#yes i think this was exactly the conversation when they flew away

[gyjo-enthusiast]

special case. ch.3

retired!nanami x younger!sorcerer!reader

summary: during field training, each student is assigned one semi-grade 1 or higher ranked sorcerer. after the last student is left without a mentor, her professor pairs her up with his old, retired grumpy friend.

reader is in their 20s (attending college), afab!reader, fem pronouns

tags: fluff, eventual smut, colleagues with benefits (is that a thing?), age gap (reader in early 20s, nanami in mid 30s), virgin reader

previous chapter: special case. ch.2 | next chapter: to be finished

jujutsu kaisen masterlist | masterlist

chapter summary: after taking up the offer to spend a whole week at your mentor's place, you pack your things and talk through dinner together.

proofread: yes

word count: 2883 (9m)

song rec:

"are you sure it's not going to bother you?" you look at your shoes, sheating both weapons. after nanami's proposal to spend a week at his place, you tensed up, naturally.

"goodness gracious," his hand flew up to his temples, indicating irritation, "i gave you the option, of course it's not going to be a problem." turning his back to you, the blonde started walking away.

"of course if you do not want to, you don't have to," he said, mindful of how this could seem to others. "but i doubt that your classmates are all going back to dorms every single day."

"you think so?" you pondered for a while, coming to a conclusion of staying with your mentor. "okay, but i'll still have to get some spare clothes."

"go ahead and get them. i will text you my address, if anything happens, just let me know," you exchanged numbers before parting ways.

a few minutes later, your phone dinged with a notification of nanami's text consisting of his address and a question: "do you have any allergies? i'm going to make dinner." your face was redder than the sweetest strawberry reading that. wanting to keep cool, you texted back a simple "no allergies, but i don't like raw tomatoes. thank you so much:)"

thankfully you were left on read, you don't think you'd be able to handle a friendly conversation with your mentor. your very handsome mentor at that. your very handsome mentor who was preparing dinner for you two.

you couldn't hide the little smile that took shape on your lips, speeding up slightly. you wanted to be done with those obnoxious stairs to school and unwind after a long day.

as if nanami knew exactly what was going on, almost nobody was staying at the school dorms. quickly, you shuffled your feet towards the second to last door on the floor, unlocking and shutting the piece of old wood behind you.

you picked up your favourite backpack and started filling it up with clothes. checking the things off of your mental checklist: pjs, underwear, comfy clothes, spare uniform, your favourite plushie and more boring stuff like toothpaste and toothbrush.

you were practically sprinting out of your room, when your phone dinged again. this time, it was a notification from your class group chat. as if it was a sign from god himself, you realised you need your charger. you silently thanked yuuji for sending so many unnecessary selfies and finally closed the door. locking it twice, you briskly left the vicinity of your school and tried to find nanami's address on a map.

before you knew it, you descended the school stairs and went into the town without ever finding where his house is located, so you decided to focus on your surroundings for a bit to find out where you even are.

"to my left is a.." looking left, you saw an old bus station, which you tried to locate on the map. "a bus station.."

where the hell is it?!

"okay to my right is a theater, that should be easier to find," you hopelessly scrolled on your phone to find out where you are and where nanami's house is. "it should be easier to find, right?" you started to panic when you couldn't find anything around you on the map.

you were as lost as on your first day in tokyo, maybe even more. you knew you should text your mentor to let him know, but how could you? this is more embarrassing than not being able to exorcise a low-level grade curse.

realising that this is pointless, you gave in and started to look for nanami's number in your contacts.

but of course, as if he was telepathic, he called you before you could even dial his number.

"y/n? are you okay?" he said overly harsh, as if he was afraid something might have happened.

you sighed and eventually answered, "yes, sir. i'm.. i'm lost." you expected a scolding but it never came.

"lost? as in you already got your things but can't find the address? or you never went back to dorms?" nanami softened his tone, relieved that it's nothing serious.

"i can't find the address. i'm sorry," you apologised, guilty for being so troublesome.

"it's okay, just describe where you are, yeah?" he sounded entirely different now, like a concerned friend more than a mentor.

"um, well i can see an old bus station, it looks like it's not being used anymore, there's not a name of the station anywhere. there's also a theater on the opposite side," you paused for a second before finishing your thought, "it's like a crossroad if that makes sense? also i can't see anybody."

"y/n," nanami called out to you flatly, "don't go anywhere, alright?" you heard shuffling on the other side of the phone. "i think i know where you are so just wait there."

"can you not just tell me in which direction to go, sir?" you asked timidly, not wanting to be a burden.

"it's okay, the streets there are complicated to navigate through so this is easier. i'll be there in a minute." and with that, he ended the call and you were left in the empty streets, waiting.

a few minutes went by and you saw the first person to pass through here. as he made his way towards you and you could see him more clearly, you knew that without mistake, it was nanami.

you didn't know whether to be relieved or even more stressed, because he had to come for you like for a kindergartener. you slowly approached him and sheepishly smiled.

"i'm sorry sir, i'm still not used to tokyo," you excused yourself, as if it was good enough to make him come all the way here.

"don't worry about it, for now, let's go eat dinner. i'll tell you about this place later," he put a hand on your shoulder, reassuring you that it was not a big deal.

as you made your way through the streets, you suddenly understood nanami about the complicated layout of the town. if he was to just navigate you, it would do more harm than good.

it was really just a few minutes until you were at nanami's place. he unlocked the door to his apartment and led you to his bedroom.

"since i don't have a spare room, you can sleep here if you don't mind," he gestured towards his king-sized bed. your worried gaze fell upon him as he explained, "i will sleep on the couch, don't worry."

"no, i can't do that," you instantly protested, not wanting to compromise his comfort. "i'll sleep on the couch and you can sleep in your bed," you beamed at him, leaving for the living room.

"it's okay y/n, there's plenty of room on the couch for me to sleep on, if that's what you're worried about," he ignored your statement and stood infront of you. "i've fallen asleep there many times."

"but this is just rude of me, first i can't find your address and then i take your bed?" you sadden a bit, backing away from nanami.

"don't forget that i was the one who suggested this," he crosses his arms and looks down at your small form. "sleeping on the couch is my responsibility as well. at least for this week."

he was taking this very seriously, you wanted to argue once more. you looked up at him, ready to take the couch for yourself, but you stopped yourself. it's not as if his stern gaze alone put you in your place. no, he looked completely different when he wasn't working.

hair slightly falling into his face, forearms exposed (courtesy of his rolled up sleeves), the first two buttons of his shirt undone and glasses discarded. his eyes watched you as you observed him, waiting to see if you'll still protest or not.

after a while, you surrenderred and went to his bedroom. "whatever, but don't complain if your back hurts tomorrow. don't forget that i wanted you on the bed!"

"what?" nanami looks at you, confused.

"w-what?" you repeat after him, confused as well. with a sigh, he softly closes your door and leans against the wall.

"change into something more comfortable and come eat. i hope you're not going to run around in your uniform all day," the blonde then walks away to give you some sort of privacy.

you have to admit, you weren't the best with wording, at least he understood that. you hope. it's amazing how he can brush past that situation and go eat. at the same table with you nonetheless.

you were blushing like crazy just remembering the situation, but what makes matters worse was your choice of clothing. it was particularly hot during this time, so you decided to pack just some shorts that were laying around and a shirt that may be too small for you. that shirt was practically a crop-top now.

looking at your new outfit, you seriously thought that maybe being in your school uniform was better after all. you tried to shove all the inappropriate thoughts away as you awkwardly waddled towards the dining area, careful not to show any more skin than necessary.

nanami was still turned towards the counter, and you hoped he could stay like that while you ate and also went back to his bedroom.

"have you ever been to korea? or had korean food?" he suddenly asked, making you jump in your seat.

"no.." you simply answered before elaborating, "but i'd like to try it one day, why?"

