yeah.”

 You walked away with a thought which had you all hot and bothered by the time you reached your room and entered the shower.

Bucky was perfect. In every way, that you were sure of. But you didn’t know what he looked like… naked. You felt shy to admit it, but you had surely felt him press against you whenever you hugged. And sometimes you’d feel something poke you but you were always too shy to… initiate anything.

Oh but you wanted him. Each touch from him now just fueled your want and need to have him. But you didn’t want to just jump his bones, you wanted to take things slow.

The past couple of weeks you spent together was pure bliss. Delicate, gentle touches and stolen kisses. Walks in your secret garden and cuddling while reading or just talking about nothing under the sun. A lot of gazing into each other’s eyes and smiling. And a lot of forehead kisses before wishing each other good night, and good morning. You didn’t share the same room yet, so you two were always so dramatic before parting ways for the night.

You giggled under the shower at the thought of you and Bucky. He was perfect. He was all you wanted and more.  

Recently, you had developed this habit of always knowing where the other is. You two just felt gravitated towards one another. You’d reach out for his hand at the same time he reached out for yours when you walked beside each other. And your hands always met in the middle. It was a sweet, but intimate gesture.

“Oh Bucky… what are you doing to me?” you whispered to yourself under the shower while you bathed.

 Breakfast with Bucky and part of the team was as usual, chaotic. Fun and entertaining, but chaotic. Your dad joined as well, initially trying to settle them down but ended up partaking in the on-going debate between Thor and Carol – bickering over who’s the strongest of them.

For the rest of the day, Bucky was taken with his own training. He had had a talk with your dad, and told him how he wanted in with the team as well. And his forte was weapons and combat so he was learning about all the new gadgets your team worked with and decided to use his strength to do only good and rescue people alongside you from now on.

So Steve took the responsibility of getting Bucky accustomed to the work that you all did, and more training because in his opinion; Bucky was one of the bests you have on your team – combining his otherworldly traits and strengths, and all that came with the alteration done to his DNA when he was experimented on.

You remember feeling all warm and proud when Steve announced that to the team. Because Bucky deserved it, all the praise and the pats on the back and the kind and loving words.

 That same night, you noticed something different in Bucky’s behavior. You were both cuddling on his bed, movie playing in the background while the two of you were busy kissing and caressing each other – and you could’ve sworn you heard him moan when he breathed in your scent.

Your back pressed against his torso and you sat in between his legs, and you felt something poking your lower back.

“Bucky.” you had a faint tone of warning in your voice, but you also sounded playful.

Bucky was quiet. And kept kissing down your neck and along your shoulder. His stubble pricked your skin but it also tickled. You giggled as you felt his hands caress your skin under your shirt, inching closer and closer to your breasts – which was new because he was usually never this… sexual.

But you wanted it. You wanted him. Your body tingled and burned under his warm and cold touch, and there was nothing you wanted more than have him buried deep in you. But you were also nervous for your first time together.

Bucky sensed your sudden hesitation and he wasn’t having it. “Hey, look at me.” He sounded gentle, but also demanding and hot and you had to pull your head out of the filth and turn around on his lap; now straddling him.

You saw the hunger in his dark blue eyes. And your hand gently traced the branding on his skin, near his shoulder. Bucky reached out with his metal arm and held your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

Nothing had to be said, you both knew what the other wanted.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, looking up at you with hunger-filled, yet soft eyes.

You nodded. Of course you did, you trusted him with your whole heart and everything in you.

He smiled. “Then let me make you mine.” his voice was soft, and his eyes quickly flicked to your lips then back to your eyes.

You didn’t answer, you simply leaned in and pressed your lips to his. His mouth moved perfectly against yours, and you felt the warmth of his skin wrapping around you like a protective cocoon and suddenly nothing else mattered in the world. He was here, with you; and all was well.

His hands gently caressed your skin under your shirt. He lifted your shirt up after a while, and he pulled away from your lips briefly to take your shirt off completely; tossing it to the side carelessly. That being the only thing you were wearing at the moment, you now sat there on his lap, in just your underwear. He gently touched you wherever he could; letting his hands linger at your breasts and taking his sweet time; caressing and fondling.

His mouth didn’t leave yours as his metal hand slipped in between your legs with ease; caressing your inner thighs as he went. The cold from the metal caused a shiver to run down your spine, or perhaps that was just his touch – either way, you shivered and moaned through the kiss.

Hearing you moan had him bothered, and the sound which left your lips only made him want to ravish you even more. His hand slipped into your underwear with no shame, his knuckles gently stroked your wet folds; making you shiver at his touch. He chuckled upon feeling just how aroused you were.

He flipped the two of you; you landed on your back on his bed. His large frame hovered over you as he pulled away just a little to give you some time to catch your breath. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, gathering and smearing your arousal around as he went.

He pushed his cold, metal fingers into you and you shivered. He messed with you for a little bit; stroking your walls with his fingers and making you whine.

You whimpered quietly under him and he nuzzled your neck as he slowly removed your underwear; trailing it down your legs until he tossed it behind him – leaving you bare under him. Bucky pulled away to admire your body for a few seconds; his hunger only growing and your body grew hot and tingly under his gaze.

“So beautiful…” he mumbled in a daze, his eyes almost dark as the night.

You didn’t feel self-conscious, or shy. All you felt was hunger – a growing need to have him. His touch was electric, and it only made you want more. You admired the man above you, as he lowered his sweatpants reached down and pulled out his cock; stroking it while he looked down into your eyes.

You didn’t want him to see that his size both startled and excited you, so in order to hide your surprised face you leaned in and kissed him. But truth is, you were both nervous and impatient to just have him in you already. Not to sound entire obscene but… he was very well hung.

Bucky pulled away from your kiss gently, and leaned in again to press his forehead against yours while he pushed his erected cock past your tight entrance. You moaned out loud as he did. He grunted once he filled you up entirely, and he gave you a couple of seconds to adjust.

You were so full of his thick cock that even forming a proper thought seemed impossible at the moment. You shuddered as you felt all of him. His lips found yours again, attempting to get you to stay quiet while he rolled his hips against yours.

He removed himself and pushed himself back into you, and watched in awe how you struggled to adjust to his size. He lowered his face again, and dipped his head into the crook of your neck. You heard him panting and swearing under his breath as he rocked into you. Your nails sank into his skin, around his shoulder and muscular arm; which you held onto for dear life as he pounded into you.

You tried matching his thrusts but were unable to; so you simply let go. Your body moved against his like a rag doll. Like a toy for him to use. All his.

He kissed you, bit your skin, kissed your open mouth while he rammed into you; and you never complained once. Given his size, he stretched you out completely. And it did hurt, but the pleasure compensated for the pain.

Your legs trembled as you lifted them up to wrap them around his waist. This allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and in the haze he was in, he managed to mumble right in your ear about how good you felt. Bucky growled and bit down on your shoulder to keep himself from making any loud noises while he fucked you. He was relentless, as though each moan, each mewl which left your lips only encouraged him to get more and more rough.

He was usually very sweet and gentle when he handled your body, but tonight he was animalistic and wild. His kisses were more passionate and deep. His touch was tantalizing, and there was nothing innocent and gentle about how he made love to you. But you loved it. And you knew you could definitely get used to it.

You saw in his eyes, the determination, the hunger and the need – matching your own.

Bucky was relentless. He didn’t know why, but he felt the burning need to claim you and let it be known that you belonged to him.

At some point, right when your walls started clenching around him and when you were just about to come undone; he removed himself from you and flipped you onto your stomach and pulled you onto your knees by your hips.

He kissed the back of your neck and pushed himself inside you again. You felt his hard body press against the curve of your ass as he filled you up again.

How was he so good in bed? Not that you were complaining, but just a thought. However, you couldn’t dwell too much on the thought as him being buried deep in you was distracting.

You moaned out loud at the new sensation of him rocking into you from behind. Bucky’s hand found its way to your front and he pressed the palm of his metal hand against your lower abdomen. He liked the wave of excitement which coursed through his veins each time he felt himself deep within you.

His hand travelled all the way to your throat and he bent down to whisper in your ear, “Can you feel me deep within you?” his voice gave away that he was holding back a moan as he fucked you. “You’re mine.” He stressed, as he very gently squeezed the sides of your throat. But hard enough to make you lose your mind.

He liked the thought of how he was the only one who would ever touch you like this, the only one who would own you like this, the only one who would ever fuck you like this. The possessiveness came to him almost naturally as he rocked his body against yours.

He pulled out to flip you around and pushed back into you again, harder this time.

You could only moan and whimper in response while he pounded into you incessantly. You had no problem with being his. Not only because he was perfect, and could make love to you like a god, but also because he made you feel things on a level superior than just physical and emotional.

Bucky touched your soul, the innermost part of your heart and you knew then; looking into his eyes, that there was nothing in this world, or another world, you wouldn’t do for him.

You moaned at how wonderfully Bucky stretched you out and rammed his thick cock in and out of you rapidly. You felt your walls clench around him, and tightening around his thick member; making him moan out loud. The sounds leaving his lips were sinful more than anything. And it sent shivers down your spine.

He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand.

He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came; hard. You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core

Bucky fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt and shamelessly told you about it; whispering against your skin about how perfect you felt around him.

Unable to form coherent sentences, you moaned as you felt your second release approaching while you still recovered from the first. Your legs were numb, and your body moved along with his like you were nothing but a rag doll; yet, you wanted more of what he had to give. You craved him.

A rush coursed through your veins as you felt your mind clouding with lust again. His large frame hovering above you as he tightened his grip around your throat just a little more. He growled under his breath, his lips dangerously close to yours as you whined and whimpered under him.

A series of cuss words left your lips as you came for the second time in a row, walls tightening around his length. He bit down on your lip as you lifted your hips to meet his thrust; chasing your release. Your body trembled under him as you came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you. You noticed his irregular thrusts and the sound which left his lips – as he came right after you; filling you up.

After he was done, he fell limp into your arms, careful as to not crush you beneath his body weight.

He stayed like that for a while, and let you wrap your arms around him; with his head against your bare chest. He relished the feeling of being in your arms. Until he finally rolled over and pulled you into his side, tucking your head under his chin.  

Both of you panting and unable to utter a word after all that just happened. So you just held each other and relished the body heat radiating off one another.

Eventually, Bucky broke the silence first.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked softly as he gently ran his hands through your hair which sprawled all over his chest. And just like that, he was back to being the gentle boyfriend you were used to; not the beast he had just been in bed some minutes ago.  

You giggled. “Nope.”

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips; kissing your knuckles gently.

You turned to face him better, and reached out to gently caress his rough cheek. “Your kind muct be so beautiful.” You said as you admired the man. Simply breathtaking.

Your words made him smile. “You think I’m beautiful?” he asked, looking at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

You laughed. “So beautiful.”

He laughed along and reached out to hold your hand in his large, warms one and laced your fingers together.

