#while a 2:2 is shrug not bad not great and anything lower is considered 'embarrassing'

[hella1975]

what does it mean to average 2:1 or 2:2? I don’t think we do that in America

okay so the uni grading system here is done based on percentages. the pass mark is 40%, which americans ALWAYS hit me with 'only 40???? easy!!!' so id like to clarify the content/exams are very difficult and the marking is very mean and generally it's really frustrating when people respond this way, like why tf would we have such a low pass grade otherwise it's a dumb assumption to make but anyway. you do about 6 modules a semester (on average, some courses have more/less), and each module will give you a final grade, and then the average of all your modules from both semesters will give you your final year grade. they're all marked by the same system, which is:

grade of less than 40% = fail

grade of 40%-50% = third class honours (called a third)

grade of 50%-60% = lower second class honours (a 2:2, literally said aloud as 'i got a two-two in my exam')

grade of 60%-70% = upper second class honours (a 2:1, said as 'i got a two-one'). this is what im PRAYING for.

grade of 70%+ = first class honours (just called a first). this is the highest you can get, so even if you get 90% you'll have the same grade as someone who got 72%. this is also what i mean by the exam system being really tough here, bc most people are just grateful to get a first.

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 2)

Chapter Summary: You did make a deal.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 5.5k

Warnings:+18 only, smut, sex deprived reader, boytoy!Bucky, mention to break ups, mention to bad sexual experiences, casual sex, opened relationship.

A/N: You guys and all the feedback you’re giving to this story are just my everything. Thank you for your patience, if you follow my stories for a while you all know I’m a slow writer and not even social distancing seems to be changing that. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated. I was going to close the tag list for this series at 70, but you’ve been really amazing, so I’m extending it to 80 spots for now. All I ask of you is, if you’re tagged and liked what you read, please leave me a nice little comment.  Thank you, @lesqui​ 

 Saturday mornings have always been like any other morning to you. Waking up early, making some black coffee and fixing up something quick to eat . Then checking up on your schedule for the day, which more times than you dare to count consisted of working from home and that’s it. Nothing special.  

But this Saturday morning is nothing like the other ones, this morning has actually already passed since you wake up past noon, a lot later than you’re used to, take a long bath with all the pampering accessories you found in your bathroom - something you hadn’t done in a very long time- plaster your face with a moisturizing mask you’ve bought on a late night online shopping spree and has never used, wrap your body in a robe, your hair in a towel and go to the kitchen to make your usual black coffee but also a few chocolate pancakes as a treat to the atypical hunger making your stomach groan loudly.

ThisSaturday is nothing like the other ones because you have the memory, on your mind and your whole body, of three fantastic orgasms you were gifted with the night before. If it was up to you, Bucky Barnes and his sinful tongue would get all the awards in the world.

While you hum a soft tune and flip your pancakes, the night before replays like a movie on your mind, taking small giggles out of you and causing a warm rush to creep up your neck. The man sure knows his game, touching all the right places, playing with your body just perfectly, luring you into a very much needed and longed ecstasy.  On top of that, he was nothing but generous and seemed to get himself off by getting you off and, now that you’re thinking about it, a man acting that way in bed is something entirely new to you.

You have to send Natasha a present, maybe that expensive vodka she’s always drinking…

The memory of your friend quickly fades and the sinful picture of Bucky Barnes’s face between your legs pops back into your mind as you drop the pancakes on a plate and sit by the counter to devour them with your coffee. What a night you had. The whole no strings attached situation makes it even more… enjoyable, you dare say, much more than you thought it would be. There is no dwelling on whether you should text him to say hello, or call him, no need to hold back who you really are or what you really want in favor to make a good impression, nor to think about meeting friends, family, no fear of disappointments from both sides… it was just plain good old sex, which you’ve realized it’s all you need and are looking for.

You hum at the sweet taste of the pancake and take a sip from your coffee. There’s no worries in your mind, no regrets, nothing like that. Except for one thought: the fact you didn’t even get to see his cock. The bulge alone grinding against you was already impressive enough to make your mouth water… Everything was amazing, more than perfect, actually, and left you completely spent and utterly satisfied, more than you’ve been in a long time, if you’re going to be honest with yourself. But now you only get to imagine how it would be if you two had gotten to the whole package, the real deal…

Unless…

You had thought about that night as a one-time occurrence, something to take your edge off and move on, but...  He did propose a deal… And you did take said deal… to call him if you needed anything… You stare dreamily ahead as you take a fork filled with pancake to your mouth and flashes of the feeling of his bulge pressed against your back, grinding on your core take over your senses… it took your breath away then and just the memory is making a number on your lungs.

You sure have a need now.

Glimpsing your phone over the balcony, you reach for it, loving you don’t have to care whether it is too soon or not to do what you’re about to do…but a new message pops up on the screen as soon as you unlock it. Natasha letting you know she was sent away for a mission with Steve Rogers but should go back in a week and wanted to schedule dinner for you to tell her everything… You type her a quick answer, agreeing on dinner, before tapping on the brand new contact of your list, added by Natasha Romanoff herself.

Bucky “Soft Tongue” Barnes.  

You’ll change it. Eventually…

~~~

“So… my place this time, huh?”

The smirk on Bucky’s lips is cocksure enough to make you take a long sip of the beer he offered you, while he lazily leans his elbow on the backrest of his sofa, supporting his head on his hand. You're thankful for the alcohol and for the fact that, this time, he hasn’t gone straight to business. Yes, you’ve been feeling bold and excited in having those kinds of encounters with a - hot as fuck - guy you barely knew. But this is new, and you know you must be careful and gentle to yourself, so it doesn’t blow up in your face eventually. Thankfully, Bucky seems to read the situation just fine since he’s been in cue with your rhythm from the very first moment.  

“Did you have any other plans?” you ask, biting your lower lip and hoping your presence isn’t actually a bother.

“I was happy to see your text.” Even if his answer is kind of vague considering your question, it eases the tension on your shoulders at his wide and comforting smile, “We did make a deal…” His voice is a tone lower as he peeks at you from under his lashes, taking his beer to his lips.

You take in a deep breath as your gaze drops to his lips, “Yes, we did.” You gulp, as your body tightens, feeling the rise of the tension in the air, enhanced by flashes of last night when you two settled said deal. 

His chuckle is a tad dark and laced with mischief and oh, man it makes your skin tingles when he drags his body just an inch closer, his beautiful blue eyes fastened on you.

“Ahm, Bucky… can I ask you something?” You try not to let your voice come out too small, as the heat of his body rolls off to yours and makes your core flutter.

“Sure.”

“How does this work?”  

He frowns as his head tilts a bit sideward, “This what?”

“This… ahm,” you clear your throat, “Deal…  I mean, I’m pretty interested, pretty, pretty interested.” You stress the word and your eyes widen a bit at the honesty slipping out of your lips, but you realize that’s actually how being around Bucky has made you feel, giving his own honesty behavior with you, just like now when he expresses no kind of reaction that would make you feel embarrassed or anything of that nature, so you let yourself continue, “But you must know I’ve got out of a relationship recently. It was really serious …10 years.” You chuckle when he huffs and takes a sip of his beer, “Anyway, I’m not really sure how to handle this.” You gesture between you two, “Should we establish any sort of rules, or something?” You shrug questioningly. Every single movie you saw or book you read where the characters had a deal like that they ended up establishing some rules, you’re not sure if that’s what you’re supposed to do here, but…

“Rules?” His whole face scrunches up, “Let me tell you something, sweetheart,” he lets out a long exhale, “My entire life, all I did was to follow damn rules. Even to this day, I have to follow them all the time in my job, whether is from the fucking government, the pain in my ass which is Stark or Fury and, believe me, even from the giant asshole of my best friend who’s pretty jacked up now but was nothing than a skinny angry ass, like, yesterday… Yeah, you know the punk, don’t you?” He smiles when you hold back a laugh, “It’s all about rules, rules, rules… I have to endure them when it comes to work, but I don’t like them in my personal life.”

He smiles that dazzling smile and you can’t help to offer him a small one, too. You see where he’s coming from. Given what you know of his life, he lived a very strict, military life ever since an early age in the 30’s. You don’t even have to elaborate on what happened next and everything he endured… now he’s part of the damn Avengers… Just like that, you start to get a bit more of Bucky Barnes and why he seems to live his life so lightly and freely now…

“Listen…” he continues, after taking a sip from his beer, “Let’s just have some fun… I loved spending time with you last night, I love that you’re here now and I love even more the prospects of tonight…” He smirks and you gulp down at the promise that comes with it, “I just wanna enjoy our time together, I don’t need rules to do that.” He pauses, as his face turns a bit more serious, differing from the light demeanor he’s been showing so far, “Do you wanna set any rules, though?”

You ponder his question. You did bring the subject up, because that’s what you think you should’ve done, but, now that you think about it, nothing comes to your mind. You kinda love his philosophy. No overthinking, just fun and no rules… “No, actually. I can’t think of anything,’ you decide.

“Great.” He smiles and nods, before his face turns serious again, “There’s one thing I need to clear up, though.” He stops and looks deeply into your eyes, as waiting for your consent before continuing.

“Oh, alright.” You encourage him to elaborate.

“As much as I’m looking forward to getting to know you and spending time with you, there’s absolutely no prospect of this turning into some kind of romantic relationship. See, I like the way I live my life too much and chances are I won’t be exclusive to you,” he says fixing his gaze on yours as if gauging your reaction to what his words, “What I’m saying is if I feel like it, I’ll have sex with other people and I highly encourage you to do the same if that’s something you want. The serum made me immune to any disease, but I’m obviously not against protection,” he adds and you feel your cheeks burning, it still blows you away how comfortably he talks about sex and how blatantly honest he is. You like and are getting used to it, but you’re just not there yet, “We can be friends, or not, we can just fuck our brains out, but we won’t go further than that. I need to know you’re aware and consenting on this, I need to know you’re on the same vibe as mine before we continue… having fun together.” He speaks seriously, but you see the tiny and suggestive curl on his lips when he finishes and waits for your answer.

You let out a small laugh under your breath, “I wouldn’t stress about it… I’m still in love with my boyfriend, to be honest. So, don’t worry about me wanting to turn this into something ahm… romantical.” You wave your hand between the two of you.  

“Uh, ok,” He raises a brow and nods, pondering your response, “We’re cool then?” He checks again.

“We’re cool,” You nod and raise your beer.

He promptly bumps his bottle to yours as you seal your deal with a toast and a shared smile.

“So, still in love with him, huh?” He asks, absentmindedly, after you two take a sip from the beer, “Was it a bad break up?”

“Not really,” you answer, looking down at your finger circling the rim of the bottle, “I just wasn’t expecting it… I thought I was gonna spend the rest of my life with him… it was settled.” You shrug, “And then, nothing was certain anymore. I’m sorry,” you quickly add, shaking your head with a tight smile on your lips. The last thing you want is to talk about Eddie. And you’re pretty sure that’s not what Bucky expects from the night, either.

“Hey.” He hooks his finger under your chin, lifting it up so you look back at him, “No rules remember? We can talk, we’re not sex robots or anything.”

Your head falls back when you laugh, “Alright.” You nod as he smiles at you, “But I don’t really want to talk about my breakup, now.”

He nods back, accepting your position, “Can I ask you something?” He’s the one to talk again after you two drink from the beer, “Last night,” he continues when you give him your consent, “When I went down on you. Was that the first time?”

There he goes again, talking so freely... You don’t feel your cheeks burning this time, though.

“No,” you answer, and he lifts his eyebrows, showing a bit of surprise at the answer, “It was the second, actually…” You’re quick to add, tightening your lips, “That obvious, huh?” You laugh quietly as your shoulders drop a bit.  

Bucky shrugs, “It’s just that you seemed a bit self-conscious about it…” He brings his bottle to his lips, but stops it midair, “At first…” he smirks at you once again and winks.  

You let out a small chuckle, looking down, playing with the almost empty bottle in your hands, “And I was…” You turn your body to face him, folding your legs on his sofa and leaning your arm on his backrest. It might be the alcohol, or just his laid-back and comforting presence that makes you want to share it with him, “You see, I’ve dated Eddie since college and he was my first…you know?” You bit on your lower lip as he nods at you to continue, nothing changing on his expression at the information, “And what happened was that he was never really a fan of that… we tried once, years ago and that was it… I knew he was grossed out by it, so I never asked him again.”

Clearing your throat, you look away, bringing you your beer to your lips to conceal any sign of embarrassment your face might indicate, you can’t believe you just shared that with him, you know how pitiful that sounds and what a turn off that must be. You’re there to have sex and are sharing how unexperienced you are? Not cool.

You feel his eyes fixed on you, and, when your gaze is attracted to his like a magnet, the pity you thought you would see on his face just isn’t there. Instead, it’s something entirely different you catch on his expression and his eyes. Never parting his focus from you, he puts his beer on the center table and reaches for yours, placing it next to his. He drags his body closer, and his smell – no cologne, just his own manly smell with a hint of what must be a fancy shampoo-  fills in your nostrils, making you breathe in deeply the inebriant scent, “You know what came to my mind while I was listening to you?”

The sultry tone in his voice is almost hypnotic as your lips part and your gaze drops to his, “What?” you murmur.

“Last night…” He licks his lips before drawing his lower one between his teeth, “Your taste…” He leans forward, brushing his lips on your earlobe, causing your breath to hitch in your throat, “Your shaky legs around my shoulders…” His flash hand finds your knee before sneaking up your thigh, carrying goosebumps on its way, “And those sinful sounds you made while I had your pussy in my mouth.” He grabs your earlobe in a gentle bite at the same time his wandering hand grabs harshly the flesh of your thigh underneath your dress, pulling a breathy whine out of you.

He drags his lips to yours and the kiss is sensual, slow moves of his tongue against yours as his lips are a soft and breathtaking caress. You realize you would be willing to spend the whole night just like that… kissing him, as your tongue laces around his and he lures you to melt into him… But he seems to have other plans in mind. You can’t help but seek his lips again as he parts them from yours.  

“And this is what thinking about all of that does to me…” Boring his blue, now darker than ever, eyes on yours he grabs your hand from your lap and brings it to the bulge in his pants.

You gasp at the sensation in your hand as he guides your hand with his to brush the firm and large hardness. Everything about the situation is sexy and makes you light in your head and hot in your body: the way he moans as you move your hand, his warm breath slipping from his parted lips and fanning over yours, how his eyes flutter for just a second before fixing on yours again, his scent, his shameless words… 

“Just to think about eating your pussy…the mere thought of it…. Fuck, it turns me on,” he whispers and lets go of your hand, allowing it to move on its own as he lunges at you again, kissing and nibbling your lips a lot harder than the first time

You kiss him back fiercely while keeping your hand on his cock, palming it through his jeans. You already can tell how thick he is and a fluttering sensation bubbles down your lower belly as the desire to feel his cock inside you takes over your senses and makes you weak in your legs.

“Shit, I can’t wait to do that again…” He drags his lips down your collarbone, whispering between kisses and licks on your skin, “But right now, what I want is to feel your pussy around my cock. Is that what you want, too?”

“Oh, yeah,” you promptly answer, eyelashes fluttering shut at the thought as you press your hand harder against his hardness and digs your finger on his loose locks, “I want it… I want this cock so bad.”

“Bedroom,” he announces, swiftly getting up and pulling you with him.

By the time you get to his bedroom, he already has his shirt off and you’re only in your set of black lingerie, discarded clothes and shoes left on the short way from the living room. Peppering kisses down his neck, you unbutton and unzips his jeans.  

“Holy fuck.” It slips out of you in a breath when you look down and takes sight of his cock bobbing between you two as you pull his pants along with his underwear down his legs.

It’s big… and thick… and beautiful, you dare say…"Wow," it slips out of you unannounced as you keep staring down and you hear a chuckle from him, a tad too smug chuckle, because he damn well knows… of course, he does.

As he proceeds to ravish your neck, grabbing two handfuls of your ass through your underwear, you can’t help but wrap your fingers around him. You can’t take your eyes off your hand playing slowly with it, entranced by how thick and hard he is, anticipating the feeling of him inside you as you swipe your thumb over the tip...

“Stop, stop.” The rasped plea takes you out of your reverie as his forehead falls on your shoulder and his hand stops yours, “I’ll come all over your hand if you keep that up,’ he explains, laying a kiss on the crook of your neck.

You chuckle and bring your arms to circle his broad shoulders instead, peppering kisses on his stubbled jaw.

“Let’s go to bed, or this will be over too soon.” You can hear the smile on his lips as he squeezes your ass and steps out of his bunched jeans and underwear, guiding you to his bed.

Through kisses, licks, bites, and wandering hands on each other, he lays you down and positions himself hovering you after unhooking and taking off your bra with the same expertise from the night before. He focuses on your breasts, sucking each one of them with intense hunger before shifting on his knees, leaving your breasts and whole body burning for his touch.

He moves towards the nightstand and opens the drawer to get a condom. The position gives you a prime view of his fully erected cock. The little dark path turning into the well-trimmed little hairs right above it shows you how careful he is with himself and the thought of your tongue running down on it pops into your mind and sparks the electricity running down your inside. On its own will, your hand snakes down your stomach till your clothed mound.   

A particularly loud sigh of you is what catches Bucky’s attention as he rips the package with his teeth. His eyes drop to where your hand rubs you covered pussy and his cock twitches at the vision.

“Shit… yeah, touch yourself….” He breathes, as he rolls off the latex around his cock.

You promptly slide your fingers under your underwear and find out how wet you are. You draw gentle circles on your clit, never taking your eyes off his burly and beautiful figure, the tightness in your core is a crescendo as you catch every little detail of his perfect body and his hooded eyes on you.

Still kneeling on the mattress, he positions himself in front of your opened legs, but just stays there, hypnotized by the spot where you touch yourself, placing his hands on your knees and spreading your legs wider for him, his pupils growing darker and darker with lust.

You sigh and moan at the pleasure brought by your fingers, but the exposed situation you are in and the sight of him staring down so hungrily at your pussy prompts the tight coils flaming inside you. Just a couple of days and you’re finding out a few things you had no idea about yourself. One of them is that you actually love that kind of filthy exposition. It feels wrong and intimate and fucking sexy.  

He grips his cock, giving it a few slow strokes and it’s all a sweet torture that you can’t take anymore.

“Bucky…Please, fuck me.” Your voice comes out laced in a mix of plea and guttural groan you didn’t know you had in you.

Dark eyes flick to yours. “Oh, yeah? Do you want me to fuck you?” he teases, showing no mercy to your desperation.

“Hard…” you correct him, gritting your teeth, “I want you to fuck me hard.”

His eyes widen and his chest moves up when he sucks in a breath. You’re really that eager that you can’t control your words anymore, but you love the effect it has on him. He pulls your fingers from under the lace of your underwear and leans down to bring them to his mouth. Your lips part at the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen, his eyes fluttering shut as he moans sucking the two fingers clean. Your taste seems to stir something in him and the world around you spins when big strong hands turn you over roughly.

“On your fours,” he growls. The grasp of his hands on your ass tugs at your core.

You promptly comply, getting yourself in the position he wants you in as he keeps himself behind you. You yelp when he swiftly pulls your underwear down your knees, the lace stretching around them as he spreads your legs. Looking from over your shoulder you watch him cursing under his breath and gripping the base of his impossibly hard cock and guiding it to your slit, coating his hardness with your arousal.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as the hardness brushes against your clit.

“In a second…” He smirks when his gaze crosses yours.  He leans over and pushes your back down, positioning your ass in the air as you lay your head on his pillow. Bucky grabs your hand and guides it to your pussy.

He doesn’t need to say what he wants you to do as your fingers quickly start working on your clit and he aligns himself with your entrance. He pushes the tip in and it knocks the air out of your lungs as you brace yourself on his pillows with your unoccupied hand, speeding up the finger on your clit.  Bucky groans as he pushes himself in, inch by inch. You’re soaking wet and he doesn’t find much resistance, but it’s been a year for you, so you’re very aware of the stretch on his way in.

“Shit,” you wheeze, loving how full you feel when he’s all his way in, both of his hands grasping your hips tightly.  

“Oh, damn, you feel amazing.” He groans and you clench around him, “Oooo, someone has a praise kink, huh?” A teasing tone in his words.

Do you? You wouldn’t know… all you know is how your whole body and mind respond to having him inside you and how his sultry words make your head dizzy. It’s an aching and floating sensation all at once.  You feel light and heavy and hot and eager for him to move.

Like he’s reading your mind, he starts his pace. His fat cock stretches your walls at every jerk of his hips, increasing in rhythm as it feels easier for him to slide in and out of you. It doesn’t take long before he’s pounding into you, a punishing hold on your hips to keep you steady enough to him. Being the discoverer of your weakness, he punctuates every pound with grunted words of praise, telling how good and wet you feel around his cock. 

He feels good, too. He feels so damn good, his cock brushing and hitting all of the sweetest spots inside you, the sound of skin slapping against skin... Your mind is a fuzz and your head sinks into his pillow, muffling your moans as you just take it, your body moving along with his powerful thrusts. The coil that’s been twisting your lower belly getting tighter and tighter. You want to come on his cock so bad, you press your fingers hard against your sensitive numb.

“Fuck, yeah, work on that clit, I wanna feel you soaking that cock,” Bucky coos, curling an arm around your stomach and, when you notice, you’re on your knees with your back to his chest. Slick skin burns against slick skin as he drags his metal hand over yours on your pussy, guiding your finger in a different direction, making you gasp at the new sensation the subtle shift brings.

“Oh, God.” You can’t and don’t want to hold back anymore as it’s all more than you can handle and the tightness inside your belly washes over your core in sheer ecstasy. Your back arches and your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out a mindblowing orgasm.

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear, slowing down his pace, “That’s it, oh fuck,” he curses at the feel of your cunt gripping his cock.

Your senses aren’t fully functioning yet when he pulls out, throws you back on the mattress and flips you over, swiftly taking off the underwear that was stretched around your knees. A delicious smile curls your lips at all the manhandling because you want more and he’s giving it to you, driving himself inside you again, lifting your legs with his forearms, resting them over his shoulders and not holding back on the almost inhuman speed as he thrusts his hips.

He leans over, captures your lips and you curl your arms around his neck as he fucks you. Hard. Just like you said you wanted him to. You had no idea you were so flexible but what a way to find out, having the hottest guy you’ve ever met balls deep -really deep - into you while his tongue curls around yours.

Parting his lips from yours he releases your legs and they promptly wrap them around his hips as he supports himself with his forearms on each side of you and arches his back and to allow him to drag his lips to ravish your breasts, which he seems pretty fond of already. You push his thrusts impossibly harder and deeper with your feet as he alternates from sucking one and the other, licking and grazing his teeth around your sensitive nipples, your vision blanking at the light pain mixed with the pleasure he’s giving to you with his mouth and his damn perfect cock inside you. He doesn't give you time to cool down from the last orgasm as your mind freezes, focusing solely on the dazzling sensations in your body.  

“So fucking sexy.” The praise reverberates through your skin and it really seems to be a kink of yours as, joined with the expert roll of his hips, he brings you to another orgasm. A smaller one compared to the first, but powerful enough to make your body shake and to coax a series of moans out of you.

Bucky lets your breast go with a popping sound after a particularly hard suck and shifts back to his knees. 

Still in the daze of your second orgasm, a weak sound leaves your lips through panting breathing as your hips leave the mattress when, pulling your legs straighten up together and keeping them securely against his chest with one arm, he pounds into you until an guttural grunt rolls from his lungs and his hips still. He shoves his hips into yours a couple of times, deep and powerful,, spilling his own pleasure into the condom, before letting your legs loose and pulling out. The sensitivity etches a hiss out of you before his body drops next to yours. 

For a while, all that fills the room is the sound of sharp pants from both of you. In the past year, you came to think to think that maybe sex wasn’t that important to you and that maybe it wouldn’t matter if it happened or not…What a damn fool. 

You do like sex. Love it, actually. And it is fucking amazing and important to you, no doubt of that, you realize while your eyes shut and you allow yourself to drown into the delicious ache that covers your muscles while aftershocks of your orgasms cause occasional spasms all over your body.

“Holy shit.” Bucky’s the first one to speak, still fighting to breathe, “That was-”

“Fucking amazing,” you complete, breathing hard, but with a blissful smile on your lips you tilt your head towards him, “Thank you, Bucky. You have no idea how much I needed this.” You add, too deep in your daze to care whether you sound pathetic or not.

He laughs loudly and the corner of his eyes crinkle with it, “My pleasure, beautiful, my pleasure.”

A few more moments pass with both of you laying there and enjoying the after state of what you just did until the mattress moves when he gets up.

You gather your strength to lift your head enough to watch him walking towards the bathroom, rolling off the condom out of his semi hard cock.

As you’re alone in his bed, that’s when an awkward feeling freezes up your chest in contrast to the heat you’ve surrendered to so far. What the hell are you supposed to do now? Do you leave? Do you stay? Can you take a shower? You could definitely use one… You know he said no rules and you agreed, but some guidance would suit you pretty well right now.  

“Hey,” his voice takes you out of your own mind puzzle, “Your turn.” A soft towel is thrown at your face.

You grab it in your hands and look up at him with a glare. He’s laughing as he walks towards you, still butt naked, and your glare quickly dissipates into a playful one. “The bathroom is all yours now. There is liquid soap, shampoo and other stuff there if you need them,” he offers casually, sitting by the corner of the bed, “I’m starving, Chinese sounds good?”

You sit, too, holding the towel in your hand, “Yeah,��� you frown before nodding “Sure, Chinese sounds great, actually.”

“Alrighty, then.” He taps on the mattress and gets up. You gaze falls down to his perky butt cheeks moving as he walks towards the door. He stops by the frame and looks back at you with that mischievous look of his, “Then, I’ll be ready for dessert.” He darts out that sinful tongue of his and runs it over his lips.  

The brief awkward coldness you felt is replaced by a flush of a welcoming heat creeping up your body.

You smirk back at him, “Can’t wait.”  

~~~

[alj4890]

All Through the Night

A Choices: The Royal Romance Dark AU

@gkittylove99​ ​​ @krsnlove​ ​ @kingliam2019​ ​ @texaskitten30​ ​ @yourmajesty09​ ​ @mom2000aggie​ ​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ ​ @twinkleallnight​ ​ @lodberg​ ​ @twinkleallnight​ ​ @amandablink​ ​ @neotericthemis​ ​  @mm2305​ ​ @sfb123​ ​ @iufilms​​​ ​ ​ @tessa-liam​ @busywoman​​

Masterlist

Catch up here with Prologue and Part 1

Part 2

Fydelia...

"Madeleine dear, have you seen the lost book of Aurelia?" Regina called out when she noticed the countess passing by. "There were some notes in there that I think can be useful for Maxwell."

"No mam." Madeleine stepped into their library.

The walls were covered with a variety of the history of the five kingdoms and the mysterious sixth. Madeleine had spent years studying every single myth in the hopes of finding hints of cures and such for the ailments of her people. Her usually sharp gaze softened at the faded leather spines. They had been her source of comfort long before Regina arrived.

When her parents were alive they rarely spared their daughter a single glance. As long as she was quiet, well behaved, and properly attired; they expected little else from her. She had been their disappointment. Her father had hoped for a son while her mother hoped to never have a child.

She did not feel grief when they died. In fact, she had rarely felt any emotion until Regina took over her care. Through her cousin's encouragement and treating her with kindness, Madeleine began to understand happiness and contentment.

She also began to long for love.

The stories she read about the great love Queen Kenna shared with Dominic had made her begin to daydream about her finding someone of her own. She rather liked the idea that the creatures of the Dark Kingdom fell in love instantly. It certainly took all the guess work out of he loves me, he loves me not.

Though Regina was a kind and nurturing soul, Madeleine wanted something more.

And she had found it one afternoon with the banished prince of the Dark Kingdom.

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

A year ago, the capital of Cordonia...

Madeleine ran down the sidewalk as a torrential downpour began. Being lost in thought, she had wandered away from the market place without paying attention. Townhomes with small parks and cottages with flower gardens dotted the quiet neighborhood.

"Oh!" Madeleine slid down, landing not only upon her left ankle, but also in a puddle.

She closed her eyes at the painful throbbing. Tears began to intermingled with the rain falling upon her face. She tried to standup but ended right back in the puddle.

For the life of her, she couldn't think of a single spell that she could use to help herself. It was part curse and actually a blessing to others that a witch could rarely use magic to improve their own circumstances. Other than being able to take potions to improve their physical health, most spells could only be used for someone else.

If she had asked Regina to come with her for a visit to the capital, then she could have healed Madeleine easily. She probably knew a spell offhand to immediately dry her clothes. But then again, Regina was the most powerful out of their coven.

She attempted to stand once more, only for a cry of frustration mixed with agony to slip out.

She could hear footsteps rushing towards her from behind.

She turned her head and saw a man. Her lips parted at how handsome he was. His drenched clothing revealed what was a definite muscular body. His blonde hair had darkened from the rain. But his eyes...they were the most intense blue she had ever seen.

"Are you badly hurt?" He asked.

She nodded. "It's my ankle. Either a bolt of lightening struck when I fell or I definitely heard a definite pop."

Without another word, he scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather.

He kicked open the wrought iron gate and ran with her into his townhome.

"There's a light switch behind you." He waited for her to find it then continued on into his living room. "Here." He set her down on the couch. I'll try to find you something dry to put on and then we'll have a look at that ankle."

Her lips parted then closed as he dashed upstairs. She took advantage of her solitude to study what was clearly the home of a bachelor. Her eyes touched on the masculine décor of oversized leather furniture and no pictures on the walls. There no trinkets of any sort nor any type of color to add to the brandy colored leather and beige walls.

She turned her attention back to her ankle and winced when she tried to rotate her foot.

"That will teach you not to do that again."

Madeleine jumped at the sound of his voice tinged with amusement.

He handed her a towel then knelt beside her. Using another towel, he dried her foot and leg after removing her shoe.

"Thank you, um..." She bit down on her bottom lip when his fingers gently pressed around the swollen area.

"Leo." He looked up at her. "And who might you be?"

"Madeleine." She sucked in a painful gasp when he lifted her foot.

"Madeleine," he shook his head, "I believe it is just a bad sprain."

She slumped back in relief at that news. "I think so too."

He took off his shirt off and pulled a dry one on.

Her parted lips at the sight brought a grin to his face.

"If we're going to get you an x-ray just to make sure nothing is broken, then you'll have to stay in your dress." His eyes roamed over her petite figure. "I don't have anything that will work for you out in public."

"Yes, of course." She lowered her eyes. "Thank you for your assistance. I'm certain I would still be sitting in the puddle if you hadn't come by."

"I saw you slip down from my bedroom window." He scooped her up once more and carried her out to his garage. "Don't worry Lady Madeleine, we'll have you fixed up in no time."

Her head jerked up. "How do you know I'm a noble?"

He paused then shrugged. "With your beauty and the way you speak, it seemed likely that you were one." He set her in the passenger seat of his car. "Then again," he winked at her, "perhaps I was hoping to be your knight in shining armor."

Her pale skin flared with color from his flirting.

Leo chuckled at the sight then patted her hand.

After taking her to a nearby emergency care clinic, he then drove her back to her hotel.

He carried her and her crutches to her room despite her arguments that she could manage now that she had something to lean on.

"You shouldn't trouble yourself, Mr.--"

"Leo." He insisted. "And it is no trouble at all, I assure you." He set her down on a chair. "So, what brings you to the capital?"

"Nothing in particular." She lowered her eyes. "I had a few council meetings to attend and then I decided to stay over for a few days."

Leo nodded. "Wanted to get away?"

"Yes." Madeleine twisted the hem of her skirt. "I shouldn't feel this way. My life is filled with responsibilities that I actually enjoy handling." She lowered her eyes. "But sometimes..."

"It isn't enough." He smiled at her. "I've been there."

"You have?"

"Of course." He stretched his legs out and took a deep breath. "Though, I think the worst thing that can happen to someone is to have those very responsibilities that they thrive on taken away."

He bent down when he saw her struggle to prop her foot up on a small table. Before she could utter the words that he needn't feel like he had to keep helping her, he had slid it over closer.

"Thank you." She smiled shyly at him. "If you don't mind my prying, what responsibilities do you have?"

His easy smile dimmed. "Ah, none."

Her eyes widened. "But you seem to understand --"

"Like I said," he got up and went to stand at her window. "Nothing is worse than being denied what you are made for."

"What were you made for?" She prodded.

He glanced at her from over his shoulder with a smirk. "Me? To be king."

Her eyes widened with realization. The infamous handsome looks. The chivalry. The recognition of her nobility.

"You're the Dark King's son." She whispered in disbelief.

He turned to fully face her. "And you're The Guardian's ward, the very one she gave up being queen for."

Madeleine swallowed nervously. "I--I'm sorry you lost your kingdom." She gripped her hands together in her lap. "I heard about your father naming Liam as heir."

A brief flash of anger appeared in his blue eyes. "Yes, it seems that my embarrassment of not being a vampire extends to all areas of Cordonia."

"No!" She lifted her hand toward him as if to try and comfort him. "It isn't anything you could control." Her brow furrowed. "I'm certain you would have been an excellent king."

He returned to his chair. "Do you?"

She nodded. "I've always had a gift of, well...of sensing a person's true nature."

"Sounds impressive." Leo reached for her hand. "And what do you sense with me?"