"then i'm sorry you have to try it with me first. i made bibimbap for dinner," he explains, head half-tilted towards your direction. "it's not as authentic, but i like it," turning to you, he brings out a bunch of small bowls with vegetables, mushrooms and some sort of sauce, "and it doesn't contain any tomatoes."

"no it's okay! i'm sorry to be of any trouble regarding food," you apologise, smiling as he remembers you don't like tomatoes. "you didn't have to make something so big though."

"don't worry, if you weren't here, i would simply eat the rest tomorrow," he plainly stated, bringing two more huge bowls filled with food.

"wow, it smells great," you noted quietly.

"thank you," he smiled softly, explaining the dish, "it's basically a rice bowl with vegetables and meat on top. i didn't want to bother with the eggs so there aren't any, but usually you do them sunny side up. in the small bowls you serve kimchi and gochujang sauce, as well as more vegetables."

"that's amazing, it looks easy to make as well," you look at all the food on the table, "except cutting the vegetables." you laugh quietly, still mesmerised.

"it looks easy, but you have to manage a few things at once. i can give you the recipe if you want to try it out sometime," nanami suggests, making your eyes light up.

"really? i'd like that very much!" you smile at him, a gesture which he returns.

"of course. now let's eat before the rice gets cold," the man in front of you picks up his chopsticks and you mirror his action.

you both eat in silence, enjoying the foreign dish, before a thought pops into your mind. it's that crossroad, where there wasn't a soul to be seen. it seemed like nanami knew about it and you couldn't help but be curious about it.

swallowing your bite, you anxiously asked, "sir?" getting his attention, you continued. "can you tell me about the place where i got lost?"

nanami thickly swallowed before answering. "it's an abandoned part of town, mainly because people who go there disappear and don't come back," he raised an eyebrow at you, "i think you can imagine why that is."

"cursed spirits?" you meekly ask.

"an unseen amount, yes. the jujutsu sorcerers can't regulate them properly. it seems to be a huge area that attracts them," he explains, looking irritated.

"that's horrible, even more so that they can't find out why it's happening," you ponder about it for a while, but let it go eventually. still, it's going to be stuck in your head.

finishing your food, you stood up to help with the dishes before you were stopped.

"it's alright, y/n. i'll do the dishes, you should rest," nanami sounds out from behind you, collecting the small bowls.

"you should be the one resting, sir. i should do it, you're the one who made such an amazing meal after all," you try to protest again, however this time, nanami just doesn't have the strenght to put up with it.

"then you wash them and i will dry them and put them away, is that fine?" he sighed.

"okay then, but only because i don't know where to put them once i'm done!"

as you start to wash the dirty dishes, nanami stands right beside you. that's when it dawns upon you that you still only have your short tee and shorts on. embarrassed, you fixate your eyes onto the sink and try to forget about your poor choice of clothing.

your mentor of course noticed your outfit but tried to be professional about it. whenever you would finish up washing a dish and hand it over, nanami's fingers would brush over yours in the slightest. it was driving you crazy and you soon started to shiver, even though your hands were under the warm water and your ears were red hot.

"y/n?" the aforementioned man spoke up to you, "are you cold?"

oh, this was a nightmare. "no i'm okay!" you straightened up, trying to keep as still as possible but your body was not taking orders from you anymore.

"you're shivering, is the water cold?" he looked over to you as you nervously smiled. "why are you wearing shorts if you're cold? and such a short shirt," it felt almost as if he was scolding you.

"it's okay, sir, i'm not cold, it's just a shirt that was lying around, i was packing up so quickly i didn't realise," you tried to laugh it off but before you opened your eyes, the man disappeared. shortly after he came back with one of his own shirts and set it down on the other side of the counter.

"it's okay, you can have this one for the time being," he patted your back, took a small bowl and started drying it. not wanting this to be more embarrassing than it already was, you let out a small "thank you" before finishing up the dishes.

heading towards the bathroom to shower and change the godforsaken shirt, he called for you one more time.

"do you want to watch the tv before you go to sleep? i don't have one in my bedroom."

"if you wouldn't mind, then yes," you quickly showered and went back to the living room.

"just put on anything you'd like, i'm going to take a shower," you heard nanami's voice from around the corner before hearing the door close.

"thank you, sir!" you shouted back at him and went to find the remote, stealing nanami's blanket before he comes back.

turning on the tv and finding netflix, you had no idea what to watch. you felt like nothing was interesting and whatever was, you already saw six times. seeing a new crime tv show, you put it on only to be fast asleep after half an episode.

nanami took his time, letting you watch whatever you were watching, but before long he couldn't endure the scorching heat of the shower and came out. finally changing into his casual clothes, he heard gunshots and arguments on the tv. sighing, he made his way to the living room, only to find you sleeping on the couch, remote still in hand.

he pinched the bridge of his nose, not believing the situation. nevertheless, he slowly approached the couch and tried waking you up. to no avail.

"y/n, hey wake up," he shook with you slightly, whispering so you wouldn't be in too much of a shock once you wake up. "y/n!" he whisper-shouted at you a few times, which was obviously also not doing anything.

"i can't believe this kid," he whispered to himself, wrapping you in his blanket more. he then picked you up bridal style and slowly made his way to his bedroom, trying not to stumble.

finally setting you down on his bed, he was prepared to take the other blanket from the bed and leave, when a small hand tugged at his sleeve.

"y/n?" he whispered, not sure whether you were awake by now or not.

when you didn't respond, he decided you were sleeping, so he should go too. that's when your hand tugged at his sleeve again, and he noticed small tears rolling down your cheeks.

his heart skipped a beat at that, but he decided that this wasn't right, and ultimately swiped your tears with his thumb and left. without a blanket at that.

he couldn't believe you slept through all of that. maybe a new student was just what he needed in life.

got a bit of a writer's block but we're so back. i think i might just rewatch jjk for this man(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)

[andorshitdaily]

ANDOR + Texts From Last Night

[ghost-bxrd]

I’ve been getting really into magical stuff recently and also DC so I’m just gonna drop this here:

Fae Dick Grayson

F A E

okay so fae stories are special to me because I grew up on hearing pagan folklore and fairytales about fae and fae adjacent creatures as good night stories so hooo boy yes I adore that trope! (I mean, I made Dick a Banshee in my fic Shuck so… hehe)

Anyway, Fae Dick Grayson! There’s just so many things you can do with it ✨

Robin appears from one day to the next, following in Batman’s shadow like a mischievous sprite, so honestly rumors have been going wild about him since day one. Robin actually being something non-human doesn’t really come as a surprise!

The fae folk are known for being awfully good at blending in with regular humans when they put their mind to it, the only thing that puts them apart (in most stories) is their otherworldly beauty, and Dick Grayson? Well, he’s definitely got that in abundance.

Just sometimes, when the light reflects off a surface in just the right way, when someone pours a glass of water and you happen to look right through the spray, or when you think you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye and you spin around— but there’s only Dick Grayson, even if a second ago you could have sworn you saw eyes where there weren’t supposed to be any; colors that aren’t supposed to exist; feathers where only skin has any right to be.

And, gods, all the talking. Dick is terrifyingly good at talking to people without actually saying anything, to the point where you walk away from the conversation feeling utterly drained after spilling your entire life story but when you think back on it— you can’t remember him ever telling you anything about himself. You know there were the usual pleasantries of “hi” and “nice to meet you” and “how are you doing?” but anything beyond that just kinda… seemed to spill out of you? It’s very strange. It’s very unnerving. By the end of the evening you other convince yourself you’re overreacting or you simply push the incident out of your mind altogether.

And there’s another thing about Dick. His name.

He only ever introduces himself as Dick Grayson/Robin. Never Richard. Never. Especially not Richard John. Names are sacred for the fae folk, names have power, so while Richard John Grayson may not be Dick’s true name, he treats it as such to honor his parents. None are allowed to use it. None except Bruce or Alfred on special occasion.

Of course, Dick’s “true” name isn’t exactly a secret so when someone does happen to use it… well, Dick may be… other… but he’s still intrinsically good in a way many of his kind don’t have the patience to be. Dick judges on a case by case basis, just like his parents and Bruce taught him. And usually people do not mean it maliciously when they use his name so he kindly corrects them and that’s that. But oh man, if they still insist on calling him “Richard”? Well..