“What if I happened to have fangs and green or red, scaly skin and say, a tail?” he asked, teasing you. He always felt a boost of confidence surge through him whenever he received a compliment from you.

You giggled and leaned in to kiss him on the tip of his nose.

“I would love you regardless.”

He could’ve sworn his heart grew in size when you said that. He had never had anyone say that to him before. Hell, before you he didn’t even know what love was. And how much better life could be with love and warmth around him. And now that he did, he didn’t want to be without you for even a single day. He knew he wouldn’t survive without you.

And neither would you without him.

Bucky took a while to reply to you. “You know, Dr. Banner told me about the bond thing. The connection you and I formed, or the imprint.” This was the first time one of you ever brought up this topic.

You listened intently.

“He told me all about it, and tried explaining as much as he could. He asked me how I felt about it, and I didn’t know what to tell him then.” Bucky told you the truth.

That day, in Dr. Banner’s lab, he truly didn’t know what to say. Not because he didn’t feel anything for you, oh no. He felt so much that he didn’t know where to begin with. He had difficulty putting what he felt into words so he remained quiet.

“Do you now?” you asked, after a few seconds. You were eager and curious to know his side of it.

He smiled and ran his knuckles against your cheek, gently caressing your face. “I do.” he answered.

And you waited for him to elaborate.

“Imprint or not, I would fall in love with you regardless, no matter where or when we met. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. You got me out of a dark place and showed me that this life was worth living. I like who I am when I’m with you, and I know that it’s not just a connection, it’s much more than that.” He paused. “I love you, and I never want to be without you.”

He voiced out his feelings sincerely, and you were almost on the verge of tears.

“I love you.” you whispered and leaned in for a kiss.

 -

Hydra.

That was the name of the nightmare Bucky had to live through for many years before you found him, and managed to get him out of there.

Your dad and Steve had done some research and within a few weeks, they were able to track down Hydra.

During a meeting with the entire team recently, your dad and Steve explained all about them and your potential new mission.

Hydra, you learnt, was a secret organization who did everything you and your team fought against. Trafficking, holding life from other planets captive, and experimenting on them, selling them, turning them into weapons and handed them over to slavery. Somehow they managed to stay hidden from you. But Tony figured it out the moment you found Bucky, because who else would shoot their hostages and rub it in your faces other than a malicious organization who, driven by human arrogance, thought that they were better than anyone else.

 And eventually you, Bucky and the entire team set out on your biggest mission yet – to take down Hydra.

And you succeeded. Initially Bucky was against the idea of you going there, because he knew it would be a dangerous fight.

You two even argued over it.

“I can’t lose you.” he said, in all seriousness as he sat you down on the edge of your bed once you finally made it to your room after the meeting.

You sighed as you looked around, avoiding his eyes at all cost. Your eyes fell on his sweater carelessly thrown on your couch. Then you found his book, lying on your dresser – the book he had been reading whenever he had free time lately. Then your eyes found his shoes somewhere on the floor.

You and Bucky had been sharing you room recently. And he had become such a huge part of your life; a habit. Your favorite habit.

“I can’t lose you either.” You were on the verge of tears. “Buck, those people treated you horribly for so long. I finally get to help put an end to it. Just let me go.” You begged again, calmer this time.

Bucky knelt in front of you, placing both his hands on your knees as you sat on the bed – angry at everything.

“Okay. What if you go, and then they get to you? And they take you prisoner.” His sounded cold. “Worse, what if they take you and not me? Do you think I could live with that?” he asked, shivering at the mere thought of it.

You scoffed.

“And what if they get to you and take you back? How am I supposed to live then?” you argued and Bucky stood up.

You did too. He turned to look away, frowning at the memories of that dark place. “You have no idea.” He spoke while looking down at the floor, then to look back at you. “You have no idea what it’s like in there.” He stated.

Your eyes watered at a certain memory. “I think I do, Buck. I’m the one who found you.” You felt your heart ache at the image of him in that cryo. “You’re the one with no idea of what it was like to see you like that.” You let the tear fall finally.

And Bucky still couldn’t look at you. He was hurting too. “No. You won’t go.”

“That’s selfish.” You sounded calm, but bitter.

Bucky looked at you finally. His eyes were deep blue, and glossy – much more than before.

“Maybe I am.” He caught your attention. “I would rather risk going through Hydra’s torture a hundred more times if it meant that you stay here, safe, and away from the fight.” He stressed on the fact that by staying here, and by not joining the fight, you would be safe.

“Bucky… please.” You walked over to him and held his hands in yours. “We can do this, we can put an end to this. Together.” You tried to persuade him.

-

In the end, he agreed. And the mission was a big success. You terminated Hydra, and came home. Some of you were injured, but that was expected. You managed to rescue many who were being held captive, and just like Bucky, they were all offered a place at the compound.

And just like that, life was perfect.

Although there was one question which was left unanswered through all of this, and it was eating you alive. But one day, while you and Bucky were outside in the garden enjoying the sun – you asked him.

“Buck?”

“Hmm?”

“If the doctors eventually find out where you’re from, would you want to go back? To your world?” you asked, your voice heavy with sadness. The mere thought of him leaving broke your heart.

He chuckled and reached out to grab you by your arm and pulled you into his chest. You placed your head over his heart, and you could hear his heartbeats loud and clear. The sun was warm, and this little garden felt like paradise with him by your side.

“Even if they do figure it out, I don’t remember anything from there. If I go, I’ll just be a stranger. I’d rather be here with you.” he looked down at you. “I like it better here.” He answered and your heart fluttered.

You had heard of enough love stories. Each different from each other; each one unique in its own way. It surprised you, in the best way, how something as delicate and beautiful as love had managed to transcend through centuries and traveled between galaxies, and between worlds. Until now, it found its way to you.

You knew since a long time ago that one day, if you managed to find your one true love, he’d be one of a kind. Little did you know that he’d be, in fact, from another world.

---

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[chaoticminhos]

crash and burn

pairing: han jisung x reader x hwang hyunjin

genre: angst, smut (hyunjin) mafia au

warnings: bomb explosion, injury.

word count: 10.5k

a/n: mafia jisung was requested, as was power play/fighting for dominance with hyunjin, so I combined them together to make a spicier plot >:) not very proof read

run away.

what a powerful human instinct. when put in a situation of possible danger, humans have two options; fight through it or run away from it. you’d always been one to run if the possibility came up, and your current situation was no exception.

your heart pounded against your rib cage as you ran with the little bit of effort you had left inside of you. the meeting had gone south and you received one order from chan- get back to the base safe.

being the only girl on the mission, you were the most heavily followed when your team split, aside from chan, of course, nothing was more important than capturing the leader.

you didn’t know exactly how many people were following you, but you heard at least three sets of feet running behind you. luckily for you, you were in your side of town. you knew the terrain and they didn’t.

you bolted into a dim alleyway, running through it and towards a crowded part of the town. even at night, there were bound to be people. way too many people for the people chasing you to do anything and not get caught.

you didn’t make it to your destination, though. as you ran past a particular building, a door swung open and you were dragged in as the door slapped behind you and you heard the lock click.

immediately you began to struggle. you were so damn close to safety, you were not getting caught now, not by some bastard who-

“y/n, jesus christ, calm the fuck down.”

you relaxed at the voice, but still worked to free yourself of his grip.

“what the fuck, jisung? i was almost safe in town.”

he kept his hold on you, holding your body close to his, “and now you’re safe here. and you’re with me, that’s an added bonus.”

as much as you wanted to be mad at him for scaring you like he had, you couldn’t bring yourself to keep a scowl on your face when he was holding you so close and looking at you like he was.

he leaned down and placed a kiss to your lips before taking your hand and leading you through the building and towards an exit on the other side.

“you were the only one not home yet, chan got worried.”

you laughed, “so he sent the least trained team member to save me?”

he raised an eyebrow, “just because i’m newest doesn’t mean i’m not trained well.”

you shrugged, he wasn’t wrong. jisung had only joined your brother’s group a couple months ago, but he was one hell of a learner. he picked up on firearms almost immediately despite having only basic experience with them. he was amazing at hand to hand combat, already better than hyunjin despite him having nearly a year over jisung in training. that wasn’t to say hyunjin was bad at combat, it just meant jisung was freaky good.

he cracked open a door and peaked out before deciding it was clear and leading you back outside. he seemed calm, but his free hand, the one not holding onto yours, was secure to the weapon in his waistband. it could be assumed that the men chasing you had given up by now, but one could never be sure.

it wasn’t a far walk to the mansion, not that you’d mind if it was. you had no problem spending time alone with jisung.

he wasn’t your boyfriend, but you’d say you had a romantic relationship with him. you’d hooked up with him too many times and he held your hand far too often not to classify it as a relationship. that’s how you thought of it, anyway. the two of you never discussed it.

jisung typed in the code to unlock the door and stepped in before you. you were met with the rest of the members sitting and waiting for your return. it was usual to have a full group meeting after a mission, especially one that went as wrong as this one had.

the only open places were separate from each other. so you released jisung’s hand from yours and took the closest one, which was between hyunjin and your brother, chan. 

“obviously we took a blow tonight. it was stupid of me to think we could trust them despite their connections to our enemy. i’m fine with the hit as long as none of you got hurt. still, we can’t let them get away with stealing from us. we’re going to have to retaliate.” he stood, he was referring to the thousands of dollars in the bags he’d brought to make a fair trade that ended up being stolen, “get some rest and we’ll discuss a plan in the morning.”

it didn’t take more than that to convince the majority of you to head to your rooms. you stood to leave, but jisung stopped you by calling your name.

“y/n,” he smirked, “my room?”

your face flushed at his question, more at the fact that he asked it so loudly in front of everybody than anything else. it wasn’t like what was happening between you two was a secret, but still. your best friends and older brother were in the room, for christs sake.

you nodded and made your way to jisung, following him to his bedroom. 

“can you two at least be quiet this time? if you wanna be up all night that’s on you, but let the rest of us sleep.”

you sent a wide eyed glare at changbin for his words, but jisung just laughed.

“no promises.”

you were woken up the next morning by jeongin pounding on jisung’s door to say that chan wanted everyone downstairs. it seemed he’d already came up with a plan to get the money back.

you didn’t bother to get dressed, instead just pulling one of jisung’s oversized shirts over your head and calling it good. 

you walked down the stairs with jisung and were met by a glare from changbin, “you weren’t quiet.”

chan didn’t allow you or jisung to reply as he got right into his plan.

it wouldn’t get stray kids their money back, but it would ensure that ateez, the gang who’d stolen it, wouldn’t be able to use it for anything other than repairs.

the plan was to set fire to a building known to be home to a lot of their business. it’s where they stored things and made the drugs they sold, so burning it to the ground would cost them a lot. not only would it destroy their headquarters, it would burn thousands of dollars worth of product. it was technically a government building, a law firm, but it obviously didn’t cost more than ateez had to bribe the government to let them make drugs in the basement of their building.

it wasn’t a super elaborate plan. he would just send a couple of you in to light the basement up and one of you in to pull the fire alarm once it was on fire. he didn’t care about getting ateez’s men out safe and alive, but there were a lot of innocent people in that building. 