Madeleine bit down on her bottom lip. "I can't quite find the words, but I sense great things in your future." A blush formed on her cheeks as she locked eyes with him. "And that I am somehow tied to your destiny."

He lifted her hand to his lips. "I think you're right."

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

It had to have been fate for their paths to cross. The young man had been wandering Europe in search for a place he could belong.

"Once I saw you," Leo told her late one night, "I knew I had finally found the right place."

She had lost her heart to him. His stories of not being loved by his father matched her own, especially in being considered a great disappointment. She had not been born a boy and he had not been born a vampire.

There was little either could do about it.

Leo admitted that he had gone in search of a vampire in Sweden to try and turn him. Something though went wrong when he was given the Vampire's kiss. He did not change. He had remained in his mortal form even after completing the procedure by drinking from the Chalice.

There was no increase of strength. There was no vulnerability to the sun. There was nothing new or different about him.

Only further frustration and heartache.

Madeleine kept their encounters to herself. It wasn't that she didn't trust Regina. She simply didn't trust what she might say to Constantine.

The King continued to invite Regina to visit. He understood her reasons for refusing his marriage proposal but he refused to never see her again. Since she was in love with him too, she went each time he called for her.

Madeleine didn't approve of their relationship, yet she also kept this thought to herself. She had seen as a child the effect speaking one's mind had on others and she never wanted anyone to know her plans or opinions.

But then she began to sneak away to see Leo.

He had been the first person she had actually opened up to. His charm and confidence seemed to spill over and infect her with an openness she never knew she possessed.

Leo was interested in everything about her, especially her knowledge of spells and potions. For nearly a year, he marveled at her intelligence and encouraged her to dig further to find ways to push magic to its very limit.

Then one night, he shared a dream he had recently had.

"You and I were the King and Queen of the Dark Kingdom." His blue eyes flashed with emotion as he gazed off into the distance. "The people were overjoyed to have the true heir back within the fold."

"We were married?" She asked.

"We were." He squeezed her tight, drawing a startled gasp from her lips. "Everything was how it was meant to be for me. I had claimed the black crown for my own."

"What about your father and Liam?"

He turned toward her. Images from his dream of their ashes floating about his feet brought a slight smile to his lips.

"They weren't there."

"Did you feel in the dream that they approved?"

"Of course." He replied. "I have no doubt they finally saw my true strength."

"You would be an excellent ruler, my love." She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "No one has as big a heart like you."

With her head pressed to his chest, he softly agreed. "Yes, I believe I would be just the ruler this country needs."

As the months passed, he fed her little by little tidbits of stories he claimed he had heard. The creatures of the Dark Kingdom were miserable. They were being ill treated by their once beloved monarch.

"I can't stand the thought of any of them suffering." He paced back and forth before her.

"Of course you can't." She replied. "I wish there was something we could do."

His steps faltered. Turning toward her, his sharp eyes filled with tears.

"Do you truly wish you could help them, Maddie?"

"I do." She reached for his hands. "It seems so wrong to be given these magical powers and not use them in some way to help your people."

He smiled warmly at her. She had stopped referring to the people of the Dark Kingdom as monsters. It had taken a long time to get her to do so, but he knew it would all be well worth it in the end.

Leo sat down before her. "If anyone can find a way for us to take our rightful place, it is you," he pressed a kiss to her hands, "my love."

Madeleine blushed at his faith in her. She loved that he saw her as no one else did. How could she not spend every single spare moment she had in pursuit of a way for him?

"I'll try, darling." She vowed. "I'll do everything within my power to return what is rightfully yours."

He captured her lips in a ravenous kiss.

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

Now...

"I received your message." Leo climbed the trellis to Madeleine's balcony. "Did you find something?"

"I think I have." She showed him the lost book of Aurelia. "It is taking me a while to decipher, but I believe that what you need will be in here."

He stared at the book that might possibly hold his future.

"For instance," she opened it to the third chapter, "a witch held a vampire hostage to discover where their super strength and mind powers originate from."

His eyes narrowed on the crude symbols meant to be letters of the ancient Aurelian language.

"And you believe you will find a way to destroy Father's powers?" He asked.

"No." She gently placed her arm around his waist. "I believe I will find a way to give you those same powers without the vampiric nature."

His eyes widened. "Are you serious?"

"I am." She smiled up at him. "What will your first act as king be?"

He returned her smile. "After naming you queen, it will be to heal our fractured kingdom once and for all."

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

That same evening, near a bustling market place in the capital...

"Lady Hana?"

Hana spun around and smiled. "Lord Beaumont?"

"Maxwell, please." He grinned at her. "It's nice to meet you."

She shook his hand then gestured to the lady beside her. "This my best friend and business partner, Riley Brooks."

"Hi." Riley shook his hand. "Hana said that you would be our tour guide."

"Well," he slipped his hands in his pockets while summoning his charming façade, "I don't like to brag but I do know all the best places to see in Cordonia."

"Great!" Hana relaxed some. "We have quite the list prepared of what we want to see most."

"Oh?" His eyes widened when she handed him a notebook. "Wow. You, uh, you weren't kidding."

"We're vloggers." Riley explained. "Our subscribers depend on us to be thorough with the places we travel to."

"Then you've got the right kind of tour guide." He hesitated when he came to Riley's section. "Interested in the supernatural?"

"Yep." Riley laughed. "You wouldn't think it of us," she nudged a giggle out of Hana, "but we have a lot of fun exploring the creepy."

"Not that we have ever come across a ghost or creature of the night." Hana added. "But we refuse to give up."

"I see." Maxwell mumbled. He looked up at them with a grin. "I'm a fraidy cat myself."

"That's okay." Riley shrugged. "It won't be the first time Hana and I have to venture into the unknown alone."

"She means supposed haunted houses and woods." Hana added with a chuckle.

"But that's not all I want to see." Riley pointed at another section of her list. "Night clubs and historical spots are another part I want to spend time on."

Maxwell shut the binder. "How about for your first venture into Cordonia's nightlife we go dancing?" He flashed another dimpled grin. "No need to spook you on the first night here."

"Sounds good to me." Riley replied when Hana tilted her head in agreement. "Lead the way."

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

"Why did we come here of all places?" Drake grumbled.

"I sent Leo a message to meet us here for a drink." Liam sat down at one of the bar's balcony chairs. "He hasn't replied but I am still hopeful he will show up."

He had always enjoyed this particular bar simply for its view. The bustling marketplace of Cordonia's capital was the perfect place to people watch.

It was one of his favorite past times and he usually came by himself. Tonight though, he had dragged Drake and Sherry along while forcing Rashad to promise to meet up with them once he concluded a business dinner.

"Here we go." Sherry set some glasses down. "One whiskey for Mr. Grumpypants."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, I meant Sir Grumpypants." She teased. "One scotch for Liam." She sat down between them, "...and one--" her eyes began to glow as she zeroed in on an all too familiar figure down in the crowd.

"Sherry?" Drake poked her when she stilled.

"What is it?" Liam became alarmed by her fury forming.

Her eyes narrowed to mere slits. "He wouldn't dare!"

Sparks shot off from her hands as she shoved her chair back.

"Sherry!" Liam grasped her arm to try to calm her down before her emotions gave away what she was. He believed though that he should be able to alter the few patron’s memory here yet he hoped it wouldn't come to that."

"Who are you--" Drake's jaw spasmed as he tried to remain under control. He finally saw what she had seen. "It's that damn Beaumont!"

Liam turned to scan the crowd. He noticed the hunter walking with a lady on each arm. His brow furrowed at the strange sight. He knew Sherry had secured for the most part a future with him, and yet he was out with two--

Liam sucked in a strangled breath. The lady on his left had lifted her face to look at the upper level bars and restaurants. Her deep brown eyes met his and she smiled before continuing on her study of her surroundings.

Sherry jerked her arm out of his grasp. "I'm going to burn off some pieces of his body for this!"

Drake didn't bother to help stop her, hoping she would indeed hurt the man.

Liam shook himself out of the haze seeing the strange woman had caused. "Wait!" He took off after his relative. "Sherry!"

Drake heaved a groan, downed his drink, and begrudgingly followed in their wake.

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

"...and if you are looking for the latest fashions, Hana, this store has a direct from Paris line--"

Maxwell took a step back when Sherry appeared before them.

Hana and Riley looked first at the furious woman then at his shocked face in curiosity.

"What do you think you're doing?" Sherry hissed.

Maxwell swallowed uneasily. "Will, uh, will you ladies excuse me a moment?"

"Sure." Riley replied as he grasped the mystery woman's hand.

He released it with a yelp as if touching her had hurt.

"Is something wrong?" Hana asked.

Maxwell shook his scalded hand. "No."

"That's what you deserve." Sherry muttered for his ears only. "How could you--

"Ladies, allow me to introduce Lady Sherry Alcantar." Maxwell bit out. His blue eyes seemed to spark with a fire of his own as he gazed upon the woman. "My love, this is Lady Hana Lee and Ms. Riley Brooks of New York. Lady Hana's mother is an old friend of my family who asked me to show them around."

Sherry's eyes narrowed somewhat. She was slightly mollified in hearing him call her his love, but that still gave him no right to escort two disgustingly beautiful women around Cordonia at night.

"It's nice to meet you." Riley held her hand out. "Maxwell told us all about you on the way here. I'm so glad we have a face to put to the name he says in every other sentence."

Sherry took a deep breath to cool her fiery temper. She shook her hand with a sincere smile. "It's nice to meet you both."

Hana smiled warmly at her while describing their work. "Lady Sherry, perhaps we could question you about some of the places we hope to capture on film.

The two friends shared a significant glance when Maxwell and Sherry merely stared at one another.

"If you don't mind, I would love to go in there and look around." Hana gestured toward the shop. "I can already see some dresses that I think would be perfect for our videos."

"We'll be back in a few." Riley added, winking at Sherry on her way inside. “I’m sure Maxwell would prefer staying out here with you than be stuck shopping with us.”

Sherry took a deep breath once they were gone. "Why are you really out with them?"

"I received a call the other night from Hana's mother." He explained. "She heard about Liam's search for a bride."

"Her mother knows about the Dark Kingdom?" Sherry couldn't hide her surprise. It was rare to find anyone today who actually believed that the stories were true.

"Yes, she is from one of Cordonia's minor houses." Maxwell sighed. "She doesn't want her daughter to be the next Dark Queen."

Sherry tried to control her temper. Nothing sparked it like someone denying the sweetest, most gentle man she knew a chance at happiness. She clinched her fists when she felt the heat move over her body.

"Sherry?" Maxwell took a cautious step forward. "You're overheating." He tried to take her in his arms, wincing at how hot she felt.

Her eyes flashed as she glared at him. "I know."

He let her go. "I'm sorry, honey."

The unexpected apology and endearment was what instantly cooled her. "You're what?"

"I know how important Liam is to you." He added, running his hands down his face. "But, I doubt this will be then only lady I'm tasked with protecting from him."

"Liam deserves a chance at finding his mate as much as anyone else. Maybe even more so." Sherry argued. She raised her eyes to his. "If you would spend time with him, then you would see what kind of man he is." She looked back into the shop at the two new ladies. "Maybe then you wouldn't take on jobs like this."

Maxwell hated seeing her so down and knowing he was partly responsible. He reached out and took her in his arms, cuddling her close. He dropped a kiss on top of her head.

“I know you want me to meet him. I’ll try to do so one day.” He tried to fight how wrong that felt saying aloud. “But for the moment, I can’t take a chance on Liam meeting Hana.”

“Why did you accept this?” She asked. “You've never taken on bodyguard duty before.”

"Hana's family offered incentives that I needed to help with Bertrand's healing." He rested his cheek against her head when he felt her arms wrap around him. "I didn't think about how it would affect Liam or you. I just knew I couldn't pass up this opportunity for my brother.”

Sherry lifted her head and gently kissed him. "I understand." A rueful smile formed on her lips. "And I apologize for blowing up at you earlier. When I saw you with two highly attractive women and clearly having the time of your life, something in me just snapped."

"You know, you ruined me for anyone else." His dimpled grin appeared. "I could be out with a dozen so called gorgeous women and all I would notice is that they aren't you."

She beamed at him. "Really?"

"Really."

When silence fell between them again, Maxwell exaggerated clearing his throat. He cocked an eyebrow when Sherry looked up at him.

"You ruined me too." She admitted.

"I better have." He grinned once more when he heard her laugh. "Just so there is no misunderstanding, I have to spend the next few weeks with Hana and Riley." He nudged Sherry's chin up. "I want you to come with us as much as you would like."

"You do?"

He nodded.

"I suppose I could find the time." She teased. With a sigh she looked up at the bar. "I should probably head back up there."

"Where?"

"I was up there having a drink with Liam and Drake." She pointed toward the empty balcony. "I wonder where they went."

"Liam's here?!" Maxwell let her go and rushed over to the shop window. He breathed a touch easier when he saw Hana critically studying a dress Riley had tried on.

He then scanned the crowd. His hand immediately went to his side, causing him to curse aloud when he remembered he had not brought his sword. He had left it behind to keep the illusion of a fun, party lord intact.

He really needed to start carrying a hidden dagger like Olivia kept insisting.

Sherry folded her arms while watching him revert into hunter mode. "Max? You know Liam would never harm them."

He narrowed his eyes as he searched for the Dark Prince and his right hand man.

He glanced at the lady beside him when he heard her deep sigh.

"Let me see where he disappeared to and I'll try and get him out of here."

"What was he doing down here anyway?" He asked.

"Oh." Sherry bit down on her bottom lip. "He recently found out that Leo is back in Cordonia and invited him to meet us for a drink."

"Leo's here too?!" Maxwell briefly closed his eyes. "I've got both of Constantine's sons converging on the very spot where I bring the woman I'm supposed to protect from that family."

Sherry rolled her eyes. "Stop panicking. I don't think Leo will show."

Maxwell noticed the bitterness in her tone. "He’s still not speaking to any of you?"

"Nope." Sherry wrapped her arms around his waist when he placed his arm back around her shoulders to try and comfort her. "No one in our kingdom has heard a word from him since Liam was named heir."

Maxwell pressed a kiss to the side of her head. "I'm sorry--"

She jumped when her phone vibrated. 

"What's wrong?" Maxwell asked when her brow furrowed.

"Liam has gone to the palace. He said he needs to talk to Olivia." She sighed. "I guess Leo really is going to ignore us." She looked up at Maxwell. "You can rest easy in your job this evening, Lord Beaumont."

He hugged her close against his side. "You want to come with us? Riley wants to check out the nightlife here and I offered to take them to one of the clubs."

"A night club, huh?" She laughed. "It might actually seem like a date if I did come along."

Her heart melted at how bashful he suddenly seemed over the reminder that they had yet to have an actual date.

"I guess I have dropped the ball on that."

"It's hard to find the time when you're guarding the border nearly every night." She reminded him.

"We'll have our date one day." He promised.

"I'm fine with our nights at the border."

"You deserve better." Maxwell kissed her once more. "I'll make it up to you."

Sherry's lips parted to reassure him, only to pause when Riley and Hana came out of the store.

"Ready?" He asked them, summoning his fun loving persona once more.

"Please get us out of here." Riley pleaded playfully. "I think I actually heard my bank account cry after buying these." She held up the garment bags.

Hana laughed while keeping her own purchases off the ground. "Perhaps we should call it a night since we ended up buying so much. Is there any chance you can show us more tomorrow?"

Sherry could feel the tension in his body ease completely at the notion of putting these two safely away from the night.

"Sure." He looked down at the lady in his arms. "Sherry and I were just deciding on the places to show you these next few weeks."

"That's wonderful!" Hana beamed at the new lady. "We are grateful for all the help we can get."

While Riley and Hana began to eagerly question Sherry on her favorite restaurants and things to do, Maxwell guided them out of the market place, all while keeping a lookout for any sign of Liam.

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

"Why are we going to see her again?" Drake grumbled. "Isn't it bad enough we had to see a Beaumont tonight? Now you want to add a Nevarkis to the evening's entertainment."

Liam ignored him as his jumbled thoughts focused in on one fact: he had actually seen the woman he knew to be his mate.

When he chased after Sherry, he had decided to hang back in the shadows. Knowing that the hunter his relative had lost her heart to would not be comfortable with his presence, he decided to remain far enough that he could intercede if Sherry's temper caused any problems.

Plus he hoped to hear more about the woman Maxwell was escorting.

Ms. Riley Brooks of New York. 

He not only had overheard her name but also where she was from. He was able to see her more clearly in the lights from the nearby shops. Her beauty and the sound of her voice stirred something he had never felt when looking upon any other person.

She had to be the one. There was no other explanation to his reaction to just the sight of her.

Then he heard the reason Maxwell was with them.

The Dark Prince could not have cared less about the lady named Hana. But his job to protect her was going to make Liam's courtship of Riley difficult. He knew he would need some help if he was to get her away from her friend and Maxwell.

He couldn't ask Sherry to manipulate Maxwell into time alone with Riley. It didn't seem right to use the love between them in such a manner.

While frustration grew, he overheard the fact that Hana's mother was a Cordonian noble.

And he finally knew who could help him.

"Wait here." Liam ordered when they reached the palace gates. "I want Olivia in a good mood when I ask for her help. Seeing you, sadly, will not accomplish that."

"You're asking for her help?”  Drake asked. “In what?"

"I'll tell you everything once the plan is in motion." He promised.

"But--" Drake rolled his eyes when Liam vanished. Within a second, he saw him climbing into the queen's window of her study.

"Good luck." He mumbled as he settled in for a long wait.

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

"Hold on." Olivia raised her hands. "You want me to invite you and these Americans to my masquerade ball?" Her eyes widened. "Are you insane?!" She got up from her desk and began to pace. "Liam, my guards are trained to find and destroy any vampire who dares to enter the palace during such events!"

"I won't touch a single drop of blood that night and my manners will fit right in with the rest of the nobility." He explained. "Plus with wearing a mask, no one will recognize me."

"Why here?" Olivia asked. "Can't you do whatever you vampires do when you find your mate without involving me or my home?"

Liam leaned against the edge of her desk. "Because of Maxwell and Sherry."

"Maxwell and Sherry? What does my most trusted monster hunter and one of your dragons have to do with this?"

Liam's brow furrowed. "Hasn't he told you that he is Sherry's recognized mate?"

"Maxwell is a dragon's mate? Maxwell Beaumont?!" Oliva sat down in a chair completely stunned by this news.

"I can't believe he didn't tell you." Liam hoped he hadn't ruined anything by revealing this.

"Maxwell owes me nothing, especially when it concerns his private life." Olivia quickly explained. "If anything, it is me and Cordonia that owe him for all his years of service." A wiry smile flirted about her lips at the irony of it all. "A renowned monster hunter and a monster in love and destined for one another. Poor Maxwell. That had to be a shock."

"You know, you really are a nice person." Liam grinned and sat across from her. "That's why I knew as a little boy that we were destined to be friends."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Back to your request. Why will my ball not only help you but also keep Sherry and Maxwell out of it?"

"Because Maxwell will be forced to come along once you invite Lady Hana and Riley. And if I'm here--"

"Yes, but my head of security knows your name and what you are." Olivia stressed again. "I can't have him see your name on the guest list and--"

"But I will simply be company with the Duke of Domvallier." Liam explained. "Rashad's duchy is technically Cordonian, as you well know. Since only a rare handful know that Rashad and Sherry are dragons, I assumed your head of security would think it was a myth too."

Olivia nodded. "That's true. Bastien believes that the only creatures of the Dark Kingdom are vampires."

Liam's smile grew. "I can be a business associate of Rashad's. While Maxwell is keeping an eye on Hana and distracted with Sherry, I can then meet Riley under easier circumstances."

Seeing his excitement, she knew she couldn't refuse him.

"You're the only one who can do this for me." Liam added. "Plus, you're one of the few I can trust with this."

"Geez. Why not whip out those mind powers of yours while you're at it?" She grumbled.

Shaking her head over how easily she was ready to help him, she couldn't help but return his smile. "Fine. I'll send invitations to Rashad for the three of you and for Lady Hana and company."

Liam scooped her up out of her chair before she could blink and hugged her tight.

"Thank you!" He bowed and kissed her hand. "I knew I could count on you."

"Uh huh." She waved towards her window. "Now get out of here before I change my mind."

He winked at her and did as she said. "I'll see you at the Masquerade Ball, your majesty."

She walked over to the window and watched him disappear through the gate. Her smile dimmed as she thought of the report she had been reviewing when he appeared in her private study.

Olivia wondered if she should have told Liam about his brother's secret meetings with the Countess of Fydelia. There could only be one reason he had recently become so close to the witch. Leo must be searching for a way to gain the power he had been denied since birth.

Deciding to keep a close eye on the banished prince, she planned on telling Liam once she had more information. He was so happy with finding his mate that she couldn't stand the thought of taking that away from him with this news.

"Damn it." Olivia muttered. "Liam really is my best friend."

Somehow a Nevarkis had developed a love for a Rhys.

*Character moodboard for Madeleine and Leo*

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

frENEMIES, pt.2 {Quarterback AU}

Summary: While her first prank may have backfired, Y/N isn’t ready to let Grayson off the hook just yet and her next plan may include collateral damage.

Warnings: naked Grayson, swearing, sexual innuendos

Part one   

She could hear him scream her name before running off, tossing his clothes in her car with a satisfied clap of her hands. To say she's been craving revenge would be an understatement, and giving him a taste of what she truly wishes to do has certainly been sweet.

That is until she hears a man clear his throat behind her in the halls, too aware of his presence even before she turns around. It’s impossible to ignore a man like Grayson who has an aura around him...sort of distinctive presence that overshadows everything and everyone.

But turning around was a mistake because Grayson had decided to wrap the mascot's scarf around his privates and offered a glowing view of his impeccable abs and damn it, she couldn't lie and say he isn't quite literally the most handsome man she's ever had the pleasure of seeing. She may consider herself a stone cold bitch, but she was definitely not a dead bitch and those abs would make anyone want to lick them.

"Missing something, quarterback?" Raising her eyebrow victoriously, her smirk had widened into a smile he found wicked, but all too beautiful. He could sense her stare and the sheer power of will it takes for her not to make it too obvious and while he'd usually make a move, the giggles around him are an undeniable reminder that it's neither the time nor place and that she caused his presumed walk of shame, except he had nothing to be ashamed of.

Looking around the gawking crowd with a cocky smirk, Grayson shrugs and leans in, only then noticing the light pink tinted cheeks of hers and the extremely intoxicating scent radiating off her. It felt like a dash of spring by the seashore and he nearly made a fool of himself as a desire to hold her almost overpowered him. 

Why is he suddenly attracted to Satan? Sure, he always thought she was beautiful and he always was a sucker for curves but her personality didn’t change over night, and Grayson may be a player but he certainly doesn’t sleep with girls that may kill him after an orgasm - black widows. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it nor understand anything at the moment, but he knew he wanted to see those pink cheeks redden.

"Just giving the people what they want."

Rolling her eyes at him, she takes a step back and shakes it off - the unquestionable need to have her hands on those abs, purely for scientific purposes, of course. 

Leaning into her further, he chuckles when her lips press together nervously and all too happy with himself, he states:"If you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask."

Appalled, perhaps even horrified, she groans before leaning into him, close enough to use his shoulder as leverage to lift herself on her tiptoes up to his ear instead of his lips as he half expected, perhaps even hoped for, whispering.

"Right. Well, if I were you I'd skedaddle before the very bewildered principle gets here and he's about a few steps away."

Eyes wide, Grayson took off but as he passed by her, Y/N made sure to finish the job by pulling off his scarf as swiftly as possible, enjoying the follow up "Y/L/N" scream from a distancing Grayson and his exquisite ass.

Being wicked feels good and she had every intention of reminding Grayson exactly how wicked she can be.

"Did you really have to embarrass him like that?" Amina whisper shouts, receiving a raised eyebrow as a response as Y/N stops walking and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Seriously? You think he was embarrassed when everyone was gawking at his perfectly sculpted body?" Annoyance in her eyes and tone dripping with sarcasm, Y/N was already plotting her next move in this war she was waging with Grayson.

"Besides, you know he had it coming after what he did to me." Stating her reason wasn't enough for Amina, though. After years of tiptoeing around Ethan and the feelings they both had for each other, she had finally decided to give him a chance and if her best friend is hell bent on destroying his twin brother, that would certainly put a strain on her soon to be an official relationship.

"It's been years, Y/N. You need to learn to let things go. If not for you, then for me." Raising her voice ever so slightly, Amina frowns when she sees her best friend's eyes harden and her jaw clench as if she had just been deeply hurt and insulted. 

It wasn’t so long ago he had ruined her chances at dating a really great guy that had a little chat with him and then ghosted her after. It was the first guy she liked that liked her back, a chance for a lot of her firsts to come true, but she found herself at an age where most people would mock her for never even kissing a guy before. Her war with Grayson was started by him freshman year and it continued daily ever since...he started it, but she has every intention on finishing it. As Aristocats have taught her: “Ladies don’t start fights, but they can sure finish them.”

"Years? Amina, he called me a snake and a clumsy nerd and both nicknames have been haunting me since freshman year. He...that's the most insignificant thing he's done to me compared to other...despicable ways he had tormented me. Even before I knew who he was." Swallowing thickly, Y/N drew in a shuddered breath before speaking again.

"If you want to distance yourself from me to stay clean in front of Ethan, do it. But I can't let things go. Not when it’s him. You know that."

And without a word from Amina, not even a sound, Y/N nods, accepting that her best friend chose a side and it isn't hers.

***

A week flew by as Y/N plotted her next move against her worst enemy, aka the quarterback and most self absorbed prick she had ever had the displeasure knowing. 

It's baffling how someone so handsome can be such an asshole...almost tragic.

But it didn't take her long to figure out what he treasures most and what seems to have all the girls swooning - his hair. He’s been growing it for a year and while she couldn’t lie and say he didn’t look damn good with it, she hated every perfect lock of hair on his head. Every single curl, wavy little lock that frames his face and the way he runs his fingers through his hair. That actually made a girl fall of her bike and another to walk into a tree. 

She wondered if putting hair removal cream would be too extreme considering dye could easily be reversed, but then she remembers how he was the reason she didn't have eyebrows in sophomore year and her doubts quickly disappeared.

This time she decided to strike in the afternoon, sneaking into the locker room an hour after practice because Grayson always stays late and is always alone. If it were anyone else she'd have admired their work ethic, but this was Grayson fucking Dolan and she had no intention of admiring him. Ever. The abs have fucked with her brain once but that's solely because she was caught off guard but this time she was prepared for anything.

Hiding behind the lockers as she heard a man enter, she smirked. Everything is going according to plan and soon, she'd be there to hear his screams before running for her life.

The shower starts and the water splashing against the tiles is the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard. Her heart beats wildly in anticipation, her mind racing with all the probable outcomes and her eyes are wide open. Mouth a little dry, she realizes she's nervous too. A small pang of guilt hits, deep inside her chest and she's sweating, the doubts creeping back in.

If she goes through with this, wouldn't that make her just as bad as he is? Would she really be a snake as he referred her as?

Either way, it's too late to do anything about it. Right?

Sighing she slaps a hand over her forehead, wondering why she's feeling guilty when he deserved worse. It's not like he needs his hair to play...well, maybe he needs it to be a player outside the field but it certainly won't affect his game on the field.

Breathing fast, she bites her lower lip because she knows it's a matter of minutes if not seconds when she'll hear his reaction and she's hoping...praying that it gives her some satisfaction, at least.

But then she feels something is off...almost as if someone's watching her...almost as if someone is right next to her - an undeniable presence she’s too familiar with.

"Whatchu doing?"

The sudden voice makes her gasp, falling to her knees as her mind shuts down momentarily, her head whipping back to see what had scared her, though she knew. Deep inside, she knew that voice, that presence, that scent.

"Damn, didn't mean to scare you THAT much, sneaky princess." Folding his arms, Grayson raises an eyebrow as his lips form that killer smirk that makes every woman weak in their knees.

"Wait...are you here to see me naked again? Because I meant what I said, you only need to ask." Crouching down, watching her eyes dart from him to the running shower, Grayson shakes his head before leaning closer, stealing back the attention. If there's anything he likes, it's having all the attention on him. And whether he likes to admit it or not (which he never would say out loud), he loves her attention on him.

Slowly, confidently, he licks his lips and speaks with certainty. "And when you do ask...I will ruin you for other men. Promise."

But as much as his words created chaos inside her head, making it hard to breathe when he winks with that self satisfied smile and offers her a hand to help her stand, Y/N was only thinking one thing - WHO IS IN THE FUCKING SHOWER?!

And as she ignored Grayson's hand and help, standing on her own two feet, a throaty scream quickly followed and she found herself mortified.

"What did you do?" Grayson questions, his voice a bit higher, his eyes on the shower as a very naked man emerges without a single hair on his head and a horrified look on his face only to realize it's Ethan and she fucked with the wrong twin.

"I HAVE NO HAIR!"

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay​​ @beinscorpio​​ @peacedolantwins​​ @dolandolll​​

PART 3

[imjusthereforbatfam]

Never-Ending Encore, ch.2

Chapters: 1 2 3 4

Chapter Summary: Cookies make everything better, right? RIGHT!?

Warning: minor swearing, minor panic/anxiety attack

---

Chapter 2:

“You planning on staying like that all night or…?”

Eden silently cursed herself, the world, and everything in it. Some small part of her still hoped whoever it was wasn’t actually talking to her. Just… somehow magically right next to her without noticing her. And... talking to someone else on her fire escape. Yeah.

Eden quietly huffed at her own idiocy and slowly began to move. She scooted back onto the metal stair, shifting her weight off her aching toes. For a moment she just stayed like that. Praying for… she didn’t know what. Some kind of miracle. Then, with a gulp, she finally inched her head in the direction of the voice. 

A man – a huge man – leaned casually against the metal railing of her fire escape. He wore a full red helmet that obscured his every thought and intention from the world. His arms were crossed as he, apparently, observed her.

"What, nothing to say?" he asked, his voice somehow modulated to sound almost robotic.

Eden just stared at him. The white “eyes” of his helmet were forever etched into an angry sort-of look that made her nervous.

Well... more nervous. She was already struggling with the fact that he had suddenly, magically, appeared on her fire escape on the 9th freaking floor. And with the fact that he was a thick, 6-foot-something mass of muscle who could probably snap her in half if he wanted. And that he had a pair of pistols holstered to his hips. And that this was happening in Gotham City; the place filled with not only violence and corruption on every corner, but actual, real-life, will-kill-you-for-funsies villains.

Needless to say, it was a lot to take in.

“Unless you wanna risk getting shot,” the man said evenly, apparently choosing to ignore her silence, “you should go inside now. Shit’s about to go down out here.” 

“Are you a good guy,” she blurted in a high, fearful pitch, “or a bad guy?”

The man said nothing. After a moment, his helmet shifted very slightly to the side.

A stream of curses ran through Eden’s mind. She was so dumb. Why was she so dumb? Why was she like this? Why couldn’t she just keep her damn mouth shut? She knew, logically, that she’d eventually be fine no matter what – she always got another encore – but that didn’t mean she had to help dig her own grave, damn it!

The man shrugged and, after a moment, said, “Depends on who you ask.”

“I asked you,” she shot back, then blanched at her own brazenness. This was no time to be Louanne Smith’s daughter. “Sorry,” she said dropping her head. “I, uh— I meant… I asked you,” she tried sweetly. “Um, sir.”

A short sound came out of him. It was too distorted to know what it was meant to convey, but Eden desperately hoped it was amusement.

“As long as you’re not working for any drug cartels or mob bosses, you should be fine.”

“Oh, darn!” she said snapping her fingers. “There goes my five-year plan!”

The man didn't say anything. His head shifted back slightly. Eden had no idea if that was a good thing or not.

An actress needs to know how to read their audience, and Eden usually considered herself pretty good at it. But with Mr. Ominous Angry Helmet, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He could be amused; he could think she’s an idiot; he could be thinking about shooting her. She just didn’t know. That only made everything worse.

Anxious, jittery energy shot through her limbs, jerking her into motion. She swung her body away from the unnerving man, picked up the plate at her side, and turned back to him in one quick, unbroken movement. Her blanket fell off her shoulders with the action and the cool night air felt like knives against her hot skin.

“Would you like a cookie, sir?” Her voice was up a few octaves and moving fast. “They’re snickerdoodles. Homemade. My mama’s recipe. Fresh from the oven and still–” she lifted one trembling hand, hovering it over the few remaining cookies “–yep, still pretty warm.” She lifted the plate closer to him. “Do you want some, Mister, uh–” she glanced down at the symbol on his chest “–Red Bat, sir?” 

The man’s silence was deafening.

Eden stared at the cookies, hating her brain, questioning her sanity, and cursing herself internally. She didn’t want to die tonight. More importantly, she didn't want to be shot tonight. Or ever again, really. Being shot hurt. If she were never shot again in her life, it would be too soon. And yet, here she was. Probably about to be shot again because she couldn’t shut her goddamn flap. 

After what felt like an eternity, the man finally asked, “Did you really just offer me cookies... and call me Red Bat?”