“Oh no, it seems your credit card is being declined, sir!”

“Sheesh, you tripped over a root? In Gotham?!”

“What do you mean ten birds flew into your window last night? You live on floor level!”

“Dude I’m telling you that rash doesn’t look normal.”

“I… don’t think crows are supposed to follow you like that.”

It’s little things (most of the time, unless you really pissed Dick off) but they keep piling up, slowly driving you insane. You feel like you’re being watched, but it’s just a bird sitting on the window sill again. You feel like someone moved all your furniture just slightly to the right even tho you checked all the cameras.

The fae are kind, but they are also vindictive when crossed.

(Thanks to Bruce, however, I think Dick’s bouts of “vengeance” rarely go much farther than that though.)

Dang ok that ended up being an entire rant… wow. Anyway, yeah. Fae.

[words-4u]

right person (2/3)

pairing: luca x reader

wc: 3.3k

a/n: part two is hereee! i took the conversation that marcus and luca had while chopping/folding dough and revamped it for this fic <3 hope yall like it

warnings: 18+ SMUT, swearing

part 1 / part 3

as it turns out making shiso gelee wasn't as complicated as it sounds but it also helped massively that chef luca is always near to correct any mistakes.

the kitchen is silent besides the sounds of pots and smacking of dough from marcus' station.

luca is drying some tupperware at the table behind you while you whisk some liquid gelatin.

"that's a little bit too thick," he says peering over. "so just add some more pineapple juice."

you caught a whiff of his aftershave which made you want to lose your mind. "yes, chef."

doing as he instructed, you add more juice. "just to know for the future, can i ask why?"

he glances at you before going back to his task at hand. "uh, the thicker it is, the stronger it is. so too thick and it overpowers the other components."

"good to know... and what do you serve this with exactly?"

"uh, we do that with a thin slice of marzipan and a caramel cracker," luca answers.

"damn, that sounds good," you say.

"yeah, it's a nice dish," he comes over to your side and puts away some freshly dried containers.

"uh you're good to go on your break, by the way. we can pick this up in 15,"

"are you sure?"

"yes. the gel needs to set anyways."

"thank you, chef," you smile and make your way to an area behind the restaurant for a smoke break. lucky for you, that area had a nice wooden bench. you take a seat and place a cigarette between your lips, lighting it.

taking your first drag, you shut your eyes and lean your head against the exposed brick of the building.

"i, uh, i don't suppose i could use your lighter, chef," a voice asks. the accent is instantly recognizable.

"oh, sure," you go over to where he's standing and close the distance between you as you light his bud.

you stuff your lighter back into your pocket but don't return to the bench.

"y/n," you say after a few moments.

"sorry?"

"it's just, uh, when we aren't in the kitchen, you can call me y/n,"

he nods.

"so tell me y/n," he says. "how do you like you copenhagen so far?"

"well, considering i've been in the city less than 48 hours, i have no complaints. the scenery is beautiful. food is pretty good and the people..." you look up at him. "i'm still getting to know the people."

he holds your gaze before letting out a cloud of smoke. "hmm."

if you didn't think there was a weird tension between you earlier, you definitely feel it now.

“if you, uh, ever want a proper tour, let me know,” luca says.

it takes everything you have to not breakout into a massive smile. “thanks, chef.”

“outside the kitchen, luca,”

this time you nod. “luca.”

he clears throat and steps on his cigarette. “well, we’d better get back inside and check on the gelee,”

“of course, how could we forget about the gelee,” you say following him back in and you swear you hear him chuckle.

when you got back to your station, you began blanching some large green leaves first by boiling it in hot water and then immediately dumping it in a metal bowl filled with ice water so it doesn't lose its colour.

luca took the metal bowl and brought it to the table behind you where the blender was. he takes a clump of the leaves and then adds water.

"start off low," luca says as he turns on the blender.

the loud noise jolts you a bit.

"you can see the colour change," he says as you move closer. "you see it starting to get brighter?"

"gorgeous colour," you say.

"yeah, it is."

luca pours the green liquid into a sifter and hands you the purified liquid.

he watches as you pour the liquid into a new bowl and asks you to to bloom the gelatin with the cold green liquid to prevent potential clumps.

the second half of your shift flew by because before you knew it, it was time to clock out of the day.

in the change room, you removed your apron and since you were alone you removed your shirt as well quickly sliding on the grey sweatshirt you came with.

just as you brought your sweatshirt down, luca walked in and stood at his locker across from you.

turning your head slightly to peek at him, you caught him pulling off his shirt and since his back was turned towards you, he couldn't see you drinking in the sight of him.

you turned back around and pressed your lips.

"uh, luca," you say.

"yeah?" he says.

"about that, uh, personal tour? is now a good time?" you slowly turn his way.

he cracked the faintest smile. "sure. anywhere particular in mind?"

you shake your head. "wherever you wanna show me,"

"in that case, might i suggest some sustenance first? does coffee sound good?"

"coffee sounds fucking great," you sigh and follow him out the door and on to the sidewalk.

"there's this cafe that i love just up the road," he says.

walking alongside him, you take in your height difference. he's probably 6'2" to your 5'7" so it was perfect.

when you arrive at a hole-in-the-wall cafe, that had blue painted bricks and picture frames of happy looking folks. probably customers or family members.

"hi," luca says going up to the old woman behind the counter. "can i get a medium black coffee and...." he looks to you to say your coffee of choice.

"just a caramel latte please,"

"a caramel latte," he repeats "and two snegls please,"

you grab a table for the two of you near the window so you can people watch while luca gets your order. it's midday now and you watch as people in their own little lives pass by the window.

luca makes his way to you holding two coffee cups and clutching two bags of pastries.

"okay now can i ask what the hell a snegl is?" you say once he's seated.

"sure. it's cinnamon roll style pastry but shaped like a snails shell if that makes sense," he explains.

"so a cinnamon bun?"

he was going to refute your statement but upon seeing the look on your face, he concedes. "yeah, it's a cinnamon bun,"

you guys shard a small laugh.

"so long have you been a cook?" he asks taking a sip of his hot drink.

"about six years now. i went to university for psychology but didn't really feel like it was my thing," you answer.

"so you dropped out?"

"no. after all the hard work my parents did to raise me, dropping out, no matter how disengaged i was, was not an option. so i got that degree but i did tell them the truth. that my heart wasn't in it for that right reasons."

"so how did you fall into cooking?" luca sat up ready to hear your story.

"my dad taught me everything i know," you say a lump started to form in your throat. "i swear his favourite place besides his bed was the kitchen."

luca stayed silent and let you collect yourself. "he passed recently... but he was the best mentor i could have asked for."

"i'm sure he's proud," luca said with sincerity.

you give him a small smile.

"what about you?" you say ready to move on before you start crying in front of your hot co-worker. "how long have you been doing this?"

"uh, fourteen years now..."

"oh, so you started when you were three?" you ask deadpanned.

he chuckles. "close enough, yeah."

"and with that accent i'm guessing you're from london."

"you'd be correct. and you're from chicago?"

"born n raised," you confirm. "so did you go to culinary school?"

"i didn't. no. i didn't do too well in school. got in quite a bit of trouble. ditched the check. they caught me. made me wash dishes, and, uh, i loved it."

"wow, you might be the only person i know that loves washing dishes,"

he shrugs. "it gives me time to reflect."

"fair enough," you hold your hands up. "i can't argue with that."

"so, uh, you said your dad passed recently, but how recent? if you don't mind me asking?"

"no, not at all. i love talking about him," you say. "he died a little over a year ago and not gonna lie... i didn't handle it too well. it was sudden. in his sleep. so i had no chance to say goodbye and i think that's what still hurts more than anything."

you let a tear fall but quickly wiped it away. "i'm sorry."