“my target is the building,” he made it very clear, “the target is not the people.”

still, you all had permission to shoot any ateez member you came in contact with as long as you were absolutely sure they were actually a part of the whole thing, not just some unknowing employee at the firm.

“we’re going in tonight. they had last night to feel like they won, i’m not giving them a second good nights sleep.”

you all nodded in understanding.

“you’re excused. but stay open, i’ll let you know further details soon.”

naturally, you and jisung took the option of a mostly free day and decided to go to town. he never called it a date, but he held your hand while he walked you to the restaurant and let you choose where to go. he even payed for your meal. he did everything a boyfriend would. a title wasn’t needed.

you lead jisung through the small restaurant and into the back corner where you liked to sit. it was one of your favorite noodle places to go to, you’d been there enough to have a favorite seat.

you didn’t bother with a menu, you knew what you wanted. jisung didn’t grab one either. he’d taken here you way too many times not to know what food he liked. the waitress approached the table.

“can i get you drinks to get started?”

“we’re ready to order, actually.” jisung smiled at her. you noticed the way she scanned his features as she smiled back. 

“what can i get for you then, sir?”

you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at her flirty tone. wasn’t it obvious you were there together? as a pair?

jisung ordered his regular and you mustered up a fake smile as you voiced your own order as well. she assured you both that your drinks would be out soon and left to put in your orders, but not before gently placing a hand on jisung’s shoulder for a moment. you chose not to mention your frustration to jisung.

he reached across the table and took grip of your hand, “who do you think chan will send in?”

apparently he wouldn’t voice his opinion on the waitress, either.

you shrugged, “i’m not sure. minho and changbin maybe.” you thought for a moment, “but they might recognize changbin. he’s always at negotiations.”

“you?”

“maybe. it can’t be hard to get a girl into that place.”

jisung let out a small laugh, “that’s true.”

just then, your drinks were placed in front of you. you slid your hands out from under jisung’s to make room for the glasses. you smiled and thanked her for the drinks, expecting her to leave and get back to work. instead, though, she stayed. she brought her hand back to jisungs shoulder. she addressed both of you as she spoke, but you could tell her focus was on jisung.

“what’s the plans for today?”

“nothing really.” jisung spoke, “probably heading home after this.”

she raised an eyebrow, “you two live together?”

you were going to respond, but jisung got there before you.

“our whole friend group lives together.”

she nodded but was called off by her boss before she had the chance to respond.

again, you ignored her actions and went back to casually talking to jisung. it wasn’t long before she was back again, this time with your food.

“enjoy your food!” she chirped before walking away.

she didn’t bother you anymore while you ate, only reappearing when jisung flagged her over and asked for the check. she brought it and he payed. you took note of the tip he gave, not overly generous but not skimpy. 

she lingered for a moment before speaking as you were getting up and ready to leave.

“if you don’t mind me asking,” she was speaking to jisung, “could i get your number?” 

he chuckled, raising his hands in defense.

“oh, no, i’m sorry.” 

he took your hand and looked to you in hopes that she’d get the point.

“oh,” she pretended as if she hadn’t noticed the signs of you two being together the entire time, “i’m sorry! i didn’t realize she was your girlfriend!”

you missed the way jisung faltered for a moment at the word. girlfriend.

he assured her it was okay before the two of you hurried out of the restaurant. the second the door shut behind you, jisung laughed.

“that was uncomfortable.”

you chuckled back, “little bit.”

your hand still in his, jisung walked you back to the mansion and you spent the rest of the day curled into his side watching television on his bed. after the restaurant incident, you two decided to just go home instead of staying in town.

you were right in the middle of an episode when your phone rang, indicating that chan had called a meeting.

“looks like it’s go time.”

“y/n, hyunjin, and felix will be going in.” chan explained the plan, “felix is the distraction. he’ll be pretending to be a customer and speaking with anyone that needs to be distracted while y/n and hyunjin get to the basement and light it up.”

“why them?” changbin questioned. it wasn’t that he didn’t agree with his choice, he just wanted the reason behind it. he needed to be able to think like chan. if anything happened to him, changbin was next in line.

“it’s unlikely that anyone will recognize y/n. she’s just another girl to them. hyunjin is there in case someone does.”

and just like that, you were sitting in the back of a truck with rigged up bombs shoved between you and hyunjin. it would be too hard to get a ton of accelerant like gasoline in there without someone noticing, so chan opted for explosives.

seungmin was driving and jisung was in the passenger seat. no one was speaking, it always got deadly quiet before missions.

she car stopped in front of a big building that you recognized as the law firm and jisung stepped out to open the door for you and hyunjin. you got out, doing your best to block the contents of the car from anyone walking by as you loaded the devices into every pocket you had on you. another car pulled up behind you and the rest of the boys stepped out, including felix. chan gave the signal to go.

jisung stopped you before you could enter the building, though. he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“be careful.”

you smiled and followed the two boys into the building. 

felix split off immediately to the front desk. his task was to distract everyone as you and hyunjin found your way to the basement. his first conquest was the lady at the front desk. it was working so far, he had the desk attendants full attention and she didn’t even notice as you and hyunjin slinked into a staircase clearly labeled employees only.

it took a while for the two of you to find your way to where you needed to be, but you got there. 

the first obstacle was the workroom packed full of people that you needed to get past in order to get to the planting location. chan had showed you a map of the layout of the building and told you to pack most of the bombs into the warehouse where storage was. he had told you over and over again, the target was the product. and where was product stored? the warehouse.

hyunjin lowered his head and gestured for you to follow him as he began to cross the room. you were worried at first, wouldn’t someone notice you? wouldn’t you seem out of place?

the answer was no. it seemed that most of the workers couldn’t tell one person from another.

it was obvious that their payment for working was a cut of the product, not money.

finally, you reached two big, swinging factory doors. that had to be the warehouse.

you watched as hyunjin scanned the room to make sure no ones eyes were on you before leading you into the warehouse. 

it was empty for the most part, just a couple people. that meant that you’d seem more out of place than you did in the busy workroom. you had to be careful about being seen. you saw now why chan chose hyunjin specifically as the one to go with you, he was excellent at avoiding detection. he was trained and brought into the group for his spy work. despite his tall figure and clumsy nature, he was quiet and quick on his feet. you had to be careful not to lose him yourself.

the two of you began packing explosives into any space you could find, trying to spread them out evenly but still close enough that they would set each other off. you slowly moved through the entire large room together, one watching the others back as they carefully placed a package. you and hyunjin worked quickly as a team, yet another reason chan had sent the two of you in. he knew the dynamics, he knew who worked well together and how well they worked.

you were covering hyunjin’s back as he placed his last few bundles when an alarm rang through the building. you quickly registered it as the fire alarm. that meant felix had pulled the fire alarm. he pulled it before there was any sign of fire. 

you and hyunjin were supposed to be the ones to pull the alarm when you were finished placing the bombs. you were supposed to be the ones letting felix know when it was time to get out, not the other way around. there was only one time felix was ordered to pull the alarm, and it was if the two of you or himself got compromised. 

felix had pulled the alarm, and that meant get out, they know you’re here.

you tossed the last few bundles you had and watched as hyunjin lit the fuse to one of the bigger bombs, one that was sure to set off all of the ones near it and bring the building crashing down. the explosives looked small, but they could tear down entire buildings with enough of them, and oh boy, you and hyunjin sure had planted enough.

you allowed hyunjin to take grip of your wrist and lead you out of the warehouse and through the crowd to the exit. you were nearly there when you felt his hand leave your wrist and someone else’s arms around you.

“i thought i recognized you.”

that’s funny, you thought, because you didn’t recognize him. from his word choice and location though, you figured he was part of ateez.

you struggled in his arms and desperately tried to find hyunjin in the crowd, but you’d lost him. 

you knew the rules, if something were to happen in a situation like this, your orders were to get out. there wasn’t time to try to get your partners out. if hyunjin lost you like you lost him, he wouldn’t spend more than a few seconds trying to find you before turning and leaving the building himself. it wasn’t anything personal, it was chans orders.

you thrashed in the strange mans arms. he obviously wasn’t taking the blaring fire alarm seriously, as he made no attempt to get closer to the door. you tried to reason with him, screaming that you’d rigged the place and it would go up in flames any second, but he wouldn’t budge. either he didn’t believe you or he didn’t care. 

you managed to break free from his hold and your eyes locked with the exit. you felt your legs ache as you ran as hard as you could to get out of the building that was set to blow up any second. 

the last thing you heard was chan’s voice screaming in your ear to get out and get to safety with the rest of them before the earpiece was blown off of you from the shock of the impact coming from the exploding flames.

watching from a safe distance away outside, hyunjin fell to his knees in guilt as the boys watched the building crash and fall with you still inside.

you struggled to hear past the ringing in your ears as three men kneeled down beside you. their lips were moving, but you couldn’t make out any words. 

you tried to fight back as they roughed you around, not registering the situation. they got you onto a backboard and someone placed something over your mouth and once again you tried to fight it off, but you didn’t have the strength. 

you barely registered the change in scenery as you were carried out of the building and lifted into an ambulance. your eyes were blurry from the smoke and you swore you could still hear the alarms blaring in your ears.

the doors of the ambulance were being pulled shut when someone put their body in the way, jumping onto the ambulance with you. the emergency staff tried to push him back, but he insisted on staying.

“it’s my sister.”

you didn’t process the new body as chan. in your haze, it was just another person smothering you and refusing to turn off whatever the fuck was ringing in your ears.

you couldn’t say how long the ride to the hospital was. in all honesty, you couldn’t even say with certainty that you recalled the ride at all. you were drifting in and out of consciousness and you barely made the connection they you’d been taken from the vehicle and into the hospital building.

you felt someone squeezing your hand before they were pushed away and you were rolled into a room full of doctors and bright lights. you remembered asking someone to turn the lights down before everything went black.

you woke up in a hospital bed with your head pounding like crazy. the lights were dim as you looked around the small room, but you still recognized the boy sitting in the corner.

“channie?”

his head shot up and he made his way to you.

“hey, i’m here.”

your mind coming off of it’s tired haze finally began to register the pain coursing through your body.

“what happened?”

“you were still in the building when the bombs went off.”

you glanced around the room and, finally processing that you were in an actual hospital and not being cared for by one of the boys, began to panic.

“why am i here?”

he grabbed your shoulders and made you lay still, “EMTs found you before we did. it’s okay, they don’t know you started it. they think you were just an innocent civilian in the building.”

you calmed down upon hearing that he wasn’t angry at you for being hospitalized.

generally, you avoided hospitals the best you could. the whole team opted instead to let their injuries and illness he cared for by one of the others. it was safer than putting yourself in the public eye with questionable injuries.

chan backed away from you when a nurse stepped into the room, dragging a large cart behind her.