“Yes?” she squeaked. Then, unable to stop herself, a slew of words spewed out from her. “I’m really, really sorry if I offended you, sir, but I only just moved to Gotham a little while ago, so I still don’t know who all the important masked people in the city are, and, in my defense, there are a lot of important masked people in this city, and honestly, I still don’t even know all the good guys from the bad guys yet, which is why I was asking you earlier, but I really don’t wanna get shot either way, so if you could maybe just consider sparing me this one time, I swear I’ll figure it all out and just forget this whole thing ever happened and move somewhere far, far away, or I could start a fan club for you or something if you really wanted me to, or maybe even—”

“Whoa, whoa!” Mister Not-Red-Bat said putting up his hands. “Easy there!” He knelt down, making himself far smaller. “I get it. You’re new in town.” His distorted voice wavered, like maybe he was either trying not to laugh or not freak out himself. “Calm down and take a breath before you pass out, alright? It’s no big deal.”

“Oh. Okay. Good. No big deal. Good to know.”

“Breathe,” he reminded her.

“Right. Sorry. Breathing. Important. I should do that." 

The man nodded along, urging Eden to do that. 

It took a few tries, but eventually, she was actually able to take a full, deep breath. The man breathed with her, moving his whole body with the motion to guide her. His movements were so exaggerated Eden couldn't help but feel like she was on a stage with him, performing in front of an invisible crowd. She watched him, following his slow lead as her nerves began to settle. 

Eden turned away, letting out a long, even breath before doing it on her own. 

“Better?” he asked.

“Yeah... Thanks." She looked at him again, wondering why in the world he even bothered to help her in the first place. "Are you... one of Gotham’s vigilante people?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Red Hood.” He reached behind his helmet and lifted a red hood attached to the back of his leather jacket for her to see. “Hood,” he said again. “Not bat.”

She smiled at the action. “Hood, not bat,” she repeated. “Got it. Sorry about that."

“It's fine. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“Sor—"

He lowered his head in her direction. She could almost feel him giving her a "Really?" look. 

"Uh— I mean—” Her cheeks burned against the cool night air. She offered up the plate of cookies again. “Snickerdoodle?”

Red Hood shook and lowered his head as a small noise escaped him. “I’m good.”

Eden's brows lifted up in surprise. She was almost positive he was amused.

“No, really, I insist!" she said quickly. "This is going to be burned in my brain as one of the most embarrassing moments of my life anyway,” she admitted with playful ease, “I’d at least like to know I compensated you for your role in it. Beautiful performance, by the way, Mr. Hood. Very well done. Excellent timing.”

Red Hood leaned forward again, clearly snickering this time.

“And besides,” she continued, excited now, “you’re a vigilante in Gotham City, of all places! That’s a tough gig, Mr. Hood. You deserve to be rewarded for your troubles! And what reward could be better than homemade snickerdoodles by a random civilian? I mean, really now, I ask you.”

He shook his head minutely as she waved a hand around the plate of cookies like a showgirl. She wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded, sounding like he might be fighting back a laugh. He grabbed a small handful of snickerdoodles and tucked them into a coat pocket. “Thanks for the reward, random civilian.”

She smiled up at him. “You’re more than welcome, Mr. Hood.” She took a cookie for herself, pleased to find it tasted better than they had a bit ago.

“You really should get inside now, though,” he said getting serious again. “I doubt your neighbors,” he nodded toward one of the buildings not far from her apartment, “will be as willing to share their goodies with me when I come knocking.”

Eden stopped chewing and stared at the building. Part of her was a little in awe. She knew she was in a not-so-great part of the crime capital of the world, but she hadn’t imagined anything vigilante-worthy was actually happening on her crummy little street.

She looked back at Red Hood a moment, processing the information, then quickly finished her cookie and started tossing her things into her apartment.

“Okay, well, good luck, Mr. Hood!” she chimed climbing through the window. “Have fun, or whatever you’re supposed to tell a vigilante before they go, uh…” She frowned and quirked a quick brow at him. “Vigilanteeing?”

With one foot resting atop the wrought iron railing, Red Hood looked as big and threatening as he had before, but Eden wasn't afraid this time. He was a good guy. Ready to jump off into the night and bust some bad guys. But he didn’t. He just stared at her.

He tilted his head. “Vigilanteeing?” he teased, undeniably amused.

Eden turned away from him, her face heating up. “Whatever you call it! Do good deeds, don’t get shot — all that fun stuff. Have fun vigilante times or whatever.”

Red Hood made another sound – laughing at her – and Eden stared at the floor, hating her big mouth and wishing she could just phase out of existence. When she gathered the courage to look up again, she was surprised to find her fire escape empty.

A bit foolishly, she poked her head back out the window. She looked in the direction of the building Red Hood had indicated, but there was nothing to see. No Red Hood, no thugs, no nothing. Just an unusually quiet night on her even-less-safe-than-she-thought street.

But somewhere in the shadows, a vigilante was about to make things a little better. Eden was glad to know that, and glad to have thanked him for it in her own small way. She knew how hard a life like that could be and had nothing but respect for the people who chose it.

Eden, however, didn’t choose a life like that. She was perfectly happy being a totally random civilian, thank you very much. So she shut and locked her window, put on her headphones, and tried to have as much of a totally random civilian evening as possible.

She cleaned the dishes, studied her script, and went to bed early. Just like any normal person might. She ignored the sound of gunshots that managed to pierce through her music. She ignored the red and blue lights that eventually flashed outside her window. She ignored the voice in her head that told her she should've offered Red Hood her help – which was stupid for many, many reasons – and desperately fought off the thought that kept drilling into her head — that if he died tonight, it would be her fault.

When she got up in the morning, haggard and ill-rested, she went to the window straight away. There was nothing in the light of the day to suggest anything vigilante-worthy had happened on her street in the night. It was as dirty as usual, with the usual suspects mulling around their usual spaces. Everything was in its grubby, crummy place. The only difference was the yellow line of police tape and the few broken windows in the building Red Hood had nodded to.

Eden sighed, wondering about the vigilante and what had happened to him. She started to shut the window again when she noticed a folded scrap of paper sticking out from one of her tiny pots of herbs. She plucked it out and carefully opened it. 

‘Thanks again for the cookies. They were really good. - RH’

Eden smiled and let out a breath, the night's worries instantly lifted from her shoulders. She re-folded the little note and went to find a safe place for it — completely and totally ignoring the bloodstain along the paper's edge. 

Yup. Totally ignoring it.

----

Chapter 3

[spikemuth-post]

My Lost Piers  Fic

I recently dug up the first story I wrote about Piers. I sent it to a friend back when I was still trying to gauge and understand all the characters and thank goodness she kept it

—-

The sound of the T.V. was buried underneath your laughter as you reached over to grab some pizza off the table. You were celebrating your new flat with the only 2 people who were free to help you move in today. Hop was on the floor in front of you, his Cinderace chowing down with him and Marnie was beside him. Her Morpeko was waddling about, playing with the litter of Yampers that your Boltund had. "That is something else." You managed to say, looking away from Marnie. Her smirk didn't go away and she was persistent in wanting to make eye contact with you. You resisted for a bit. " What makes you think that I like your brother?" "That is the most unconvincing denial I have ever heard," Hop snorted as he lowered pizza into his mouth. "You might as well have said 'I don't think Piers is hot! Who said that! Definitely not me!" Hop mocked your voice so convincingly that your Boltund wandered over to see what was going on. You gave the pooch a scratch behind the ears, red in the face at the portrayal. "You like him, don't you-" "No!" Your defense made them both start snickering and Hop looked over by the pizza box. All of your phones were beside one another and so you didn't notice that he grabbed yours and not his. He began to fiddle with it as Marnie laughed at you. "Well, answer my question. Why would you think that?" "Well, to be honest, I didn't." She admitted coyly, "I asked if you liked him because I know for a fact that he thinks you're cute. I was just trying to maybe give you both a little push." "H-He does?" "Yeah, that's good." Hop mumbled to himself as he typed. Neither of you noticed. "Well, would you consider going on a date with him if he asked? Or asking him on a date?" "T-That does sound nice... but what if he doesn't like me like that? Thinking I'm cute and actually liking me are two different things-" "Hey check this out," Hop snickered, holding up your phone so you could see the screen. Marnie wasn't facing it, so she hopped off the couch and leaned over it on your side so you could both get a better look. Your mouth fell open and Marnie read it out loud. " 'Hello there, sexy. Your body is a temple and I want to uncover ALL it's hidden treasures. Maybe meet me at my new flat tonight after dark?'. You didn't have to put both tonight and after dark, Hop. They mean the same thing-" "DO NOT SEND THAT!" You and Hop jumped to your feet and he backed up from you a little bit. As he backed up he squeezed the phone unconsciously, not knowing he was touching the screen. "Relax, Mate. I'd never send it. You're my best friend. Do you really think I would... do...that...oh no." Hop glanced at the message to delete it, horrified to see the word 'sent'. You reached out for your phone and felt a tidal wave of emotions seeing Hop's face. "uh-" "Hop... Tell me why you're looking at it like that." “Uhhhh... Okay... But You can't be mad at me-" "HOP!" "I’ll do damage control," Marnie grumbled, grabbing her phone and going to call Piers. Anger poured out of your mouth and Marnie couldn't help but smile. Upon getting Piers's voicemail her smile dropped. "...I think his phone is off... Good news, I think that means he hasn't seen it." "WE CAN ADDRESS THAT AFTER WE KILL HOP!" "As much as murder would spice up our evening... Our priority should be getting ahold of my brother and letting him know what happened."

—

Obstagoon continues to whine for his trainer's attention, getting a pat on the head every so often. Piers was too focused, staring at the options before him and trying to determine the best move for such an intense and cutthroat strategy game. “...A3-“ “Aw man, you sunk my battleship.” Raihan complained. Burying his face in his hands, he put the peg in his ship. Piers just rolled his eyes. “I wonder what’s taking Leon so long to get here. The movie starts in 20 minutes.” “Yeah, we need to leave soon,” Piers mumbled, taking his phone out to check the time. He didn’t remember the battery died until he looked at it, angrily tossing it back in his pocket. “Text him, see where he is.” “Yeah, give me a minute... G7-“ “Nope-“ “OH COME ON!” As Raihan fumed, Leon entered his apartment, looking oddly determined. The reason being was a call he got from his brother to delete a text from you by any means necessary. His friends didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “Finally! Come on, we have to get going.” “Uh, yeah, sorry I’m late... Hey, Piers, can I borrow your phone?” “It’s dead, Sorry.” Piers just shrugged but Leon seemed nervous, making Raihan offer his phone. Leon took it with a ‘thank you’ not wanting to decline and be suspicious. This was going to be harder than he thought. ----

They settled into their seats, Raihan’s eyes glued to the soda advertisement. The theatre had only 2 or 3 other people in it, all of them sitting rows above the trainers. Leon was focused on Piers’s phone, which was in the rocker’s back pocket. Leon bought a phone charger and a reserve battery, ready to get his plan into action. He sat beside Piers and the theatre darkened. Raihan seemed so invested already but Piers was leaning on his armrest. The bored rocker’s hip was slightly up as he leaned on his left leg. He wasn’t leaning all the way back in his chair either. Leon could see his phone peeking out of his back pocket.  “Ugh, how long are the logos?” Piers complained to Raihan. As he turned to him, Leon began to slowly reach for the phone. The two were having a small conversation so Leon thought he had plenty of time to grab it. Unfortunately, Piers rolled his eyes at what Raihan said and sat back in his chair. He sat on Leon’s open hand and both men just froze for about solid minute as the opening scene of the movie rolled on. Piers opened his mouth but shut it just as fast, unable to articulate his thoughts. “...Uh... Can I have my hand back?” “Why is it on my ass in the first place?” The moment Piers shifted to release him Leon pulled his hand away. While embarrassed, he was still victorious, hiding Piers’s phone from the rocker’s view.  “Everything alright, mate?” “Yeah, yeah... I thought there was gunk on your seat. I was just um picking it off before you sat down.” “Uh huh,” Piers didn’t feel like picking that apart, ready to sleep through this flick. “Well, next time you want to cop a feel, at least give me a warning.” “Sorry, Piers!” Leon grinned. The moment Piers looked away, he plugged the phone in. Any minute now. All it had to do was power on.

--

When the movie picked up, Leon completely forgot about the phone. He was so invested in the story that he didn’t notice it power on. Piers was asleep on his hand. Raihan was on his phone, texting Nessa about how terrible this movie was.  He looked over to Piers, seeing the Rocker drooling slightly. He couldn’t pass this opportunity up, taking a picture of the sleeping Piers and then sending it to him immediately. “He’ll enjoy this pic when he wakes up.” Raihan snickered. Leon heard him but didn’t understand until Piers’s phone began to ring on his lap. The sound of the hard rock ringtone made Piers wake. He turned to Leon, confused to see his phone on his lap. Leon panicked and silenced the phone.  “... Oh, It’s back on.” “Uh, yeah... I charged it for you!”  “Oh that’s nice...” The groggy Piers looked at the screen. He saw a cut off text, a notification about a picture message and a missed call from Marnie. That was the only thing he really cared about, perking up to see the bright red ‘Missed call’. “Hey, I’m going to step out for a bit, I need to call Marnie back.” He reached for his phone and Leon took in a harsh breath. He gripped the phone tight, making Piers raise a brow.  “Uh, it’s not polite to call in the middle of a movie.” “...I know? That’s why I said ‘step out’. Look, I have to call Marnie back. What if she needs me?” “I-I’m sure it’s nothing-” “Leon, this isn’t funny-” “Can you two keep it down?” A woman 2 rows ahead said suddenly, looking back at the men in disgust. “I’m trying to watch the movie-” “Spoiler alert, Rosco dies.” Piers snapped. A couple of people in the theatre groaned. Even Raihan seemed to be incredibly distraught by the news. “Give me the phone.” “No!” “Leon!” “I’m telling the manager.” The woman complained, getting up to leave the theatre. Piers just couldn’t let her leave without one last jab. “Go ahead, sweetheart, I’ve been kicked out of nicer places.” “Yeah, he got thrown out of the Hero’s bath in Circhester for throwing a bath bomb in there,” Raihan commented. That didn’t get the reaction out of Piers that he wanted and he finally started to look into what the hell was going on next to him. “You guys okay?” “Give me my phone!” “uh, um- BATTLE ME FOR IT!” “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” “Alright! Theatre battle!” Raihan seemed pumped at the idea. Even a few of the moviegoers were interested. The Ex Champion and the Ex Dark Gym leader. Even the manager, who just arrived with an angry patron in tow was oddly invested.

---

“Leon hasn’t answered at all!” You panicked. Marnie was of great support and Hop locked himself in your bathroom to protect himself. “I am so nervous. What if he failed? Oh, Piers will never talk to me again!” “I mean... I think the worst-case scenario is that he shows up at your house thinking you’ll sleep with him... Which I also think you might want-” “Marnie!” “I’m still convinced you like him... Maybe we shouldn’t have outsourced the problem to Leon.” Hop opened the bathroom door for a second but when you whipped your head in his direction he closed it again. “I was just going to say that they went to the movies! Maybe we could go and see what’s happening!” “That’s not a bad idea.” Marnie chimed in, “It would be better to explain it in person.”

--

There was a large crowd outside of the theatre when you all arrived. You exchanged a confused glance around before working through the crowd. In the center was Leon and Piers, each down to their last pokemon. Leon was biting his lip, at a type disadvantage. It looked like Piers was going to win this. Raihan seemed amazed, acting as the referee. When you Hop and Marnie showed up, Leon seemed to glow, gesturing to Marnie immediately. “Look, Piers, Marnie is here! Just ask her yourself!” “Marnie?” Piers turned around to look. Marnie gave a shy wave. Next to her, he saw you and he hoped that his heated cheeks weren’t visible. While he was distracted Leon took the phone out, deleting the latest Message Piers had received. He cheered to himself. “What are you doing here?” “Oh, um, nothing.” Marnie had to quickly think of something. Since the message was now deleted, it seemed counterproductive to bring it up. “I... wanted to know if the movie was good.” “Oh, no it’s garbage-” “Here’s your phone!” Leon called back his Rillaboom, handing Piers his phone. The sudden surrender made the crowd upset but Piers honestly was just confused. He had his own pokemon return, eyeing Leon suspiciously. “S-Sorry about that!” “... The fuck is going on?” “Hop! Buddy! Why don’t we go get something to eat? “ Leon suggested, putting his arm around his brother. Everything was moving so fast that Piers had no idea what to say. Raihan huffed but ultimately didn’t care. He strode over to Piers, putting his arm around him and poking at Piers’s phone screen.  “Anyway, I sent you a pic of you asleep,” Raihan teased, “It should be your most recent message.” Hearing that made Leon freeze. Piers checked his messages from Raihan, shaking his head slowly. “Nah, mate, I’ve got nothing from you.” “What! Ugh, I’ll resend it.” “... Oh, Y/n, you texted me. Sorry I missed it.” He opened it before you could say anything and Hop saw that as the perfect opportunity to ‘nope’ out of there. Leon followed fast. Marnie didn’t want any part of this either, looking off to the side. You were speechless as Piers read the text, staring at it for a while. Over his shoulder, Raihan looked it over, his jaw dropping open once he finished. He pursed his lips and walked away, not wanting to get involved either. You tried to turn around and leave but the moment your back was to Piers it was over. He put his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side as you both walked off. He even cleared his throat cutely. “Piers-” “I think you and I need to talk about a couple things, love.”

[cherryeol04]

The Firsts

Summary: No one ever told him that living was going to be so difficult. That there would emotions get couldn’t label and distinguish. He’s just a young boy trying to navigate through life and its unexpected ups and downs.

Genre: Humor, Fluff, smut(?)

Pairings: Oc x Felix, Oc x Changbin, Changbin x Oc x Felix

Warnings: poly relationship, angst in some part, excessive fighting about the MCU.

Parts: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17

A/N: This story has a theme of Firsts. First love, first kiss and many other firsts. Each part can be read on their own and are meant to stand as oneshots. It’s basically a collection of oneshots (little snapshots into my Oc’s life. 😁)

Aiden eyed Changbin hard as the other fiddled with his laptop. The two boys sat in Changbin’s room on a particularly hot summer afternoon. It was the kind of hot that the simple thought of breathing exhausted them, which wouldn’t have been a bad thing had they been at Aiden’s house. His mother always insisted on running the air conditioning during the summertime to keep everyone sane - he sadly couldn’t say the same thing for Changbin’s mom, who insisted they just open the window and let the fresh air in. 

They had toyed with the idea of going somewhere to escape the heat, but anytime either of them thought about walking outside in the sweltering heat they decided against the idea. That’s when Changbin got an oh so great idea, one that Aiden was questioning the sanity of. “How do you even know what sites to go to? Did you like, google it?” He asked, eyes locked on the screen as Changbin pulled up a porn site. Images of naked men and women danced on the screen - most advertisements but the middle portion was dedicated strictly for the videos uploaded to the site. Aiden honestly wasn’t sure if he was turned on or repulsed by some of the lewd positions these men and women were in. 

“Yeah.” Changbin answered, startling Aiden out of his internal debate of if he was going to throw up or not at the site of a woman spread eagle in the thumbnail of a video while Changbin scrolled through. “Haven’t you watched porn before?” 

“I’m a good Christian boy.” Aiden huffed with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t partake in them sins of the flesh.” The forced exhale of laughter from Changbin had Aiden pouting. 

“Right. This coming from the guy who is making it a habit of waking me up in the middle of the night to tell me about his sexual dreams with Felix. Yeah, good Christian boy my ass.” He retorted and sighed. 

“Shut up! Okay listen, I’ve never thought of doing that okay?” Aiden whined, cheeks flushing with embarrassment because really, he felt like he was a weird kid. He was sure there were plenty of young men who spent their time watching porn and getting off. It was natural, or at least he assumed. 

“Wait.” Changbin shifted beside Aiden on his spot on the bed, eyes staring intently at him and Aiden actually shivered under the gaze - eyes adverting away. “So how do you know you’re gay?” He asked. It was a stupid question, but Aiden would be lying if he said he hadn’t questioned himself about that before. He had researched “how do you know if you’re gay” with safe search on. Maybe that’s what has kept him from seeing porn until now. 

“I mean, I like Felix and I have dreams about him. Doesn’t that make me gay?” Aiden asked confused, though he still refused to look at Changbin. 

“Yeah, but have you ever touched a dick before?” Changbin grunted when Aiden smacked his arm, their eyes locking once more as Aiden frowned.  “I’ve never seen porn before, but I know how to  jack off, idiot.” 

“Yeah, but have you touched someone else’s dick before?” The question had Aiden falling silent as he contemplated if it really mattered if he had touched another guy’s dick or not. Weren’t they all the same? Wasn’t it all the same? Was jacking off not considered a sign of knowing if he was gay?

“No?” He hadn’t meant to sound so unsure because the answer was a definitive no, he had touched no other dicks but his own. And yet he couldn’t help but feel shy and embarrassed for having that answer, a similar feeling he got when he was called to answer a question in class and was wrong. “Have you?”

“No. But I’m not the gay one.” Changbin shot back and Aiden groaned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked towards the screen again and sighed. “So you’ve never watched porn and never touched another dick? Wow, you’re just an unconfirmed gay virgin.” Changbin teaser, a light laugh leaving him, but when Aiden didn’t laugh with him and avoided eye contact, he stopped and his smile fell. 

“Aiden? Hey, you know it’s okay right? I’m just teasing.”

“I know!” Aiden said quickly, but his insides were swimming with such a mixture of emotions that he wasn’t entirely sure what he felt most, embarrassment, self-pity, arousal even? It was very confusing for him. He jerked when he felt a hand touching his shoulder and he shyly lifted his gaze to meet Changbin’s. 

“Do you wanna, touch mine?” 

The question had Aiden sputtering in shock, eyes wide and cheeks now a darker shade of red than it had been before. “Do what? No! That would be so weird!” He exclaimed. “We’re like best friends.”

“Yeah, and best friends help each other out.” Changbin shrugged. “You know, gotta make sure you’re actually gay before your embarrass yourself in front of Felix.”  Aiden whined at that, but Changbin had a point. It couldn’t hurt, right? After all, Changbin was offering. 

“You’re sure it’s okay?” 

“Yeah, let me just find something that’ll get you off and -“

“What about you? I thought you weren’t gay?” Aiden questioned. 

“Hmmm.” Changbin hummed in thought. “I’m an equal opportunistic person. It’s fine.” He waved his hand at Aiden, his other hand gliding across the trackpad of the laptop to find the ‘gay’ section of the website. He scrolled for a bit after finding it and ended up choosing a video that looked pretty amateurish but the two guys were pretty young and twinkish. Given Aiden’s current crush, he figured these guys would be his type. 

Aiden wasn’t entirely too sure about this half baked plan, yet there was something exciting about it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but the idea of actually touching another dick was appealing if the surge of arousal that ran down his spine was anything to go by. Sitting back against the headboard, his eyes stared at the video that was slowly buffering while Changbin fought to close the six pop-ups about meeting hot singles in their area. 

Grumbling to himself, Changbin finally got the pop-ups closed and the video began playing - volume set low though he swore it was extremely loud. Perhaps it was because they were trying to watch porn in the middle of the day, and Changbin’s mother was out in the backyard tending to her garden. It was risky but thrilling and that alone had him half hard. But he was still hesitant, not sure if he should just whip his dick out now and start touching it. While he wasn’t a stranger to touching himself, it was different when someone else was in the room with him - almost embarrassing. 

Changbin settled next to him, his hand rested on his abdomen and looking so very comfortable and not at all fazed by this situation.  Aiden almost envied how calm and collected he seemed to be and decided that maybe he would just imitate the other; settling himself in the same position as Changbin, eyes moving to focus back on the laptop where the lewd, slurping sounds were spilling from. 

Five minutes or maybe it was 3 hours - Aiden couldn’t be sure - passed, and the video only seemed like it was halfway done. The two men had only recently just started fucking and by now Aiden knew of two different positions you could have sex in. He was learning a lot, but at some point, he had stopped analyzing and started feeling. Feeling how hard he was, how heady the moans from the strangers on the screen sent weird yet pleasant sparks of white-hot something through him. It was a sensation he hadn’t experienced before but he liked it, he liked it a lot. His hand slowly slipped from its resting place on his stomach and casually slid down to the front of his sweats - tented from his straining erection, a small wet spot forming. 

His pinkie was the first to graze it, touch light and airy. He inhaled harshly because fuck if that didn’t feel good. His cock twitched, throbbed and Aiden wanted nothing more than to wrap his hand around it and start stroking. But he stopped himself, unsure if he should because Changbin was still there. And even though he offered to let Aiden touch his dick, he hadn’t uttered a single word since the start of the video. Biting his lower lip, Aiden decided to take a quick peek at Changbin, eyes shifting to the other male and widening at the sight. 

“Hey! You said I could touch it.” He all but whined out, Changbin’s hand stilling over his hard member, head-turning to face him. His cheeks were flushed a bright red, lips parted as soft pants left them. 

“Sorry?” He muttered out breathlessly, a smirk playing across his lips. “You didn’t seem to be interested in doing much. You haven’t even touched yourself.” Changbin noticed and Aiden didn’t know what was hotter, how deep Changbin’s voice sounded when he was horny or the fact the other had actually been watching and waiting for him to start touching himself. Maybe both were equally hot? His cock seemed to think so as it gave another twitch at the thought, a reminder that it was still hard and needed attention. 

“Oh.” It was a pathetic response and Aiden lowered his head in slight shame. The laughter that Changbin let out only added to the shame and embarrassment that he felt and briefly he thought that maybe this was a mistake. He wasn’t given the chance to even suggest that maybe they should stop when he felt fingers close around his wrist with gentle pressure. The movement was hesitant, Changbin giving him the chance to pull his hand away. Aiden let his hand be guided, though, watching with a curious gaze and excitement building up inside him as his hand was placed over the straining erection of his best friend. It was instinct that his fingers curled and closed around it and Aiden marveled at the feeling. 

It was different. He couldn’t explain why or how, but feeling Changbin hot and heavy in his hand was so different than feeling himself in his hand. He really it. Aiden moved his hand, angle awkward as he did his best to stroke the other - going slow at first as he watched Changbin’s expression for confirmation of how he was feeling. His lips were parted, soft moans leaving him as his hand fell from Aiden’s wrist, letting the other do what he wanted. 

“I-Is this okay?” Soft, meek, Aiden would have been embarrassed for just how damn shy and unsure he sounded at that moment, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was more worried about making Changbin feel good.

“Harder.” Aiden’s hands faltered for a moment, brows furrowing at the words. He found Changbin’s hand resting over his, fingers pressing into Aiden’s to tighten his grip and - oh. “Fuck.”

Who would have figured such a simple word could cause such a burning desire to bubble up in Aiden’s chest, a moan tumbling from his lips. Shit, how embarrassing. Was he supposed to be getting off on the sounds of Changbin? Wasn’t that weird? There were so many questions racing through his mind, but he had to push them to the back and focus. Focus on the hot cock twitching in his hand, precum beading up at the slit. He thought about tasting it but decided against it. That would surely be too weird for friends to do. 

His hand worked over Changbin at a steady and even pace. On each upstroke, he would give a little squeeze just under the head, an action he found that Changbin seemed to like as his head fell back against the headboard with a loud thunk - more sinful moans falling filling the air. 

“Binnie,” he brought his bottom lip between his teeth once more as he watched the way Changbin’s back arched, hips jerking up into his hand, driving his cock faster into his fist. “Changbinnie~” he tried again, successfully getting the other’s attention this time.  Dark eyes clouded with lust locked with his and Aiden gasped sharply, lips pressing together to suppress a moan because fuck if that look wasn’t hot. 

“What is it?” Aiden stuttered, stumbling over his words as he tried to tell Changbin that he wanted to be touched too, but the words simply wouldn’t come out. The corner of Changbin’s lip curled upwards and Aiden pouted, whining in frustration. 

“Me too.” He sounded like a child, wanting to be included and Changbin could only chuckle as he shifted on the bed - weight resting more on his left side as he reached over and ghosted his fingers over Aiden’s crotch, pulling a loud gasp from the other. 

“I barely touched you.”

“Felt good anyway.” Aiden whispered, eyes closing and head-turning away from embarrassment. Changbin laughed lightly, head shaking at the comment. Aiden was truly something else. His hand cupped Aiden, fingers closing around him lightly, stroking slowly. Aiden’s hips jerked up at the touch, loud whimpers and moans leaving him. 

“Be quiet, don’t want my mom to hear.” Changbin scolded lightly, receiving a whine in protest, yet Aiden bit his bottom lip to try and stifle the noises that wanted to spill from him. The pleasure he felt was different. It was stronger, heightened and he could only imagine it was like that because someone else was touching him. It was exhilarating. 

“Binnie.” Aiden breathed, breath hitching as he jerked his hips up again, his cock sliding against the loose fist around his still covered cock. “Please.” He practically begged. Changbin grunted and tightened his grip, but his hand was slow - almost lazy - as he mimicked the pace Aiden had slowed to on his own dick. 

“This better?” 

“No.” It sounded almost like a growl, Aiden’s brows furrowed together in frustration because it certainly wasn’t better. Sure Changbin was stroking him but it wasn’t nearly as fast as Aiden wanted. It was like a small sizzle of fire just under his skin and he needed some winds to fan the flames and make him burn. 

“Maybe you should start moving your hand then.” Changbin quipped, smirk dancing on his lips as Aiden finally turned his head back and stared at Changbin. 

“You’re the worst.” He whispered with a pout and Changbin snorted. 

“Hey, I wanna get off too. So start stroking.” Aiden rolled his eyes, but his grip tightened around Changbin and he started stroking him once more. His mind was focused once more on how Changbin felt in his hand, and the lewd moans he was pulling from the other, so loud against his ear. And he was the one that supposed to be quiet? “Fuck, just like that.” Hot and heavy - breathless - the words were whispered, Changbin’s lips grazing against his ear as he shifted closer to him. The hand left him, and Aiden was close to sobbing and begging for more that it was actually humiliating. But he wanted it so badly. He needed Changbin’s hand on him. 

Thankfully, before any words could leave his lips, Changbin’s hand slipped under the hem of his sweatpants and underwear. The second skin met skin, Aiden could swear he saw heaven because fuck if that didn’t feel amazing. “Binnie.” Aiden whimpered pathetically, his voice nearly inaudible over the loud hiss Changbin let out as Aiden squeezed him just a little too hard. Panting harshly, Changbin gripped Aiden and stroked him quickly, chuckling as Aiden jerked and trembled under his touch. His thumb grazed over the head, smearing each bead of precum that bubbles up.

Aiden groaned as he lowered his head to rest on Changbin’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut as he basked in the pleasure the other was causing. Briefly, he released Changbin’s cock long enough to shift himself into a more comfortable position facing the other. Reaching back down, he grabbed Changbin again and started stroking him - mimicking the way Changbin’s fingers moved over his cock. His movements were quick and not nearly as clean as Changbin’s but it seemed to be enough. Breaths mixed and mingled, moans lingering in the silent room as the two boys worked to get each other off. 

It was embarrassing how quickly Aiden reached his end, the heat in his gut coiling tighter and tighter. “Changbin.” He breathed out, wiggling against the other to grip the other’s wrist with his free hand and failing. “Stop, gonna cum.” Even with the warning, Changbin didn’t seem to have any intention of stopping. It only seemed to spur him on more as he stroked his cock faster. He was twitching and leaking heavily in Changbin’s grasp. “Chang-“

“Cum.” The demand whispered so hotly in his ear had Aiden tensing, his body reacting on its own. Needy whines and choked gasps fell past parted lips as Aiden’s head fell back onto the pillows behind him as he came into Changbin’s hand. It was intense, an orgasm that Aiden didn’t think it was possible he could have. He certainly couldn’t get himself off this well. 

“Fuck, shit.” He gasped out, muscles slowly relaxing as the last wave of ecstasy washed over him. The soft hum from Changbin captured Aiden’s attention and he reminded of what he should have been doing. He started moving his still hand once more, finding the movement slicker and as he looked down he realized Changbin already came - his cock softening in his hand, so he released him. He was at a loss for words now, both of them quiet save for their pants as they rode down their highs. 

Silently, Changbin reached over Aiden and grabbed a few tissues from his bedside table. Cleaning up their messes took a bit of time and in the end, Aiden was sure there was probably some cum that got on the comforter. “So, have fun?” Changbin asked as he tossed the wads of tissues into the trash can.

“Yeah.” Aiden swallowed thickly, tongue swiping against his dry lips in an effort to revitalize them. “That was mind-blowing.” He said and laughed lightly. 

“You think that was mind-blowing? Wait till you actually have sex.” Changbin snorted as he settled back down in his bed, laptop long-forgotten near the end.  “You’ve had sex?” Aiden asked in shock, eyes wide. How could his best friend not tell him something that important?

“No, I’m just saying.” Changbin said quickly. “I hear it’s supposed to be really good.”

“Oh.” Aiden wasn’t at all convinced, but he would let it go for now. 

“So, can you say with 100% conviction that you’re gay?” Changbin asked, reminding Aiden of the whole point of them even jerking each other off. 

“Oh! Yeah.” He said, a goofy smile spreading over his lips. “Dicks are fucking amazing.”

“Are they now?” 

“Completely. I wonder if Felix has a nice dick?” Aiden contemplated, crying out when Changbin shoved him roughly off his bed. “Dude!”

“I just got you off and you’re talking about another man. Not in my bed!” 

Groaning, Aiden sat up and leaned against the side of the bed. He stuck his tongue out at Changbin, laughing. 

“Whatever. Wanna shower?” He asked and Changbin nodded. “Cool, but no butt stuff!” Aiden said as he climbed to his feet, grinning. 