"you never have to apologize to me. ever. and especially for crying," he hands you a tissue that came with the pastries.

"you're an only child?" he asks taking out a snegl and placing one in front of you.

"i have two brothers. and you?"

"uh, yeah. i have a younger sister somewhere... yeah,"

"somewhere?" you echo taking slow bites of your snegl.

he clears his throat. "half-sister, i have to clarify. my parents separated when i young and my mum quickly found someone new. then my sister came along and then one day... my mum just left. no goodbye or anything just a note saying she wanted to focus on herself... my step-dad got custody of my sister and well i was 18 by that time so i moved out and moved on."

you stay silent for a few seconds. you couldn't believe a mother could abandoned her kids like that, especially someone as great as luca.

"she's missing out... your mom."

"yeah," he sighs.

you were starting to see luca in a different light. after telling him your story and you his, all you wanted to do was hold him and hope to ease his pain and loss. but you couldn't do that so you opted for something safer. kind of...

"hey, want to come back to mine and i can cook us a meal or something?"

"you still wanna cook after today?"

"you can take the cook out of the kitchen, but you can’t take the kitchen out of the cook."

he laughs at that. "okay, let's go."

you and luca talk some more on the way to your place. he makes you laugh telling stories of his younger rugrat days in london and when you're talking, he hangs on to your every word.

"you... live on a boat?" he says when you arrive.

you look back opening the door. "cool, huh?"

"very."

you turn to luca as you place your bag on a hook at the front door. "can i get you anything?"

"water is fine," he says taking a seat the dining table. you get his water and tell him to make himself comfortable as you went up stairs to change into a t-shirt and loose jeans.

it's only when you make your way back down and see luca sitting at the table, that you've realized how small your space and intimate your living space was.

"what's on the menu for tonight, chef?" luca asks as he spots you coming down the steps.

"home made pizza, if your elegant taste buds can handle that?" you reply.

"i can never turn down a pizza,"

you got started on the dough and soon enough luca is by your side helping. what was supposed to be you cooking for him, turned to him taking over and doing all the work which you let him happily.

"how did you get good at this?" you ask as you finished with your slice.

he exhales. "honestly, i made a lot of mistakes."

"so that's the secret then? just fuck up?"

he smiles. "it might be, you know, fuck up."

"i think 'cause i started early, i got my skill set up really quick and then started to feel like i was really the best, you know, like at all these really good places. i really was the best cook. and then i started at this really great place as a commis. and this other chef started the same day as me, and..." he sighs.

"i thought we were competition, um, but really we weren't. he was better than me. much, much better than me. he worked harder and faster than i ever could. and it was the first time i realized that i wasn't the best," he confides.

"and i was never gonna be the best. so i started looking at it like it was a good thing. like, at least i knew who the best was now, and i could take that pressure off myself. and the only logical thing to do was to try and keep up with him. so i never left this guy's side."

"and you got better," you say.

"oh, i got better than i ever thought i possibly could be just from trying to keep up with him."

"that's incredible, honestly," you say putting the dirty dishes in the sink and hopping on the counter.

"thanks but i think at a certain stage it becomes less about skill and it's more about being open."

"open?" you echo.

"yeah. to-to the world, to yourself, to other people. you know, most of the incredible things that i've eaten haven't been because the skill level is exceptionally high or there's loads of mad fancy techniques. it's because it's been really inspired, you know." he says.

"i like that," you say softly.

"you can spend all the time in the world in the kitchen, but if you don't spend enough time out there..." he trails off but you understood what he meant.

"right," you nod.

luca lifts his gaze to you. "it helps to have good people around you, too."

"is what i am? good people?" you smile coyly.

he gets up and walks over to you, placing his hands on either side of the counter in front of you. "honestly? i really think so."

a few moments go by where luca just studies your face and you can feel your heart beating a million miles per hour.

"you are so fucking beautiful," he finally says. his voice barely above a whisper.

those words set your body aflame. you parted your lips and he leaned. "may i?"

"please," was all you managed to get out before luca held your chin and guided your lips to his. he was taking things slow, trying to sus your level of comfortability and giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted but you didn't want that. ever.

you brought your arms around his neck pushing him closer to you. the kiss got heavier and you moaned as he bit your lip. "i have been wanting to do this since i first saw you,"

"good because i've wanted this too," you say as luca starts to kiss your neck and moves his hands under your top.

he slides his hand up and down your back and then around to your boobs to start playing with your nipples. you lean your head back and revel in his affection.

you were desperate to get his hands on him as well so you lifted the black hoodie he adorned wanting to see his chest that you caught just a glimpse of earlier.

"wow," you say as you running both hands across his pecs and abs. you trail your fingers down south before you cup him through his jeans. "is this okay?" you whisper.

"more than okay," he lets out as you message him through his jeans.

he moves to take off your top next and you help, revealing your bare chest to him. luca looks at you in awe and immediately attaches his lips to your nipple while still playing with other.

you unbutton your jeans and luca helps you shimmy out of them.

"fuck," he whispered at the sight of you sitting completely naked and ready for him. he slides two fingers up and down your slit. "you're so wet, is this all for me?"

you whimper at his touch, spreading your legs wider. "all for you, luca."

he brings his fingers to his lips to taste you. "just like i imagined, you taste so sweet" he says as he gets on his knees and slides you to the edge of the counter.

the first lick was heaven. you couldn't help but throw your head back and moan. luca doesn't waste anytime, eating you like your his last meal.

"l-luca," you whine as he sucks on your clit. you grab his golden locks as he laps at your cunt.

"you're the best thing i've ever tasted," luca says in between licks. coming from a chef, that was the highest praise a girl could get.

he detaches himself from your cunt, his nose, lips and chin covered in your juices. he stands and holds your face in his hands and kisses you. you taste yourself on his tongue as he slipped it down your mouth.

"i need to fuck you or else i'm gonna lose my mind," he says in breathy whispers.

"upstairs," is all you said before he carries you in that direction and up the stairs to your bed.

luca drops you on the bed and you lay on your forearms and watch as him takes off his jeans and then his boxers. as he pulls that down, he watches you watch him.

your eyes go wide at the sight of his hard, and rather large, dick. you reach to wipe the pre-cum leaking from his tip, pressing it to your lips. he groans and climbs on top of you. "condom?"

"i'm on the pill," you say caressing his hair back and bringing his lips back to yours.

luca takes his aching dick and rubs it against your slit. "are you ready?"

"mmhm," you say as he wraps your legs around his waist as he sinks into you.

muffled moans are exchanged between the two of you as your mouths clashed hungrily.

"you're so big, luca" you say, squeezing down on his eliciting a hiss from him.

"y-yes squeeze me like that again... fuck," he thrusts his hip into you at a steady pace as you scratched your nails across his muscled back.

"this feels so good," he murmurs.

you gasp as he pulls out almost all the way only to push back int you again. you pull your knees up so he can reach deeper inside you. you could feel him stretching you and filling you up, his beautiful face inches away from yours as he peppers your neck with sloppy kisses.

the sounds falling from your lips are incoherent, his pace moving at a high speed as he wants to get you off. it didn't take long for you to gain the warm sensation in the pit of your stomach. "i'm so c-close,"

"yeah? cum for me, darling," he moans keeping that speed that he's at, his dick throbbing inside you as well signalling he was gonna cum soon.

luca let out a throaty groan before he snaps his hips into you, feeling his first load release into your cunt. you follow close behind as you cover his dick with your wetness but he stills fucks you through your high.

as you catch your breaths, he leans his forehead against your collarbone before he pulls out.

"wait there," he says and goes downstairs and comes back up just as quickly carrying paper towels. he smiles to himself seeing you in your current position all fucked out, liking the effect he had on you.

the bed dips as luca makes his way to you and cleans you up.

you slide under the covers, and when he discards the paper towels, he joins you.

"that was good," you say as he brings you into his chest.

his fingers trail up and down your arm softly while he lays his head on top of yours.

"it was," he says planting a kiss on your head.