“hey,” she softly greeted, “your monitor showed you were awake. i need to take your vitals.”

she smiled at chan and gestured for him to sit back down in the guest chair as she checked your vitals. apparently nothing was out of the ordinary, because she smiled at you before wheeling the cart out of the room and calling behind her that she would let your other guests know you were awake.

only moments after she left, hyunjin, jeongin, felix, and jisung stepped into the room.

“the others are at home tending to injuries.” chan informed you, “none of them are hurt as bad as you.”

you nodded, heart falling when you looked up and saw the tears running down hyunjin’s face. he leaned down and wrapped his arms around you and you laughed.

“what, you big baby?”

“i’m so sorry, y/n, i’m so sorry.”

you hushed him and pushed him off of you with a wince. your entire body was sore, and although he didn’t mean to, that boy hugged like he wanted to suffocate you.

“it’s not your fault.”

you scanned the room and greeted the other three boys. it was odd to you that jisung hadn’t said a single word or made a move to hug you, or even be anywhere closer to you than the door, since they’d walked in.

you weren’t given time to think much of it before who you assumed was your doctor walked through the door, immediately turning to speak to chan.

“your sister could go home today or we could keep her and monitor her for a few more days just to be sure. it’s your call.”

chan nodded, politely stating that he would prefer to take you home. the doctor nodded before handing chan your release papers. 

you felt slightly frustrated that he wasn’t addressing you, you were an adult and could sign your own papers, but you understood why he was going through chan.

as if reading your mind, the doctor turned to you.

“would you like me to send in a nurse to help you get dressed or will one of these boys be helping you?”

you looked expectantly towards jisung, but his eyes were trained out the window.

“i’d like a nurse to help, if you don’t mind.”

he nodded kindly and lead the boys out of the room. chan left last after placing a bundle of clean clothes on the foot of your bed. you guessed the ones you had been wearing were torn up from the shrapnel and impact.

it didn’t take long before a nurse was stepping through the door and pulling a curtain over the windows to the rest of the hospital to give you privacy.

she helped you stand and step into your clothes and you couldn’t stop thanking her for being patient with you as you slowly moved your aching body. you winced as you lifted your arms above your head and let her slip a sweatshirt over your body.

you expected it to be awkward, having a random lady dress you, but she was so kind that it didn’t feel too uncomfortable.

she slipped warm socks onto your feet before helping you into your shoes and offering you an arm to help you stand. she walked you out your hospital room door where there was a wheelchair waiting for you. she gently lowered you down into it and turned to the boys.

“no heavy lifting for a few weeks and she may need help with things like showering, changing, or getting up from lying down or sitting. i would suggest keeping her in bed for a few days or at least until the bruising and swelling has gone down.” 

she continued to go through precautions regarding your health, including keeping you away from bright lights and loud sounds to prevent your headaches from getting worse. she seemed skeptical as chan declined setting up a follow up appointment for you to come back and be checked again, but she eventually let it go. she waved you goodbye as chan wheel you down the hallway and out of the building. he, jeongin, hyunjin, and jisung waited with you as felix went to pull the car up for you.

you couldn’t help but feel worried and confused as jisung continued to ignore you. he hadn’t said a single word to you since you’d woken up.

felix pulled up and hyunjin opened the car door as he and chan carefully lifted you into a seat. chan returned the wheelchair back to the hospital and hyunjin climbed in beside you.

it was obvious he felt guilty about leaving you in the building when he himself had gotten out without a scratch.

the drive home was relatively quiet. you started out the window while hyunjin held your hand in his. 

felix was careful to stop the car slowly as not to hurt you when he parked at the mansion. chan and hyunjin helped you out of the car just as they had helped you in a few minutes before and they walked slowly with you to the door and to your room where hyunjin softly layer you down on your bed.

chan left to inform the others that you were home and doing well, leaving you alone with hyunjin.

he pulled your desk chair next to your bed, taking your hand in his again.

it was hard to be upset that jisung wasn’t the one sitting there with you when hyunjin was such a sweet and loving caregiver.

“did we at least get the building good?”

hyunjin laughed, “we did. took out the whole foundation and police investigating found traces of drugs among the debris, so the corporation is being investigated.”

you nodded with a smile, “hell yeah.”

you weren’t left alone for the next few days. at least one person was always with you in case you needed something. more often than not, that person was hyunjin. chan tried to be with you as much as possible, but he had things to deal with as the leader.

jisung had yet to visit you by himself even once in the days you had been on bed rest.

you were absentmindedly playing a game on your phone and talking to hyunjin when jisung and minho softly knocked at your door before stepping in.

“hey there,” minho smiled, handing you a plate of food, “don’t tell chan but i snuck you an extra pudding.”

you thanked him and he and jisung turned to leave the room, but you stopped them.

“sung?”

he turned around, shocked that you’d called for him.

“yes?”

“can i talk to you?”

he nodded and hyunjin took that as his cue to follow minho out of the door, leaving you alone with jisung. he had been just as focused, if not more, on the fact that jisung had been avoiding you.

he sat down where hyunjin had previously been but made no move to reach for your hand comfortingly like your gotten accustomed to hyunjin doing.

“why haven’t you visited?”

“i have been.”

“no,” you tried to sit up a bit, wincing when pain shot through your body. jisung instinctively reached out to help you, but he pulled his hands away the second you were secure and leaning against your backboard. “you haven’t. everyone but you has spent time with me. you haven’t even said a word.”

when he didn’t speak, you continued, “what’s wrong?”

you reached out for his hand, shocked when he jerked it away. he stood up abruptly, “i’m not required to visit you, y/n, it’s not like i’m your boyfriend.”

you frowned, where was this coming from?

“yeah jisung, you kind of are.”

he shook his head and you were too clouded by confusion and frustration to notice the tears building up in his eyes, “we’re coworkers, y/n. nothing more.” 

really? because the way he held you at night and kissed you and told you you were the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen said different.

he didn’t give you a chance to respond, immediately leaving your room. the second he was out the door, hyunjin was stepping back in. he rushed over to you and wiped a tear that you hadn’t even realized was there from your cheek.

“hey, what happened? jisung looked upset.”

you shrugged, “i think we just broke up.” you let out a dry laugh. 

or not. he seemed sure that there wasn’t anything to break in the first place.

you missed the hint of happiness in hyunjins eyes hidden behind his sympathetic expression.

he sat on the edge of your bed, pulling you into a gentle hug, careful not to hurt you.

“i’m so sorry, y/n.”

he meant it. he felt for you, he understood how much it hurts. he understood how badly it hurts to have someone you care for blatantly ignore you like that.

still, though, jisung putting you through that pain might end the same hurt for hyunjin.

maybe now you would let yourself see him.

jisung didn’t come in your room for the remainder of your healing process, not even to drop of meals with minho. he didn’t try to see you while you tried desperately to shove down the want to see him.

it was your first day up and you were struggling to get down the steps and to the kitchen as you clung onto hyunjin, who was supporting you. 

it wasn’t so much that the injuries were still that bad, it was just that your muscles weren’t used to being used. even with that, you probably didn’t need all of the help hyunjin was offering, but you didn’t want to decline it, either.

he helped you to your seat around the big dining table, pulling the chair out for you and gently helping you sit. you mentally thanked him as he slid into the seat beside you, the one jisung usually sat in.

it had been about a week since the whole thing, and today would be your first time seeing him since then. he couldn’t avoid you anymore, and you didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. 

jisung took a step into the kitchen and his eyes went right to you.

definitely bad.

hyunjin placed his hand over yours, redirecting your attention back to him. you smiled, he was good at keeping your mind off of jisung.

chan wanted to have a group breakfast all together to welcome you back from bed rest. you knew he meant well, but you would have preferred not to have to sit at the same table as jisung for an hour.

did the news get around? probably not. why would he have told people about the break up if he didn’t see it as the end of a relationship?

well, if the news hadn’t already been spread, everyone definitely knew something was going on by the end of the meal. jisung had spoke and engaged in conversation, but not a single word he spoke was directed at you. 

you let felix take your plate when you finished and slowly moved to stand up from your seat. hyunjin widened his eyes in surprise and moved to help you, causing you to laugh.

“i got it, jinnie.”

you didn’t notice jisung cringe at the nickname. why would you? you had no reason to look in his direction if he wasn’t going to look in yours.

hyunjin let you stand by yourself, but he kept his hands out and ready to help you if you needed it. you stood and smiled at him. he smiled back, giving a few claps to congratulate your progress.

you were surprised how much easier it was to get around once you got past the initial shock of using your muscles again for the first time in a while. you were able to walk to the lounge and sit down on the couch without help.

hyunjin sat down right next to you and you chuckled.

“i’m okay, you don’t need to stay with me anymore.”

he frowned, “i’m not doing it because i feel bad.” he shrugged, “or only because i feel bad.” 

he blamed himself for leaving you in the building, even though he did exactly what he was supposed to and you ended up fine.

“i’m doing it because i like spending time with you.”

if he had said the same words any time before your accident, before you and jisung ended whatever it was you had, you wouldn’t be blushing the way you were. but for some reason, you heard his words differently now.

it was his turn to choose a movie. the two of you had been watching a lot of movies since you’d been stuck in bed, and you always alternated who got to choose. not that it was a big deal, you had similar tastes.

the day wasn’t spent much differently than it would have been if you were still stuck in bed, other than you being able to actually eat meals with the others and sit in the living room instead of cuddled next to hyunjin in your small bed while watching movies.

the sun was set already and many of the boys had gone to sleep, but you and hyunjin wanted to finish the hundredth, (not really, but it felt like it), movie of the day. 

throughout the day, some of the others had came and watched whatever was playing with you and hyunjin. felix complained about you two taking up the biggest television in the house, which he liked to use for gaming.

now, though, you two were alone.

the credits began to roll and you went to sit up, hyunjin immediately wrapping his arms around you to help.

you chuckled at him, “you don’t need to baby me so much.”

he pouted, his arms still around you, “but you’re my baby.”

his words were nothing out of the ordinary, all of the boys babied you and jeongin. still, his close proximity and the way his eyes locked with yours and the confusion and frustration inside of you caused you to process it differently.

apparently he did, too. before you knew it, he had his lips on yours as he snaked his hands across your body, careful not to hurt you.

you felt his hand run down your body and to your ass, giving it a small squeeze.

he maneuvered you into his lap, and for the first time since you’d woken up days before, he didn’t do it as if harsh movements would break you.

you liked it.

you straddled his waist, hands combing through his hair. he let out a whine as you took a fistful of his hair and tugged his head back, exposing his neck to you.

you trailed your tongue along the sensitive skin, the heat in you building with every soft sound he let out. you bit down on a specific spot and he let out a sound that made you think maybe you’d hurt him, but before you could ask, he was begging you to do it again.

so you did. you peppered kisses and bruises along his neck, unconsciously grinding your hips down against his.

he hissed, fingers digging into your waist has he stilled your movements.