“I swear to god, I’m going to drown you under the showerhead.” Changbin threatened halfheartedly, pulling another laugh from Aiden as the male walked naked from his room. 

“You know you love me!” 

Yeah, maybe he did.

[dragonnan]

16, 17 and 19 for the most recent ask thingy, should you feel the mood sway you. 😁

The mood will ALWAYS sway me lol!

16. Describe your WIP that currently has the highest word count.

Simon and Simon and Psych (Psych/Simon & Simon) Word count: 24,323

So this one, in spite of not being updated in YEARS, is a story I’m still absolutely on fire to resume because I’m just thrilled af about the concept. It’s a crossover between 2 series I love - Psych and Simon & Simon (an 80s Private Detective series).  What excites me most about it was the reimagining of Simon & Simon for the modern era while still retaining all of the things that made the characters what they were.  

A little back story on Simon & Simon as I feel more people will be less familiar with that series of the two.  The series is about 2 brothers who decided to open a detective agency together after the younger brother, AJ (Andrew Jackson), left the larger detective agency where he had been working for several years.  

AJ is blond, surfed a great deal as a younger man, attended law school, and was considered the “golden child” growing up somewhat sheltered and cherished and maybe a tad innocent of the world.  When his brother went to Viet Nam, AJ took part in the peace protests - primarily because he was terrified for his brother and wanted to do anything he could to make the fighting stop.  AJ tends to be the more mature of the brothers - nearly always wearing a suit and usually takes lead in dealing with clients (assuming Rick doesn’t interrupt him).  

Rick, the older brother, left home after they father died and bounced around from various interests, including being a biker for a time, before going to Viet Nam.  He would come back from the war with a boatload of PTSD and a very fierce drive to protect his younger brother (probably far more so than he’d even felt prior to Viet Nam but to be clear - Rick is VERY protective of AJ).  All of that, however, might take the casual observer by surprise as Rick is incredibly irresponsible (on the surface) and nearly always in a good mood or quick with a joke.  Just don’t threaten baby bro other their mother.  Really, just do not.   

So that’s a bit of backstory so I can mention my changes for the modern era.  Instead of Viet Nam, Rick is now a veteran of Desert Storm.  They now both carry cell phones instead of relying on pay phones or other land lines.  They have a website.  I’ve updated their cars.  Before, AJ drove a red Camaro T Top so I changed that to a 2008 Chevy Corvette.  Rick, in the series, drove a 1979 Dodge Power Wagon so that one... did not change lol!  I seriously cannot picture Rick in any other vehicle. 

So after ALL OF THAT there’s actually a story in progress...

The plot thus far is that the Simon brothers are in Santa Barbara because AJ is running in the annual Half Marathon (an actual one cause I do like to blend some real events with my fiction lol).  While in town, Rick goes to run an errand - picking up an item his buddy Carlos had shipped but wasn’t able to pick up himself because Carlos is... sketchy (an actual character from the series that we hear about anecdotally from Rick).  Meanwhile, Juliet and Lassiter are at the shipyards as well, having set up a sting on suspicion of drug activity.  So, of course, when Rick goes to collect this item for Carlos, he ends up being stopped by the cops who confiscate the item after finding it filled with drugs and they arrest Rick.  THIS, then, is how the crossover comes into play as Shawn, of course, horns in on the investigation and immediately suspects that Rick is being setup so he volunteers to help out the Simons.  Various things happen which ultimately leads Shawn, Gus, and AJ back to the shipyards and a suspicious warehouse (aren’t ALL warehouses suspicious?) where suspicious men are rapidly emptying it of product.  The 3 men get caught and are bundled off in the back of a suspicious vehicle to a suspicious location.  At about this time Rick is let out on bail (thanks moooom....) and in a panic as he hasn’t heard from his brother.  When he realizes AJ must be in trouble, he ends up tentatively joining up with Juliet and Lassiter who are trying to find Shawn. Nobody is entirely thrilled with being teamed up in either group...

And this is roughly where things stand after the last update!     

So after I’ve subjected you to all of the above, how about a snippet from chapter 1?

___

Shawn Spencer spun slowly in his father's chair – maintaining just enough speed to make a full revolution before kicking himself into another circuit.  Typically he enjoyed his time at the station, provided he wasn't behind bars or being subjected to an interrogation.  Okay, scratch that.  He did enjoy an interrogation provided his hot pants girlfriend with a personal pair of handcuffs was the one dressing him down.  He leered. He didn't even have to try to make that sound dirty.  

Right.  Back on the subject at hand. Naughty cop Jules would, sadly, have to wait until they could have some private time.

If they could have some private time.  Of course, the way things were going lately...

And that brought him back full circle to his original beef.

Dad was being cagey. Like, Nick Cagey complete with diminished mane and sneaky covertness. Sure, he pretended he wasn't being covert but his dad sucked almost as bad as Lassie when he tried to fake acting casual. He was way too sour in the shorts to pull off that level of none chalice.

Like now, the old man was going for coffee. Like anybody with half a badge couldn't see right through that act. Shawn pulled together a mild sneer as his dad returned to his desk.

“Really? You put sugar in that too?”

His dad didn't look at him as he set his coffee on the desk. “Stop glaring at me. And get the hell out of my chair!”

Shawn didn't budge. “I am on to you.” He enunciated with immaculate exaggeration.

“The only thing you're on is my chair. And too many Pop Rocks; I thought Gus had cut you back to one pack a day.”

“I'm allowed two packs on the weekend.”

“It's Wednesday, kiddo. Maybe it's time you invested in a calendar.”

“Well maybe it's time you invested in hair plugs!” Shawn paused as his father crossed his arms. The pointing hand dropping back to his lap. “Too Terence Stamp? Sorry, I was caught up in the moment.”

“What do you want, Shawn?”  Giving up on patience, Henry opted for shoving his son until he toppled out of the chair.  Ignoring the yelp when Shawn flopped to the tile, he scooted closer to the desk so he could pull up the report he'd been working on.  Fingers just coming to rest on his keyboard, he scowled at the active game of Pitfall taking up his screen.  He tapped a button but rather than taking him back to the SBPD mainframe, it caused the character to jump into the green shapes he assumed were meant to be alligators.  Behind him, Shawn gasped.

“You just killed my last guy!”

“Be grateful that's all I've killed.” Slapping a few more keys he finally found the right combination to get back to his report.  

Still sitting on the floor, Shawn drew up his knees up and propped his chin on both fists.  Not even managing to type a single word, Henry sighed and swiveled towards his moping son.

“What, Shawn?”

Now that he had the desired attention, Shawn pushed his lower lip out the tiniest bit.  “Jules is busy and she said I can't help with the stakeout cause it's “super stupid important, Shawn” and Gus won't let me borrow the blueberry so I can follow her cause deep down inside I know she wants me to help cause, please, like I don't always make a stakeout better – I mean, who else is going to remember to bring an extra container of cheese dip for the nachos because one cup is just never enough and believe you me you do not want to short cheese a guy packing tear gas...”

Henry held up a hand to cut off the ramble that could easily go on another five minutes.  With his other hand he rubbed at his aching eyes.  Of course Shawn would find out about the sting.  However, Chief Vick had been adamant about keeping him out of it.  Henry had actually lobbied for including his son on the details – the memory of the last big operation that had temporarily cost him his job was not an easily healing wound.  Rather than even attempt reconstructing the word barrage of bitching, Henry latched on to the least pointless detail.

“Where is Gus anyhow?  I thought you two left an hour ago for dinner.”

Shawn shrugged.  “I don't know for certain...  I mean, by now he could be anywhere.  He's always expressed an interest in touring with Alicia Keys...”

“Shawn.”

“We went to Taco Louie's and he insisted on the deep fried beef and bean mini burrito...”

Henry raised his hand again.  Enough said.

“Well whatever you were thinking, I'm still not talking the Chief out of her decision.  You're bored?  How about you work on the burglary case I gave you.”

“Daaaad... the Redbox robberies?” Groaning, Shawn flopped on his back and sprawled dramatically. Officers passing back and forth shot glances at the display and Henry rubbed his face in embarrassment.

“Dammit, Shawn, get off the floor! You look like an idiot!”

Shawn sat up but didn't stand.  Nor was he ready to let go of his latest complaint.

“Come on!  Dad, Redbox?  That is so... not sexy!”

17. Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage.

This one is an Iron Man character exploration regarding Tony’s relationship with Obie and that, with hindsight, he realizes Obie had been grooming him.  It will never cross that crucial line but the potential leaves Tony reeling.  This will be in the same universe as another short fic titled “Simple Math”.  Here’s the bit of writing I’d put together so far:

_____

He'd thought it was bonding; at the time.  His dad had never been one for just hanging out; shooting the shit; telling tales out of school.  No, Pops, when he bothered to interact, led with questions.  “You keeping your grades up?” “You still seeing that floozy?” “When are you going to pull your head out of your ass and grow the hell up?” “You do realize it's my name you're disgracing every time you go on a bender?”

With Obie it was just, easy.  Obie might ask about school but it was always with approval and pride.  He would discuss Tony's conquests as though Tony had climbed Kilimanjaro wearing nothing but underwear and a cape.    

Obie was there when his father wasn't. Which meant that Obie was always there.  The first time he got astoundingly drunk on his father's scotch, Obie was the one to help him hunch over the toilet and vomit expensive, aged booze into the toilet.  Obie was also the one to replace the depleted bottle to keep Howard in the dark.  For a fourteen year old kid still trying to gain his dad's favor, that had meant everything.

He saw his first porn with Obie; sex education ala Traci Lords, three months shy of his fifteenth birthday.  That was the same time he was introduced to weed.  Obie had cautioned him to use it sparingly; didn't want to fry that genius brain, he'd say, and ruffle his hair.  The porn had made him uncomfortable.  Obie had turned it off and told him they could watch whatever Tony wanted.  They'd ended up changing the station to Knight Rider; smoking and munching Cheetos and laughing over their orange fingers.

It was Obie who was there, arm around his shoulders, after his parents died.  He desperately didn't want to sob in front of the man.  Things were so complicated with his dad that all he felt was blinding guilt... as though some part of him had caused this.  But Obie had filled him with bourbon until the emotions got soft around the edges and he'd sat beside the older man, head tipping gradually to the right until he was held up by Obie's bicep. Obie had just slung and arm around him and let Tony pass out while he rubbed a broad hand up and down his arm.

It was strange, now, looking back with adult perspective.  A perspective that included Afghanistan and his intended execution and Obie's arm around his shoulders while he talked about legacy and responsibility while Tony's lungs slowly seized.  He'd taken the time to sit there – arm around Tony's shoulders while one broad hand traveled up and down Tony's bicep – just like when he was a kid and Obie was the whole world.

He'd tried to remember if it had felt so tainted... at the time.  Or if he'd always believed it was love.

Obie had never quite crossed that line. Though hindsight offered a peek into that possibility with enough clarity Tony had fought with his cramping gut for nearly thirty minutes.  He'd staved off vomiting though he was fairly certain his dignity had still been in tatters what with Bruce wandering in on his misery.

19. What’s your favorite character headcanon?

Gosh... It’s funny that when asked the question the first thing that I ponder is “what head canons?? what are characters??? Do I even watch tv???” So I needed to ponder a bit.

As far as it goes my favorite head canons are not typically ones that I myself have come up with.  And going with that maybe the best one I know is for the series, and character, Sherlock.

I’m am 100% all in on Sherlock being on the autism spectrum.  Yes, I know this is attributed to MANY characters but consider the fact that those reasons have a ton of validity.  Sherlock has very strong indications of being on the spectrum and having read quite a number of essays on the subject, many of which were written by people who are also on the spectrum, I’m completely convinced.  It’s to the point I don’t even like calling it a “head canon” as that implies it’s only a fan concept and therefore has less likelihood.  It just feels so deliberate with that character.  

So going off from that I would say, in a more general sense, my favorite head canons are they type where we can discover neurologically atypical traits in characters - especially heroes.  Too long anyone neurologically divergent is portrayed either as a victim or, FAR FAR worse, as the “crazed villain” and frankly that is disgusting.  So it is beyond refreshing to suddenly have this amazing, brilliant, layered person who also displays autistic traits.  In going back over characters that I’ve loved most there are many who have traits of this sort that, only in hindsight, do I recognize.  Just a few off the top of my head; Malcolm Bright, Shawn Spencer (100% ADHD), Rapunzel, Rick Simon (remember him? lol), Adrien Monk (his OCD was very deliberate), as well as characters who’ve developed trauma after horrific events such as, well, most MCU characters but particularly Tony Stark and Stephen Strange.  Malcolm Bright also very much was built from trauma but I also am convinced there are neurologically atypical traits at play.  

Thank you so much for the great ask!!        

[nova9]

Taiyuu oct round 2. | Aimi vs Shou |

@taiyuu-high-oct

*im on mobile so it won't let me add a tab sorry for the wall of text!!!

To say you were nervous was an understatement, a very, very big one. And that nervousness only got worse and worse as you and your other classmates got closer to where you'd all be separated.

As a new transfer, you'd not managed to form strong bonds with anyone yet, but you didn't know anyone in class 1A that didn't consider you as a good team member, no one particularly disliked you, that you knew of at least.

But that was class 1A class 1B was a different story. You knew for a fact that there were people who didn't like you for your quirk. You didn't particularly mind that at all because everyone's entitled to their own opinions. Still, now that you were going to be facing off against them, it was an utterly different situation.

Aside from the fact that you'd never really used your quirk in combat against another living thing before. Not even in sparing somehow, you'd gotten away with just avoiding activating your quirk for its intended purposes. Instead of using your blades to strike, they'd only ever been activated to defend you from blows, create armor, or other pretty mundane uses.

This morning as you sat with your classmates and listened to the principal, announce the next round of exams. You'd crossed your fingers, hoping that it would be a written one, but of course, it wasn't, why would it be?

This is a school for future hero's to master their quirks, and to protect people,

To master your quirk, you have to use it in combat.

Something that terrified you to do.

The last time you physically used your quirk on someone, they lost an arm. While yes, they would have died had you not done what you had still, the way your blades so easily cut threw his flesh and bone, like it was nothing but soft butter, was both amazing and downright terrifying.

Years of practice have given you the ability to dull your blades at will, which thanks to your classmates and trainers protective gear and quirks of their own combined with upmost discipline on your end have made it so that no one has gotten their skin broken even accidentally.

But still, you knew better than anyone else that a dull blade is still a blade; all it does is make the cut a lot less clean.

Coming to Tayuu has been both remarkable and utterly awful in the fact that it's like removing a bandage that's been on way too long and has kind of grown into the skin. You're excited to get it off, but it hurts like hell to take it off. You're also too scared to just rip it off all at once, so its just kind of dangling there on your skin getting caught and tugging on things which makes it sting even worse.

You knew that you would be using your quirk on others eventually. You knew that you'd have to do it, but now your stomach feels like it's trying to claw its way out of your throat as you got closer to the place where this whole simulation would be taking place.

As far as you comprehended, all there was to do was locate and retrieve the ball. God, you wished that you had the confidence to just think of it like that. But there was also the fact that you were up against a member of the other class. It could be against someone who hated you. It could give them a reason to attack you, forcing you to use your quirk on them, and you didn't want that.

You didn't know much about anyone from the other class. This was the first time since your enrollment that you'd taken part in a class vs. class scenario.

The field of manufactured buildings that replaced the training grounds was so vast that you couldn't even try to see who was on the other side even if you knew it was the other class the fact that you didn't know who you'd be facing off against was nerve-racking enough on its own. Not to mention the fact that you had to defeat them to get a chance at winning probably.

"Lighten up, Aimi! You'll do great!" Ameko, one of the classmates you've gotten close too called at you over her shoulder as she walked with her friends ahead of you. You'd always had a habit of trailing behind the group. Even if no one ever really given you a reason not to feel included. The opposite, they've all been inviting for the most part. Even Lymeron, with her rash personality, people often joke that if she's not trying to fight, then she doesn't love you.

You're still not used to the concept of friends, but that doesn't mean you're not interested, you've just gotta get a better hold on your quirk first then you'd feel comfortable with hug attacks or jump scares. But until then you're happy watching them be happy from a distance. Your only hope at the moment anyway was to make sure you didn't fail them.

You knew that just passing the entrance exam wasn't enough to prove that you'd be a valuable team member, wanted that fact to be carved into stone, and getting passed someone you had no clue about was one step closer you'd get to that goal.

You were on the number one spot which you hated, and you were to stand here and watch your classmates walk farther down the stone column to their own spaces.

It was nothing but something to make your already spent nerves worse. It gave you time to look out over the vast playing field clearly marked with barriers and lines that defined where you were allowed to be and where you weren't allowed to be, it also gave you time to start a complete internal meltdown.

You weren't stupid; these other students had weeks more class time than you did, most of them had a ton more experience with their quirks than you did. The chance that you were going to succeed was slim to none, but you were just stupid enough to take that chance, so when the buzzer sounded announcing the start of the game, you jumped in just as fast as anyone else.

You dodged in and out of the buildings and alleyways, not having any real point of focus other than to find this damn ball orb thing. It was much easier said than done, you could hear the sounds of battle around you, but you weren't particularly concerned with them. You were too busy flitting around looking in each and every window you could reach for the orb.

As time drew onward, you could tell that finding the orb alone was going to be almost impossible, and the threat of an unknown opponent was always on your mind. You could hear explosions going on from other fights you didn't see or hear anything from your opponent at the same time.

But what if that's the point?

What if they've got a stealth quirk made for sneaking, and if they have any kind of tracking ability, they'll have the orb back to their goal before you get a chance to even lay eyes on it.

You got deep enough in thought that you almost didn't hear it—the tapping.

It was like glass tapping against the glass, and while it was hardly audible over the other fighting, it was distinctly closer, so you played a game of high tension hot and cold with the damn noise. Either it was your opponent or something else, finding anything at this point would be better than finding something.

You were almost at a loss until you saw a faint blue flickering against a shop window. Upon closer inspection, you realized that it wasn't in the shop but the building opposite the road. It looked like an apartment building, and somewhere near the third floor was a light blue flickering glow.

Without thinking, you took the most direct route by scaling the side of the brick building with your blades as climbing gear. You noticed that it seemed more natural to hoist yourself the higher you got.

You hardly paused for a half a second to look for the ball before you busted into the room the glow was coming from with your quirk.

As you stepped into the room, you almost thought that you'd mistaken a ceiling light for your orb because it was on the ceiling.

It confused you for a moment because it looked almost like it was stuck up there, but before you had the chance to get a good look at it, it was getting closer to you, or so you thought. When you moved to step away, you realized that your feet weren't actually o the ground anymore.

You were fucking floating?!

And then it happened again.

That embarrassing thing always happens when you get startled, and you hate it, not only because it shows how little control you have over your quirk but also destroys your clothes.

"Oh, my bad." A voice said from behind you as you struggled to maneuver yourself around in the air, you started to float towards being upside down. As the person made their way around you, you were able to direct yourself towards them just as they grabbed onto the orb-like, it was nothing.

You'd seen them a couple of times in the hallway. You didn't know their name or anything, and to be honest, you didn't know what their quirk was until right this second, but apparently, it was something to do with weightlessness or antigravity. A quirk you'd never really thought you'd be going up against and had no clue how to combat.

Great.

"Hey!" You shouted as they reached for the orb so casually it was insulting. "I was here first!" You added as they looked at you with mild confusion. "Physically, I mean, I guess." They shrugged. "But my quirk is what got you up here so fast, so technically I was here first." They said.

You couldn't do much other than struggle to stay upright as they casually made their way towards the door like it was nothing. They thought that you weren't a threat, and could you blame them? YOu're floating around like a dummy.

You were so frustrated that by the time he was out the door, you were half in tears.

Here you were with your super lethal quirk reduced to nothing but a bumbling fucking balloon floating there pitying yourself.

You then noticed that you were slowly lowering towards the ground.

You didn't go directly after them as soon as your feet hit the ground because you knew that there was a chance that you'd just be floating again if they knew you were closing in on them.

You went outside the building and began climbing downwards but stopped as soon as you noticed yourself feeling lightweight again.

You froze on the spot. You didn't even know if you were breathing. You wanted to be as quiet as possible to remain undetected. You watched as they exited the building threw the main entrance lazily floating tossing the orb as if they were utterly unbothered by the fact that they were in any kind of competition at all.

You took the time you had to analyze, hoping they couldn't freaking teleport or anything else like that.

You watched taking note of the fact that there seemed to be a limited area of zero gravity around them, making everything around them float from papers and rocks in the streets to cars that seemed to lift themselves slightly when they got too near.

But there had to be something that could be done.

You finished climbing back down as they entered an ally way back towards their goal area. You had time, but not much. You had to move now that you had a prime opportunity; it could be the only chance you had.

You ran towards the alleyway, and as soon as you got the feeling of weightlessness, you anchored yourself to the ground with your blades, ruining your shoes but keeping you in place.

All you had to do was keep yourself attached to the ground or to the narrow alley walls to get done what you needed to do.

You didn't give yourself time to second guess the plan and ran for it.

When they noticed you were there, they turned around in shock, but with how quick you were landing a punch square in their snout wasn't hard and it sent them spinning in their quirk.

But it also caused them to let go of the orb, sending it floating up towards the sky. You moved on impulse, not stopping to consider if what you were doing was going to work, but thank god it did!

You were able to use their quirk to help you propel yourself upwards, gripping into the stone of the walls for leverage and kickback off of them to get closer to the orb.

You were able to grip onto it and had hardly an inch of space left on the wall to anchor yourself before you would have continued floating to the freakin moon!

Once you were secured, you looked down to see your opponent floating up towards you and the lack of gravity getting stronger every foot they got closer to you.

There was no point in fighting them. Their nose was already dripping blood that was pooling up from where you probably broke it.

Now all you had to do was get away, and with your blades, that was a done deal.

You didn't think you'd ever ran so fast in your life, and as soon as you felt your full weight on your blades, you left nothing but small box cutter sized blades out on the bottom of your feet just Incase to keep some small grip on the ground as you sprinted.

You started feeling sick the moment you got into view of your goal line. It wasn't a familiar feeling but not something you felt often. Its what happened when you used your quirk too much, your iron was too low, which made you nauseous and faint.

It didn't stop you from making it, though! You ran over your goal line and to the back to place the orb on its pedestal before promptly turning around and spilling your guts all over the ground.

Despite winning, you felt super embarrassed. Your clothes were destroyed, your makeup was running from crying before, you puked all over what was left of your shoes, and there was a possibility that you'd pass out in it.

Whats a win when it cost you all this?

"Good job Otsuka!" A voice you didn't expect to hear chimed in front of you. You looked up to see the principal of the school standing there, smiling at you like you didn't have puke covering the front of your shirt.

Laccadaisy thankfully pretended that she didn't see you using your tattered shirt sleeve to wipe the tears and vomit from your face. YOu didn't think you could have withstood embarrassment anymore at the moment.

"T-thanks, but I could've done better." You said hoarsely because your throat still stung.

"What do you mean? Last I checked your goal in quirk training was to use your quirk in battle effectively." She asked, turning her head confused. "I didn't use my quirk in battle…" you mumbled, not understanding.

She stood there for a moment before laughing at something.

"The battle wasn't to beat your opponent, the point of this test was to get the orb and you did that. You used your quirk to do that." She said confidently. "I could name more than a few people who wouldn't have had such an advantage against Mujuyo Shous Mircogravity quirk!" She added.

"But if I hadn't-" you started

"If you hadn't thought to use your quirk effectively, you would probably be floating in the sky somewhere by now." She interrupted you.

"You're thinking too critically about the whole thing. You did what you meant to do." She added as if that was the end of it before another buzzer went off in the distance.

"Opp, there's another one! I'll see you later! Go to the medbay and get checked, we're all going to meet in the mess hall when everyone's finished!" She called over her shoulder as she made her way towards the latest buzz.

Every step you took towards the med bay, you felt worse, your lightheadedness coupled with the fact that you couldn't keep yourself from shaking made you feel like you should work on your limits as much as restraining your quirk.

You tripped over your own feet about halfway there, and while it hurt when your cheek scrapped the sidewalk, the cold concrete felt good against your skin.

****

You woke up in the med bay still half out of it. The dizziness only got worse as you sat up.

"Here, this should help you feel better in no time!" The nurse said, handing you what looked like candy before you even asked any questions.

"Sorry." You muttered after shivering at the bitter taste of the completely deceiving looking purple gummy.

"For what, dear?" The nurse asked as if she had no idea what you were apologizing for.

"I know I'm a bit heavier than I look, must have been hard carrying me back here." You said.

"Oh, I didn't! Young Mujuyo did! Their quirk makes things like that easy, you know!" She said happily before someone in the cot next to you started groaning out in pain.

The same Mujuyo you'd just sucker-punched in the face brought you back? To say you were confused was an understatement, but you didn't feel like pressing the nurse for more details when you were more hungry than anything else.

When you got to the mess hall, you found a table of your classmates who'd finished their matches, and they welcomed you into the conversation with enthusiastic praise about your passing.

You did, however, catch Shou's eyes from across the room, and even though they lost, they were still laughing with his friends. When he saw you looking at them, they just smiled and gave you a wave-like he wasn't bothered at all.

[haddockfamily]

Hiccstrid. Either 2, 11 or 35 please. ☺️

I’m so proud of the non smutty parts of this? But I’ve been dying to write some smut and I have no idea how to so bare with me! I apologize for the awful smut you’re about to read lol 11. Rough Sex35. From behindFrom the smut prompts!

Is this even considered rough? Probably not but I did my best.Smutty times under the cut!________________

“You were completely ignoring me!” 

“Since when is talking to someone, but also including you in the conversation, considered ignoring you?” 

Astrid scowled, pushing open the door to their apartment and dropping her things by the door before turning to face her boyfriend. He was shutting the door slowly, annoyance and something else she couldn’t place written all over his face as he hung his jacket on the hook. “It’s ignoring me when they start asking you questions about what you’re doing this weekend and don’t include me once in that, but also told her I’m a friend? I’m your girlfriend, Hiccup, or have you forgotten that?” 

“How could I forget that?” He mumbled, eyes landing on the stuff Astrid had dropped. He sighed, “Could you not just throw your stuff down? We have a table right here for a reason.” 

“Stop trying to change the subject. Why would you tell her I’m just a friend? We’ve been dating for five years! Did you not want her to know? Who even was that?” 

“It wasn’t that, I just -“ 

“Not proud to show me off? Embarrassed?”

“Astrid, what? No! It’s just -“ 

“I can’t figure out for the life of me why you’d do that. You’ve always been so ready to show me off as your girlfriend. Why was this time any different?” 

Hiccup ran a frustrated hand through his hair with a sigh. His arms dropped to his side in defeat as he made eye contact with Astrid. “It was Camden.” 

“Camden? Your ex? Great. Fantastic.” 

Astrid turned on her heel, making her way to the kitchen. She couldn’t do this right now. Hiccup had told her all about Camden and how their relationship had ended. How she had cheated on him, and made him feel like he constantly wasn’t good enough. How could he stand there and have a full-blown conversation with the person who hurt him like that? Camden had been his longest relationship before Astrid, and she can get trying to stay friends with an ex, but Astrid has had no contact with her ex that broke her heart. She can’t wrap her head around wanting to stay friends with someone who would cheat on or use you. It doesn’t make sense to her. Hiccup had acted so calm when he was talking to Camden. She remembers how Hiccup said she made him feel. Why would he carry on such a long and friendly conversation with her, while Astrid was standing right there and not even mention that he is in a happy committed relationship? One where he isn’t being used or cheated on near constantly. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I don’t want to talk about this right now. I just want to make dinner so we can go to bed.” 

“No, Astrid.” She turned the corner that led to their kitchen and he let out a frustrated sigh. “Astrid, you always do this. You always walk away when something comes up that you don’t want to talk about.” 

“Drop it, Hiccup.” 

Astrid was busying herself in the kitchen. Pulling down boxes of who knows what before shoving them to the side until she found something she was satisfied with. He knows better than to push a conversation with Astrid when she’s mad, and she’s furious. Logically, he knows she has the right. If she had stopped him on one of their date nights to talk to Eret, the guy who broke her heart before they had met, he would be angry, too. A little jealous, but furious over anything else. Why couldn’t he stop himself though? Why is he so set on pushing this argument they’re bound to have over any of their others? 

“We aren’t dropping this one. You can’t just -“

“Can’t what? Be mad? I think I have the right to be.” She turned her back on him, heading to the sink and filling the pot up with water before headed towards the stove. Hiccup reached forward, gripping her elbow and spinning her around to face him. “Hiccup! Are you trying to make me drop this?” 

“Just talk to me, Astrid.” 

Astrid wasn’t sure if it was the desperation in his voice or the look in his eyes that got her to give in. She gave a defeated sigh, setting the filled pot on the counter and leaning against it, crossing her arms over her chest. “Talk.”

“I didn’t tell her you were a friend on purpose. It just.. slipped my mind, I guess? It’s not a good excuse, I know, and I’m so sorry. You have every right to be mad at me. I don’t blame you for it one bit, but I didn’t do it on purpose to make you upset. I haven’t seen her since we broke up, and I think it just messed with my head a bit. I would never want to hurt you that way.” 

Astrid bit her lip and nodded. Does she feel a little guilty for how she reacted? Yes. She’ll always feel bad when she feels anything less than happy towards Hiccup. “I… I know you didn’t do it on purpose. I know you would never do that. It hurt originally because you didn’t tell her I’m your girlfriend, but then finding out it was Camden just rubbed me the wrong way. It made me feel like you were hiding the fact that you’re in a new and better relationship.” 

He reached forward, taking her hand in his. “You’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for, Astrid. I would never want to hide that.” 

Astrid ran a tired hand down her face and nodded. “I know that. I guess I just need to hear it sometimes.” She gave him a smile, gently pulling her hand from his and gesturing to the pot still sitting on the counter. “Can I make us dinner now?” 

Hiccup hummed, taking a step back and watching her as she turned. He was genuinely upset a bit that their date night got spoiled, because Astrid had really gone out for it. She’s wearing one of her favorite skirts, her hair pulled back into one of her famous braids, and her favorite blue top. He reached forward, giving the end of her braid a gentle tug. “I think dinner can wait a little longer.” 

Astrid let out a surprised laugh, glancing at him over her shoulder. “You can’t seriously be in the mood right now?” 

He shrugged, smiling at her. “What can I say? You look beautiful.” 

His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back into him. He pushed her hair off to the side, placing kisses down her neck and tugging on her shirt sleeve to reach her shoulder. Astrid tilted her head for easier access as his other hand traced down her side to the edge of her skirt and slipping underneath. Astrid let out a soft moan at the feel of his hand gliding between her legs before she bucked back against him and shot him a glare. “Kitchen, Hiccup. I’m trying to make us dinner.” 

“I can think of something better to be doing.” 

“Yeah, me too, but we shouldn’t do this in the kitchen.” 

Astrid felt a hand between her shoulder blades pushing her forward until she was leaned on the counter. She folded her arms in front of her for some level of comfort while Hiccup flipped her skirt up and quickly pulled her underwear down. His fingers buried themselves between her thighs and he smirked. “For someone who’s so against sex in the kitchen, you’re worked up.” 

Astrid moaned as Hiccup pushed two digits into her, curling his fingers. She pushed back against his hand. “This is.. exactly how I expected our night to end.” 

The room was silent except for the sounds of Astrid’s whimpering as Hiccup determinedly worked to getting her off with his fingers. Astrid rested her head on her arms, feeling too much and not enough at the same time. She wanted him to carry on using his fingers, but was also more than ready for him to just take her. “Hiccup. I need.. I want -“ 

She lifted her head when he pulled his hands away from her body and heard him undoing his belt, looking over her shoulder at him and biting her lip in anticipation for what was to come. Hiccup wasted no time in pulling his cock free and lining himself up to enter her warm heat. 

“Oh Gods.” she hissed, dropping her head to her arms as he filled her. 

Hiccup stilled once he was in her, his hips flush against her ass. He reached up, pulling the tie from the end of her braid and running his fingers through her hair before giving it a gentle tug. Astrid lifted her head groaning, “Come on, Hiccup. Move. Don’t start something you can’t finish.” 

She rocked back against him, his hand not tangled in her hair gripping her hip, trying to keep her from moving too much. He pulled back slowly and pushed back in, working his way up to a rhythm that would push them both over the ledge. The grip in her hair tightened, letting the sounds of her whimpers and moans drive him closer to his own climax. Hiccup released his hold on her hip, his hand going between her thighs and fingers rubbing her clit to help push her over the edge. Astrid had to have hers first, it was the rule. 

Astrid tensed, legs shaking and back bowing. Her nails tried digging into the counter top for some kind of grip to keep her anchored as Hiccup fucked her through her orgasm. Hiccup leaned forward, resting his forehand against her shoulder as he came, her orgasm triggering his own. His hips stuttered as he filled her, the grip he had on her hips almost bruising. 

They stood in silence, Hiccup still buried in her while they caught their breath. Astrid pushed sweaty bangs from her forehead before resting her face in her hands. “Sex in the kitchen wasn’t too bad.” 

Hiccup laughed, placing a kiss on Astrid’s cheek and pulling out of her. Steadying her with a hand on her lower back. “Most of my ideas aren’t bad.” 