"can we stay like this for a bit?" you ask not wanting this moment to end.

"yeah, i'm not going anywhere," he says.

between the day that you had and luca caressing you, you let tiredness wash over you.

tags: @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok, @eddiemunsonreader, @sodapop182, @haydensith, @inpraizeof, @thecraziestcrayon, @zeeader, @tiana76, @jackierose902109

hope you guys enjoyed part two and thank you for all the support on the first part! part three is coming soon <3

[matchesarelit]

Imagine If You Will... Just Us (Lars Pinfield X gn!Reader)

Prompts: “I thought it was going to be just us today” from @pookie-and-cereal's list (here) AND #17, #28 and #30 from @thelonelyempath's list (here).

W.C: ~3k

Warnings: Gary gets typical 3rd wheel treatment, science flirting (it's real bad),

Coming back from Ray's, your arms were killing, turns out hiking over an hour over public transport with more than ten kilos of, for a lack of a better word, junk, was not the brightest idea. Lars had texted you late last night, gushing over the newest adaptions he'd make to the extractor; how much time was saved on every use, how low the resistance rate was etc.

So naturally, when he invited you to come in on the weekend to try it out, your reply could have broken the sound barrier, if it weren't a text that is. You weren't exactly in his realm in regards to ghostbusting science, now don't get me wrong you did ghost bust on occasion, but your main focus was on the PR end of Ghost Corps. Yes, it is a very stressful job. That being so, you weren't sure why he'd chosen to invite you, surely another scientist would be able to understand it better.

Well, who truly cares... you were getting the rare chance to witness his dorky joy and that was not something you were going to turn down.

Finally trudging in through the main doors, you let out a grievous grunt as you dropped the box of trinkets onto a nearby trolley. Tugging it along behind you as you made your way to the main lab, you waved as you always did towards the enclosed ghosts in the hallway. Finally setting sights on the elaborate workspaces of the many scientists that work crammed into the space, you allowed your smile to overtake your features, eager as always to see Lars in his natural environment.

You'd first met when you stated on the G.C PR team, you'd been eager to set up a web page for the Ghostbusters with a page profile for all involved scientists. Winston had had you meet them all here in the lab, Lars was one of the first you'd met and you'd gotten along immediately.

"Heyo! I think you're gonna have to send Ray a gift basket with the amount of stuff he gave us-" Your rattled-out greeting was cut short as your eyes fell on the pair of men huddled by one of the desks. As they turned to greet you, you felt your steps slow, the air felt dense against your movements. Lars had forced out a smile that had no hopes of reaching his eyes, while the man by his side, Gary Grooberson, seemed to be dripping in ecstatic energy as he jogged over to meet you by the steps.

As he lifted the front end of the trolley and helped you carry it down, your eyes fell back on Lars, he was once again facing away from you and he'd retreated to the large mechanical focus of your visit. His hands were busy doing, what even you could tell from across the room, was absolutely nothing.

Cutting your study short, Gary captured you in a hug, it was as it always is; warm and comforting and definitely more for him than it was for you. You had time and time again succeeded in putting a good spin on whatever ruckus his family had created, so he was by no means a new acquaintance, neither was his proclivity for hugs a surprise.

Gary's greeting however flew right past your ears, tearing your focus away from the man on the other side of the space was proving much too difficult. To your luck however, you managed a gentle greeting and casual inquiry of how his family was doing before a notable amount of time had passed.

With a conscious effort you set your eyes on Gary, resolved to focus on the conversation at hand, the man before you was a friend after all. As the conversation continued, small updates about how the Spenglers and co were doing outside of the ghost busts filled the next half hour, before the dialogue began to stall.

Until, Gary, ever the extrovert, started to rifle through the box you'd brought in,

'So, are you as excited for today as I am? It sounds like Lars has been making absolute leaps and bounds with this stuff.'

Now, you wouldn't say you were projecting your voice when you spoke up, nonetheless, it definitely wasn't a normal speaking level. 'Yeah! I can't wait to see what he's been up to...' You trailed off as you glanced towards where Lars still stood, his back to the two of you but his hands had now stilled in place, a change you all but reveled in.

Lars wasn't a guy who enjoyed being alone all to much, you'd been able to gather as such within moments of meeting him. Luckily, that first time, you'd caught him on a good day; when talking about his work, rather than doing it, was pretty much exactly what he wanted to do. He'd tried to come across as a sort of stoic and while it was clear he did enjoy the solitude, the way he interacted with his peers made it crystal clear how much he also enjoyed such conversations.

That was part of why his actions today seemed so strange... You weren't exactly his peer as a scientist, but you knew enough about ghosts and he'd shared similar achievements with you in the past, not to mention the fact that he, himself, had invited you here only last night.

As for Gary, he was a scientific man himself, so why the Lars wasn't chatting happily with him about the newest changes to the mechanism was a mystery to say the least.

You'd hate to admit it, although it wasn't hard to notice by any means, you'd obliviously thought it was just going to be the two of you. So it took some quick metal re-wiring upon realizing you wouldn't just be able to fawn so freely over the unsuspecting scientist as you often did.

In that moment you'd felt bad, noting that both of you were acting strange and that that couldn't have been too fun for Gary.

Although... you considered perhaps Lars was simply overthinking his progress, now that his audience was present. Maybe he just needed a little push to start, like one of those old timey planes.

'Lars' Your call cracked through the silence of the facility, your voice finally tugging the man in question to turn on the spot. 'Come on Science-man, show us what you've got!'

He shook his head slightly in a sort of incredulity as he turned back around, your shoulders fell slightly, but only momentarily as his voice soon bounced around the room.

'Come on then'

Your eager smile reappeared on your face as you beelined towards the large prism like container in the middle of the workplace, where he stood hitting, what you could only assume, were the start up buttons. Your eyes on him, and his eyes on the machine -with you safely in his peripherals- Gary was left to wheel over the box of supplies. His mumblings of something about third wheeling and losing his phone, all but faded to oblivion in your focus.

Stepping back from the small panel and towards yourself and Gary, Lars seemed to pause for a moment, glancing once between you and his chair that sat empty by the control screen. You brushed off the look he'd given as he began to speak, as a mutual offer between him, yourself and Gary, You'd chosen consciously however, to not plop down in it yourself.

Strangely, claiming his seat whenever he stood from it, felt like something you could only do in private, although it usually occurred when ten or so other scientists also occupied the space. You suppose, sitting there; your head in your hand, as you gawk up at him was a lot more obvious when the only other person in the room would be standing mere feet away.

Whilst you turned your own thoughts over in your head, Gary had taken the chair for himself, muttering out a cheeky, 'ya snooze ya lose'. While you were still mulling things over, Gary caught what you didn't; a flash of a glare passing over Lars' features as he paused his explanation.

Choosing to remain comfy, Gary shot the younger scientist a simple smile, before tilting his head in your direction. With one look to you, your in-your-head state was obvious and Lars was talking a step towards you, your name a whisper on his lips.

Snapping out of your thoughts, and meeting his eyes, you immediately rushed out an apology running shaky hands down your face as you promised to listen closely.

From there it was somewhat business as usual, Lars went about explaining his changes, with yourself, and Gary, asking prompting questions every once and a while. You'd resolved to simply enjoy his company as you usually would, extra company be damned. Sorry Gary.

Gaping up at him in the way you always did, you were yet again in awe of Lars. The way his eyes shone a little brighter when the machine worked perfectly and how he would always look eagerly to you a soft smile on his face. Ghost by ghoul, the three of you went about testing for a while, with Lars occasionally ducking his head towards the wiring or control panel to make some small adjustment, only to return with a beaming smile when the following test went by even faster.

Watching him work was always enjoyable. He was always either grinning like a fool or he had that small frown and furrowed brow that graced his features in a moment, usually quite brief, of struggle. All the same, even that echo of a scowl wasn't enough to diminish the glow you swore he gave off. Today was slightly different, there was no lab coat in sight, his goggles hung loosely around his neck and the top half of his jumpsuit had been tied 'round his waist. He seemed relaxed, at least if you ignored the tension that seemed to be holding his body together.