“knock it off.”

a smirk played at your lips as you removed yourself from his neck and looked him straight in the eyes, going exactly against his words and rolling your core against his clothed crotch.

“or what, prince?”

with that, he had you off of his lap and your back pressed against the seat of the couch.

he kissed you roughly, and you let him. you moaned into his mouth as his tongue danced with yours. he tasted like lust and craving.

his hands crawled along your body, reaching under your shirt and trailing up your bare stomach.

“or i won’t be able to hold myself back from fucking you so hard you forget everything but my name.”

his words sent a rush through you, and at that moment, you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more than what he was offering.

you slipped a hand between your bodies and groped his clothed bulge, “then do it.”

practically growling, he slipped a hand to the small of your back and held you up to allow your shirt to slip over your shoulders. he brought a hand to your breast, cupping it and attaching his lips to the top of it, sucking a deep purple hickey onto the soft flesh.

you let him have his fun, let him admire your body and paint it full of his marks, before you decided it was your turn again.

you placed your palms flat against his chest and pushed him away from you. he looked confused at first, but you saw excitement flash in his eyes as you continued to push him back until it was his back to the cushions, him underneath you.

you rolled your hips against his as you leaned down and whispered in his ear, breath grazing the skin of his neck, causing his breath to catch.

you grabbed a hold of his hands, bringing them to cup your chest over your bra.

“tell me, baby,” another roll of your hips, another sweet sound from his lips, “have you ever thought of me before?”

his answer came almost before you finished speaking, “yes.”

you hummed, “when?”

he swallowed hard, “all the time. especially when...” he trailed off.

you hovered your lips above his, “especially when what, hyunjin?”

he let out a shaky breath before responding, and his voice sounded almost ashamed, “especially when i could hear you and jisung.”

you ignored the sting in your heart at the name and smirked against his lips, “did you listen a lot, hm?”

he nodded and you raised yourself so you were sitting up, guiding his hand behind you and to the strap of your bra. he got the hint, fumbling to undo the clasp.

he groaned as the garment fell, exposing your breasts.

“you like to listen?”

he nodded, eyes trained on your chest.

you paused your words for a moment to guide his hands once again to your boobs, whispering to him that he was allowed to touch you.

you continued, “what did you do when you listened, hyunjin?”

his breath caught in his throat as you trailed your hand down his chest, pushing up the shirt that he regretfully still had on and slipping your hand past the waste band of his sweatpants and under his boxers.

“did you touch yourself,” you squeezed his hard member, “here?” 

he nodded, too far lost in his fantasy coming true to provide a verbal response.

he made a sound of protest as you removed your hand from his pants, depriving him of the touch he so desperately wanted.

you chuckled darkly at the whine, “what a little bitch.”

that seemed to snap him out of his daze as he flipped your positions so he was once again on top, hissing his words out.

“what did you call me?”

you ignored the growing pool of wetness between your thighs, “a little bitch.”

“yeah?” he attached his lips harshly back to yours, speaking between rough kisses, “i’ll show you who here is a little bitch, y/n.” he broke the kiss to lock his eyes with yours, “and it’s not me.”

he disconnected from you for a moment to slip his shirt over his shoulders, and you couldn’t even be upset with him for stealing back control. not when he gave you such a good view from beneath him.

he stepped back, gripping your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the couch as he kneeled in front of it. he tugged your own sweats and underwear down your legs, allowing you to kick them off before he took his spot between your thighs.

he placed wet, open mouth kisses to your thighs, drawing nearer to your aching core with each one.

“god, having to hear you with jisung all the time really got to me.” he practically moaned out the words, “you sound so hot moaning for him. but i think it’ll be even better when it’s my name.”

with that, he attached his lips finally to where you’d been waiting for him.

you couldn’t hold back a moan from ripping through your throat as he sucked harshly at your clit.

not only had it been a while since you’d done anything because of your injuries, so you were sensitive, plus hyunjin was insanely good at what he was doing.

he pulled away for a moment, a string of saliva and your arousal connecting from his chin to your core, “you taste so good, baby.”

he went back in, this time slipping two fingers into you easily with how wet you were.

a hand flew to your mouth to cover the obscenely loud moan that fell past your lips, but you let it fall. the mansion was big and no ones room was that close to the lounge, it should be fine. you could be as loud as you wanted.

and with the way hyunjin curled his fingers perfectly inside of you, god, were you going to be loud.

with his skills, it wasn’t long before you had your thighs tightening around his head and body shaking as the knot inside your stomach came undone.

he worked you hard through your orgasm before standing up and slipping his pants down his legs in one swift potion. your eyes fell to his angry red member and you couldn’t have stopped yourself from staring if you wanted to. 

you let him position you however he wanted, which happened to be with your back down to the cushions again, as a thought crossed your mind.

were these feelings real? or were you just grateful for him caring for you while you healed? for taking your mind off of jisung?

it didn’t matter. he obviously wanted to help keep your thoughts off of jisung, and this was definitely doing a great job of that.

you brought your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss as he began to slowly sink into you.

the stretch was painful, but you liked it. he was much larger than jisung, and he seemed to be better at using what he had. 

maybe that last thought was just the anger and frustration speaking, or maybe it was because of the way hyunjin began to fluidly pound into you at the perfect pace, sliding himself against your walls in such a way that you couldn’t have stopped yourself from letting out the sinful sounds from your mouth.

“say my name.”

you didn’t hesitate to comply, “fuck, hyunjin, you feel so good. so, so good.”

he groaned at the sound of his name leaving your mouth as a moan. he pulled out of you for a moment, but you weren’t given time to complain before he had you turned around with your back pressed firmly against his chest and his cock buried deep inside of you once again.

the new angle let him hit places that made your mind spin even faster than it had been before, which you didn’t even know was possible.

his breath grazed your neck and he bit down right on top of one of the marks he’d left earlier.

holding you secure with one hand across yours chest, he snaked the other down your stomach and attached his fingers to your clit.

if it were possible for you to moan any louder, you would have.

with a couple more firm and direct thrusts to your g-spot and one hand working expertly on your clit while the other squeezed your boob harshly, you were coming for the second time that night as his name fell off of your lips.

“oh my god, hyunjin, fuck, you’re so big, so good.” 

praises fell freely from your mouth as he carried you through your high. those, mixed with the way his name sounded coming from your mouth and the way you were clenching around him threw him over the edge too.

you whimpered as he fucked you into overstimulation, but praises and a chorus of his name kept falling from your mouth. 

you couldn’t stop telling him how good he was, how good he felt. he deserved to know.

you swore you could have came again just from the feeling of him filling you up with his cum, fucking it deep inside of you.

he pulled out, a mix of your and his cum slipping out of your hole along with his cock,

he groaned at the sight, and if you hadn’t looked so worn out from your aching body and the ride he’d just given you, he would have fucked it back into you and made sure it stayed.

instead, he stood and shoved his cock, which was already growing hard again thanks to the sight in front of him, into his underwear.

you barely even registered that he had left the room before he was back and maneuvering you so he could clean you up.

you whined at the warm cloth against your core.

“please, hyunjin...”

he chuckled, “we’re done for tonight angel, i’m just cleaning you up.”

you whined again in response, and you didn’t really know if it was because of the feeling of the cloth against your core or as a protest to hyunjins statement that it was over.

“baby,” he spoke softly, “you gotta use the bathroom.”

you groaned, this time from annoyance and not pleasure.

he laughed, “i know, but i don’t want you to get sick.”

you reached your arms out to him, “then carry me.”

he chuckled again, but he did as you requested. he picked you up bridal style, careful as always not to hurt you, and carried you to the bathroom.

he let you do your business as he went back to pick up the clothes you two had left scattered on the lounge floor, you wouldn’t want anyone stepping in there in the morning to find that surprise.

he returned, and after you arguing that you didn’t want to shower or bath, you just wanted to go to bed, he carried you to his room and crawled in next to you.

you buried your head in his chest, and in that split second before you fell asleep, you felt safe and in jisungs arms.

you sat at breakfast the next morning in a comfy pair of sweats and a tank top that hyunjin had gotten for you from your room. part of you wished he had gotten you a sweatshirt, or at least something at covered all of the marks he’d left along your neck and collar bones, but the other part, whether you were conscious of it or not, wanted jisung to see them.

breakfast was going find until chan asked how you were feeling.

you pouted, “sore.”

jisung scoffed from the other side of the table. you wanted to ignore it, but something in you wouldn’t.

“what?”

he looked up from his food, surprised that you had called him out. he just stared at you, waiting for you to elaborate further.

when you didn’t, he set his fork down, eyes avoiding yours.

“come on,” he shrugged, “you can’t be that sore.”

you frowned, “what do you mean?”

his eyes flashed to hyunjins, who held his gaze.

“you can’t be in that much pain if you let him fuck you like that.”

you nearly choked on your food at the bold statement. 

it wasn’t like the boys, even chan, didn’t know you were sexually active, but bringing it up at the dinner table? 

some of the other boys stuttered to, apparently the lounge had been far enough from some rooms, and not others. or maybe he just got the point from the hickeys littered across both your and hyunjins bodies.

you quickly regained composure, staring at him as if you were challenging him. before you could speak, hyunjin cut in.

“maybe that’s why she’s sore.”

jisung let out an unamused laugh, “don’t act like that.”

“like what?” you questioned, eyes still locked on him.

“like he owns you. like you’re his whore. like-“

chan stood up, hands coming down harshly on the table.

“okay,” he drew the word out, “let’s all finish breakfast on our own, yeah?”

everyone around the table nodded and hurried off, eager to get away from the awkward atmosphere, but hyunjin and jisung stuck around with you.

hyunjin spoke, “i’ve been around a lot fucking longer than you, han. you have no clue what happened before your sorry ass was accepted into this house.”

it was bullshit, hyunjin knew that the previous night was the first of anything to happen between the two of you, and jisung probably knew that too, but he was just speaking from anger and jealousy.