[xxx-cat-xxx]

Ayy I am here with a request!! One of my favorites of your fics is the one where Tony, Clint, and Bruce are all in a safe house and can't leave and Tony has a stomach bug. I LOVE that setting. Would you be interested in writing another fic that takes place there? Maybe someone is on a mission with Tony and he starts to not feel well so they try to find a place to rest and by the time they get there, he's barely conscious? :O

Thank you for the prompt, dear! I decided to simply write a second chapter for that fic. I hope you feel better soon with your new meds and all

This is mostly whump and Avengers family fluff and banter. TW for illness and vomiting. Major thanks to @whumphoarder​ for beta reading.

___________

Safe (Chapter 2)

Read chapter 1 here. 

The thing is, none of the Avengers consider themselves particularly lucky. Brilliant, strong, heroic? Yes, without question. Happy? Not nearly often enough, but it has happened occasionally. Lucky? Not a chance.

So, maybe, Bruce thinks later, maybe they should have seen it coming. 

He’s jerked awake by Clint’s command of “Move! Let’s go, get up, come on, we need to go, now!” and for a moment he’s gripped by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. But Clint isn’t delirious; he is as serious as Bruce has ever seen him, so Bruce complies with the orders before his brain is even fully awake. 

The two of them drag Tony to his feet and into the bedroom, and then Clint shatters the window - a bit dramatically, but really, what else to expect from a former circus kid? They jump through, landing in varying states of (non)-elegance, and make a run for it. 

Five seconds later, the house blows up. 

“What the hell -?” Tony stops dead in his tracks to look at his friends with a baffled expression. “‘s this another fever dream or did someone actually just try to kill us?”

“Oh, it’s quite real,” Clint replies casually, picking an ember from his hair with a peace of mind Bruce can only envy. “I saw their van approaching through the window. That gave us a head start - otherwise we’d be toast. Now save your breath and move.”

Tony starts to jog again with visible effort, but of course he keeps talking. “So - just to make this clear” - he interrupts himself to drag in a breath, sweat beading on his brow despite the fact that it’s been barely a minute - “your so-called ‘safe house’ is now a heap of burning ash. Call me a stickler, but I have to say that makes it a very unsafe house.”

Clint just rolls his eyes and then grabs Tony by the elbow when he almost trips over his own feet. The archer turns his head back to Bruce, who is following them close behind. “You okay?”

Bruce is wondering what about escaping death by a five-second margin could possibly make him feel “okay”, but he knows what Clint is really asking about. Bruce is scared, which means that the Hulk is actively stirring in the back of his mind, but so far he is able to keep him under control. He makes a so-so gesture with his hand before asking, “Where are we going?”

“To take cover in the woods.” Clint points at the forest a few hundred yards away. “Under different circumstances, I would fight, but we don’t have any weapons on us and this isn’t ideal…” He nods at Tony, who is now visibly having a hard time keeping up. Bruce’s stomach clenches in worry; with a fever like that, Tony shouldn’t even be on his feet, let alone running around in the open. But it’s not like they have much of a choice.

They barely make it to the treeline when Tony suddenly stops and doubles over. He braces himself against a tree and heaves, a slim stream of vomit splattering onto the ground.

“How bad is it?” Bruce asks. His vision is shimmering green by now and he blinks nervously before massaging the pressure points on the inside of his wrists in an effort to calm himself down.

Tony coughs wetly and spits onto the ground before wiping his mouth. “I’ve been worse,” he says in a weak attempt at being reassuring. “Just, break?”

Bruce looks at Clint, who nods. They barely manage to rest for two minutes before a bullet whips past them, hitting the tree Tony was just leaning against. 

“Fuck,” Clint curses, his nonchalance replaced by alertness. “Looks like they’re coming after us -” 

The rest of his words are drowned out by a growing ringing in Bruce’s ears. There’s the familiar sensation of his limbs tingling, pulsating, swelling. He can feel his thoughts slipping away, being replaced by much simpler ones. 

“No Bruce! Not now, don’t -”

But it’s too late. Danger, friends in danger, his mind screams, and that’s all it takes. 

The Hulk emerges from the forest with a roar.

*

When Bruce comes back to himself, it’s with dizziness, exhaustion, and a sense of nausea, but also with the remnants of satisfaction in the back of his mind telling him that Hulk has sufficiently taken care of the bad guys. 

He is naked, of course. Naked and alone and cold, somewhere in a forest in the middle of nowhere (and then people ask him why he dislikes his alter ego). With a sigh, he makes it to his knees, feeling shaky and lightheaded. 

“Hello?” he calls hoarsely, and then, louder, “Tony? Clint?”

It takes him twenty minutes of walking in a random direction that he keeps telling himself is the way out of the woods until someone starts answering his calls, and another fifteen until he finds Clint and Tony in a small clearing that is being illuminated by the last rays of daylight. To Bruce’s surprise, they made it quite far into the forest; he wonders what Clint had to do to make Tony walk this much. 

Tony is sitting on the ground, leaning against a tree, while Clint is balancing somewhere high up in the branches, likely keeping a lookout. When Bruce approaches the clearing, the archer jumps down with an agility that makes Bruce wonder whether they should give him a different nickname. Monkey-legs instead of Hawkeye, for example.

“Hey, Big Green,” Tony greets with an enthusiasm that can’t hide the weariness in his tone. “Or should I say Little White now?” 

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Bruce can’t even muster a grin. “Um, by any chance, do we have some spare clothes here?”

And that’s the thing about friends. They’ll tease and poke you endlessly, they’ll embarrass you without limit, but when it comes down to it, they will give you the shirt off their back without making a big deal out of it. Quite literally, because two minutes later, Bruce is wearing Clint’s jeans and button-down, while Tony is giggling into his palm, unable to tear his eyes off Clint’s colourful boxers, which are decorated with a pattern of bows and arrows (“It was a gift from Lila, dude. Now shut up, or I’ll take off your pants.”)

This time Tony obliges, but mostly because they haul him to his feet a few seconds later and his face completely drains of colour. Reeling, he squeezes his eyes shut and grasps blindly for something to hold on to. Clint and Bruce jump to support him from either side, exchanging a worried look over his head. 

“Let’s just get back to the safehouse, alright?” Clint says to Tony. “We’ll find a way to contact the others and then we’ll take you to a hospital.”

Tony nods and takes a deep breath before opening his eyes. “Okay,” he exhales. 

They make their way back very, very slowly. Bruce is shaky and nauseous himself, his body still trying to adjust to the sudden shift back to human form, but he can’t imagine how Tony must be feeling with the fever burning him inside-out. And that’s not even to mention the dehydration and tanking blood sugar he must be experiencing. The engineer is unusually quiet and visibly dizzy. Most of his weight is resting on Clint and Bruce, but he keeps tripping over roots and fallen branches.

They’ve just made it out of the forest and can already see smoke climbing in the sky when Tony suddenly sags into Bruce. “I really don’t feel well.” His voice is almost indiscernible. “I might - I, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“We’re nearly there,” Bruce reassures, his heart beating fast in his chest. “Can you see the light?”

“I see lights everywhere,” Tony moans, still stumbling along. “Fine, but if I conk out, don’t leave me here to be eaten by wolves.”

“There are hardly any wolves in Arkansas,” Clint points out, but even he looks concerned. 

*

Tony is barely conscious by the time they reach what is left of the house. Most of it has burnt down, with only one of the exterior walls still left standing. Smoke is curling up from the ruins, making them all cough and their eyes water.

“Oh god,” Bruce whispers, imagining the state his friends would be in if Clint hadn’t gotten them out so quickly that morning. 

Clint just shrugs. “Could be worse.” He gently extricates himself from Tony’s arm around his shoulder. “I’ll check whether it’s safe - stay here for now,” he orders as he starts to climb into the ruins. 

Bruce turns his face to Tony. “Hey, you still with me?” he asks. 

The only answer is a grunt. Tony’s face is sweaty and even paler than before, his breaths coming out fast and shallow. He seems to be having difficulty focusing his eyes on Bruce. 

Luckily Clint returns a minute later, towing a smoking mattress behind him. “Whatever is left of the bedroom and bathroom is safe to enter, but I wouldn’t sleep there -  the fumes are bad. Let’s just camp out here for now.” He set the mattress down next to Tony. 

“Can we get in touch with the others?” Bruce asks. 

“Yep. Found my phone - it’s still working.” Clint holds up the device. Glancing at the engineer’s now closed eyes, he adds, “StarkTech has its perks, but don’t let Tony know. You should get settled. I’ll fetch us some water.” He turns to climb back into the building. 

“Good news - you can rest here until the others come,” Bruce addresses Tony, slowly lowering him down. 

“Hmm. Heard what Clin’ said…” Tony slurs.

“Yes, that’s great. Now lie down.”

Tony curls up on the still-smoking mattress with a little shiver that evokes a sudden instinct of protectiveness in Bruce. It’s odd; that feeling is usually left to the Hulk’s spectrum of emotions, and if anything, Tony would typically be the one to protect his friend should the need arise. Bruce shakes his head to clear the thoughts, but the warmth in his chest stays.

The blankets are beyond saving, but Bruce finds one of his sweaters that’s still mostly intact and drapes it over Tony’s form, calming the shivers running through him. 

Clint returns with a bucket of water and an empty plastic bottle to fill, more clothes, and a partially-melted bottle of Tylenol for Bruce that he accepts gratefully. He would prefer an IV in order to get Tony rehydrated and lower the fever, but they’ve got to make do with what they have. 

Bruce takes two pills himself and then sets to rouse the engineer while Clint tries to call Natasha.

“Hey, Tony,” Bruce lightly shakes the other man’s shoulder. “Take some meds, then you can rest more.”

“Mhh…” Tony blinks up at him miserably. His eyes are wide and glazed over from fever, and his breaths are still coming heavily. 

“Come on.” Bruce supports his friend’s head while Tony swallows the painkillers and a few sips of water. 

“Ugh.” A shudder runs through Tony and he swallows thickly. “Feel sick.”

“I know. Just try to keep it down, okay? It will help with the fever.” Bruce wets his sleeve with a bit of water and wipes it gently over Tony’s forehead and his cheeks, cleaning away the sweat. Tony grimaces against the nausea, but then he seems to relax a little into Bruce’s touch. He closes his eyes and sinks back onto the mattress, curling tighter into himself. 

“Roger. Talk to you later,” Clint says and ends the call. He turns to Bruce. “It was a series of orchestrated attacks on the team. Nobody was seriously injured, if you don’t count Nat’s broken ribs and Cap’s burnt eyebrow, but SHIELD’s in chaos and it will take them a few hours to get to us.”

“Ah. Okay, that’s fine.” Bruce feels the adrenaline slowly wearing off, leaving only fatigue. He takes a few sips of water himself before handing the bottle to Clint and sinking down onto the edge of Tony’s mattress.

“Are you okay?” Clint asks. 

“Yeah,” Bruce replies, “Just… tired. And, you know, glad we didn’t die.”

“Ditto.” Clint grins. “You should lie down with Tony until the cavalry arrives. I’ll keep watch and alert you in case anything happens.”

“Are you sure?” Bruce asks. Hulk-outs always leave him completely wiped out and his usual routine after missions is to tumble into bed immediately and sleep for at least a day. Being horizontal sounds incredibly tempting, but he feels bad leaving all the work to Clint. “I could stay up with you…”

“It’s okay. Trust me, this isn’t even close to the amount of stress of the average SHIELD mission.”

“Oh. Well, then…” Bruce trails off, unsure what to do with that information. It’s somehow simultaneously reassuring and concerning. “Just wake me up if anything happens, okay?”

“Sure.” 

By the time Bruce has gently shifted Tony so that he can fit next to him on the mattress, Clint has already started a campfire. Tony doesn’t fully wake up when Bruce lies down next to him, just murmurs something unintelligible and then buries his head in the shoulder of Bruce’s hoodie.

Tony is still far too hot, but between the engineer’s fever and the campfire, Bruce gets pleasantly warmed up. Usually, Bruce has a hard time falling asleep around people, and never in a million years would he have thought it could happen in the aftermath of an attack on his life, but somehow, with Tony essentially cuddling him from behind and Clint watching over them, he feels safer than at most places he ever stayed at before joining their little band of misfits. Watching the flames, it only takes him a few minutes to doze off.

Once he is sure that both men are sound asleep, Clint settles down cross-legged next to the campfire, and pulls out his phone. Then, smiling softly, he takes another photo. 

______________

All my fics

Taglist: @toomuchtoread33​  @yepokokfine​

@badthingshappenbingo​ - This is the prompt fill for the square “Kick them while they’re down”. 

[bittykimmy13]

The Longest Night

Midwinter is here. For years, Bristel has been smitten with Yarrow, a fairy from a viciously rival village. Nothing can prepare him for the moment that Yarrow requests his company at the Midwinter festival. And certainly nothing can prepare him for the consequences.

~~~

SAY HELLO to my fixation from the past 2 months!! Bristel and Yarrow will appear in a future Shot in the Dark novella!

Characters belong to me and the lovely @marydublin5 <3

(( More Shot in the Dark. ))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You don’t seem excited. What happened? You’re always buzzing before solstice festivals.” Rhona’s eyes darted higher in her vanity mirror to look at Bristel across the room. “You get to see your lordling. What, has he become less dreamy recently?” Bristel was sprawled on Rhona’s bed, so lost in thought that it took him a moment to catch up with what she said. He sat up, pointedly ignoring the dreamy comment. “It would be more exciting if he actually spoke to me.” “What do you mean? You’ve vanished half the night the past few festivals. You don’t have to lie to me if you’ve been sneaking off with him.” Her gaze sparkled with intrigue, desperate for gossip. “I won’t tell a soul.” “Well, when all your friends are soulless, that shouldn’t be hard.” He walked up behind her and checked the mirror to make sure his lavender hair wasn’t too tousled from laying down. “But for your information, I do not sneak off with him. Solstices have become so boring, I can barely remember them. Forgive me for not flying laps around the room.” “Hm. Maybe take it easy on the wine tonight, then.”

Bristel flicked his hand at the mirror, frosting it over with ice. Rhona whirled around, pouting.

“No need to get testy,” she said. “I was just so sure I saw him leading you off into the shadows during Midsummer.”

“What are you talking about, he barely looks at me!” He began pacing—luckily Rhona’s room offered ample space for Bristel’s wings to flicker with agitation. “I thought he was making some sort of cute game of it, but it’s gone on too long. He doesn’t have any interest in me. And, well… it’s for the best, isn’t it? It’s not as if anything worthwhile could actually happen between us.” Giving up on her reflection in the frosted mirror, Rhona strode into Bristel’s path. Her peach hair was pinned loosely, allowing most of it to fall in elegant waves. Her gown glittered like starlight, befitting a young woman of her status. “Don’t be a spoilsport,” she chided. “There are plenty of fairies around here who make eyes at the ravine villagers during solstice—and they do more than that, but you didn’t hear it from me. It’s harmless fun, it doesn’t have to mean anything.” She egged him on with a scandalous grin. “And don’t lie to me. I know you haven’t given up hope completely.” He crossed his arms. “What makes you say that?” “I see you fussing over your hair.” She reached out and tapped the side of his face with her fingertips. “And I know you only came in here so I can glamour some pretty festival glyphs around your eyes.” Bristel shrugged innocently. “Or maybe I like spending time with you when your posse isn’t around?” “Sure, Bris.” She steered him to the vanity. “Sit down and take that stupid ice off the mirror if you want me to make you presentable for your lordling.”