'Amazing' your murmured comment, and the countless like it, were more about him than his machine and whenever you caught his eyes with your own, you hoped he could see that. Gary, on the other hand was completely enthralled by the testing, rattling off compliments of his own with much higher frequency, mentions of the 'stellar efficiency' and 'innovative programming' which, I'm sad to say, went in one ear and out the other. Except, for when he managed to interrupt you in the midst of his enthusiasm, at which point he was met with yet another brief glare from the man of the hour.

The setting sun that bathed the three of you in warm tones of orange and yellow took you by surprise, and a quick glace to the box by your side revealed you had powered through more than three quarters of your supplies. You felt your shoulders fall considerably at this thought, now achingly aware you'd be expected to leave somewhat soon. Shocking you from your melancholy was the loud ring of Lars' phone, some 8-bit version of the Ghostbusters theme you'd set up on his phone some time ago, echoing about the space.

He hurriedly excused himself, and unwitting as usual your eyes lingered on the doorway he'd left through. Until a clambering of legs swung into your own, following them with an eyebrow raised you met Gary's stare as his own eyebrows wiggled fancifully. 'Soooo... I'm gonna get going, Callie just texted-' Catching him in a squinted glare you doubted '-didn't you say you'd lost your phone?'

'um-uh, okay so I'm just a little aware that you guys want to be alone.' His tone was anything but unsure, nevertheless he seemed hesitant to voice his concern.

'No don't go, I'm sorry I-I know I get a bit absorbed seeing him work, but he wants you here!' You'd felt horrible, you weren't aware how obvious you'd been.

'Its okay, I know you didn't mean to... Also I highly doubt Lars is all that happy about me being here.' You opened your mouth to argue but he shook his head simply as he continued. 'Winston invited me after Lars let him know he'd be here today, He didn't know until I got here and that half an hour before you arrived was tense enough.'

You supposed he was right, Lars had seemed pretty off earlier, but surely it wasn't that deep that Gary should leave. 'That's silly though, you're a scientist, if anyone is annoying him by hanging around surely its me... I mean I was asking all those inane questions.'

Your concern was met with the most well meaning, yet still a bit of a brush-off, cackle you'd heard from him, 'Except every one was met with a soft explanation and a confirmation that you understood, which wasn't exactly the response I've been getting. I doubt today was meant to be about the science as anything more than as a justification for inviting you over.'

Your brow furrowed at that, yourself and Lars had hung out before, you supposed it wasn't too frequently and it was usually a work outing where the two of you peeled off for a bit. Even so, why would he feel like he had to justify inviting you over?

'But we're friends, he knows he doesn't have to-' you stopped yourself as his footsteps reverberated through the halls, growing closer by the second.

Mid-way through turning your head to catch the doorway, Gary darted out of his chair. Stealing back your attention as he addressed yourself and you supposed lars, who you could imagine had stopped, lingering at the end of the hall at the other man's outburst. 'I've gotta get going, great seeing you guys... Good luck with the rest of the testing...' He was backing away now, towards the entryway, maneuvering around stray chairs and tables as he went. With a final flourish of a finger gun in Lars' direction, he was crossing the threshold and calling back over his shoulder. '...Not that you need it!'

You found yourself scoffing in disbelief as you continued to watch as the doors swung closed with a slam. Slowly turning on the spot you set sights on Lars. He was making his way over to you, shoulders still higher than usual, tight due to, as far as you could ascertain, the dramatic exit of the older man. Reaching out, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. As the slight weight of your hand settled on him you noted the relaxed fall of his shoulders, a sigh falling from his lips. Content with the slight ease in his demeanor you gave a slight squeeze and a hum of your own.

'So, should we get back to it?' Lars nodded, but otherwise remained completely still until you elected to remove your hand, at which point he spun on the spot and traipsed back over to the machine with a vigor that'd been notably absent all day.

Narrowing your eyes at the man in front of you, you watched as he returned to his regular As Seen On TV type demonstration. Now, with a pep in his step that you always found almost too intoxicating he placed a new object inside the chamber, closed it and started towards the computer.

'Hey, Lars? Can you level with me on something?' you hated to see how his movements stuttered to a halt at your vague interruption, but the question fell from your lips before you could think, 'Do you not like Gary?' His gaze seemed to flutter about the space, until his eyes were screwed shut, a shaky hand messing through his locks as his jaw dropped open, dancing silently in the nonexistent wind until you fixed him with pointed look and he suddenly found some words.

'I don't dislike him he's just very- He's smart it's just- its just that...' he trailed off, seemingly deciding to communicate through a jumpscare like gesture of his hands.

'He's very eager?' he nodded, glad you gotten his meaning, but he stilled when your head tilted ever so slightly.

'So am I.' With that thought your eyes had drifted from his, not shyly to the ground but dazed, as if fixed on some invisible specter only you could see. Your mind grew harsh faster than you'd care to admit, retroactively scanning every interaction with him against some intangible measure of frustration. There were surely times your presence slowed his work, distracting him with conversation or absurd what if's, not to mention the plethora of what you now realized must have been idiotic questions.

Surely he'd been speaking while you re-considered your very existence, but it wasn't until you felt the warmth of his hands on your shoulders that an ounce of sound managed to reach your brain.

'Hey, you okay there? You-you went blank on me.'

'I-um yeah -I just...' You had no clue what to say, how could you? Yeah sorry I was just thinking about how insufferable I must be to you, that came with a little spiraling as a treat.

Gathering that you'd most likely missed his in depth explanation of the difference between yourself and Gary from his perspective, Lars stepped away from you, considering the best way to dissolve the tension evident on your features. 'You and I, Us, we're not just colleagues, you don't just come to me to get new gadgets or answer some question you have... even if you do have a few. We're... something else, but when he's here its like he's extracting facts and figures, all the while you're just trying to understand me, m-my work. Its not his fault I- just I-'

'-Thought it was going to be just us today?' Cutting off his rambling you finally met his eyes. He shrugged nodding slightly as he held your gaze. 'If it makes it better?.. it is now.'

He released a bemused hmmf. 'I'll admit I wasn't the biggest fan of having to fight for your attention today. I'm pretty glad it is just the two of us again. Splitting your focus between me and my work is as much as I can handle.' Shaking your head in amusement at his sudden bluntness, you stepped towards him, a gentle hand against his chest, the eye contact mere inches long as you stood in his orbit.

'You are so oblivious... Trust me Lars there was not a moment that you weren't the nucleus of my afternoon.' A light groan was his only response to your overy-cheesy claim. 'No? what about...' you thought for a moment, tapping a finger to your chin.

'I'm much too weak to resist the gravity of your presence.' he narrowed his eyes at you own, looking for something you couldn't distinguish.

'Is that why you're in so close? My pull is too strong?' He didn't bother to cover the roll of his eyes or the teasing tone in his voice, but the smile that was paired with them was comfort enough to keep you talking.

'Mhmm You're just too enthralling Pinfield, you're gonna have to work on that if you want other people to be able to stand being around us'

Amidst all his scoffing and modest smiling, the blush that spung up across his cheeks was a sight for sore eyes, as his head lowered and he whispered into the paper thin space between you his tone even and resolute;

'Who says I'd ever want that?'

[slytherhys]

Too Sweet (for me) - Part I

A/N: everybody say thank you Hozier for releasing this song and for making me wanna write smut inspired by it. (this is a 2 parts oneshot and chapter II will be posted tomorrow! Enjoy :)

TW: explicit language; explicit sexual content

Part II

Word Count: 906 words | You can also find this story on AO3!

Red, fae lights flashed through the dimmed hall of the pleasure hall, each spark of light revealing bodies moving, dancing, grinding to the obnoxiously loud music as patrons lost themselves in each other’s unfamiliar touch. Azriel wasn’t sure if he was amused or appalled as he watched them from where he leaned against the bar, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. He settled on relieved that not a single familiar face looked back.