“so, what?” jisung laughed, “she was with you, i came along and she ditched you, and the second i walk away she goes crawling back to you?”

you expected hyunjin to blow. you forgot he was a skilled liar.

he smirked at jisung, “who says she ever left me? i’ve got plenty of ways to make her mine without putting my marks on her, han.” he reached over, fingers brushing over the marks he’d left the night before, “even when she was wearing your paintings, she wasn’t yours.”

hyunjin grabbed your hand to pull you away and you stole one last glance at jisung. you could have sworn you saw something, guilt or sadness, flash across his features.

chan decided to keep the rest of the meals for the day independent, too. he would rather arguments be settled alone instead of at the dinner table, especially arguments revolving around his little sister and who was fucking her.

the next morning, breakfast was held as normal, but jisung didn’t show up. you assumed by the way no one mentioned it that chan had given him permission to eat his meals alone until things calmed down.

along with no one mentioning jisungs absence, no one mentioned the fight from the previous day or the apparent relationship between you and hyunjin.

it was like that for the next few days. meals were normal, minus jisung not being there, and days were filled with hanging out with hyunjin, whatever that may include.

you felt bad in some ways, he had been missing out on missions, which meant missing out on pay, in order to stay with you. he insisted he didn’t mind, and you knew he meant it.

plus, it’s not like he wasn’t getting any payment. chan still gave you and him your weekly allowances. it came with being part of the family.

things seemed to be calming down and you were getting used to hyunjin being the one who held your hand and kissed you goodnight. you still thought of jisung often, obviously, feelings don’t go away that quickly. but it was getting easier and every time you kissed hyunjin, it felt a little bit more genuine. you’d even continued sleeping in his bed with him, even now that you could get around fine by yourself.

you slowly lifted yourself off of his bed, careful not to wake him, and made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

you frowned as you noticed the light already on and voices coming from the kitchen.

you paused in the hallway to listen. it wasn’t that you wanted to eavesdrop, it’s just that if it had sounded important you would have went back to hyunjins room instead of interrupting.

“everyone gets weekly pay no matter what, jisung.”

it was chans voice.

“yeah, i know.” you recognized jisungs voice as he replied, “i just think it’s funny that you’re paying him to stay home and fuck your little sister.”

you heard chan sigh, “everyone is allowed breaks from missions, regardless of the reason.”

jisung started to argue again but your brother cut him off, “this isn’t a work issue, jisung. this is a personal issue between you, y/n, and hyunjin. hyunjin, who, by the way, you’re losing her more and more to every single day you sit here bitching to me about being in love with her instead of doing something about it.”

there was a pause before jisungs voice broke it, “i never said i was in love with her.”

“you didn’t have to.”

you decided that the conversation was important enough for you to ditch the idea of getting a glass of water and hurry back up to hyunjins room.

he groaned and shifted as your weight was added to the bed. he reached out towards you, pulling you close.

he mumbled through his sleepy state, “where’d you go?”

“i was thirsty.”

he hummed, falling back asleep almost right away.

you, however, didn’t shut your eyes for the rest of the night. you sat there in hyunjins arms thinking about jisung.

if he still liked you why did he end it? it didn’t make sense. who was he to break up with you and then get mad at you for moving on?

so there, secure in hyunjins arms, you spent the night staring at the sealing and trying to block out the thoughts that kept wishing they were jisungs.

you pouted as hyunjin packed a bag to go on an overnight trip. he was finally back to going on missions, but chan still wouldn’t clear you yet.

even if hyunjin had wanted to stay home from this mission, he was needed. it required skill and spy work that none of the other boys had, and it wasn’t something they could just choose not to do.

you followed hyunjin to the front of the house. you met only chan standing there, waiting for hyunjin.

“where are the others?”

chan gestured outside, “in the car already.”

you nodded, turning to hyunjin and giving him a kiss before he and chan walked out the door, pulling it shut behind them.

you sighed as you made your way to the lounge. watching movies wasn’t the same when you didn’t have a cuddle buddy. 

you weren’t allowed to go on missions and hyunjin had to go on this one, meaning you were left alone. 

or so you thought.

about half way through the movie, it started to sink in that you were alone. pouting, you paused the movie and made your way through the house and towards hyunjins room. surely he wouldn’t mind if you stole a hoodie or two while he was gone.

you had a specific hoodie in mind, a black one with some logo on the front. you didn’t really know the brand, you just knew that it was the softest sweatshirt he had.

what you didn’t have in mind was to see jisung leaving his room just as you were about to step into hyunjins.

you turned towards the noise of a door opening, surprised when you were met with jisung. wasn’t he supposed to be on the mission? chan had failed to mention that just because hyunjin was required on this mission, that didn’t mean it was an all hands on deck type of thing. who else was still home?

he scanned you and looked at where you were headed before scoffing.

“you don’t have to keep pretending. he’s not here.”

you frowned, “i’m not pretending anything, jisung.”

you took a step into hyunjins room, not expecting jisung to follow. he watched as you dug through the closet for that one specific hoodie. 

“right.”

you couldn’t find it anywhere.

“you’re suddenly in love with him when i break things off.”

maybe he’d taken it with him on the mission?

you glanced back at jisung, playing into the lie hyunjin had started days prior, “suddenly? nothing was sudden.”

he must have brought it with him. or maybe it was in the laundry? you wouldn’t mind that, it would only smell more like him. you moved across the room to his laundry basket.

ignoring your comment, jisung replied, “what are you looking for?”

offhandedly as you searched through hyunjins basket you responded, “a certain sweatshirt.”

he took a step closer to you, “want one of mine?” the question sounded more like a plea. 

your eyes snapped up to his, what game was he playing? 

you hated how badly you wanted to say yes.

your eyes narrowed in a glare, “i don’t want anything of yours anymore.”

lie.

“i’m over you, jisung.”

lie.

“i wish you’d just leave me alone.”

lie

“i’m happy with hyunjin.”

as much as you wanted it to be the truth, it was a lie.

and he knew it.

“y/n,” you took a step away from him when he took one closer to you, “please.”

his tone went from jealous and spiteful to begging, almost pitiful.

“can we just talk?”

you scoffed, remembering the words he’d said to you when you made the same request weeks earlier.

“there isn’t anything to talk about, jisung. we’re just coworkers.”

you snatched a random sweatshirt from the laundry and made a move to pass him, but he stepped in front of you, effectively blocking your way. he reached out and took the sweatshirt from your hands, tossing it right back into the laundry.

“y/n, just listen to me.”

you tried to move past him again, but this time he reached out and grabbed your arm to stop you.

you hated how good it felt to be touched by him again.

“when you got caught in the explosion, i was afraid, okay?”

you let your eyes meet his, “of what, jisung?” you pulled your arm from his grip, “i was the one who got fucking blown up!”

instead of raising his voice back, he kept it soft and calm.

“i was so worried that i was going to lose you. i didn’t want to get attached further and then babe you taken from me.” he let out a dry laugh, “and then, seeing you with hyunjin, i realized i’d just given you up.”

he was right. you felt your blood boil, he didn’t even try to fight for you. he ran away like a coward. 

“and i’m glad you did.”

his face fell, “you don’t mean that.”

you blinked away the tears building up in your eyes, “yes i do. i’m so happy you ended whatever pathetic excuse for love we had.”

you could practically see his heart shatter.

“y/n, you’re angry, i get that, but-“

you reached out suddenly, pounding your fists against his chest.

“yes, i’m angry! i’m so angry at you, jisung.” you allowed him to grab your wrists and pull you against him into a hug, “i’m so angry. i’m angry at you for breaking my heart. i’m angry at you for keeping me from being happy with hyunjin, and i’m angry with you because no matter how bad i wanna hate you, i can’t.”

he held you close to him, violently aware of the wet spot your tears were leaving on his shirt. the tears that you had because of him.

“i know baby, i know.” he held the back of your head to his chest as you cried into it, “i’m such an idiot. i never should have let you go.”

then he said something you never would have expected, no matter how many times you felt like saying the words to him yourself.

“i love you.”

to say he was relieved when you wrapped your arms around him would be a huge understatement. 

you raised your head and looked him in the eyes only to see that he had tears in them as well.

“i love you too.”

he pushed your hair from your face and spoke softly, almost as if he was afraid he would ruin the moment if he made too much noise, “can we try again?”

you smiled up at him and he didn’t miss the sadness laced in it, “if you promise not to break my heart again.”

of course, hyunjin wasn’t happy about the news, but he understood. deep down, he knew you would never feel the same for him as you did jisung. but he didn’t regret the time he spent with you or the words he’d shared. 

you didn’t regret it either. although it could be argued that he was just a rebound, he was much more than that to you. he held you and made you feel safe when you needed it most, and although you didn’t love him in the same way you loved jisung, you did love him.

months had passed since you and jisung had reunited, and this time it was official. he showed you off everywhere the two of you went and he used the words girlfriend and boyfriend like they were his favorite things to say. he knew what it felt like to lose you, and he never wanted to feel that way again.

he treated you how he should have from the start, how hyunjin had, and he kept his promise.

he didn’t break your heart ever again.

[atinytokki]

Paradise

vi. Bad Habit 

“You be good now, son,” were Father’s parting words. “Listen to your grandparents. I’ll see you as soon as I can get away.”

He had already said his goodbyes to Haneul, who was locked away in her bedroom, sick.

With the end of Father’s visit came school, and while San had enjoyed meeting his peers and flying through his course work last year, he was afraid it would be too easy for him this time.

Days spent inside gazing forlornly out windows while someone else told him things he already knew sounded less adventurous than they always made it out to be. And it sounded a lot like Haneul’s current state of existence; a prisoner.

Over the remainder of summer she had worsened and worsened. There was no evidence of this other than her decreasing time spent out in the world and Dr. Hong’s increasing time spent at their cottage.

He had met with Father last night, on the eve of his departure, apologising about taxes and prices and other things San didn’t understand. What he did understand was that Haneul now needed a medicine more expensive than they could afford.

“You’ll do as you’re told, right?” Father nudged as he began to pull away from a tight hug. “They really need you now.”

San could only nod weakly and relinquish his grip on his father as he stepped up to the front seat of the cart and let Grandfather drive on in the direction of the western docks. He would work ceaselessly when he arrived at home, every extra coin sent to Namhae for Haneul’s sake.

Managing household affairs was supposed to be a distant future for San, but already as he stood in the ocean and watched the sunrise, he could feel it creeping up.

He couldn’t be sure whether anything Dr. Hong had done was working or not, and Haneul didn’t seem keen to tell him.

San had fed her, administered every type of medicine they had in the cabinets, sung to her, read to her, played half a game of cards with her, and still nothing was bringing her out of her darkened mood.

Playing cards against someone who would rather stare out the window wasn’t the most fulfilling.

“Is something out there?” A high-pitched voice interrupted his musings. Little Inho had approached, school bag slung over his shoulder, likely expecting San to walk him to school. It was his first year and he was very excited.

“No, no,” he answered in a rush. “Just my imagination. You’re early.”

San’s observation changed the topic swiftly, and Inho went on to explain why he had come at the crack of dawn. “The garrison is finished! Don’t you want to go see it?”

“Are you sure?” San snorted, adjusting his own school bag and beginning the walk into town. The last thing he wanted was for some construction accident to befall the clumsy boy and become his responsibility.

“Yes, the officers who will attend it have already moved in,” Inho told him confidently, leading the way past shops and vendors to the site which had earlier been the source of constant noise and disruption.

“Woah,” San breathed when he laid eyes on it. It was no mere naval building, but an entire complex built near the town hall, complete with a jailhouse, offices, armoury, and some strange sort of display at the front that San couldn’t put a name to.