~~~

Bristel entered the Midwinter festival with silver glyphs shining around his eyes. It went perfectly with the icy decorations that swept across the tree trunks and shrubbery that enclosed the festivities. Soft light glowed from the windows carved into the tree trunks. Even the creek that coiled halfway around the grove seemed iridescent tonight. Already, the visitors from the ravine village had arrived. As Bristel and Rhona flew their way through the mingling crowd in the grove, he could sense the typical tension that was present at every solstice festival.  They were civil enough tonight, but tomorrow, they would go back to being bitter enemies. The shaky truce was practically held together by Midsummer and Midwinter, when both villages would honor the extremes of the seasons side by side. There were musicians peppered throughout the festival—both from the creek village and the ravine village. The rivals tried to outshine each other. Some solstices, this led to a discordant tune of harps and fiddles and flutes. Tonight, the rivalry seemed to work in harmony. There was no denying the elegance of two rival girls practically dancing around each other in the air while they plucked their strings. Pausing at one of the shrubs, Bristel swiftly reinforced a shimmering pattern of ice that looked like it might be melting. Although it was the dead of winter, the grove was glamoured to stay at a mild temperature. He had performed a great deal of the spellwork that would keep the ice and frost intact through the night. Perhaps that would impress Yarrow. But likely not. Rhona grabbed Bristel’s arm, distracting him from his work. “Your lordling is looking at you,” she whispered. It was horrifically embarrassing how quickly Bristel swiveled his head. He tried to make up for it by allowing his eyes to rove casually, as if he hadn’t spotted Yarrow immediately by one of the decorative shrubs, accompanied by the other royal families from his village. He wore wine red tonight—one of Bristel’s favorite colors, but that was entirely irrelevant—and he was indeed looking back. Bristel tentatively raised his hand in greeting and wrestled away a hopeful smile. In response, Yarrow clenched his jaw and looked away, choosing instead to talk to his sister. Rhona shuddered. “I can’t stand that one,” she said under her breath, nodding at the sister. “High Lady Wren. What a nightmare.” Tearing his eyes away from Yarrow, Bristel frowned. “Why, what’s wrong with her?” “Really? You’re obsessed with her brother, and you don’t even know what she is?” “A high lady?” Bringing her voice even lower, Rhona glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “Her affinity is manipulation magic, from what I’ve heard. I’m surprised the other royal families allowed her to take her father’s place after his death. But now that I think about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s using her magic to manipulate the lot of them. Or maybe they’re grooming her into some kind of torturer.” Pursing his lips, Bristel sized up Wren. Although she was older than Yarrow, she was smaller and unassuming. It was hard to believe she housed the kind of glamour that could completely rearrange and unhinge a fairy’s mind. Yarrow looked away from Wren to scowl at Bristel. “I don’t know what you see in him,” Rhona said, tugging his arm to lead him in the other direction. “He’s seems like nothing more than an egotistical hothead.” “He wasn’t always like that,” Bristel argued, allowing himself to be taken to one of the many refreshment spreads at the base of a tree. The familiar scent of vegetable stew and warm berries made him feel marginally better. “He used to smile at me. He used to look like he wanted to talk, but his father refused to let him leave his side.” “Well, his father’s not there anymore, is he?” Rhona grabbed a berry slice, weighing it in her hands. “Face it, your lordling is grown up now and he’s turned into one of them. He realizes you’re not worth getting tangled up with.” He shouldered her. “Hey, thanks a lot.” “Oh, you know that’s not a knock on you. Look at you, you’re positively enchanting. But he’s been taught nothing but contempt for our village.” “Since when have I ever really been considered part of this village?” The words came out hotter than intended. He started to apologize, but Rhona recovered quickly, clearing her throat. “Come on, if you want to fool around with a ravine boy, we could find someone who’s less… important.” When Bristel didn’t answer, she sighed and kneaded her temples. He saw her gaze wander closer to the center of the grove, where a group of her cohorts had their heads bent together as they talked excitedly about something or other. “Go on,” he said, offering a half-hearted smile. “I’ll come find you when I’m done moping.” Part of him wanted her to insist on staying and keeping him company while he moped, but she looked relieved at being let off the hook. She squeezed his shoulder good-naturedly and fluttered off, leaving him to his troubled thoughts. He tried not to feel empty inside when Rhona’s friends greeted her with a chorus of hooting cheers. Just as he was working up the motivation to grab a bowl of stew, someone came up beside him. He didn’t look their way, stepping aside in search of somewhere more isolated to gather himself. But then she spoke. “Hello.” Bristel nearly jumped out of his skin, goosebumps raising along his arms. It was Yarrow’s sister, Wren. A high lady and alleged manipulator. Her long hair was jet-black like Yarrow’s, decorated with little shards of rubies shimmering like wet blood. Her smile was friendly enough, but there was something lurking beneath her eyes that he didn’t want to search for. “A radiant solstice to you,” he uttered in greeting. He’d never spoken to a manipulator before, but he knew the stories. They were capable of terrible and amazing things. She didn’t seem particularly intimidating, and that made her all the more frightening. “You were staring at Yarrow,” Wren said, reaching for a berry slice. “You make it too obvious.” Color rushed to his face. “High lady, I-I wasn’t! I… I’m not even sure who you mean. Is he, er… related to you?” She giggled. “You’re a bad liar too. Are you enjoying the festival?” His mind raced. Why on earth would a high lady from the ravine village care that he, of all people, was enjoying the festival? “It’s fine,” he said, his gaze darting around desperately for Rhona. “It’s a bit boring, isn’t it?” He drew in a steadying breath. Wren must have been used to this type of flustered reaction, because she didn’t seem bothered at all. For all he knew, she was already working her magic on him as punishment for staring at her brother. He wondered if he would even be aware of it. Before he could answer her question, let alone sort out his own questions, someone came up from behind Wren and took her shoulder. “The other lords and ladies want to know where you’ve gone off to.” Yarrow. Wren turned to him and pouted. “I’m sick of talking politics. Can’t you see I’m trying to make friends?” She gestured at Bristel, who felt more like a hostage than a friend. “Isn’t the point of this whole dull festival to make nice with the creek people? I can’t do that with the court breathing down my neck—everyone around here is afraid of them.” Yarrow smirked. “Afraid of you, perhaps. With all your creepy staring and unsolicited conversation.” And unholy magic, Bristel added. “I find that offensive,” Wren said, jabbing Yarrow in the chest. “You have every right to. Now hurry, before they start getting upset.” It was the strangest thing, seeing a high lady shooed off by her younger brother, but they must have had a much more comfortable relationship than it appeared on the surface. Bristel couldn’t help but feel like he had been saved—and by someone he fancied, no less. Relief should have overtaken him, but when Yarrow’s attention turned to him, he found his heart thudding with uncertainty. “Don’t mind her,” Yarrow said. “She’s still getting used to her rank as high lady. Our father would keep us on a short leash during festivals to make sure we stayed out of trouble. I suppose we’re both still unsure what to do with the freedom.” Bristel nodded shakily. “Seems you never left the royals’ side for years.” Amusement flickered at the corner of Yarrow’s lips as the implication hung in the air with all the subtlety of an earthquake. “Not that I’ve been paying close attention!” Bristel stammered. “It’s just—well, the royal families in your village don’t seem very interested in mingling outside their circle. Not that I’ve been keeping track of that, either.” He heaved a sigh and dragged a hand down his face. “I’m not trying to be rude, really, I—” “I don’t think you could be rude even if you tried,” Yarrow cut in. “Though perhaps by accident. Do you remember when we were children? The first time you came to my village for Midsummer, you didn’t look where you were going. You flew right into me.” Bristel would have gladly allowed the earth to swallow him where he stood. “You remember that?” “Of course! My father threw a fit, and you were apologizing so quickly, I couldn’t understand what you were saying. Then you flew off before I could get a word in.” “You did get a word in. Several of them. ‘Why don’t you watch where you’re going?’” Yarrow chuckled. “Did I really say that? I don’t recall. All I know is that I kept an eye out for you every festival after that.” Face growing hotter, Bristel stared at the refreshment table. There were other fairies there now, acting as though they were interested in the food, but he could sense them eavesdropping. “You wanted to make sure I didn’t ram into you again?” Bristel asked. “That, yes. And I always thought you seemed… interesting.” Oh, stars. Someone at the table was bound to have heard that. He’d have to ask Rhona about what sort of gossip started roving around—a ravine royal talking to the creek’s lonely outsider. “Yes, well…” Bristel gestured around vaguely, desperate to pile on how interesting he was. “I did help with some of the ice enchantments myself, you know. I mean, it’s… not as impressive as the decorative flames in your village during Midsummer.” A full-blown smile sprang to Yarrow’s face, startled and endeared and… sad? All three emotions vanished swiftly when he looked down and cleared his throat. Before Bristel could ask what was wrong, Yarrow fixed him with a more serious look that made Bristel’s heart sink. Certainly this was where the two of them would part ways, and Yarrow would tell him to stop staring all the time. “Would you like to accompany me tonight?” Yarrow asked. “Well, we’re… already accompanying each other right now, aren’t we?” Yarrow raised his eyebrows. “I thought it might be polite to ask a little more formally.” “Oh.” Bristel thought his heart might explode. “I’m not usually this stupid, I promise you.” Yarrow offered his hand, apparently oblivious to the stares around them. “Is that a yes?” Bristel wanted nothing more than to take his hand, but he resisted. “What about the royals, and your sister? Won’t they be upset if they see us… accompanying each other?” “You needn’t worry about them. I can make my own decisions.” He closed the distance and took Bristel’s hand. Then he lowered his voice. “But if you’re so worried, fine. Do you know of any places we can go where no one will bother us?” Bristel was reeling from the contact, praying that he wouldn’t let out a burst of ice from sheer excitement. “I know just the place,” he said. Although his wings were folded tightly to his back, Bristel felt like he was floating as he led Yarrow to the edge of the grove, careful to weave around the shrubbery to lose the gazes of whoever was casually watching. Along the way, he spotted Rhona, who looked on with a strange mix of disapproval and pride. She raised her hand and wiggled her fingers at him. Bristel pressed his lips together to hide a smile, hurrying on. “I’ve always liked this place,” Bristel told Yarrow, flitting over the roots of a massive tree. He landed amongst the entanglement and made his way down until the soft earth was beneath him. “It floods when the creek swells, but it’s safe enough right now.” Yarrow picked his way through the roots efficiently. “It’s nice,” he murmured. “And you can still hear the—” “Music,” Yarrow finished. “Of course.” He leaned back, half-sitting on one of the jutting roots near the edge. “So… you’re something of a ward to your village’s council, aren’t you? Does that mean you’ll have a seat on it one day?” Bristel swallowed the urge to lie. The last thing he wanted was to talk about how much less impressive his status was than Yarrow’s. “Not exactly,” Bristel admitted. “I’m more of an attendant, really.” “Oh? How did that come about?” “I wasn’t born in the village. My mother was nomadic. I was a child when she brought me—barely ten or eleven. We stopped in the village, and she… she was killed by an owl when she was out foraging. I was more or less adopted by the council and made to earn my keep. No family was willing to take me in, seeing as I was an outsider. Still am, in their eyes.” Yarrow scoffed, his eyes darkening. “Strange, how your village and mine have different ruling systems. Yet when it comes down to it, it’s all about blood and insiders and outsiders. What a farce.” He softened. “I’m sorry about your mother.” “It’s alright. She wasn’t much of a mother, if that makes it any better.” A funny little smile came to Yarrow’s lips. “No. It’s still pretty depressing.” He casually conjured a ball of purple flame and began tossing it back and forth between his hands. “But believe me, I know how it feels to be disconnected from those around you. The people who are supposed to be your family.” “I’m sorry about your father.” Bristel tried to catch Yarrow’s gaze, but he was too busy playing with the fire. “That was just a couple years ago, wasn’t it? Is it just you and your sister now?” “We have two younger brothers. We aren’t ready yet to keep them under control at festivals, so they stayed back at the village with their governess.” He gave a heavy sigh. “It hasn’t been easy since my father died. Not in the slightest. It feels as though every day Wren and I have to bend over backwards to prove that she is worthy of her title as high lady. And she… she’s changed quite a bit these past months. I barely recognize her.” Quiet hung between them for a few moments, wrapped gently in the music from the festival. “The other royals will have to accept her eventually, won’t they?” Bristel asked softly. “You’re both from a powerful lineage. They have to respect you.” Yarrow extinguished the flame, smoke curling in front of his face. “I’m nothing but a pawn to them. And now, it feels like she sees me the same way. Like I’m someone whose entire worth is based on how useful I am and how well I obey.” His gaze flickered up to meet Bristel’s, vulnerable. “Surely you can understand.” Bristel nodded slowly. “Of course I do. The council expects me to do everything they say, but it’ll never be enough. As long as I’m here. I’ll always be an outsider who should be grateful to live here at all.” Yarrow straightened up and pushed away from the roots. He looked taller with the low earthen ceiling hanging just above his head. He circled around Bristel, looking him up and down thoughtfully. Color rose to Bristel’s face, and he pushed his hair back, trying not to feel like he was being appraised. “I’ve seen you talk to others,” Yarrow said, sounding almost as if he was interrogating. “You’re not a complete outsider.” “Sure, there’s a few who don’t look down their nose at me all the time, but that doesn’t mean I belong.” Although Yarrow passed out of sight, Bristel still felt his eyes. He self-consciously reached up for his hair again, then dragged his fingers down the side of his face. As Yarrow came to stand in front again, his hand flew out and snatched Bristel’s. “Stop doing that,” Yarrow said matter-of-factly, as though he hadn’t just made Bristel’s heart ascend to the stars from the sudden contact. “You’ll ruin your glyphs. I’m sure you don’t want all your friend’s work to go to waste.” Bristel slid his hand free and frowned. “Did… did I tell you that Rhona did the glyphs for me? I don’t remember that.” For the first time that night, it was Yarrow who looked flustered. “Well, I always see you around her at the festivals, and I’ve overheard that she’s the one you creek people go to for solstice glyphs.” Something stirred in Bristel’s chest, knowing how closely Yarrow must have been paying attention to him and those he was around. The notes of the music outside began to stretch into a slower tune—a traditional ballad dedicated to the longest night of the year. Yarrow straightened his shoulders, as though composing himself, and met Bristel’s gaze. “Would you like to dance?” Yarrow asked. Bristel's instinct was to turn him down, certain that he would only make a fool out of himself if he danced with royalty. But instead, a breathless “yes” croaked past his lips. Yarrow didn't hesitate to pull him to the center of the earthen enclosure, and thankfully he didn't expect Bristel to lead. Bristel followed along as best he could, trying to keep his eyes on Yarrow's face instead of down at their feet. Luckily, the steps were similar to the ones Rhona had shown him the past few years. Finally, he was putting that practice to good use. They slowed down, and Yarrow guided Bristel's arms around his neck before slipping his own hands around Bristel's waist. “You’ve been practicing,” Yarrow said softly. “Is it that obvious?” Bristel’s chuckle cut off when Yarrow tugged him into the air, their wings buzzing in harmony. Bristel stared in wonder. “You're a master at this.” Yarrow pulled in closer, practically resting his chin on Bristel’s shoulder. “I have to be,” he whispered. The sound of his voice made pleasant chills creep along Bristel’s skin. Then they began to dance in the air. Bristel focused on not letting their wings collide, but that wasn’t a problem. Yarrow was a natural. He moved as if he knew exactly what to expect, as if the two of them had danced together a million times before. Has he been imagining this moment as much as I have? Bristel wondered. “Do you ever think about leaving?” Yarrow asked suddenly. Bristel stopped at a hover, snatching his hands back in sheer surprise. “Do you?” “All the time.” The light in Yarrow’s eyes was urgent, almost manic. “I just… I never wanted to go alone. I suppose I’ve needed someone to convince me to go through with it.” Unable to believe his ears, Bristel stammered for a second. He had thought about fleeing day in and day out for years. And somehow, the royal he had been swooning over was a kindred spirit. “What about your family?” Bristel asked. “Your rank?” “It doesn’t even feel like family anymore. I can’t take it. One of these days, I’ll end up speaking out. Everything is hanging by a thread, and I feel like I’ll ruin everything for Wren and my brothers if I stay any longer.” Swallowing hard, Bristel took a leap of faith and moved closer. “Then let’s go. Let’s leave this stupid rivalry and politics behind, if that’s what you really want. We could be nomadic.” Something strange came over Yarrow’s face again, rife with sorrow. He looked down, as if he was having second thoughts. “This rivalry… I’m sure you here all about how much your council hates us royals.” Bristel nodded somberly. “All they want is to have one over on your village. Wanting you to get the short end of the stick with trading and territory and all that nonsense. They’ve been especially upset these past few years. You always seem to be one step ahead.” “Is that so?” Yarrow pursed his lips and chuckled humorlessly. “What do you mean about trying to make us get the short end of the stick?” “Well, there’s talk to take more neutral territory for us. Through force, if necessary. They want to be sly about it at the negotiation tomorrow.” Bristel leaned in to catch Yarrow’s gaze, a tentative smile growing. “But that won’t matter anymore, will it? Not for us. That is… if you really mean it about running away.” Yarrow avoided eye contact, pondering. “We should flee while the festival is underway. We’re already at the edge—as long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves, no one will notice. We can stop at my village for supplies before we leave this forest for good.” Bristel could scarcely draw a full breath. He had never felt so simultaneously light and conflicted. No, not conflicted—just sad. He knew what he wanted, there was no conflict there. This place had never really been a home for him, but he would not be able to say goodbye to Rhona. He would simply vanish, though surely she would put two and two together once the news of Yarrow’s disappearance spread. “Let’s go,” Bristel said. He took Yarrow’s hand and guided him out of the roots. The fresh air seemed fresher than ever when they emerged into the night. It wouldn’t be wise to start flying until they were further away. In his hurry, he almost didn’t feel the clamminess of Yarrow’s hand. “Yarrow?” Bristel pulled to a stop and turned around. The music was still playing, and there were conversing voices just beyond a patch of shrubbery. He spoke in a low tone. “Are you sure you want to do this? You’re shaking…” Yarrow let go and took a step back, looking Bristel up and down before settling on his face. Then he grabbed Bristel’s shoulders and leaned in until they were nose to nose. One moment, they were frozen. The next, they both acted: their lips crushed together. Bristel slid his hands up Yarrow’s chest, then around his neck. For a few blissful moments, nothing else mattered. Not until Yarrow broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Bristel’s. “I’m sorry,” Yarrow whispered, his violet eyes wide and evasive. He delivered another kiss—fleeting and frantic. “I really am sorry.” “What?” Bristel cupped his face, trying to catch his stubborn gaze. “What on earth could you be sorry for? We’re leaving! We’ll be together. We’ll—” His whispers choked to a stop when someone came around from the side of the shrub. Wren folded her arms, looking amused. Bristel dropped his hands from Yarrow’s face, but Wren had to have seen everything. He turned to Yarrow, frantically searching for some clue of how to react. “My, my, you’re certainly getting faster at this,” Wren told Yarrow, then waved him off. “Stand aside. I know it wasn’t easy for you to watch last time.” Yarrow clenched his jaw with a longing glance at Bristel. “A few more minutes. Please.” She shook her head. “I told you to be careful, that you were getting too attached. But did you listen?” “What are you talking about?” Bristel demanded, looking between the two of them and shuffling back. Wren sighed and kept her eyes on Yarrow, as if Bristel was beneath her attention. “Tell him, if that’s what you want,” she said. “He didn’t take it well last time. Nearly had a breakdown, the poor dear. What makes you think this time will be any different?” “Yarrow.” Bristel felt like ice was spreading through his chest. “What does she mean last time?” Letting out a slow breath, Yarrow fixed him with a pleading look. He struggled for a moment before getting the words out. “Listen to me, Bristel. This isn’t the first solstice we’ve spent together. It’s the fifth. These past Midsummers and Midwinters, we’ve been sneaking off together, just like tonight.” “No, that’s… that’s not right!” Bristel closed his fists at his sides. “This is the first time we’ve spoken more than a minute, for stars’ sake!” But a shiver ran through him when Yarrow spoke his name—it was the first time he’d said it all night. And Bristel didn’t remember giving it to him. “Yet you’re always ready to jump into his arms,” Wren said, finally addressing Bristel with a sneer. “It’s quite sad, really. Sad enough to make you grow on Yarrow quite a bit. I’m not fond of seeing him upset. Feel free to take comfort in that, but it must be done.” “What is ‘it’?” Bristel asked. Yarrow hesitated and glanced at Wren, who merely crossed her arms, looking more and more annoyed. “It’s… memory alteration,” Yarrow said. “You won’t remember tonight as anything but another uneventful solstice. I’m sorry, Bristel… I just—I’m sorry. We needed to prove our worth to the other royals. Wren is able to keep her position if we offer inside information about trading and upcoming negotiations.” Bristel blinked hard, fighting the threat of tears. “Why? Why me?” “You’re a ward of the council,” Yarrow said helplessly. “And he saw you were smitten with him over the years,” Wren said. “And this is quite enough, Yarrow. There’s no sense in tormenting him any further. Leave, and let me do what I need to do. He won’t feel any pain, you know that. He won’t remember how terrible he feels right now.” Yarrow didn’t budge. He squared his shoulders and glared at her. “No.” “What did you say?” Wren snapped. “I said no. Not this time. Not ever again. I… I can’t do this anymore.” He stepped between Bristel and Wren, his hands trembling at his sides. “I’m done fighting tooth and nail just to be allowed in our own home. We can get far away from here, Wren. Now, while everyone’s distracted with the festival. We can stop at the village, get the boys, and leave all this behind. I refuse to be part of this.” “You’re out of your mind!” Bristel considered flying off as the siblings viciously bickered. There were other fairies just beyond the shrubbery, in the grove. He could call for help… But anger boiled inside of him. Whatever glamour had been performed on him must have been melting away now that he knew the truth. It all came rushing back the more he thought on it, like a blindfold had been ripped from his eyes. The past four festivals had played out the same as tonight, beat by beat. The difference was Yarrow’s improving efficiency. Wren startling him when he was alone. Yarrow coming to shoo her away. Bristel eagerly finding solitude with him. Dancing. Speaking as though they were kindred spirits. The promise to run away together… Betrayal. “It was your idea,” Bristel said softly. The other two turned to him, but he only had eyes for Yarrow. “The first time this happened… You said it was your idea. You laughed. You laughed at how easily I fell for you and your lies.” Yarrow did a good job pretending to be devastated. “Bristel, no. That was two years ago. That was before I… I got to know you. I was just so relieved we had a way to stay in the royals’ good graces—” “But it was your idea, wasn’t it?” Bristel snapped. “Tell me!” The music in the grove faltered at his shout. “Yes,” Yarrow said, his voice breaking as though the word stabbed him in the gut. If that simple word really hurt Yarrow, Bristel wasn’t content to leave it at an emotional wound. His affinity may have been ice, but an inferno of rage burned inside him. He gave a cry of anguish and threw his hands out, aiming them at Yarrow. A gale of ice blasted him squarely in the chest, and he choked out a grunt as he was knocked off his feet. He sprawled on the ground and gasped for air. “How dare you!” Wren shrieked. The sound of buzzing wings approached, voices raising with alarm in search of the commotion. Several other fairies came around the shrubbery—villagers from both the ravine and creek territories. One look at the lordling on the ground was enough to send the ravine villagers into a fury, but they were the least of Bristel’s worries at the moment. Wren was upon him. He could have shoved her off if not for her magic. She dug her fingers into the sides of his head, screaming an incantation he had never heard before. All at once, Bristel lost feeling in his legs. He collapsed while the other fairies looked on. He searched desperately for someone to help him, but no one lifted a finger against Wren. He opened his mouth, but he could not speak. Wren went on with her twisted magic, taking more and more from him. A haze entered the corners of his vision, tunneling into the center. He could see the creek village council and ravine village royals push their way to the front of the forming crowd. Two of the royals ran over to Yarrow, helping him sit up as he clutched his chest and fought to steady his breathing. One of the high lords took the lead, his voice booming over the confused murmurs. “What is the meaning of this?” “High Lord Ivar, this creek parasite attacked Yarrow!” Wren declared. “Unprovoked! I tried to stop him.” Bristel shuddered and tried to speak, but the glamour was too strong. Wren’s fingers were still locked around his head, holding him up. “Treason,” Ivar spat, rounding on the creek council. “Such violence at a solstice festival is punishable by death! And he is your ward, is he not?” Try as he might to fight his haze, Bristel couldn’t make himself react to his own death sentence. He merely sat there as if every bone in his body had been glamoured into lead. His eyes settled on Elise, the head councilwoman of his village—the closest thing to a maternal figure he’d had since his mother’s passing. Elise pursed her lips into a thin line, addressing Ivar. “How do we know your lordling didn’t strike first?” “You’ll find no burns on your ward,” Wren said, then she muttered another spell. “I have a dose of truth glamour on him. Watch for yourself.” She maneuvered herself around Bristel, placing herself right next to him. “Nod or shake your head. Did you attack my brother?” Bristel had no control. He nodded. “Did he raise a spell against you?” Wren asked. He shook his head, wailing on the inside that she had been the one ready to throw his mind into darkness. But his lips would not move. Outraged shouts rang among the crowd from the ravine villagers. Even the villagers of his own home looked on in disgust that he would bring shame upon them during the festival—one they were hosting, no less.   Elise looked down at Bristel gravely and heaved a sigh. “There is nothing we can do to protect you, you fool,” she growled. “You know the nonviolence pact as well as anyone. Why you would choose to do this… I don’t even want to know.” She turned to Ivar. “He is at your mercy. Do with him what you must, but understand, he is an outsider. He does not represent us.” “No!” Yarrow staggered to his feet and went in front of Ivar. For a moment, Bristel thought he would tell the truth. Instead, Yarrow threw a glare of contempt his way. “As much as I would love a public execution, I humbly request that we take him prisoner. I want to make him suffer for what he did. I’m owed that much, seeing as I was his target.” Ivar narrowed his eyes, then nodded. “Select a team of guards to take the prisoner. You and High Lady Wren will go ahead to the village with them. The rest of us will stay a moment,” he said, turning his hard gaze to the council. “To discuss this unfortunate incident.” Wren undid the spell enough so that Bristel could not put up a fight, but he would not be dead weight. Guards came to collect him, and he was half-dragged away. He still couldn’t speak—he could barely breathe. As he searched desperately for someone to defend him, he caught sight of Rhona at the edge of the crowd. Her hands were over her mouth, and her eyes were glistening. But she only watched. ~~~ In the hour it took to reach the ravine village, Bristel focused all of his energy toward breaking out of the glamour, but it was no use. He was forcefully escorted down into the rocky chasm where the village was hidden, and everything happened so quickly that the following silence was more frightening than the initial descent. Soon enough, he found himself alone. The glamour didn’t begin to wear off until he had been laying in his cell for what felt like ages. Feeling came back slowly to his body, but exhaustion hit him and he could barely bring himself to move. There was little he could do but lay there and take in his surroundings. He had been taken to Yarrow’s village—a place he visited once a year on Midsummer—but he had never gone underground into the network of rocky tunnels. When they had dragged him in, he tried to keep an eye on where they were taking him, hoping to find his way back outside if he managed to escape. The twists and turns were too confusing to keep track of. They had finally stopped in a dead-end tunnel, and he had been shoved into an alcove. The team of guards performed spell after spell: an earth-affinity fairy had conjured roots to grow straight out of the rock to seal the alcove like bars, and another couple of fairies had glamoured his prison to make magic unusable on the inside. Once Bristel found the will to move, he took a shuddering breath and pushed himself up to his hands and knees. He couldn’t fully stand in the cramped cell. Scraggly vegetation clung to the ceiling of the tunnel, dotted with the dim light of glowing white flowers. There didn’t appear to be anyone outside his cell. He tried to force his arms through the thick roots, but they would not give way. Thorns scraped viciously at his skin. He clawed at the base, where the roots erupted from the ground, but he was no match for the spellwork. It didn’t stop him from trying. He meticulously picked at every root, his hope dwindling with each fruitless second. He stopped when he heard someone coming. Jolting away from the roots, he folded his wings tight and sat with his back against the rocky wall. Perhaps his fate had been decided by the royals. Perhaps he was about to be executed. “This is where he is,” the earth guard’s voice said. “Perfect.” Yarrow turned the corner at the end of the tunnel, coming into the flowers’ light. He faced the guard. “Leave us.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “My lord, I don’t think it would be wise to—” “I want some privacy with my attacker,” Yarrow said coolly. “And unless you doubt the spellwork of your fellow guards and yourself, I should be perfectly safe.” The guard didn’t try to talk him down again. She walked off and turned the corner, leaving Yarrow and Bristel entirely alone. Bristel stayed back against the wall, his breaths becoming quicker. Try as he might to look furious and nothing more, tears pricked at the back of his eyes as he glared through the roots of his cell. He was glad his voice didn’t shake, at least. “Well, it looks like you’re about to lose your smitten victim,” Bristel said, astonished that he could talk about his own death so matter-of-factly. “What will you do when I’m gone, turn your sights on someone else? After that scene I caused, I doubt anyone from the creek will want to go near you.” Yarrow walked right up to the cell and dropped to his knees, gripping the roots. He began murmuring a spell, his eyes never leaving Bristel. Purple flames flickered from his hands and began eating away at the bars. Gasping, Bristel pressed himself back harder. The roots—the only thing separating him and Yarrow—fell away to ashes. Raising his hands, Bristle choked out his own spell, but the anti-magic glamour was still thrumming inside the alcove, even with the physical barrier gone. He peered wildly past Yarrow, wondering if he could rush past quick enough to conjure an ice spell inside the tunnel. But what good would that do? All Yarrow needed was shout for a team of guard to come barreling down the tunnel. Bristel squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the agonizing burn of fire. “Get up,” Yarrow whispered urgently. “I can make a distraction, but you need to be quick.” Bristel’s eyes flew open, releasing tears down both sides of his face. “No. Please. Please stop. I-I don’t want to do this anymore. No more games. Just do what you came to do.” “This is what I came to do.” Yarrow ducked into the alcove, making himself just as vulnerable to the nullifying glamour. He took a seat beside Bristel, who leaned away and looked straight ahead. The tunnel was wide open, but he wasn’t foolish enough to make a run for it. Not yet. “I had to make them think I came to torture you,” Yarrow went on softly. “But I won’t. Of course I won’t. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I wasn’t lying when I said that Wren’s changed. And about how I’m sorry for everything. You need to get away from here. I’m giving you the opportunity. It won’t make up for everything I’ve done to you, but it’s a start.” Bristel stared. For an instant, he allowed hope back into his shattered heart. “How do I know this isn’t a trick?” he asked nonetheless. Desperate as Yarrow looked, his eyes took on a reckless sort of spark. He grabbed Bristel’s arm, then shoved him out of the alcove. Bristel whirled around and to see Yarrow still crouched in the magic-free zone, making himself entirely vulnerable. “There,” Yarrow declared. “If you’d like to have a free shot at me, you’re more than welcome to. You’ve got nothing left to lose, right?” “You… you’re awful,” Bristel croaked. “You’re a liar. You may not have manipulation magic, but you are as much a manipulator as Wren. You could have gotten me killed tonight—and you still might. But… if you really mean it about escape, then get me out of here.” Yarrow crept out of the alcove and stood by him. He reached out to take Bristel’s hand, but that was not allowed. Bristel rigidly stepped away, and he thought he saw hurt flicker in Yarrow’s eyes. Good. Part of Bristel was still unsure about following him at all, but his options were limited. He could stay in the alcove and die, or he could follow Yarrow and probably die. Before he could fully weigh his options, Yarrow pushed past him and beckoned him along. “I’ll take you to a tunnel that will lead you straight to the opening of the ravine,” Yarrow whispered. “All you have to do is keep moving forward. I’ll lead them off your trail. Once you’re out, stick to the shadows. It’s still dark.” “My lord?” another voice said. The guard. She was far closer around the corner of the tunnel than anticipated. She stared at them, eyes wide. Her scowl fixed on Bristel, and the tunnel began to tremble from her earthen magic. “I don’t know what trickery you’ve fooled him with,” she spat at Bristel, “but you can be sure you’ll stay in that cell until you rot!” She threw her hands out and chanted. Roots sprang from the walls, floor, and ceiling. Yarrow blocked Bristel and unleashed his own magic. Purple light filled the tunnel, flames eating away at the enchanted roots. The guard stared in disbelief for a second before she drew in a deep breath and shouted behind her. “The creek boy is escaping! Yarrow has betrayed us!” Yarrow grabbed Bristel’s wrist and wrenched him along the tunnel, throwing a warning flame at the guard, who sprang against the wall to avoid getting singed. She continued screaming betrayal, turning the corner of another tunnel to get help. Bristel couldn’t have kept track of where they were going even if he tried. Yarrow led him down turn after turn. The flowers overhead changed color at each new stretch, until finally they emerged into a wide-open chamber. But it was not freedom. They were still underground, and it was too late. A dozen guards were already darting out of other archways and closing in on them. Before Bristel knew it, someone came from behind, and he was wrenched away from Yarrow, who sent out flame after flame, only to have each one extinguished by the water affinity guards. “Stop!” Yarrow shouted. “Leave him alone!” As they were both subdued, Bristel met Yarrow’s gaze desperately. It took several minutes for the purple flames to give up igniting. There was no way they could take down a team of guards on their own. Bristel knew it was pointless to fight as they were taken into another chamber—a spacious room with a dais at the front. It didn’t take long for the ruling families of the village to gather there, along with commoners looking on from near the walls. Bristel and Yarrow were positioned apart from each other, both of them flanked by guards. Wren was the last one to join the royals on the dais. Judging by the look on her face, she had already been explained what happened. “Yarrow.” Her voice carried over the murmurs around the room, silencing them. The coldness in her tone was undermined by desperation. “Tell me what they’re saying isn’t true. Tell me this… this parasite forced you to free him. Tell me you’re not a traitor.” “I’d tell you to put truth glamour on me, but I’ll save you time,” Yarrow snapped. “He didn’t force me to do a thing.” “He is a traitor,” Ivar said, turning his glare to Wren. “I pray such treachery does not run in your blood.” Wren paled. She struggled for words, looking between the other royals and Yarrow. “I’m not a traitor,” she said finally. “Nor our two younger brothers. I confess this to you to show my loyalty: Yarrow told me himself he had grown a soft spot for the parasite. He has fallen in love.” A buzz ran through the gathered villagers. Bristel could feel their disgusted scowls upon them both. He shivered where he stood and stared at the floor, the word love pounding through his head. Ivar’s voice cut through the murmur. “And what do you say to this, Yarrow?” “I refuse to a pawn any longer is what I say. Bristel had every right to attack me after what Wren and I have been doing to him.” Yarrow’s voice rose furiously. “Let him go, dammit.” But Wren wouldn’t hear it. The other royals were staring at her, waiting for her to make a just decision befitting such treachery. “Denounce him at once,” she begged Yarrow. “Both of you, denounce each other if you want even the slightest chance of making it through the night.” “Of course I don’t love him,” Yarrow said. “He’s just an unfortunate tool I’m sick of using.” The announcement might have hurt if Bristel believed it were true. When all eyes turned to him, he followed suit. “How could I possibly love him?” Bristel said. “He’s tricked me, used me.” “Very well,” Wren said quickly. “They have denounced each other. Take the prisoner back to his cell—have a guard there all hours of night and day while we deliberate on what to do with him. And Yarrow, you will come with me—” “This is insufficient,” Ivar interrupted, and other royals nodded grimly in agreement. “Yarrow was found helping the prisoner escape. He attacked the guards. He is lying.” “A truth enchantment, then?” Wren suggested. “No,” Ivar said coldly. “They are obviously lying to escape execution. Let us see for ourselves how desperate they are to live. A duel to the death. If Yarrow lives, all is forgiven. If the outsider lives, he is free to leave.” Bristel felt as though a knife had been twisted into his gut. There was a ringing in his ears. His guards turned him to face Yarrow, and in a matter of seconds, the two of them were alone in the middle of the room. In another life, they might have been closing the distance to dance together. Yarrow stared at him, his face unreadable. “Kill him, Yarrow!” one of the villagers shouted. All at once, there was a cacophony of voices screaming for Bristel’s blood. Yarrow’s wings twitched, and he began to step forward. Bristel flinched back and raised his hands, ready to retaliate against the fire that Yarrow would have no choice but to conjure. But instead, Yarrow merely reached for Bristel’s hand and placed it against his own chest. “Just make it quick,” Yarrow whispered. He threw a glance toward his sister, as though seeing her for the last time. “I know I deserve to suffer, but please. Just make it quick.” Bristel tried to pull away, choking on his own words. “What are you doing?” The voices began to quiet around the room as the scene unfolded. Yarrow fell to his knees and put Bristel’s hand on his forehead, shutting his eyes. “You can finally get away. From here, from the creek village. You can be free. I’ve brought you nothing but misery. Let me give you something nice for once.” Wrenching his hand back, Bristel could only stare. He barely knew Yarrow, but Yarrow knew him. Even the memories that had been hidden by glamour felt like they belonged to another person. But with each second that Yarrow impatiently awaited his death, Bristel felt like those solstice nights hadn’t been a complete lie. “I can’t do it either,” Bristel said. He turned to the rest of the room, eyes settling on the dais. “We refuse to duel!” “Bristel, no…” Yarrow shook his head. The low mutterings of the crowd settled into utter silence. It wasn’t a normal kind of silence. It was charged, ready to burst. Bristel thought they might start throwing their own deadly spells into the middle of the room at any moment. “Execution!” Ivar shouted. “Both of them!” “No!” Wren cried. Every eye turned to her. She stood in the middle of the dais, chest rising and falling with sobbing breaths. Slowly, she squared her shoulders. A golden aura gathered around her. “Yarrow is of my clan. The final judgement is mine.” She turned her anguished, furious gaze to the middle of the room as Bristel urged Yarrow to stand. “You are exiled. Take your parasite pet if he pleases you so. May you both suffer out there with no community, no family. If either of you are spotted in this territory, you will be killed on sight.” For an awful moment, Bristel thought the other royals might overrule her, but the fairies on the dais wavered for a moment, as if in a daze. They didn’t raise a word against her. As Wren stepped off the dais, she looked winded, as though she had just performed a great deal of magic. She exited the chamber without so much as a final glance at her brother, tears running down her face. The guards grabbed both Bristel and Yarrow, leading them toward an exit tunnel. Villagers hit the two of them with petty spells and insults on their way out of the chamber. Bristel flinched at first, but with every step toward freedom, his fear was replaced with clenched fists and an iron will. Starlight glimmered overhead. They were led out of the ravine. The guards, who might’ve known Yarrow all their lives, barely acknowledged him as they stepped back near the drop-off and watched to make sure that the exiled would not attempt to re-enter. Bristel and Yarrow began walking in silence, until the ravine was far behind them. “She saved us,” Bristel murmured finally. “She… she manipulated the other royals so they wouldn’t disagree with her. Didn’t she?” Yarrow’s stony expression didn’t change. “It was the least she could do.” Another beat of silence. “You shouldn’t have done that,” Bristel said as the shock wore off and the reality of their situation truly hit him. He hurried forward to step in Yarrow’s path, making him stop. “You had a life, rank, e-everything, Yarrow… Why would you do that?” Yarrow offered a crooked smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know why.” “You… you did it for me?” “For us.” Yarrow stepped around Bristel and took off walking again. Bristel rushed to catch up. Somewhere along the way, Yarrow slipped his hand into Bristel’s. Somewhere farther along the way, Bristel stopped minding it was there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TWO YEARS LATER

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been about a week since the last resting ground. According to the directions given by the nomadic fairies, the next resting ground would be coming up soon—not soon enough, in Yarrow’s opinion. He was ready for some actual provisions and hopefully a bed. It was their third winter as nomads, and still Yarrow wasn’t used to throwing together makeshift shelters. “Is that it?” Bristel asked. Yarrow flew a little higher to see past the thick pine branches around them. He followed where Bristel was pointing and spotted some huge human machinery near the wide river. The yard was abandoned and rusty. By the look of it, the forest was taking over the edge of it. Occasionally, a car could be heard passing on the road nearby, but other than that, the place seemed devoid of humans. Just as the other fairies described. “It must be,” Yarrow said, breathing a sigh of relief. He tried not to complain too much. Bristel was quick to tease him about missing the comforts of being a royal. As they flew closer to the abandoned machinery yard, Bristel hesitated. “Did they have to put the resting ground so close to all this human… stuff?” “It has to be safe,” Yarrow said dismissively. “It doesn’t look like humans have touched any of that stuff in years.” They split up briefly to search the trees near the edge of the concrete. Within a few minutes, Bristel called Yarrow over to show him he had found exactly what they were looking for: a series of runes etched onto the bark of a barren oak tree that signaled this place was a haven for nomadic fairies. “Can you sense any glamour around? I can’t.” Bristel turned in a wary circle, running a hand through his lavender hair. “It could be abandoned. You’d think they’d wrap this place up tight with enchantments since it’s so close to the road.” “Are you suggesting we keep flying until the next resting ground?” Yarrow asked. Bristel shivered from the cold, clearly hating the idea. Yarrow smirked and flew closer, chanting an incantation to conjure warmth around them both. “I don’t think you’d do well out there for much longer. For an ice fairy, you’re awfully whiny about the cold.” In an instant, Bristel sent a flurry of snow from the ground at Yarrow. “Hey!” Yarrow intensified the heat wave around him in an attempt to melt the snow before it could hit him. For his troubles, he ended up getting sprayed with melted slush. “You seem to forget that it's a very bad idea to tease me when there’s snow around,” Bristel said, calling forth more snow with a wave of his hand. They both grinned breathlessly as they fired spell after harmless spell, weaving around the winter-bitten vegetation and trees to chase after each other. The sun still shone somewhere behind the gray sky; they had plenty of time before it got dark and they needed to get serious about shelter. However, their game was cut short when the sound of an engine approached. Yarrow whirled around, eyes darting between the trees until he spotted a car pulling right up to where the forest met the machine yard. He and Bristel were out in the open, and though they were a good distance away from the car, he got the sick feeling in his stomach that they could have been spotted. Cursing, Yarrow pulled Bristel up to the nearest branches. They wouldn’t have much cover with the trees in this grove being bare, but it was better than nothing. He made sure they were on the opposite side of the car. His heart seemed to skip a beat when the door opened and then slammed shut. Several minutes passed while Yarrow muttered to Bristel potential plans of how to get away undetected. Although there were no footsteps crunching through the snow, it didn’t sound like the human had left, either. The next sound was not footsteps or the car door opening, but the fluttering of fairy wings. “Hello?” Another fairy appeared around the side of the tree, landing on the adjacent branch. Her dark blue hair was ratty. Her eyes were wide, scared. “Are you hiding, too?” Though startled by her sudden presence, Yarrow nodded. “The human…” “I know. I’ve been here a couple days, and he’s been around quite a few times. I don’t know if he knows this is a fairy ground, but I do know that there’s a safer place for us to lay low.” She paused, then offered a weak smile. “I’m Ariella.” “Yarrow. And this is Bristel.” “A pleasure.” She looked back over her shoulder, then beckoned. “Follow me.” When she took off, Bristel grabbed Yarrow’s shoulder to stop him. “I don’t like this,” Bristel whispered. “Something feels off, don’t you think?” Yarrow felt a tug of guilt. Ever since they had become nomadic, Bristel had been overly tentative around every fairy they met at resting rounds, as though they might be hiding an ulterior motive. Yarrow knew it was his own fault Bristel had lost his ability to put faith in others. “We can’t stay here,” Yarrow muttered back. “She obviously knows this place better than us. Besides, if she was the swindling type, this wouldn’t exactly be the time for it. She doesn’t want to be seen any more than we do. Now come on.” Reluctantly, Bristel took his hand and followed. Ariella took them to a large tree than gestured at the hollow. “It runs deep,” she said, hurrying them in front. “Watch your step—it slopes down pretty quick.” Bristel hesitated again, but Yarrow didn’t have time to argue with him. They were low enough to the ground that the human could easily spot them. Yarrow gave Bristel’s hand an encouraging squeeze and urged him to go in first. Bristel relaxed somewhat and headed through the opening. No sooner than they took two steps inside, Yarrow was shoved sharply in the back. He lost his balance and fell forward against Bristel. The two of them tumbled to the bottom of the hollow and fell in a heap. Metal clanged around them. Yarrow threw himself over Bristel, expecting something to crash down on them, but once the sound finished reverberating in the air, there was silence. The ground beneath them was cold and smooth. Yarrow scrambled off Bristel and charged viciously after Ariella, but he ran into metal bars. He bounced back, gasping out an incantation. He tried to ignite magic, but it was no use. It made him think of the glamour that had been used on Bristel’s cell a lifetime ago. Except it was not magic that was preventing his flames. Iron. “I’m so sorry,” Ariella whimpered. She stood on the other side of the bars, wringing her hands and trembling in the shadows. “He saw you. I had no choice.” “Who saw us?” Yarrow demanded. She looked away and wiped her tears. “I’m sorry.” A steady sound broke the silence outside. “Yarrow,” Bristel whispered, coming up from behind and seizing his arm. “Do you hear that?” He did. Human footsteps were crunching through the snow, heading straight for them.

[alexben10blog]

Chapter 2

Ben wake up with the sound of the alarm, shut-in down at one blow almost automatic. He gives a big yawn before huddle in his bed. “I don´t want go to the school.”

―Wake up, we have thing to do. ― The punch in his head shake him up, moving around to finish find the reason of his pain. Azmuth was on his bedside table looking him with his arms crossed behind his back. The memories of yesterday arrived suddenly.

― And I thought that everything was a dream. ―  

―You are not so lucky. ―

― Yes, I noticed. ― Ben get up of his bed and do his normal morning routine looking his desk, it was already electronic pieces of different devices and someone of them already assemble. In middle of all this it was a one who will recognize in any place.

It gave a sound of indignation to the frog who is given the back in favor the invention in building. Ben was about to claim him if it was not interrupted for his mom down stairs.

―Ben! Honey, Are you alright? ― Ben saw with anger Azmuth, and his bet his money It was a little smile of satisfaction in his frog face.

―Nothing mom! I just saw a big, fat and ugly insect! ― His scream back, Ben get close to Azmuth both of them with a sharp look and all the intention to start a fight.  ― What the heck you do to my videogame? ―

― I needed to build my communicator, you know the thing you said you will help me. ― Ben it was almost sure that Azmuth don´t need his videogame to build his dumb communicator, but he had told him that he would help and his not had any prove that Azmuth just did it to annoy him so he just closed his mouth.

Azmuth it was sure to don´t need the silly device, but this was a lesson to the arrogant kid about no lying and respect their elders. Ben give him a last angry look before to grab his backpack and give to Azmuth a sign to enter in.

Ben went down the stair carefully. He was annoying, but Azmuth still hurt and he was not that mean. He continues with his morning routine, saving food for Azmuth before his dad left in front to the school. Saying goodbye with a hug, wait until don´t see him to get away for the school, been stopped for a pain in his nape.  

―What you think you are doing? ― Almost have to turn his head 180 grades just for see Azmuth peek out of his backpack and still even so it distinguishes his frown.

―Get out of here, you said we have a lot to do. ―

―You have to go the school; the education is important. Silly kid. ―

―Great, a nerd alien. ― He pulled out another howl before to feel a heavy hand in his shoulder. Nervous notice the professor who look him with a raised eyebrow pointing to the entry to the school.

Ben enter with the head down whisper rudeness to Azmuth. Getting another punch.

―Stop doing that! ― Half whisper, half scream. Someone been pushed to the lockers it distracts him for his angry to Azmuth. Ben watching how DJ and Crash they were attacking another of them victims. Ben knowing him, it was Jeremy a very applied kid for his class.

Both bullies robbed his homework before to winnow his thing over the place. Ben just stand up without doing anything. Disappointed with himself go to help the kid with grapping his stuffs.

―Thanks Ben. ―

―It was nothing. ― “Really it was nothing”. Azmuth in the backpack notice the sound of regrets in his voice. ―I´m sorry that your homework was stolen. ―

―Don´t worried. I have a plan B if this happened, what is basic all the time.  ― Ben cringed with more shame, tried to hide with a smile and a thumps up.

The classes passed normal, meanwhile Azmuth took mental notes of how defective the educative system have the humans. At times he feels the need to get outside to explain well to the children whom received an incomplete education. But he had a great control of himself and stay in the bag of Ben making calculations for his communicator.

In a point the curiosity of Azmuth it was more and decide to look what Ben are doing, discreetly watching in his work. There was in math class, where the teacher was given them some leaves with problems to solve, so primitive in comparison of exercises applied to inventions and real problems. Azmuth was pleased, in a purely educational way, seeing that Ben solved the exercise before much of his classmates.

Ben finish his math problems, the true is wasn´t too hard. The bullies of his class threw balls of paper at his partner who already delivered his resolute sheet. They returned it with some notes to correct, but even so it had been the first to deliver it. With that he earned the mockery of them in addition to the nickname "nerd".

Be a “nerd” it was something to make fun, everybody mock to a nerd. Smart children that stood out are the worst, that is way they made fun of them that what Ben think. Whit a grin Ben took the eraser to change his answers. He stopped when he felt a tug of hair causing him to scream.

―Mister Tennyson, there is problem? ―

―None one, teacher. ―

― So, I do not think you cares to show us your work. ― Ben stuttering an answer attempt, causing the teacher to grab the answer sheet with impatience. She read each one of them changing his frown to an almost satisfying gesture. ―Good job, mister Tennyson. I hope continues like this. ―

Ben felt his cheeks burn as they have the attention of everyone, behind him heard they called him "nerd" with mockery. This was the worst.

.

.

.

Ben hurried up to get out of school making sure no one is falling him. He was furious, who thought that Azmuth was to do that to him? Arrived at the garbage bin and without care drop his bag. Azmuth let go out a groan and almost he regretted, but shake the feeling remembering what the little one made him it happens.

―What is wrong with you? Why you pull my hair? ― Azmuth saw him incredulous, almost with an indignant anger that made Ben step back.

―Better answer me, to understand you irrational thinking. Why you will change your right answers to wrong answers? ―

―And why you care? It is my education! ―

—Yes, and it sad to see how you ruin just for a few words ― Azmuth start to travel to the place searching piece could help him, leaving alone Ben to let him go all the furious noise he wants. He had get away to Ben, that kid is simply frustrating.

―OK, I don´t have idea how is in you frog planet, but here in earth thing make you different are bad. Do you hear me? ¡Bad! They can get to hurt you physically in the worst case. ― Azmuth stopped while ponder the word of Ben.

In Galvan Prime the intelligence it was the resource most valued of all, what Ben did is not just would look bad, it would be an insult for all galvans. But he is right, the earth it´s different. Front what he saw brute force it was the important while the intelligence it´s something to mockery, which he considers truly outrageous.

Ben sit in the ground making draws with his finger. It was not upset anymore, just dismal. It was not his fault understand faster than others but if he showed, it was a ticket to punch city and he not going to go there, that they made fun of him by calling a freak it was enough.

Azmuth want prove his point of view make him understand is not bad be clever, take away that nasty thought been different or more smart that the others it was equal of wounds. Again, to comfort it was not an area in which had a specialization and never got to comfort him. The sound of propellers distracted him, apparently unwanted company arrived.

―Benjamin! ―Ben, who it was up for the sound, catch the metal wristbands that Azmuth threw. ― This gone a help you. ― Ben put them on and instantly a small trigger went out in each one.