If the people around him were curious about why the court’s Spymaster was among them, they didn’t let it show. Other than the pretty fae looking his way with a coy smile every now and then, no one else seemed all that interested in his presence – which served him just right. He wasn’t particularly interested in making conversation. In fact, the very purpose of being here was to be able to forget about himself – about who he was, what and who he wanted – for just a single fucking moment.

He wasn’t sure he was being all that successful.

He signalled the barman for another glass, wondering if maybe the key to forgetting it all was to simply do as they all did – to get so shitfaced that the touch of a stranger wouldn’t repulse him, that his worries and doubts would disappear, drowned in a dangerous amount of alcohol that not even his Illyrian body would be able to burn through fast enough. Rhysand had seemed to think so.

Azriel wasn’t as convinced.

Not when, even three glasses of whiskey in, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. A kaleidoscope of memories haunted him each time he blinked, painting those empty, craving moments with images of her parted pink lips, her breath, warm and wet against his skin, her hooded brown eyes. How they fluttered shut when his scarred hand wrapped around her throat. A gentle yes so sweet, it had nearly sent him to his knees.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was entirely too fucking sweet for him. A lightness that he knew wasn’t for him, no matter how much he craved it. No matter how much he craved her. And, Mother, did he crave her.

But he couldn’t have her. That much, had been made pretty clear.

So Azriel gulped down his drink, wincing as it burned a path down his throat. He willed it to numb him, even if he knew how unlikely it was that he’d be able to burn her memory away from his brain. But that was why was here – to stop him from wanting what he couldn’t have. Or at least to forget about it. At least for the night, he could replace her satin skin for someone else’s, and maybe the rough touch of a stranger would wash away the memory of her soft hands and all the times they had held on to him. Maybe a night spent fucking someone new would make him forget about all the fucked-up, twisted fantasies of her tied to his bed and how they had brought him release.  

He eyed the pretty fae looking his way, eyed the dancefloor with its pumping heartbeat, an incitation promising all sorts of wicked things – and let himself go.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long it took him. Didn’t particularly care about anything but the wind on his face, the cold biting into his skin, sobering him up as he flew. He clenched his hands as he landed on a familiar garden, willing his heartbeat to slow the fuck down as he blinked away the darkness that suddenly seemed to surround him. He didn’t need to look around to know where he was – he knew exactly where he was. Knew the pansies and the violets and the gardenias that peppered up the front lawn just as he knew that there wasn’t a world where he could avoid her a second longer.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. He had no business being here, absolutely no business wanting her to open the front door, preferably dressed in her pink satin robe, cheeks rosy and a soft smile on her lips. He had no right to smile at the thought of her welcoming him into her home, into her bed, into her body. He had no right to listen to her sweet moans, to feel her panting against his naked skin as he slid into her–

“Are you coming in?” A sweet voice interrupted him, indecent thoughts coming to a halt. Azriel whirled around, taking in the sight in front of him. Shivers ran down his spine as he watched her watch him back. Leaning against the door, hair tousled and falling down her back, Elain Archeron was a fucking vision. Her cheeks were rosy, her arms crossed over her chest. Under her open, pink satin robe he could see a glimpse of lace that had him swallowing down every obscene thought going through his mind. Elain tilted her head, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about and wasn't particularly impressed. For a second, he wondered if she would take back her question and send him back to his apartment, but without waiting for a reply, she turned around and went back inside, leaving the front door wide open. An invitation if there ever was one.

He knew, without a doubt, he had no fucking right to follow her inside.

And yet, he did.

[inoreuct]

I've been loving your ZoSan drabbles, they honestly make my day. I do have a potential drabble request if you'd like: I feel like these two idiots tease each other mercilessly for the dumbest things, like an old married couple. It's almost a game for the rest of the crew to how long it takes them to turn the teasing into either flirting or kissing. It's peak entertainment for the crew

thank you so much??$4!;7:)3 I’M SO GLAD TO HEAR THAT and yes. absolutely. I FLEW TO MY DOCS TO WRITE THIS AND IT WAS SO FUN. the tension is through the roof; not even with the bickering but the teasing. it’s playful and easy and they’re more fond than they should be and is an insult really an insult if it’s said with a smile? anyway. enjoy 😽

“Oho! The world’s greatest swordsman can’t handle a kitchen knife!” Sanji has his hands propped on his hips, faux-flabbergasted and crowing like a town crier. Zoro looks about three seconds away from chopping him up with said kitchen knife instead of the carrots on the countertop. Usopp fears for the cook’s safety.

“Do you think we should… do something?” he turns and whispers gingerly, leaning across his mug of tea so that Nami can hear him from where she’s seated across the table. 

“Something like preventing a possible murder, or getting them to finally kiss? Because…” She takes a pointed slurp from her own mug, her amused gaze fixed on the way Zoro is now animatedly arguing back. “We could do both. Or neither. I’m entertained either way.”

Usopp turns back around, hiding his face in his drink as he eavesdrops shamelessly. He must have missed some conversation, because now Zoro’s sniping about Sanji’s hair, of all things. How they got so far from the original topic in such a short time? Usopp does not know. 

“Well, at least I don’t spend an hour rubbing conditioner on my head,” Zoro scoffs, and Sanji gasps like the swordsman had just cussed out his entire family three generations up and down.

“And that, my dear marimo, is why it looks like a lawn,” he declares with a prim sniff, flicking the tap on with a flourish. “An untrimmed lawn. That a dog ran all over.”

“Wh—”

“No, no,” he laments, scrubbing at a dish in the most melodramatic way Usopp has seen in his life. “A pack of dogs. And they shat all over it, too.”

Zoro puffs up like an angry cat, clearly winding up to verbally throw down, and Usopp turns around to find Nami smirking at him with her eyebrows raised as if to say, see what I mean?

“This is incredible,” he whisper-shouts, amazed.

I know, she mouths delightedly, eyes shining like golden coins.

“What are we talking about,” Luffy hisses, and Usopp damn near jumps out of his skin.

“Great Mother Ocean, when did you get here?!” he nearly squawks, pulling his volume down at the last second, just in time to hear a victorious “and that is why no crab in its right mind would ever want to eat you!” from Zoro. He doesn’t even bother to question it anymore.

Luffy shrugs, biting into an apple with a satisfying crunch. “Like two seconds ago. Are Zoro and Sanji fighting again?”

“More like flirting,” Nami laughs, gesturing with her chin. 

Usopp gives up on straining his neck and gets up to straddle the chair properly. The convo has somehow turned back to hair; Sanji has one hand plucking delicately at green strands, the other covered in soap.

“Keep talking shit about my brows and see if I will,” he says haughtily, and Usopp strains his ears for context as Zoro bares his teeth in a grin, his eye twitching.

“As if I want you to cut it. You’d probably make it all uneven.”

A dry ha! “That’d be an improvement.”

The sniper whips around wildly to look at Nami. Either he’s hearing things, or they sound almost… fond. The way their navigator’s sitting forward in her chair hints at the latter. Luffy bites into his apple again, mumbling, “Why haven’t they kissed yet?” 

Usopp explodes into a flurry of desperate hand movements, mouthing exactly! Exactly! so enthusiastically that his cheeks hurt. 

His captain smiles and then pauses, tilting his head. “Have they kissed yet?”

Usopp’s worldview shatters into shards that then start rearranging themselves because that is a very real possibility. Sanji and Zoro have been bickering ever since before the cook came aboard the Merry, but somewhere along the line it had turned to something more lighthearted, less I’m-gonna-gut-you-like-a-fish-and-have-your-entrails-for-breakfast and more you’re-so-damn-annoying-sit-down-and-let-me-help-you.

The three of them turn in unison to stare at how Sanji and Zoro are now nose to nose, Sanji peering down the scant half-inch he has above the swordsman in height with a smug smile and murmuring “—not what you were saying last week, marimo.”

Zoro tips his head, not backing down even as Sanji cooes at him and somehow, somehow, it doesn’t sound condescending. Usopp is losing his mind. “Never said that, curly-brow. You were the one who filled in the blanks.”