“Oh, the stocks and the whipping post,” Inho supplied easily when he asked. “Haven’t you heard of it? That’s where the criminal goes.”

“I thought criminals went to jail… or to the noose,” San muttered uncomfortably. They hadn’t been showcased for the town to see in strange torture devices, but then again, San had lived in a small town.

“But sometimes they go to the stocks or the whipping post,” Inho told him matter-of-factly, even as he stumbled over the long words. “To be publicly shamed.”

“Do you think there will be many criminals there?” San asked, not sure who he was addressing his question to, or why he was even asking.

Inho could do no more than shrug and skip away in the direction of the schoolhouse, sending San hurrying after him.

Considering how smart Inho was, San had no worries about his performance in class, so he turned his thoughts to his own situation.

Other than the several new students— children of naval officers moving in, according to the morning announcements— nothing much had changed.

There were more arithmetic problems to solve, more scientific experiments to conduct, and more ancient tragedies that hit too close to home to read.

Due to Haneul’s absence, the schoolmaster sent books home on San’s back for her to read, and even when he tried reading them to her she didn’t become conscious enough to show signs of paying attention.

It seemed like she was getting worse and worse and their relationship was following suit.

The wind fluttered the curtains of his bedroom where San watched birds fly out to sea and wished he could follow.

For the evening it was just him and Haneul while their grandparents went on an evening walk along the beach.

It was the first of many evenings like that, where Haneul stayed in her room and San in his, alone save for his imagination, his books, and the small wooden pirate ship he had whittled in secret.

Regardless of the new boys he sometimes played with, San felt less and less connected as he entered his teenage years. As excited as he had been about Namhae when he arrived as a child, it no longer seemed that he belonged. That he had ever belonged in the first place.

Surrounded by the ocean, the very symbol of freedom, life was nonetheless monotonous and restricting. School was followed by work in the carpentry shop and then sitting in silence by Haneul’s bedside, watching his grandparents leave for their walk, and if he was lucky enough, sneaking out to play with his new friends along the beach at night.

Without really realising it, he was acting out the way he did as a small child when life was frustrating. San was a man of action, and if there was nothing to be done, he resorted to desperate but futile acts in a disturbed mood.

On one such winter evening the year he turned fourteen, his grandparents returned early from a shorter beach walk, hands held the whole time, to see San hurriedly putting the carpentry shop back together after some rowdiness with the officers’ children.

Neither of them spoke, and Grandmother simply padded upstairs to let her husband deal with the problem.

“Is anything broken?” He eventually asked a silent San, who quickly shook his head and continued putting chairs upright and tools back on the bench. “What exactly did you boys do in here?”

San exhaled through his nose before admitting, “We were studying at first but some of them brought die and cards so we ended up playing…”

“And drinking?” Grandfather finished for him, voice unchanged though there was disappointment in his eyes.

“No,” San lied smoothly. “Some of the older boys did, but—”

“But this is how you spend your evenings?” The older man cut to the heart of the matter, settling into his chair while a long pause unfolded in the wake of his question.

Maybe it was the effects of the rice wine but as soon as San opened his mouth, he couldn’t stop.

“I’ve been to probably every place on this whole island. I know everyone who lives here. If this is how I spend my evenings it’s because there’s nothing else to do. Haneul is upstairs dying and no one cares, not even Dr. Hong. Do you know it’s been six months since he recommended a new medicine? The one I feed her every day does nothing. The money Father sends from the mainland does nothing. All the books I read in school, and all the furniture we sell in the shop, and all the friends I make do nothing, Grandfather. Maybe if you would just fix up the sailboat like you promised when we first came, maybe then I’d feel like I wasn’t so trapped on this island where every day is the same and nothing I do changes anything.”

Finally out of breath, he couldn’t bear Grandfather’s heartbroken eyes on him any longer and ran to his room.

As he cried into his pillow he tried to pinpoint the moment it had all gone wrong. His life wasn’t supposed to be like this.

The more he thought about it in his hazy, turbulent mind, the more he realised it had always been this way. And it was never going to change.

Morning brought the same gentle quiet of crashing waves and calling birds and the walk to school. San managed to avoid seeing his grandparents until school was done for the day, too guilty to know what to say to them if he did.

He and Grandfather worked in silence on a set of new sliding windows for Mr. Shim, and San was content to keep it that way, letting his actions speak with apology instead of his words.

But soon enough Grandfather opened his mouth.

“Your father hasn’t been sending money.”

San sat up from his work and furrowed his brows in confusion.

“It’s too dangerous,” Grandfather explained with a sigh. “Pirates and all. We wouldn’t want it to be stolen.”

Pirates were a variable none of them had accounted for. Although San’s friends always assured him the Royal Navy had them on the run, they were enough of a threat for trade to be severely impacted.

“Would you like to come on some of our evening walks?” Grandfather offered as they cleaned up and closed the shop. “That’s how your Grandmother and I deal with being powerless, and it might keep you out of trouble.”

The truth was, San did want to go. He had always wanted to tag along, because anything was better than watching Haneul toss and turn with pained moans, her clouded eyes far away from him and the seaside paradise their home used to be.

But he turned up his nose and faced away to hide his wet eyes. “No.”

Not if the only reason was to keep him out of trouble.

Life went on that afternoon and every afternoon following, with the issue dropped. San didn’t invite his friends over again, and only arranged to meet them at one of their houses or the beach.

Just before winter break, he went out one evening and nearly stumbled over the sailboat. Muttering to himself, he bent down to push it out of the way before the reason for its appearance dawned on him.

“It’s fixed!” He realised, eyes filling up with happy tears as he danced around the thing and quickly ran to Mr. Shim’s to knock on the door.

“Excuse me, sir!” He panted when the old ferryman opened it for him. “The boat— our boat— my grandfather finally fixed it! Can you, I mean would you, if it’s not an inconvenience, possibly be able to teach me how to sail it?”

Mr. Shim blinked at him for a moment before straightening and taking a glance at the setting sun. “I’ll send Jiyong to meet you in the square tomorrow afternoon?”

A slow smile spread on San’s face as he nodded his agreement and bowed respectfully several times over in thanks.

Tomorrow afternoon couldn’t come soon enough.

San flew through his schoolwork and brushed off his friends, begged Grandfather to let him off work early just this once and arrived in town’s central square right on time.

It was busier than usual by the garrison, and as San approached the crowd that had gathered he learned why.

Someone was chained to the whipping post, and an officer was flogging him right there for the whole island to see.

Wincing as a blow struck the man’s skin and left angry red blood trails behind, San wondered aloud who was being punished.

“A pirate,” Jiyong’s voice answered him as he drew up alongside the teenager, joining the crowd with his arms crossed to peer above heads and view the spectacle. “Not sure whose crew he belongs to, but he’s definitely one of the pirates they caught over the weekend.”

It was no disturbing occurrence, San reminded himself in an effort to keep from plugging his ears against the pirate’s cries. He had seen pirates before, almost been attacked by one in that cave on Dalhae.

He should be happy a pirate was getting his comeuppance.

“What’s going to happen to him?” San couldn’t help but ask when the man was unchained and dragged back into the prison, listless and painted in his own blood.

Jiyong let out an acknowledging hum before launching into an explanation.

“Well, you see, according to our laws here in Jaecho, when someone is caught with reasonable suspicion of being a pirate or of aiding a pirate, the navy can within its rights have them imprisoned, whipped, and whatever other interrogation tactics they use in there. But it’s not always a good idea to beat a suspected pirate, especially in public, should the claim be proven wrong and the accused demand reparations and public apologies. That would be… embarrassing.”

“I take it that situation has happened before,” San snorted.

Jiyong joined the laughter for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “A few times that I can think of.”

The sound of the door closing ominously behind the unlucky prisoner brought San’s attention back to the man’s fate. “Will he be executed?”

“Not unless he’s a proven pirate,” Jiyong rattled off instantly. “And to be one of those you must be either found guilty and sentenced to death by court, or marked with a pirate brand from a previous encounter, in which case the trial can be skipped.”

San went pale when it dawned on him why. There must be so many executions to get to that skipping the court process for several of them was necessary.

Jiyong continued, oblivious, “The branding is Admiral Kim’s tactic of keeping track of pirates that may slip through his fingers the first time he arrests them without enough evidence. If he catches them again, in the act of piracy or not, as long as he finds a brand he can have them hung and whatever else he pleases as soon as the schedule allows. And all the other pirates will see the corpse hung from the gibbet and beware.”

San shivered but spoke up as he caught on, “So since this man has been at the whipping post, there’s a high chance he really is a pirate, just an unbranded one?”

“Exactly. Or else we might’ve been watching his execution.”

Knowing that was a sight he would rather not try to stomach, San turned towards the harbour and Jiyong followed him.

“How do you know all this about courts and convictions anyway?” He asked the older man, who laughed and rubbed his neck bashfully.

“I study law when I’m not working,” Jiyong admitted, frowning when San seemed confused by the fact. “Did you think I was only going to work for Mr. Shim for the rest of my life?”

“But you’re his apprentice, you’re supposed to take over his business,” San reminded him matter-of-factly, crossing his arms in a way that probably looked a tad childish. After all, that was what Grandfather expected of him with regards to the carpentry shop.

“There’s no reason I can’t do both,” Jiyong insisted as the ocean came into view. “You don’t have to just take what you’re given in this world, ferrying passengers is fine but if there’s a chance to move up in status, I’d be a fool not to take it. Besides, it’s not like you haven’t taken up some bad habits.”

Clearly knowing too much, he accompanied his final remark with a wink and San found it necessary to change the subject to sailing before his behaviour was further exposed.

San got his first taste that day as Jiyong taught him everything he could possibly learn in a single afternoon about the handling of a small sailboat. And the following weekend he taught him everything else he could learn.

Grandfather had fixed the vessel for him in order to satiate his rebellious desires but, even as grateful as San was for his gift, the boat was quickly put to use for more unruly evenings.

He played hooky on and off for the rest of the school year, just enough to avoid being caught, and went out when he wasn’t permitted to. From his perspective it wasn’t as if he sailed into dangerous waters or endangered other passengers, and what Grandfather didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

For the time being it seemed he had no inkling. Haneul, on the other hand, did.

“Were you sailing?” The muttered question, barely louder than a whisper, interrupted his reading aloud.

San could only blink at her, surprised, as she gazed at him with her clear and piercing eyes, reflecting the candlelight by her bedside.

“You’re awake…” he breathed, stumbling to his feet in excitement. “Yes I was sailing, how did you know?”

Haneul’s expression didn’t change, but she glanced out the window and her eyes landed on the autumn moon. School had begun again after a scorching summer and San continued his nightly adventures unbeknownst to anyone else.

“You smell of the sea.”