Five robots came with the guns pointing directly to Azmuth, apparently now they do not come by the omnitrix. Ben throw himself to Azmuth protective without thinking about it rolling over his back to put him save. Then he points with the wristbands to the robot shooting up a thunderbolt who destroyed his metal head.

―This think is great! ―

―Focus! ― Ben barely managed to dodge one of his attacks before counterattacking. "I have to be careful."  

Azmuth clung tightly to Ben's shoulder to keep from falling as he ran through the dumpster dodging each attack. In front of him saw a column of crushed cars, in his mind already formed a plan to get rider of the robots. He strives in anticipating them pass the column and shoot the base collapsing aver two of the androids.

Now only left two.  Ben smiled skid under of the rubble, one of them following him closely while the other disappeared from his sight. He continued to launch unsuccessful attacks to give his pursuer while his movements became increasingly clumsy and fatigue was reaching him.

― Watch out! ― Azmuth scream point in front of him the autonomous. Ben crouched down with his back to the ground, both robots stood in front of him who without hesitation shot with both wrist guards both robbing them to then roll out of the rubble that fell.

With agitated breathing he was recovering little by little almost unbelieve for what he had achieved. Azmuth descended from his shoulder to look for the robotic parts that could be used, but that doesn´t matter to Ben who start to laugh rising suddenly, adrenalin yet running for his veins.

― Did you see what I did?  It was amazing! First, I was scared and then Pow! Pow! I managed to destroy them! ― He continued his laughter until his stomach hurt.

―Not so bad of a nerd, uh? ― Azmuth give him the back but the sound of his voice just can describe like vanity. Ben smile shrugging his shoulders.

―Maybe you are one of the cool nerds, maybe. ―

―I was talking about you. ― Ben look him without knowing what he meant. ― You are a quick thinker, making a plan in seconds and pull in action effectively. You know when to wait and when to act, without forgetting the fact of being able to solve problems mathematically and not only practical. It's a pity that you put so much effort into destroying yourself so that you see it. ―

Ben lowered his head with an embarrassed flush adorning his cheeks. Azmuth gave him more credit than he deserved, even though he was right to the fact he is boycotting himself. But he does not want be hurt and made fun of him. Somehow that did not sound like a good excuse anymore.

―I already recollect enough material; the best thing is leave before they send more robots. ― Ben nodded before picking up the pieces, putting them in his backpack, and at Azmuth.

― How you can build two laser wrist bands in one night, but no a communicator? ―

—You want to build the intergalactic communicator with the primitive device of your race? Just remember to not getting electrocuted in the wiring, calibrate the reaching beyond the galaxies program it to be direct to a single person and not filtered to secondary people. But if you're sure it's that easy, come on, be my guest. ―

―No, I will pass. ―  Ben smiled nervously. Azmuth rolled her eyes, something that was doing a lot around this child.

.

.

.

Another day and Ben is back to school, after yesterday he was not going to try to skip classes with Azmuth in his backpack. The whole day was normal until the last math class where the teacher gave them another math problem sheet to solve.

Took the paper and start to answer one by one. When he finishes gave it to the teacher, behind him saw like some are making fun of him for be the first one in finish. Most of them believe is all wrong. The teacher smile before give him back the paper with a ten score.

―Good job, mister Tennyson. ― Ben nod and then go back to sit in his place. Some ignored it, others saw it with disbeliefs, some made fun of it and there were those who said that it cheated. He cringed in his seat, sticking his head in the back of his seat with some dejection.

 He felt on the nape of his neck something caressing her hair. Ben relaxed to feel the slight gesture of recognition and approval, he should not care what people say. Because he does this for himself, because he's a cool nerd.

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

Hi guys. As all tumblr know it is very difficult to follow a fanfic here (experience first of all) so I leave a link to follow it easier.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13326605/1/Ben-G-10-English-Ver

[btsiguess]

Womyn with a ‘Y’ (m) - 2

Summary: You weren’t quite sure how you ended up working with the aloof Yoonji on your student council campaign, but you did know that that girl was starting to make you question yourself. I mean, if she’s even a girl at all… 

Pairing: Yoonji/Reader Yoongi/Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 3010

Warnings (if applicable): None yet

A/N: I’m finally back with some more Yoonji GARBAGE. Thanks for reading ;)

Chapters: 1 2 3

“You’re a fucking liar! She did not!” You were back on the phone with Soonmi. This time you were glad though, relaying the details of this conversation would have been so much more embarrassing if you didn’t have a phone to hide behind.

Soonmi couldn’t tell how red you were, and you felt honestly blessed because of it.

“I’m not lying, that’s really what happened!”

“Do you think she’s gay?” Soonmi asks, and you’re caught off guard.

“Oh… I never thought about it, I guess? I’m not sure if she’s gay.” You puzzle.

“I mean, that would make a lot of things make sense…” Soonmi continues, “she basically hates Jimin, she’s super antisocial, she doesn’t wear makeup, her fingernails are super short! Plus, she calls you cute and also sometimes I guess she pins you to your fucking bed.”

You giggle quietly into your palm, embarrassed.

“Soonmi, just about all of those things are really stereotypical representations of being gay! Actually, most of them don’t even make sense. So stop! Even if she is gay it doesn’t matter.”

“I know, I know… but I don’t know, maybe she likes you! I understand that if she was gay it wouldn’t necessarily mean she liked you, but! I mean look at you! The only person I know who wouldn’t eat you out is Jimin, and that’s because he has some weird loyalty boner for Yoonji. Oh my god imagine him finding out she likes you!” Soonmi rambled.

“She doesn’t! Besides, I don’t even like girls that way.” You shrug.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve at least tried it.” Soonmi pouts. “One time a girl fingered me at summer camp - completely consensual, of course - and I came so hard I passed out!”

You’re sure your cheeks have gone an even darker shade of red than before.

“Plus like, it’s not like you have to only choose one. Sexuality is fluid or something. I don’t really care that much. All I’m saying is don’t block off the idea completely. I mean, oh my god? Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with! But I’m just saying that you two would be the ultimate power couple, and I’d definitely masturbate to the thought of you fucking.”

Soonmi’s explicit description has you guffawing in an uncharacteristic way.

“Okay, okay.” You relent. “I won’t close myself off to the idea. Thank you for the advice. She says she’s coming over again tomorrow, so I’ll obviously tell you how that goes. Oh! Before I forget, tomorrow, during the morning announcements--”

***

The entire school had screamed when you and Yoonji announced you were running together. You have to admit, it was a little bit glorious to have this much attention directed your way.

At lunch, Yoonji had made an effort to wave to you before shuffling back to wherever it was she was going, and the people around looked as if they’d seen some sort of miracle. Yoonji texted you just before the bell rang, instructing you to wait by the school’s gate so the two of you could head to your house together; and it’s there, waiting with baited breath, that Jimin found you.

“Hey!” He says cheerfully, “I heard about you running with Yoonji! That’s super cool!”

You smile politely at him.

“May the best duo win!” He quips, but the look on his face is one of genuine happiness and excitement.

He is a nice boy, Jimin. You sort of wonder why Yoonji doesn’t like him.

Speak of the devil, Yoonji appears before you as you’re looking up at Jimin. She blocks your view of the slightly shorter boy behind her.

“Come on, let’s go.” Yoonji says, grasping you by the hand and pulling you along behind her without a word to Jimin.

You stumble along quickly, but you do turn to wave at the boy you’d been forced to leave behind.

His eyes, which had looked crestfallen at Yoonji’s blatant disregard, seem to lighten up a bit at your enthusiastic wave. He puts his hand up too, and waves slowly back, a smile starting to stretch along his face.

Yoonji tugs you a bit faster.

“Come on, don’t waste time on that moron.”

You cast one last look at the boy, but ultimately, follow Yoonji’s command. You don’t want to make her upset. Nothing that would risk your election. Still though, you wonder why she hates Jimin, or seems to hate Jimin, as much as she does. He really isn’t so bad. A little forward, perhaps, but he was never inappropriate like some of the other boys were. You figure Yoonji has her reasons, and you aren’t about to go judging her when you don’t have all the facts.

You quietly contemplate this until Yoonji is dragging you through your front door. You are momentarily surprised that she remembered the way, but it doesn’t last very long. Your parents aren’t home yet, and so Yoonji doesn’t bother to act more proper in the house (although, in all honesty, you aren’t sure if your parents being home really made a difference on that either way.) She tugs you all the way into your room, and then lets you go, motioning to the bed in an instruction to sit.

Again, you do as you’re told, and when you face her again, she’s gazing at you with her hands on her thin hips.

“I can literally hear the gears turning in your head. What is it?” She asks.

“N-Nothing.” You say, and Yoonji just stares.

“I guess,” you force out, “I was wondering why you are so mean to Jimin… I mean! Not that it’s any of my business. I was just curious.”

“You’re right. It’s none of your business.” She says curtly, and you think you feel your heart drop down into your toes.

Your expression must have shown how disheartened you were because Yoonji sighs heavily.

“Hey. Don’t be like that, brat. I just… Jimin. He won’t take no for an answer. I want him to leave me alone, but he thinks I’m playing coy or something. Do I look like that’s something I would do? No.” She huffs and flops on your bed. You’d consider it unladylike if it weren’t for the great amount of care she took making sure her skirt and blouse stayed in their rightful places.

“I never really thought of it that way.” You mumble.

“No one ever does.” She turns on her side so she’s facing you. Your positions force her to look up at you, and while you’re momentarily caught off guard by the shift in metaphoric power, you’re also helpless to notice her beauty. Your heart skips a beat as you look down at her, and you can’t help but think of what Soonmi had told you last night over the phone.

“I-Is he just not your type?” You ask, in an attempt to break the moment.

Yoonji chuckles lowly in response. “No, he’s definitely not my type.”

“O-Oh. What is your type then?” You ask. You hope it comes off as nonchalant. Why were you even getting confused anyway? This was all Soonmi’s fault. She was definitely going to get a bitching out from you later.

Yoonji eyes you carefully, her gaze flitting  over each part of your face as if to search for something within it.

“I like… people who are more feminine, usually.” She says, finally.

“More feminine than Jimin?!” You blurt out. “Is that even possible?”

Yoonji chuckles at your outburst before fixing you with a stare.

“It is… I mean, women are much more feminine than Jimin, don’t you think?”

Your mouth goes a bit dry.

“Oh.” You say quietly.

Yoonji sits up now, facing you.

“Is that okay? That I like women?” She asks. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

You shake your head, your eyes falling down to the pattern in your soft blanket. You bite down on your lower lip, trying to figure out what to say. Of course you don’t care that Yoonji is gay. Or… maybe you did care? Not that it was a bad thing though, regardless.

Her finger catches your chin, and you’re forced to look at her.

“You know I would never do anything to you right? Just because I like girls it doesn’t mean I’d do anything to you.” She says it softly and your heart falls again. You’re not quite sure why, though. Yoonji was being uncharacteristically sweet, and even with your chest heavy, you can’t help but focus on the fingertip tilting your chin up.

“Are you going to say something?” She asks.

“There’s nothing wrong with being gay.” You say finally.

“I’m bisexual, actually.” She responds, letting your chin drop and shifting to lean back on her arms.

“There’s nothing wrong with that either.”

“Well I’m glad you know that. I don’t think many kids at school would be happy if they knew.” She sighs. “Anyway, though. I told you about me. What about you?”

“What about me?” You shoot back. “Are you asking if I’m gay?”

“Sure.” Yoonji really had a way with words.

“I’m…” You consider yourself for a moment. “I don’t know. I’ve only ever slept with one person, and it was a boy. But I know that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Was he good?” Yoonji probes.

“Oh my god! Yoonji!” You blush, and turn to bury your face in your pillows.

“Come on, aren’t we friends?” She teases, and your heartbeat speeds up at the word. “I just want to know if that boy was treating you right!”

She attempts to tug your red face out of your pillows, but the plan backfires. You’ll be darned if you have to answer this question while looking at her. You use her own strength against her, clinging to her wrist for a moment longer than she expected. The outcome is your face suddenly being buried in her shoulder. Still hidden from her curious gaze.

It’s the closest you’ve ever been, sitting side by side, your head pressed against her neck, and while Yoonji is surprised, she doesn’t push you away. You figure she’s just grateful you didn’t ditch her as soon as you found out she was bi.

“He was terrible.” You whisper, “in bed I mean. So bad.”

“Really? How come?” You feel her chuckle slightly.

“Oh my god. I’ll tell you but you can’t tell anyone. Even Soonmi doesn’t know.”

“Who would I tell?” She reassures you.

“Okay… Jihoon… He never made me, you know… finish…”

“What?!” She cries, pulling your face from her shoulder. “He never made you cum?!”

You shush her, hoping to quell your own embarrassment in the process.

“How is that even possible?” Yoonji virtually cries. “It’s so easy to get a girl to cum? You just stop being selfish for two seconds? Was he just really bad at eating you out or something?”

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish a few times, until realization dawns on Yoonji’s face.

“Holy fuck, he never ate you out?!” She seems scandalized by the entire premise. “He had you and he never ate you out?! Who does he think he is? DJ Khaled?!”

You shook your head, bringing your hands up to your cheeks to try and cool them down.

“So… you’ve never been eaten out then?” She asks. So much for trying to get rid of your blush.

“Yoonji!” You whine. “Stop, it’s embarrassing.”

“Fine, fine.” She relents. “Well… If you’re ever desperate for it, just ask me. I’ll make sure to do it right.” She flops down on her back and smiles cheekily at you to let you know that she was joking. She sticks out her tongue and wiggles it playfully at you.

And it’s like the floodgates open.

It’s not like you hadn’t thought about women sexually before. I mean, everyone does a little bit, right? But suddenly, it wasn’t nameless women in porn videos or dirty magazines. It was Yoonji. Living, breathing, right-there-in-front-of-you Yoonji. You imagined what it would be like to kiss her, to touch her. To be touched by her. And you were suddenly stuck in the deep end, unsure how you got here in the first place.

“Hey.” Yoonji interrupts your fantasy. “You all good?”

“Y-Yeah. S-Sorry. Let’s, uh, work on this student council stuff.”

***

This girl is going to be the death of him, he’s sure. She’s so easy to read, it’s fucking maddening. He can tell as soon as he says it that she’s thinking about it. Thinking about him between her thighs and pleasuring her the way literally no one has before.

Yoongi is trying to keep his cool, but it’s hard. He’s hard.

It can’t be healthy to get hard this often over one girl. But here he is, dressed in a fucking skirt, sitting on the girls fucking bed, at half mast. He’s lucky she’s one of those girls who keeps way too many pillows around. And he’s lucky that it’s inconspicuous for him to hold one in his lap. Everyone thinking he’s a girl had to have some perks, right?

Yoongi can’t fucking believe that no one’s been between your legs before. He knows he’s pretty new to the whole knowing you thing, but even with that in mind he’s sure he wouldn’t mind living and dying with his face shoved in your pussy. If you took him up on his offer right now, he would absolutely die a happy man.

It’s difficult to focus on this campaign when he’s too busy wishing he was fucking you. He does want to win though. That hasn’t changed. He wants to see Jimin go down. Especially after he caught him talking to you this afternoon. Jimin’s eyes were a little too bright when he looked at you, and Yoongi can’t say he’s a fan of the idea. Jimin is handsome, Yoongi can admit it, and the thought of that brat trying to get into your pants made his fuckin’ blood boil.

“Y-Yoonji?” You stutter, pulling the boy away from his internal fuming.

“What.” He snaps a little too crossly, and you flinch.

Oh shit.

“Just, you weren’t really listening.”

“Sorry princess.” The pet name rolls off his tongue, and he internally delights in the way your cheeks visibly redden at his words. “Something is just on my mind.”

“Oh! What is it?” You say, all too innocently. Of course Yoongi knows that you have no way of knowing what’s going on inside his filthy brain, but the way your eyes widen in interest makes his mind run rampant with even more lewd suggestions.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” He settles on telling you.

“Yoonji—” You pout, clinging to his arm, “you said we were friends! Tell me, woman to woman, I’ll keep your secret safe.”

You hold out your pinky to him, a sign of your promise, and he begrudgingly wraps his own around yours. You’re far too cute for your own good.

“I was just thinking that Jimin was getting a little too close to you today.” He admits, and you cock your head to the side.

“What do you mean?” You question.

“I mean, I think he’s going to start flirting with you soon. The way he was talking to you reminded me of how he acted with me when I first moved here.” It’s almost surprising to Yoongi, how easy it is to let his actual thoughts roll off his tongue. He’s always been a bit of a solitary boy, even more so when playing a girl. Of course he’d had acquaintances before, but none that he actually cared about talking to like he did you. He blames his hormones.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so.” You dismiss easily, and Yoongi is tempted to roll his eyes. “Everyone at school knows that Jimin only has the hots for you, Yoonji! He couldn’t like me.”

There’s no room for argument in your tone. But that’s never stopped Yoongi before, and it won’t stop him now.

“I just think that maybe he’ll finally come around and like someone else.” He says, a bit harshly. “You didn’t see the way he was looking at you.”

“Yoonji, he seriously wasn’t! He’s so into you!”

You’re too blind for your own goddamn good.

“Anyway,” you continue, “What does it even matter if Jimin starts to like me? He doesn’t! I’m just saying, for arguments sake, what would it matter if he did? Would you be jealous that I’m taking your man away?”

The way you ask it is so innocent, that Yoongi can’t be mad. Your stupid doe eyes bore into his own in wait of a response and he’s momentarily paralyzed with something he can’t define. If you were literally anyone else he’d be tearing into you for even suggesting that he might be into Jimin. But with you it’s just… so fucking cute. You’re too oblivious. Yoongi isn’t sure how you’ve managed to survive this long.

“I’m jealous, but not of you taking my man.” Yoongi admits.

“What do you mean?” You’re just full of questions. Yoongi says nothing, simply glancing down at the list of tasks you’d been working on before this conversation even happened. This ridiculous conversation.

If you’re annoyed by his sudden disregard of your question, you don’t show it. Instead, you simply scooch over and begin to explain in detail the bullets on your list. Yoongi is listening properly this time, as you rant about school policies that you want to change and budget shifts you want to propose, but even as you speak, his eyes are drawn to the animated way in which you talk with your hands. Your dainty fingers flailing wildly as you get particularly excited about the idea you’ve come up with for the music department’s budget. His eyes also trail down to your lips, watching the way they curve over each word you speak so gently, as if you thought you’d break the air if you spoke with any more force. It’s ridiculous. You were ridiculous. 

And Yoongi is ridiculous for wanting you.

A/N: Ha, I finally got it out! I hope you like it?

[karmicmayhem]

Rooftop friendships

Words: 8519

Summary:  Patton and Virgil meet and Patton stops him from doing something rash. A beautiful friendship is born. 

warnings: abuse mentions, suicide mentions (no one dies)

Read on ao3 here

Read part 2 here

——-

Virgil made his way up to the roof of the university with only one goal in mind. He couldn’t take it anymore. Everything was just too much. Things at home were as horrible as ever, and he was constantly getting pushed around and insulted for his clothing choices and his mocked for his occasional panic attacks. He’d had enough. He couldn’t keep going like this. It wasn’t like there was anything to live for, anyway.

He was going to jump.

His college had a small sitting area on the roof of this building so that the students could view the trees and the small lake a short distance away clearly. Virgil squinted against the glare of the sun as he walked forward. Step by determined step, he made his way to the railing and stared out at the trees.

He clenched his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking down at the ground. A six story drop. That should be enough for what he had planned.

“Hello!”

Virgil jumped back from the railing as a chipper voice spoke up from the opposite edge of the roof. He turned to look at the speaker. Sitting there was a guy with a light blue shirt and chestnut brown hair. Smiling eyes sparkled up at him from behind thick black frames. He hadn’t noticed him sitting there at all. That’s what he gets for being too focused on something, he guessed.

“Would you like some candy?”

Virgil blinked in surprise at the question. “Would I… what?”

The smiling male held up a chocolate bar and a bag of other assorted sweets. “I wanted to know if you want some? I kinda have too much for just me to eat, you know?”

“Uh,” Virgil said, drawing his eyebrows together, “no thanks. I think I should just go-”

“Please?” The other cut in. “It looks like you need something sweet, Kiddo.”

Virgil frowned, but made his way over to the other all the same. “Why ���Kiddo’? Aren’t we about the same age? Also… who are you?”

“Oh, I’m Patton!” he replied, looking happy about getting the other to agree. “And I just tend to call everyone Kiddo. Hope you don’t mind?”

Virgil huffed lightly. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’m Virgil, by the way.” With that, he sat down next to Patton.

Patton beamed at him. “Well it’s wonderful to meet you Virgil! Now, caramel or toffee?”

Virgil thought for a moment. “Uh, caramel.” he replied. He took the small pack of chocolate covered caramel pieces the other handed him. He took one out and popped it into his mouth as he observed the other. What kind of person just invited a stranger to come and share desserts with them?

He watched as Patton happily chomped down a piece of a toffee and chocolate bar, humming some unknown tune under his breath. This guy seemed to be radiating sunshine.

“So what are you doing up here?” Virgil finally asked.

A strange look crossed Patton’s face before it smoothed out once more into a smile. “I like the view up here.” he replied. “It’s really peaceful.”

“Oh.”

Patton smiled at him carefully. “Mind if I ask why you’re up here, Kiddo?”

Virgil shifted in his spot. Should he tell him? He barely knew the guy but he seemed… oddly trustworthy. Well, it’s not like anything really mattered anymore anyway.

“Guess.” he said after a few more moments of deliberation.

“Well,” Started Patton cautiously, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but you were looking at the ground pretty hard earlier, and you looked kinda sad. Were you…?”

Virgil ran a hand through his hair as the other’s question trailed off. “Yeah.” he muttered quietly, not looking at the other, instead staring down at his shoes.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Virgil sighed blinked against the pressure building up behind his eyes. “I don’t know, things just suck. Everything is just… bad, and I just don’t want to keep dealing with it all. It’s not like anyone would miss me, anyway.” He tugged uselessly at his jacket sleeves as he spoke.

“I would.”

Virgil’s head snapped up at the forceful declaration from the other. There was a sudden fire burning Patton’s eyes. “Wha..?” he finally asked, still shocked.

“I would miss you if you died.” Patton said, clearly determined now. “I would notice. I promise, Virgil.” he reached one hand forward to cautiously rest on the sleeve of Virgil’s hoodie.

“Why would…” Virgil’s eyes began to water as he spoke, “Why? You don’t even know me.”

Patton smiled gently, tilting his head to look directly into Virgil’s eyes as a playful breeze ruffled through their hair. “You’re right, I don’t know you. But I’d like to.”

Virgil looked up as the clouds above them moved slowly, sunlight suddenly shining down and haloing the other in a warm golden light as he spoke. “If you’ll let me,” Patton continued, “I’d like to be your friend.”

Virgil blinked at the other’s tone. It felt like something in the air shifted, like a change in tides.

“You want to be my friend? Why?” Virgil sniffled slightly against his will and rubbed at his eyes. “Is it just because you pity me?” he asked bitterly.

Patton only smiled gently in return. “I don’t pity you at all, don’t worry. But I love making new friends! No matter who they are. Everyone is special and worthy of love and affection in my books, Kiddo. And that certainly includes you!” He extended his hand forward towards the other as he continued, “So, would you let me try and be the friend you deserve?”

Virgil looked at the proffered hand cautiously. “What… does being your friend entail?”

“Well,” Patton spoke, clearly considering it, “we can come up here and hang out and share food in our free time. And we can hang out at each other’s dorms when we’re out of class and talk.” He looked excited at the prospect for a moment before pausing and looking at the other sheepishly. “I mean… only if you want? I don’t want to force you-”

“That sounds… nice.” Virgil finally spoke up, his voice quiet and raspy from the tears he could no longer fully force down. What the hell, why not? No one had ever wanted to be his friend before, anyway. Maybe this was a chance to try something new. Maybe…

Maybe dying could wait for now.

“Awww, I’m so happy!” Patton cheered. A grin stretched across his face as he wrapped the other in a sudden bear hug. “Let’s go back to my dorm to celebrate! I’ll order pizza!” With that, the grinning male gently tugged Virgil behind him as he began to lead the way to his dorm.

Virgil looked back at the railing as he followed the other, a small smile tugging at his lips from Patton’s contagious joy.

A friend.

Who could have guessed?

————

Virgil watched Patton’s face for any sign of discomfort as he painted the other’s arm. A month had passed since their first meeting and while Virgil was less wary of Patton, he still didn’t want to somehow annoy him. He added the last finishing strokes to the scene and set his paintbrush into the stained jar of water on the table near him.

After giving it a critical once over he nodded at the other and released his hand. “Done.” he said.

Patton’s eyes lit up as he surveyed the painting now gracing most of his lower arm and traveling delicately onto some areas of his upper arm. It showed a colorful view of space, purples and blues blending in and out of dark black. Instead of stars however, there were glowing white flowers in their place with delicate white vines connecting them to form constellations.

“Oh my gosh, it’s so beautiful, Virge! I love it!” he beamed.

Virgil felt his face heat up at the praise. “It’s nothing. I’ve just got a lot of practice.”

“It’s not nothing.” Patton responded sternly. “It’s lovely is what it is.” he held his now-painted arm to his chest protectively. “You’re a really great artist, Kiddo.”

“Thanks, I guess.” Virgil said, offering the other an embarrassed but fond smile.

Patton grinned back. His eyes traveled carelessly over the other before something caught his attention. “Um, Kiddo?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you know that you’ve got a rip in your jacket there?” he gestured to the other’s sleeve.

Virgil blinked as he looked down at it. “Yeah, I noticed a while back. I just never bothered to fix it, cause I don’t know how to sew.” He frowned and rubbed the fabric delicately between his fingers. “Honestly… when we first met, this rip was what drove me over the edge that day. It seems really stupid now, but it was just the latest in a long line of awful shit that was happening to me just in that week alone.”

“And it pushed you to the breaking point.” Patton added, understanding overtaking his features before he nodded resolutely. “Well, if you’d like, I can fix it for you, Kiddo!”

Virgil’s eyes flicked up to meet his. “You know how to sew?” he asked.

Patton grinned back. “Yep! I had to learn how to fix clothes early on, cause I was a pretty clumsy kid. Always falling out of trees and down stairs and stuff. Thankfully it wasn’t too hard of a skill to pick up!” He smiled encouragingly at him. “If you want, I can teach you how to sew? It’s pretty calming, after all.”

“I’d like that.” Virgil replied with a growing small smile. “I need something to chill me out when my anxiety starts acting up, anyway.” He took his jacket off to give to the other. “…Thanks, Pat.”

Patton smiled at the other’s shy tone. “It’s no problem. I can teach you how to make friendship bracelets too! I’ve always wanted to make one for someone!” he cheered enthusiastically.

“I’ll make you one too, then.” Virgil replied fondly. “A bracelet is the least I could do, after all.”

“Now, Kiddo.” Patton started sternly, “You know you don’t owe me anything, right?”

Virgil only shrugged noncommittally in response. Patton shook his head and sighed. This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation, and it almost certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Oh, I have an idea!” Patton piped up. “I’ll teach you to sew and you can teach some basics of art? I’d love to learn to make things as lovely as you do.”

“What?” Virgil blushed at the compliment. “You want me to-? Pat, I’m really not that great of an artis-”

“I will physically fight you if you start talking badly about yourself.” Patton interrupted with a frown. “You’re an amazing artist, and I’d be honored to learn from you.”  

“Well…” Virgil started, biting his nail, “If you’re sure, then I guess that’d be okay.”

“Yay!” Patton exclaimed. He always wanted to learn art, and now he could finally get tips from someone who knew what they were doing. He was so excited!

Virgil smiled at the other’s exuberant joy. The ability to make someone as happy as Patton seemed to be when Virgil spent time with him still baffled him. The concept of someone even just being happy to see him was unheard of for him.

It was… nice.

He could get used to this.

———–

They were having their normal lunch meetup on top of the roof a few months later when something unexpected happened. The door to the roof was opened swiftly. Out walked an exhausted looking man wearing thick framed black glasses and a sherlock themed shirt.  

Virgil peered up at the intruder of their peaceful lunch, happy that they were sitting in Patton’s favorite spot today off to the side, so they weren’t noticed by the other.

“Who is that?” Virgil asked Patton quietly, careful to be quiet enough not to alert the stranger to their presence.

“That’s Logan.” Patton whispered back with a worried frown tugging at his mouth. “We haven’t really spoken before, but he’s in a few classes with me.”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at the concerned tone in the other’s voice. “What’s wrong, Pat?”

“I’ve never seen Logan wear anything less than a tie and polo shirt. I don’t think anyone has.” Patton responded, his concern growing as he spoke. “Plus he has this look on his face that…”

Patton suddenly stood up with a determined look on his face before plastering a smile on and calling out to the newcomer.

“Hello!” he called. “Logan, right?”

Logan jumped from the surprise of someone calling him so suddenly. “Oh, hello.” he said as he turned to look at who was addressing him.

“So, you like Sherlock?” Patton asked casually as he strolled towards the other.

“Oh, um.” Logan began, obviously thrown for a loop at the seemingly random question. “Yes? I admire Sherlock’s intelligence and wit. He’s a rather compelling character with incredible development.”

Patton grinned. “I like John! He’s sweet and he cares about Sherlock even though he doesn’t always understand him. He’s really brave too.”

Logan hesitantly smiled in response. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was better than the expression he had on moments ago. “Yes, well.” he said as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “I should be taking my leave now, as I did not expect anyone else to be up here at this time.”

“Wait!” Patton exclaimed as he waved his hands excitedly. “You should join my friend and I for lunch!”

Logan grimaced. “I don’t think I should. Besides, I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“Don’t worry about it man.” Virgil piped up from where he was still sitting, a cautious but fond glint in his eye as he looked over at Patton. “Besides, I think Pat’s taken a shining to you. He’ll probably chase you down if you try to leave. You might as well just join us.”

Patton laughed lightly as Logan sighed in defeat.

“Fine, I’ll join the both of you.” he said. “I don’t have a lunch of my own, however.”

“That’s okay!” Patton said as he led Logan over to their normal sitting area. “I have extra, so I can share!”

As they made themselves comfortable, Patton handed Logan half of his sandwich and a bag of chips. Logan offered a small, tired smile of gratitude. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Patton responded with a smile. “It looked like you could use something to eat.”

Logan grimaced. “Is it that obvious?” he questioned quietly.

“Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen you out of a tie is all.” Patton said soothingly.

“Well, today’s attire wasn’t exactly on purpose.” Logan leaned back and glared at the clouds above them. “Honestly I was just wearing this to sleep in last night, but…”

“But?” Virgil prompted.

Logan sighed. “I’ve been studying for a rather important test for the last few days, and I might have gotten less sleep while doing so than I should have. And because of that, I managed to sleep through my alarm clock this morning, and I missed the test.”

“Is that why you were up here?” Patton asked carefully.

“It’s one of the main reasons, yes. I came up here to think and to… consider my options.” Logan’s hands were clenched into fists as he stared down at them, lost in his own thoughts. “I can’t fail. I just can’t.”

“I don’t think failing one test will make you fail the entire class.” Patton interjected cautiously.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Even if it did, failing isn’t exactly the worst thing in the world, you know?”

“Tell that to my parents.” Logan said, clenching his teeth bitterly.

“Ahh.” Virgil spoke, understanding coloring his statement. “Overbearing types, right?”

Logan scoffed. “You have no idea. They’ve been breathing down my neck about my grades since I was old enough to read.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair once more before adjusting his glasses. “The thing is, I actually really do enjoy learning, but all the pressure from over the years is becoming too much. Even astronomy isn’t as fun for me anymore, due to having to hear lecture after lecture from them about how it’s a ‘frivolous waste of my time that could be better spent studying for something I actually have a class in.’”

“Eeesh, that sucks man.” Virgil replied sympathetically.

Logan nodded slowly, his exhaustion becoming more apparent. “I don’t really know what to do anymore. I’m always so stressed and wound up. I can’t even tell if the headache that I’ve had the last few days is from stress or that I might be getting sick, but it doesn���t even matter because either way I don’t have the time to try and fix it, and-”

“Logan.” Patton gently cut off Logan’s rambling that had begun to pick up speed. “Can I hug you? Please?”

“What?” Logan blinked at the other, seemingly shocked. “You want to hug me? …Why?”

“Cause you look like you could use one, hun. Plus, do I really need a reason to want to hug you? Hugs are great!”

“Well, yes but… no one’s ever…” Logan fumbled over his words, trying to form a coherent sentence. “I mean, probably when I was a baby, but certainly not since then-”

“Are… Logan, are you saying that you’ve never been hugged?” Patton asked quietly, audibly not wanting to believe it.

Logan blushed at the attention from the other. “Well, yes, technically. But it’s not really a big deal-”

A pained noise came from Patton’s throat as he leaned forward to pull Logan into his arms. He carefully angled Logan’s face towards his neck, and securely wrapped his arms around the other, not planning on letting him go for a while.

Logan blinked in shock as he was moved around. Normally he hated people touching him, but this was… nice. After a few seconds of not moving, he slowly began to lean into the hug. He slowly put his arms around Patton as well, still a bit unsure as to where to put his hands. Receiving comfort from someone like this after so much time spent not taking care of himself was more enjoyable than he thought possible. He relaxed completely into Patton’s grasp, just letting himself be held.

Patton held on for a few more moments before releasing Logan and slowly drawing back to look him properly in the face before speaking. “Will you start joining us for lunch? It sounds like you need something to keep your mind off the stress.”

Logan rubbed his arm nervously. “I don’t know if I should…” he trailed off.

“Honestly dude,” Virgil started, handing Logan a water bottle, “I think you should. You need a break, and I think having you around would be kinda nice. You seem pretty chill, plus it’d be nice to have someone to chat about space with.”

Patton grinned proudly at Virgil. He had come so far out of his shell from when he first met him, and Patton couldn’t be happier. “Exactly!” Patton smiled, shifting his gaze back to Logan. “The more the merrier, right? I don’t know much about space like you guys, but I’d love to hear about it!”

“That is…” Patton began sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Only if you’re okay with it? I don’t want to force you into anything, after all.”

Logan remained silent for a few moments, silently staring out at the trees. “I think that your proposition sounds agreeable. I’m not against having people that are willing to speak with me in a casual setting.”

“I’m taking that as a yes!” Patton said cheerfully.

Logan smiled softly. “It is, yes.”

Patton threw his hands up in excitement. “Yay! A new friend!”

A fond chuckle erupted from Virgil as Logan flushed darkly.

“Friends?” Logan finally questioned quietly.

“Only if you wanna be.” Patton replied. He smiled gently at the other and patted his hand comfortingly. “If you don’t want to be, I’d understand, Kiddo.”

Logan furrowed his brows before looking back up at Patton in determination. “No… No, I think being friends would be nice.”

Patton squealed happily and pulled him into another hug.

“Cool.” Virgil spoke up from the side of them. “Now maybe Pat can focus on hugging you instead of me all the time.”

Sneaking a hand out, Patton mischievously grabbed Virgil’s hand and yanked him forward into the hug, wrapping his free arm around him as he fell forward.

“Fuckin’ ow, Pat!” Virgil mock complained, a smirk fighting against his lips.

“You know you love my affection, Kiddo.” Patton responded, hugging him closer.

“Oh my.” Logan cut in with a raised eyebrow and laughter hidden in his voice, “Is it too late to take back my friendship acceptance?”

Patton hugged him closer too in response. “Yep!” he chirped happily.

———-

“Did you bring the blankets?” Logan asked the two that were approaching him.

“Sure did!” Patton called. “And I also brought some snacks!” He held up a large bag he held in his grasp.

A few weeks had passed since they met Logan. They were once again on the roof, but as it was night time, they had to sneak up to get there. Logan himself was trying not to think of how much trouble they’d get into for being there at that moment. He glanced down at the friendship bracelet that Patton made for him to match his own and Virgil’s. He tightened it up again, as it kept nearly slipping off.

“I’ll have to fix that for you soon.” Patton commented as he began pulling the blankets out of his bag and laying them out. Logan hadn’t realised that Patton had gotten close enough to see where his attention was.

“As long as you don’t mind…” Logan spoke carefully.

Patton smiled in response. “Of course not! I’m the one that made it anyway. I should be the one to repair it for you.”

“How sweet.” Virgil teased dryly from the side. He handed them both cans of soda and sat down on the blanket, making himself comfortable. “The stars look pretty cool from up here.” he said.

Patton and Logan both looked up at that.

“Oh wow.” Patton breathed. “The stars are so bright here! I couldn’t ever see them clearly where I’m from.”  

“They are rather pleasant here, I must agree.” Logan said as he joined Virgil on the blanket.

Patton was glad he grabbed the biggest blanket he had. There was more than enough room for all three of them to lay back on it. Plus it was soft and had kittens and puppies all over it, so Patton loved it more than most of the other blankets he had.

He moved to join the others when the door leading inside swung open. Patton jumped at the sudden motion, nearly dropping his soda can. He whipped around to look at the source of the noise.

Standing there was a person sobbing loudly. His shirt was bright red with a large crown on it, with matching pajama pants. He must have been wearing mascara, as it was running down his face. He seemed to be crying too hard to notice them as he made his way to the edge of the roof, his arms wrapped around himself.

I know this roof is known as a popular place that people have jumped from before, Patton thought wryly as he instinctually made his way over to the sobbing male, but this is just ridiculous.  

Patton gently tapped the other on the shoulder so as not to startle him too badly. The other still jumped before whirling to face him, eyes wide.

“W-wha?” he asked, seemingly lost.

“Hello.” Patton greeted him quietly. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Patton! What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

The other rubbed at his eyes harshly and sniffled. “I-I’m Roman.”

Patton nodded. “Roman, then. Okay. Can I ask what you’re doing up here?”

Roman sobbed once more. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I didn’t think anyone else would be up here right now.”

Patton smiled wryly, “No one ever does, honestly. And it’s okay! My friends and I aren’t supposed to be up here either, if it helps.”

“Oh.” Roman muttered, seemingly placated by Patton’s admission. “That’s good then, I guess.”

“So, can I ask what’s wrong, Roman? You’re crying up quite a storm there, hun.”

Roman shifted uncomfortably in his spot for a moment.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” Patton was quick to soothe, “I just thought that maybe talking about it could help some?”

The crying male shivered as a gust of wind blew past them, chilling them both to the bone as it went. He shook his head to clear the fuzzy feeling that had settled there. “I guess I can talk about it? I don’t know where to even start though. Everything is just… really overwhelming for me right now.”

“Well,” Patton started cautiously, “how about we start with what has you crying up here at the moment? What caused it?”

Roman sniffled and rubbed at his nose. “It’s stupid.” he muttered darkly.

Patton frowned at the other’s bitter tone. “If it upset you this much, then it clearly isn’t.” he laid a gentle hand on the other’s shoulder. He subtly looked at the others who were watching him carefully from where they sat, ready to intervene in case things turned south, but staying where they were so they didn’t overwhelm Roman with their presence. Virgil offered him an encouraging thumbs up and Patton smiled in return before looking back at Roman who had been lost in thought.

“I… I just found out that I’m being removed from the school’s theater group, cause my grades were slipping too much, and you need decent grades to be allowed to stay in.” He hiccupped wetly and rubbed at his eyes again.

Patton frowned sympathetically. “Theater means a lot to you, huh?” he asked.  

Roman sobbed quietly. “Yeah.” he muttered. “It really does. It was the thing I looked forward to every day, and now I can’t even look forward to that anymore.”

“So why have your grades been slipping recently? If you don’t mind telling me, that is.” Patton questioned.

“Well…” Roman sighed, his mouth twisting into an unhappy grimace. “The thing is, it’s getting close to the anniversary of my Dad’s death.” His chin quivered as he visibly tried to hold back a new round of tears. “It just gets harder to do anything this time of year because of that, let alone trying to pay attention in class.”

“Oh, honey…” Patton said, fighting the urge to pull the other into a hug.

“I’ve been trying though!” he exclaimed, as though he was trying to convince Patton. “Nothing makes any sense lately though, and my brain’s been feeling way fuzzier than normal. But I still tried, cause I wanted to stay in theater.” He laughed bitterly. “Turns out I can’t even manage to do that right.”

“Ro, I have to ask…” Patton began, watching the other carefully. “Did you come up here to jump?”

Roman visibly flinched at the question. “I…I…” His breathing hitched and after a few more gasps he was once again crying. Agonized sobs tore from his throat, each one more forceful than the last, as he fell to his knees.

Patton immediately knelt down next to him and gathered him into a hug. “It’ll be okay, dear.” he whispered softly as he ran a hand up and down his back in a soothing manner.

“I just wanted everything to stop.” he sobbed out, holding onto Patton for dear life. “I’m so alone now, and I can’t even talk to my mom about it cause she just hasn’t been the same since Dad died, and…” he broke off into a new round of sobbing, leaning further into Patton’s hold.

A few moments passed, the only sounds coming from Roman’s crying and Patton’s soothing humming as he gently rocked them back and forth.

“M’sorry that I’m crying all over you.” Roman eventually said, shyly not moving his face out of Patton’s chest as he spoke, too embarrassed to look up at him.

Patton laughed lightly. “It’s okay, sweetie. I get it. Sometimes you just need to cry it out, and to have someone be there for you while you do.”

“…Thank you.” Roman said, his voice now sounding choked up for an entirely new reason.

“Hey,” Patton said after a few more moments of silence, “how about you join my friends and I in stargazing? The stars are really beautiful, and we’d enjoy your company.”

Roman clenched his eyes shut before opening them to gaze up at the other. “That sounds nice. I feel a lot better after talking about everything, actually.”

“Well, if you ever need someone to vent to or just a shoulder to cry on again, I’m here, Kiddo.” Patton said, patting Roman’s shoulder comfortingly.

“Why… are you being so nice to me?” Roman asked. “You don’t even know me, so why?”

Patton smiled. “I don’t have to know you to want to help out. I just love cheering people up!” Patton slowly stood up, still smiling at the other as he leaned down and offered his hand. “I also really like making new friends, if you’re interested?”

Roman could only stare blankly at the other in shock for a few moments before laughing. “I’d be honored to be your friend, Patton!” He grabbed the other’s hand and hoisted himself up, his expression changing drastically from the lost and empty look it had been to bold and expressive smile.

Delighted, Patton laughed. “I’m glad! Let’s go, I’ll introduce you to my friends.”

They walked over to the others, Patton still holding Roman’s hand to lead him as they went.

“Okay.” Patton said as they joined the other two. “Logan, Virgil? Meet Roman.” he gestured between them. “Roman? Meet Logan and Virgil.”

“We heard.” Virgil smirked, mildly amused. “Sound travels pretty well up here. Nice to meet you, dude.” he tilted his head in greeting to Roman.

Roman huffed a shy laugh. “Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone to hear all of that.”

“In that vein,” Logan spoke up, “I do not know if it is too early to speak to you about this, however I still wanted to offer.”

“Offer what?” Roman asked, looking up quizzically.

Logan adjusted his glasses. “I believe that you said that one of the main issues is that you’ve fallen behind in classes, and that has led you to be removed from your theatre group. If that is the case, then if you’d like, I could tutor you?”

Roman’s eyes widened. “Really? Yes, absolutely! Should I pay you?”

“No.” Logan chuckled and shook his head. “I merely enjoy teaching. Consider it a ‘new friend discount’.”

“Do you think they’ll let me rejoin if I get my grades back up?” Roman asked with newfound hope coloring his tone.

Virgil snorted. “They’d better, or I’ll threaten to stop helping them paint their backdrops.”

Roman tilted his head as he regarded the other. “OH!” He exclaimed. “I recognise you now! You painted the backdrops for the last few plays we put on.” He grinned. “I loved the colors you used for the last one. It was beautiful, and the director thought so too.”

Virgil blushed at the praise, running a hand through his hair. “W-whatever.”

Patton beamed. “See Kiddo! I told you your art was great! I’m so proud of you, Virge. Why didn’t you tell me you were painting stuff for them, though?”

“Because, Pat,” Virgil huffed fondly, “If I told you about it, you would have payed to go see the plays just to see what I painted.”

Patton pouted but didn’t disagree.

“Perhaps next time you can just take a picture to show him?” Logan suggested. “That should be a suitable compromise for this situation, I believe.”

Patton’s eyes lit up as Virgil nodded slowly in thought. “That’s a great idea, Lo! You’re so smart!”

Logan’s face began to color at the compliment. “Yes, well…”

“Awww, this is cute.” Roman said, sitting beside Patton on the spread out blanket with a happy grin on his face.

Grabbing the snacks he brought, Patton began handing them out to everyone. “Glad I brought extra cookies!” he giggled.

The rest of the night was filled with friendly bickering and sharing desserts.

Patton leaned back and smiled up at the stars.

————–

“So, instead of staying in a dorm next year, I’m thinking about getting an apartment.” Patton said to them from the floor of his dorm.  

“Can you afford it long-term?” Logan asked, perched on Patton’s bed next to Virgil.

Patton nodded. “Yeah, I have money saved up from all the jobs I worked growing up. I’ll need to get a new one soon, but I have enough for now.” He twisted the strings in his hands, putting the last touches on Roman’s friendship bracelet as he spoke. “I already have a place in mind.”

Roman sat up in the desk chair he had been lounging in. “I hope you know that we’ll still be visiting you daily, Padre. You aren’t getting rid of us that easily.” he grinned.

“Actually,” said Patton, looking up at them nervously, “I wanted to talk to you guys about something. I don’t want you to feel pressured, though.”

“What is it, Pat?” Virgil asked as he leaned forward. “Is something up?”

“Well…” Patton started, “The apartment I’m considering is…” He paused and bit his lip before speaking again. “Would you guys be interested in all of us living together in an apartment? I found one that can fit all of us for a decent price, and I know none of you guys really want to go home, so I thought this was a good idea?”

No one spoke for a moment as they processed that, before Logan cut in, “So you wish for the four of us to live together in an apartment?

Patton nodded. “Unless you guys don’t want to, that is! I can always find a different one to live in by myself, I just-”

“I’d love to.” Virgil said, gently cutting off Patton’s nervous rambling. “Living with you sounds fun, Pat. Much better than going back to see my Dad.” he added with a small frown.

“I don’t want to go home either.” Roman admitted. “There isn’t really much left there for me. Why not live with my dear friends instead?”

Patton smiled at the gleeful grin he got from Roman. He turned his gaze to Logan, almost afraid to hope.

Logan sighed and smiled. “I would like to join you all in living together as well. Anything is better than going back home again. Also I seem to enjoy the company of the three of you a fair amount.”

“Awwww!” Roman exclaimed dramatically. “The nerd does love us!”

Virgil and Patton exchanged fond smiles over Logan’s embarrassed spluttering and subsequent bickering match with Roman. Patton let it continue for a while before deciding it was time to cut in.

“I finished your bracelet, Roman!” He called, holding it up triumphantly.  

Roman shot up to get it, grinning widely as Patton handed it over. “I’m going to wear it every day, promise!”

Virgil laughed. “You’d better, Princey. Even Lo wears his every day.” He gestured casually to Logan’s wrist where his bracelet did indeed sit.

Logan frowned and covered his wrist. “I merely wear it so that I may twist it around when I need to focus on something.”

“Surrreee…” Patton teased lightly from his spot on the floor. He knew Logan didn’t like to admit how attached he had become to the three of them. It was honestly adorable, in Patton’s opinion.

“Well, Virgil wears his every day as well.” Logan retorted, crossing his arms and attempting to draw attention away from his own slowly reddening face.

“Obviously.” Virgil said with a wry smile. “At this point it’s like our group solidarity symbol or something. I’m not really sure that Pat ever actually takes his off.”

Patton gasped and cradled his wrist to his chest protectively with a playful smile. “Of course not, Kiddos! This is what shows how much I love you guys! This is my favorite thing to wear! This is-”

“Going to get ruined in the shower if you continue wearing it in there, yes.” Logan cut in, a fond smile on his face as he lightly scolded the other.

Patton only playfully stuck his tongue out in response.

“So we’re all going to be living together soon?” Virgil asked. “I just wanna make sure we’re all on the same page here. Will we all be able to fit our stuff into one apartment?” He smirked before adding, “I mean Princey’s clothes alone would probably take up two apartments.”

Roman narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me, if anything is going to be taking up too much room, it’s your painting supplies! Who even needs that many canvases, anyway?”

“Oh right, my mistake.” Virgil grinned mischievously. “The real issue of space is going to be trying to fit Roman’s ego anywhere.”  

Roman gasped in mock-offence and brandished a pillow snatched from Patton’s bed. “Villain! Take that back!” he called.

Virgil laughed and grabbed a pillow too. “Make me, dork!”

Having to duck as they attempted to pillow fight over him and nearly losing his glasses, Logan decided it was time to make his way onto the floor to sit by Patton.

“They sure are spirited today.” Logan remarked dryly.

“They are.” Patton responded with a delighted grin. “Isn’t it wonderful?”  

Logan raised an eyebrow as they both had to dodge a misthrown pillow. “I don’t know if that’s the word I would use, but I suppose it is good that they seem to be getting along… in their own way.”

Patton just hummed happily in return.

Tilting his head, Logan took in the male next to him. Patton’s freckles stood out more lately after having been in the sun for most of the day prior, having been helping out the outdoor bakesale someone on campus had been holding. His hair was curling and still damp from his shower, but as Logan looked closer he realised there were dark circles under Patton’s eyes. Had he not been getting enough sleep?

“It was quite intelligent of you to think to have us all live together, Patton.” Logan finally settled on saying.

Patton smiled. “Aww, that’s sweet Lo, thank you. I think that’s the first time anyone’s called me intelligent, honestly.”

Logan’s eyebrows furrowed at the admission. “Well that’s a shame, as I find you to be incredibly intelligent. Besides, there are multiple types of intelligence, and you seem to have emotional intelligence in spades.”

“Thanks Lo.” Patton said, tears forming in his eyes at the praise. “That means a lot. Really.” He laughed lightly and rubbed at his eyes. “Honestly I wanted to live together cause I can’t bear the thought of being away from you guys for long stretches of time. Pathetic, huh?”

“Certainly not.”

Patton blinked and looked up at the sureness in the other’s tone. “Wha…?”

Logan adjusted his glasses as he spoke. “Patton, I don’t believe any of us are too keen to be away from you for too long either. We enjoy your company and the presence you bring to the group. We would certainly miss you if you were to leave at any point.”

“Couldn’t’ve said it better myself, Specs.” Roman said, butting in with a grin. His hair was wildly disheveled from the pillow fight and his shirt was rumpled.  

Patton had to hold back sniffles as Virgil smiled fondly at him from the bed, his jacket having been abandoned at some point during their epic showdown. “Love you, Pat.” he said quietly.

Rubbing at his eyes, Patton laughed.

He was happy.

————–

They ordered pizza to celebrate moving into their new apartment. They hadn’t unpacked most of the boxes yet, but it was a start.

“When’s the couch getting delivered?” Roman asked. “I hate that we’re stuck sitting on the floor like this.”

“It should be delivered tomorrow. And stop whining, you’re the one that wanted to have them deliver it here rather than to just take it from the store ourselves.” Logan dryly replied.

“Excuse you, but I’m not going to ruin my nails trying to lift a couch up that many flights of stairs, thank you.” Roman said through a bite of pizza.

Virgil rolled his eyes at the other. “Prissy as ever, Ro.”

“Just because I take good care of my nails, unlike your poor nails that have probably never even seen a file-”

“Who wants a cookie?” Patton called out, walking in from the new kitchen. His light blue apron tied securely around his waist.

“Oooo, I do!” Roman replied, immediately distracted by the promise of sweets.

“Yeah sure.” Virgil said with a shrug.

Logan adjusted his shirt before speaking, “I would like one as well, please.” he said.

“Okay, one for everyone then.” Patton said happily as he handed them out. He knew the others loved his cooking, and he had taken to cooking for them when he could. Now that they had their own kitchen, he could cook as often as he wanted. He couldn’t wait.

The rest of dinner was spent in companionable silence, the only sounds coming from Roman’s quiet humming and the pages of Logan’s booking turning after he finished his slice.  

“Would you guys mind helping me make dinner tomorrow? There’s a few parts I could use a hand with. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.” Patton asked as he tossed his napkin in the trash.

“Of course Patton! Helping you out in the kitchen is the least we owe you!” Roman declared.

Patton frowned as he saw Virgil and Logan nod in agreement. “Now Kiddos,” He started sternly, “you know that none of you owe me anything, right?”

Logan and Virgil shared a look before Logan spoke up calmly, “Well, you did technically save our lives. So we do sort of owe you, Patton.”

“None of you owe me anything, okay? Please don’t think you do… I…” Patton trailed off, at a loss of what to say.

“Pat, I’d be dead if you hadn’t talked me off the roof that day. All of us would be. Why are you so against us trying to pay that back?” Virgil asked, concern coloring his tone as he watched the other carefully.

Patton clenched his teeth. “I… I’m not…” He forcefully shut his eyes as he spoke, “I didn’t help you guys because I’m some perfect person or something. I did it because… because I…”

The previously calm mood of the room became heavy and tense at his words. Virgil eyes began to widen in understanding. He swallowed past the lump in his throat before shakily asking, “Pat? …Pat, that day I met you… Why were you really up there that day?”

Patton looked up, meeting Virgil’s pleading gaze, his face almost begging to be told that his fears were unfounded. Patton could only offer up a teary smile in response, his eyes tired as he quietly spoke, “I suppose it’s time I told you guys, huh?” He paused and closed his eyes. He took a calming breath before reopening them and speaking.

“…I was up there to jump that day. I wanted to die.”

He continued on as the others were too shocked to respond. All movements stopped at his confession. “Isn’t it ironic?” he asked tearfully through a bitter smile. “I brought snacks that day, cause I wanted something sweet before I died, and…” he took a breath and looked up to meet Virgil’s eyes. “And then I met you. And when I saw you standing there, you looked so much like what I saw in the mirror every day. So lost and broken… it hurt to look at. I couldn’t bear to just do nothing. It hurt to think of someone else feeling as awful as I felt. So before I knew it, I was calling you over.”

“Pat…” Virgil whispered, reaching a hand out but dropping it quickly, unsure if Patton wanted to be hugged yet.

“If you don’t mind us asking,” Logan began carefully, “why would you want to…?” he trailed off.

Patton sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “There’s a reason I’ve never mentioned my family before.” he answered after a few seconds of silence. “But I guess I should talk about it.”

“When I was seven years old, I was in a car accident. The car caught on fire, and it spread quickly. I was saved in time. My parents… weren’t.” He paused, wiping the tears from his eyes before speaking again. “I was sent to live with my uncle. He was… he wasn’t a nice man. He certainly didn’t want a child, but he did want someone to boss around and do his chores for him. My parents were wonderful people, so suddenly living with someone like him was-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Maybe I was just a spoiled kid, I don’t know. It wasn’t nice, though.”

“You weren’t spoiled for wanting love, Pat.” Virgil’s eyes burned with a quiet fury, directed at someone it couldn’t reach.

Patton sighed, exhausted. “Maybe. I don’t know.” he shook his head and continued. “Anyway, he never really bought me any new clothes or supplies for stuff, so I just… learned how to sew. That way I could mend my clothes when they got old and got holes in them. I started working odd jobs around the neighborhood I grew up in to save money so I could afford to buy lunch at school and new shoes when my old ones fell apart.”

“When I got a little older, I went into the bakery in my town. I think the old lady who owned it took pity on me, cause she let me work there on the weekends. I helped clean up around the place and washed dishes. My favorite times, though, were when she let me help bake. Sometimes she’d let me take some day-old pastries home in a bag, and I’d ration them out to eat for a week. My uncle complained when I ate too much of his food, so it worked out, I guess.”

“I eventually applied to college without telling him. I saved up enough money over the years for it, and I just left. He didn’t file a missing person’s report, and I honestly can’t say I expected him to.” Patton let out a choked laugh as he continued. “When I got here, I realised that I wasn’t as happy as I was expecting to be. And that now that I didn’t have to do stuff for my uncle, I was more alone than ever. I was just… tired. Even the things I used to find fun weren’t as good anymore. Not even going to the shelter to play with the puppies and the kittens. I just wanted everything to stop, so…” he shrugged.

Patton’s head whipped back up at the sound of a sob. Virgil, Logan, and Roman were all crying to some degree. Roman was sobbing audibly, not bothering to restrain it anymore. Virgil rubbed at his eyes roughly before looking at Patton helplessly. “Can I hug you?” he asked.

Patton could only nod as the other launched himself towards Patton to wrap him up in his arms. “I’m so sorry you had to go through all that, Pat. That’s… that’s fucking awful and you shouldn’t have had to go through it.”

Logan nodded, wiping at his face with a tissue. “He’s correct, Patton. That was indeed too much for someone to have to deal with. You’re much stronger than any of us gave you credit for.”

“I’m not strong.” Patton denied. “I almost didn’t stop Virgil. I nearly just waited like a coward so that I could jump after him.”  

“But you didn’t.” Virgil whispered, holding onto Patton tighter. “You didn’t just let me fall. You stopped me.” He pulled away from Patton just enough to look him in the eyes. “Patton… You saved me. You saved all of us. And I am so so happy that I got to meet you.”

“You are a valiant knight, Patton.” Roman piped up, a serious look on his face. “But you don’t have to bare the burden of being the strong one alone anymore. You can rely on us.”

“You can relax now, Patton.”

A loud sob tore it’s way out of Patton’s throat at the sincere words. For the first time since he was seven, Patton just let himself cry. He heard the others make their way over to him and he felt their arms wrap around him, all of them holding him securely as he cried.

They sat that way for the next few hours as Patton finally let himself cry for his parents, for the childhood he never got to have…

For the friends he almost never got to meet.

He cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, and his friends cried with him. Logan went and came back with a bottle of water for him. He drank it down greedily.  

“I love you guys… so much.” Patton eventually croaked out.

Virgil smiled back at him. “We love you too, Pat. And we’re here for you just like you’re here for us. So please… talk to us when things get bad for you too, okay?”

Patton sniffed and nodded. “Okay.” he said. “I’ll try.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Patton. Your happiness is important to me.” Logan said.

“Me too!” Roman piped up. “I’ll always be here for you, Padre.”

Patton smiled at them all. “Awww, you guys. I’d start crying again, but I don’t think it’s possible right now. So how about we take a nap instead? Cause I’m honestly exhausted and I think I might collapse if I try to stand up right now.”

Virgil snorted at that and Roman stood up dramatically.

“I propose a cuddle pile!” He called.

Logan nodded in response. “Satisfactory. I believe the blankets are in that box over there.” He pointed to a large box in the corner. “I’ll help you lay them out.”

Patton and Virgil watched as the other two began bickering about the best blanket placements.

Virgil looked over at Patton carefully. “Do you think you’re gonna be okay, Pat?”

Patton took a moment to quietly consider the question. He watched the bickering pair across the room, and he looked at their shared apartment.

Then he looked back at Virgil, the one who had unknowingly saved his life by trying to take his own.

“I think…” Patton started thoughtfully with a small smile, “I think that I will be.”

Patton hugged Virgil closer. “I think all of us will be.”

---------

Part 2

—–

Taglist: @221biotchplease @logically-sided @princelogical @drawyoursword @generalfandomfabulousness @sander-sideblog @alagaesiasdragonqueen @disbemee @sanders-trash-4ever

[miss-wanderlustwriter]

Sometimes I really don’t like you. Part 2 ♥

Billy Hargrove x Reader & Billy Hargrove x Max Mayfield(sister!)

A/N: Okay so following the overwhelming response from my drabble (Part 1) I’ve written a Part 2 :) I really hope you all like it ♥ P.S I’m pretty sure there’ll be a Part 3. Love to you all!

The engine fumes clouded the clear Monday morning air as Billy Hargrove revved his engine into his usual parking spot. Months had passed since the start of the school year yet he still drew the attention of the loitering students at the start of each day.

Billy had barely brought the car to a halt before Max jumped out, throwing her skateboard down and speeding off to the middle school.

“Hey kid! You need a ride later?” Billy threw his door open and shouted after her.

Max didn’t stop but yelled over her shoulder back to her step brother, “No thanks, I’ll go with the guys and Steve!”

Billy rolled his eyes as he clambered out. His relationship with Max may be on the mend however he still couldn’t stand Steve Harrington. That preppy, popular, rich kid who couldn’t play basketball to save his life but always seemed to be around you, bringing that smile to your face. Just once he wanted to be the reason he heard that magical laugh.

He was so lost in his bitterness that he failed to notice you pulling up in your red Ford Mustang. Your eyes gravitated towards him straight away, watching him strut like he does towards the school entrance. Dragging your gaze away from how good Billy was looking in denim you grabbed your things, with a short shake of your head, and rushed towards class already slightly late.

Lunch rolled around and Billy was already bored with the day. What Max had said to him yesterday was still doing laps around his brain and before he had time to process his plan of action you appeared in front of him. You had your head in a text book and, for once, were purely on your own, nearly walking straight into Billy.

“Woah hey.”

His voice lifted your head in surprise to find him inches from you. “Oh Billy, hi. I mean sorry, I was miles away.” You stuttered tucking your hair behind your ears and clutching your book to your chest, embarrassed at being caught so unaware by him.

“No you’re fine, Y/N.” He paused slightly, taking his time over your name. “Ermm, are you okay?”

“I am. Thank you.” And you flashed him your famous smile nearly knocking him off his feet.

“You’re not going to lunch?” He questioned, noticing your path leading away from the cafeteria.

“No, to the library. I’ve got a big Math test tomorrow, thought I’d get some more studying done. Between you and me it’s not my strongest subject.” You let out a breathy laugh highlighting your nerves.

“Oh shit is that tomorrow?!” Billy’s hand flew up to his curls, how could he forget about this stupid test. He had to pass or else his Dad would be on him like a tonne of bricks.

Even through his panic he could still admire the giggle that escaped your lips at his realisation. “That’s right, I forgot you’re actually in my Math class, I haven’t seen you there in a while.” 

“Yeah well it’s not my favourite subject.” He sighed.

He watched you with interest as you looked around the now deserted hallway before turning back to him, lowering your voice for dramatic effect, “Come with me.” You looked him dead in the eyes and his breath almost failed him. “Quickly, we can make it before anyone realises we’re both losers at Math.”

Billy couldn’t stop his smile matching yours and he took your outstretched hand on instinct, he let you trail him down the corridor, around the corner and to the farthest desk in the almost empty library. There you both stayed for the whole lunch hour figuring out algebra together, and Billy found he wasn’t actually as bad at Math as he thought. He felt useful when he could explain a method to you when you just didn’t get it, and proud when you finally understood and he saw the light bulb go on behind your eyes.

“Oh boy am I glad I ran into you Billy.” You exhaled as the bell signalled the end of lunch and you started packing away.

“Me too.” Billy muttered under his breath as he stood.

“Who knew you were such a wizz kid in algebra,” You nudged his shoulder as you walked side by side leaving the library, “You should show up to class more often.”

“Yeah maybe.” He casually brushed it off but was actually considering making more of an effort, not only because you suggested it but maybe it would help get his Dad off his back as well.

Billy was taken aback when you stepped in front of him to halt his steps.

“Seriously Billy, thank you, if by some miracle I pass tomorrow it’s all down to you.” And before he could react you had given him a gentle squeeze on his arm and fled down the hall to class as the second bell rang, leaving him trying to remember where he should be for next period.

At the end of the day Billy was sat on the hood of his Camaro mindlessly smoking his cigarette as the last trickle of students vanished for the day. He knew he didn’t have to wait for Max but his thoughts were a jumbled mess and he couldn’t face going home like this.

He was staring at the tarmac, watching a little ladybird crawl over each little bump of gravel wishing he could tackle his problems as easily, when he felt the car shift as somebody sat beside him.

“So did you talk to Y/N today?” Max brought him out of his trance, and he slowly turned his head to meet her inquisition.

“Yeah.” He shrugged taking another drag but making the conscience effort to exhale away from Max.

“Oh no, what happened?” Concern was etched across the red head’s face while Billy took one look at her expression and couldn’t hold back his smile any longer.

“It was great Max.” He ruffled her hair in gratitude. “You were right, I wasn’t even trying and she, almost literally, crashed into me. I err, I didn’t put the moves on her but we ended up studying all lunch.”

“Woah woah, hold on one second.” She raised her eyebrows at him, “You? Studied?”

Billy pushed her off his car as she flew into a fit of giggles, barely landing on her feet, “Hey asshole!” She hit him back in retaliation but she still couldn’t stop laughing, “I guess she’s having a good influence on you already.”

“Yeah whatever. That’s the last time I tell you anything.”

“Oh no way, you have to tell me everything.” She gripped his jacket in her hand shaking his arm, pleading.

He sighed as he threw his cigarette stub to the ground and stood up, “I will kid, just give me time yeah? I’m not even sure this is a good idea.”

“Yeah okay.” She accepted defeat and the fact he had to do this alone. But she knew Y/N better than Billy did at this moment in time and had a feeling this was only the start of something, and if Y/N had already got him studying from one decent conversation it could only get better from here right.

“I thought you didn’t need a ride tonight anyways?” It was Billy’s turn to bring Max out of her trance.

“Oh I don’t, I just saw you out here looking depressed and assumed disaster had struck. Thought I better come check.” There was a softness to her voice this time, knowing she could only push him so far with her sarcasm.

Billy let out a low chuckle, “Thank you, really Max. I’ll catch you at home okay.” And he made his way round to the drivers door while Max ran back to AV club.

Billy drove around town for a little while after, blasting Metallica on his latest mixed tape and letting his mind run.

He missed California: the sun, the sea, his Mom; and when he’d had his fun sleeping around Hawkins he found that the California shaped hole was still there. So he turned to unleashing his pent up anger, and to his regret it had mainly been aimed at Max.

She came to him though, after everything he’d done to her and her friends, she made the first step in building their bridge and he couldn’t be more grateful. 

One night when Neil thought she’d be asleep, like every other time, she heard a loud thump coming from somewhere in the house. Confused, she used her sneaking abilities and observed Billy being thrown around his room. She was shocked and disgusted that his own Dad could do that do him, no matter how much of an ass Billy was. But she now understood that his bruises weren’t from fights in school, so when she heard the muffled sobs that could only be from Billy in the early hours of the morning, she waited until she was sure Neil and her Mom were asleep, before slowly creeping into his room with a cold compress. No words were shared that night but she sat next to him and held the damp cloth against his blackening eye, and he let her.

Billy found himself subconsciously driving home, not to his Father or step Mother, but to his sister. He also realised he wanted to make sure he was totally prepared for this Math test tomorrow, and whatever else the universe was going to throw at him.

Like, share, comment, enjoy! ♥

Tags: @make-upgeek @iris1697 @hawkinshairkings