San sat down again but closed the book and placed it on the table. Haneul hadn’t directly spoken to him in a couple of weeks, and even when she was coherent enough to do so, they never had much to talk about.

“Is it true you’re going to visit Father?” She asked quietly after a moment. It sounded like she wished she could come along.

San wasn’t sure how she even knew about those plans, considering the fact that he had only just asked Grandfather for permission that afternoon, but he nodded in answer and watched her face fall.

“I would bring you along but you’re still feeling ill and you don’t like sailing anyway and—”

“You need more attention than you’ve been getting,” she translated softly.

And, as usual, Haneul was correct but it embarrassed San to admit it.

“It’s just that I haven’t spent much time with him in the past few years.”

Because when he visits, he spends it with you, went unsaid.

“I’ll go over to Dr. Hong’s and ask if Eunkyung and Eunae can come visit you after school so you aren’t alone,” San offered when she didn’t reply.

The prospect brightened her mood for the rest of the evening, and as promised, San knocked on the neighbours’ door with his request before bed.

Eunkyung and Eunae had been too busy to manage more than a few afternoons at the Choi cottage, especially since there weren’t many games Haneul could participate in from the confines of her bed.

“How long will you be gone?” Inho asked with a pout as San slipped his shoes back on and prepared to go home, arrangements made.

“I’m not sure yet, maybe a week or so? You can survive walking to school without me for that long, right?”

Inho huffed but eventually agreed. “My noonas can take me. They’re boring compared to you, though.”

San couldn’t help but blush at the praise and gave the young boy an affectionate head pat before walking home and crawling into bed.

Perhaps it had been an exaggeration when he thought no one cared about him anymore. Sure, he often was alone and felt more like an outsider than ever, but he had Haneul, he had his grandparents, he had Inho and Jiyong and his friends at school, and most of all, he had sailing.

He dreamed about wind in his hair and sea grass bending over as if greeting a prince, the sky on fire with colour before him as he proceeded to his boat.

It was practically sailing itself across smooth and shining waves and San could sit back and feel the setting sun on skin.

He was where he belonged.

...

A/N: I have become swamped my school :< Been meaning to write this for some time, hopefully I’ll get a schedule underway but thanks for your patience, don’t forget to comment and motivate me lol and stay tuned ❤️

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[captain-danwilds]

One Step Forward

Hi @avengerpercy! I realize I didn’t take Brazil’s timezone into account when posting this so I’m sorry this is technically late, but here’s your @aftgexchange gift.  I hope this is good enough for you Cristal.  This is my first time playing in the AFTG sandbox, so I wanted to live up to your expectations.  I ended up using your prompt “Andrew and Aaron talking and solving their problems”  for a little outsider POV Andreil fluff with a large helping of twinyards.   

A few quick notes. Betsy and the joint sessions set the backdrop for this fic even though I am not a therapist and also not trying to make some statement about therapy in general (Personally I’m a big fan, but also recognize that Aaron really doesn’t seem to be in we’re in his POV.) I’m not trying to demonize Aaron or Andrew here.  Aaron just fundamentally misunderstands Andrew.  Also Raven King/Drake Incident references.  

Ever since Aaron had found out Andrew existed, he’d felt unsteady.   It wasn't just the sudden knowledge of how different his life could have been if Tilda hadn't decided to come back to get him or even if she'd just taken the other baby.   It was the fact his brother was a mass of contradictions piled on top of each other and every aspect of their relationship was built on the idea of one step forward and two steps back.

Aaron wasn't an idiot.  When the officer at the stupid game had mentioned Andrew, Aaron didn't expect his long-lost brother to immediately love him.  This wasn't a television show.   He knew by now that blood only went so far, that it hadn't stopped his mother from raising her hand to him or Uncle Luthor from sending Nicky away only for his cousin to come back a shell of himself.  But he couldn't deny he wanted it to work desperately, for there to be another little boy out there whose life might be made better by having a brother in it.  

His first step forward a letter that had to be rewritten at least twice because everything sounded wrong.  His bedroom trash can overflowed with pieces of notebook paper crumpled in frustration or with ink smeared from tears he'd never admit to anyone he'd actually shed.  Aaron must have spent hours writing the letter, typing it up in stolen time at the school library and sneaking to the post office while Mom had been out of it.  

Hours completely wasted when the only reply was two words:  "Fuck Off."

That should have been the sign to leave things well enough alone.  

But instead, he'd taken the return address and written a second letter to "the guardians of Andrew Doe."  

And instead of an answer from his brother, Aaron had gotten a voicemail saying Andrew had gone to Juvie.  

Even the slightest hint of progress was met with resistance.    

Gaining a brother meant losing his mom and never being in control of his decisions anymore.  

Andrew lived by his own rules, an unspoken tally system of betrayals where Aaron would never be the one who measured up.  Andrew wouldn't say it, because Andrew didn't say anything now that he was off the drugs.  Aaron knew his brother only cared about him in context of proving that he'd never broken their deal.  Until he called the whole thing off for Josten.  

Josten, the idiot that would say things like "Andrew doesn't lie"  as if he actually believed him.  As if there truly was some magical code his brother followed that made sense.    

"If you really don't care about Andrew, why does Neil bother you so much?"   Dobson asked during their Wednesday session.

Aaron dug his fingers into the couch.  He hated this.  Hated that the only time he could get answers out of Andrew was when he was sitting in front of a shrink.   A shrink who was undoubtedly on his brother's side. And that in order to get answers he had to rip himself raw first.  

"I understand that therapy isn't for everyone,"  She'd said smiling gently during their first mandatory meeting freshman year.  "More than that, therapy with me might not be your answer,  so don't let today stop you from seeking help in the future if that's what you decide you want.  I can direct you to one of my colleagues who you might feel more comfortable with."  

They'd been meeting for almost a year now and Aaron still wasn't comfortable with her, no matter how many cups of hot chocolate she offered or how many smiles she gave.   They'd come a long way from the complete silence and blank expression of his first individual session or even the harsh words the first time he'd shown up to Andrew's session, but it wasn't comfortable by any means.  

The point was he wasn't about to pour his heart out to her even if Andrew wasn't in the room.  With Andrew there, Aaron had no good way to answer the question without giving too much of himself away again, of being hurt when everything went to hell. Still, Aaron couldn't help but let the multitude of answers flow over him.  

Because Josten waltzes in, every ounce of him screaming lie and danger, and this team bends over backwards for him. Because Aaron's seen enough to know Josten is dangerous.  Because he will kill him if Josten doesn't keep his big mouth from bring the mafia down on them again before Aaron graduates and he can't handle another murder trial.  Because Josten makes it so easy, throwing as many insults back as he gives.   Those are the easy answers, because Aaron's life doesn't revolve around Andrew. He can hate Josten because Josten is a piece of shit who makes every aspect of his life harder.  

But that's also not the whole truth.  Because he saw the way Andrew looked at him in Baltimore, the tender movements in his hands completely at odds with the angry spark in his eyes.  Because Andrew hates people touching him and yet he doesn't hesitate to wrap his hand around the back of Josten's neck.  Because there's something aggravating in the way that Andrew can look at Josten and see something precious when he never looks at Aaron like that.  

Aaron doesn't want to think his life revolves around Andrew, but his hatred of Josten certainly does.  It’s partially jealousy.  Why does this nobody get easy answers from Andrew?  What makes him so special?  

But the larger issue is that Aaron has seen Andrew broken.  As much as Aaron wants to wish Drake away, he can’t.  He’ll never be able to get Andrew’s face out of his head or the manic laugh left by the drugs. There are nights where he wakes up feeling like he still has the blood on his hands, that he’ll never be free of the feeling of Andrew knotting his fingers through his hair in worry when Andrew’s the one covered in bruises.  Seeing his brother like that once was enough to break him.  He doesn’t understand how Andrew can let Josten so close when Josten is a walking danger magnet.  He doesn’t know what he would do when Josten inevitably hurts Andrew, because that’s the type of danger Andrew can’t just stab with a knife.    

Betsy gave a small cough and Aaron knew he'd been quiet too long.  He avoided Betsy's gaze to look at the clock.  They were already a few minutes over their time.   He wouldn’t have answered at all, just turned back to glare at Betsy until she dismisses them both for the day except he saw Andrew.  

Andrew was still angled away from him on the opposite end of the couch.  His mouth was still turned in a slight frown, but Andrew’s gaze had sharpened.  Even months ago, Aaron might have missed it.  It was a sign of amusement, slight exasperation maybe, but also one of want.  Aaron had never seen that expression for any reason other than Josten, and now it’s directed at him.

“Josten isn’t safe.”  

Andrew gave a huff that might even be considered laughter.

“I’m serious. You’re giving him the power to hurt you.  Just because you don’t care about your own wellbeing, doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by and let him get away with it.”  

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”  Andrew waved his hand dismissively.  “Which is good because you’re shit at picking the right battles.”  

Aaron groaned.  “And what do you mean by that?”  

“Neil won’t hurt me.”  He said it like it should be obvious, like he can’t believe Aaron missed something so fundamental.  

“But how can you know that?”  

“How do you know Kaitlyn won’t hurt you?”  The words were thrown like a weapon to end this conversation.  

But Aaron isn’t about to rise to the bait.  Andrew seemed to think that every girl was just going to be another Tilda, that Aaron would let them hurt him for the scraps of affection.  He knew Andrew didn’t decide Kaitlyn was safe out of the goodness of his heart, so his answer made no sense.  

“Why shouldn’t I be worried about Neil hurting you?”  Aaron repeated himself more directly, even calling the idiot by his first name as a sign of good will.  

Andrew looked down at his hands, his right-hand tracing seemingly random places around each of the knuckles on his left.  The gesture seemed both familiar and wrong.   Finally Andrew took a deep breath and looked directly at Aaron.  

“He listens when I say no.”

The words are simple, but Aaron can hear the depth of meaning there.  He gave a slight nod.

Andrew must still see that he doesn’t fully understand, because he continued softly, “He promised he’d stay” before nodding at Betsy and leaving the two of them alone in the room.  

Aaron doesn’t hear Betsy’s chipper goodbye or even comprehend most of practice afterwards. His mind is reeling and even though Andrew only gave him ten words, it feels like one hell of a step forward.  

It’s only later at one of the Fox movie nights that Aaron realized why Andrew’s fidgeting looked wrong.  He’d seen that gesture before.  Andrew’s right hand gently tracing the scars on Neil’s as they sit side by side in silence, barely acknowledging each other but still taking pleasure in each other’s presence.   It’s easy to miss the moment when Neil leans easily back into Andrew and Andrew only tugs their scarred hand closer.  

Aaron hated that it’s this little action is what finally makes him understand. Andrew’s words about Kaitlyn no longer felt like a dig.   It was his brother’s roundabout way of trying to phrase his relationship with Neil in a way Aaron would understand. When you love someone, the world seems safer with them in it.  Andrew might not have said the word love, but he didn’t have to.