“You left blanks for me to fill in.”

“You’re delusional. There’s gas in your brain, that’s why your head’s so big.” 

“Oh, yeah?” the cook grins, lazy and bright, eyebrows going up as Zoro steps into his space. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Zoro smirks and tilts his head back. “I don’t know. You tell me,” he murmurs, before pulling away and dropping a whole stack of dirty crockery into the sink. “Better get to washing, dish boy.”

Usopp’s eyes are bugging out of his head as Sanji yells and sprays Zoro with water from the pullout tap, sparking a whole new round of squabbling and ankle-kicking and wayward elbows.

“You’re seeing this, right?” he asks desperately, turning around in his seat and gripping the edge of the table. Gosh, he’s feeling light-headed. “I’m not going crazy?”

“Nope,” Nami sighs, popping the ‘p’. “Wanna bet?”

“On?” Luffy shuffles closer, grinning around his apple and she shrugs a shoulder, feigning disinterest. 

“How long it takes dumb and dumber to get their shit together.” 

Usopp really doesn’t know how much he’d be willing to put into this. The way that they fight’s more pigtail-pulling than anything, and that in and of itself is telling— Not to mention, again, how this has been going on for months. Sanji would give Zoro shit for being messy but then go to clean anyway, only to find Zoro’s things already packed. Zoro would snip at the cook for being rigid about dessert before dinner and then find a slice of sour raspberry tart on his bunk, way after teatime was over. Usopp had honestly thought they’d been doing it out of spite, but now…

Then again, with how repressed the both of them were? “…A hundred berry, one month,” he decides, and Nami wrinkles her nose.

“Stingy,” she complains, but she’s hiding a smile as she turns to their captain. “Luffy?”

The boy hums thoughtfully, twisting around. “Are you two kissing?” he yells, and Usopp’s heart fucking drops to the floorboards as the pair stares at them wide-eyed and bursts into protests.

“What— this idiot?”

“The hell? No! Why would you—”

“—on any planet would I ever—”

“Absolutely fucking not. His refined palate—”

“—His brains are in his biceps—”

“Okay,” Luffy says, shrugging as he finishes the last of his apple, core and all, and flings a singular seed into the tiny bin by the sink with startling precision. “Five hundred, two weeks.” 

Usopp can’t help it. He bursts into laughter, smacking his forehead into the tabletop as he clutches at his stomach and the twinge in his ribs. He can hear Sanji’s panicked shouts of “what? What were you betting on? Usopp, tell me now—” and Zoro growling, “Luffy, I swear if this is what I think it is—” and oh. 

The sniper grins into the table. Oho. Did that not imply that Zoro knew something was going on? He could be wrong, but— “Seven-fifty, one week.”

“A thousand!” Luffy counters immediately, and Usopp cackles helplessly because he knows that his captain’s just shouting out numbers now, Luffy doesn’t even have the money. 

“How about we spill the beans on what the hell we’re betting on, and I make us all a special dinner, hm?” Sanji pleads, and it’s honestly funny how hard he’s trying to find out. 

“Absolutely not,” Nami replies, her grin saccharine sweet. “A joint bet of one thousand, seven hundred and fifty berry for one week. Y’know,” she studies her cuticles, pursing her lips in an unbothered moue, “This is the one time that I’d be happy not to collect. Don’t let me down, hm?” She gets up and slides out the galley door, and they hear her laughing all the way down the hall. 

Zoro looks like he’s about to have a conniption. Sanji has his hands buried in his hair, looking up at the ceiling and turning around like he’s begging for a divine answer. Usopp and Luffy share a gleeful look.

This is going to be a marvellously interesting week.

fin.

[spiderrrling]

Seventeen - JD! Eddie x Veronica! Reader

you guys aren't going to believe who it is....me with writing

this is part of my unfinished vip that is theatre kid! Eddie x theatre kid! reader where they play JD and Veronica from Heathers

note: this is unedited in rough writing stages, its not even proofread but I wanted to post it!!

"you know, for this to work you're gonna have to get close to me at some point"

"You- you're right," the admission left your lips with a breath of air which seemed to deflate you more than it probably should have.

"So what's the problem here?" Eddie leant against your wall, seemingly trying to put as much distance between the two of you as he could, which admittedly wasn't much. "And don't tell me there isn't one."

He was right, of course. He'd picked up on it all and if you were being honest you weren't shocked.

Sitting across from him in a booth in the diner, or in the passenger seat of his car. The nerves and excitement still churned in your stomach but it wasn't the same as the heavy panic that seemed to set in whenever he was close, too close.

"Its just that-" the words did not want to come, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as you looked away from him, staring directly at your door, "I've never been...kissed?" 

You realized how pathetic you must have sounded, the words sounding more like a question rather than an admission of complete lack of experience.

Only daring to look back at him when you heard him breathe out a soft laugh. His doe brown eyes soft as they met yours, his fingers playing with the rings on his hand nervously, it was calming not being the only nervous one for once.

"And this is not how you expected it to go?" There he went again, reading you like an open playbook.

"Yeah,"

"With me?" The look in his eyes said so much more than his words ever could, with *me* he'd said. Eddie Munson, town freak.

"With anyone," you refuted his point, and it wasn't a complete lie.

"Well, we can't have that now can we?" The mischief sparked up his eyes and tugged at the corner of his lips, scrunching his nose ever so slightly. "So.... we need a plan."

Eddie turned around, his eyes scanning across your bookshelf, fingers trailing the dustry shelves as his eyes wildly flew from title to tile blindly searching for something, he knew what he was looking for but he had no idea what it might look like.

"What- what exactly are you doing?" Words seemed to be getting stuck in your throat, this was new territory, unchoreographed scenes where you had no idea what would come next.

"Looking for inspiration..." Eddie seemed almost lost in his own plans and schemes as his words trailed off. "Romance novels, a script, something... a diary," he turned back around to face you, the mischievous grin bigger than before, eyebrows raised.

"A diary?" 

"What you're not a hopeless romantic who rambles about being kissed by the perfect guy?" 

"What no- no!" You could not believe this was the conversation you were having, hands covering your face and you weren't sure if it was due to the utter disbelief or the embarrassment.

"No you're not a hopeless romantic or no don't write about it in your diary?"

"Who's to even say I have a diary?" 

"So that's yes to both, where is it?" He looked almost like a little kid, nearly giddy with what you could only describe as devious plans. It took all your might to keep your eyes on Eddie and to not look at your bedside table

"Eddie, you're not reading my diary,"

"So you admit it, you have fantasized about it,"

"Ok fantazised is a very strong word,"

"If you won't let me read, will you at least tell me?" He sat down across from you on the bed, his legs crossed, picking up one of your pillows into his lap, and you couldn't help but think just how out of place he looked, but he seemed so at home. There seemed to be something almost genuine in his eyes, yet you were terrified to trust him completely. "I promise I won't laugh, I have no reason to." 

Almost on instinct he held out his pinkie to you, his smile vanished for just a minute to really show you he meant business.

"C'mon, it's just me, I'm nothing dangerous." You swore he grinned like the devil when he said that, and maybe that's why you took his pinkie in your own.

You let yourself fall onto your back, eyes sliding shut, once again not being able to look at him.

"I don't think I ever actually imagined it...more than like wanting it to be special, with someone I like..." teeth dug into your bottom lip, guarding your words carefully before you continued, "and it would be natural, not forced, like I'd be laughing from something they said and they'd just lean over and kiss me, and that's all it would be." 

He didn't say anything, but you felt the mattress dip next to you from his weight, laying shoulder to shoulder with you and you realize it's the closest the two of you ever have been to each other, and the alarm bells in your mind weren't going off, the panic wasn't building. It was nice.

"You didn't laugh," you open one eye and glance over at him just to find his eyes closed.

"I promised, didn't I?" Something about that made your thoughts stand still, go into a quiet, comfortable lull, it made breathing just a little bit easier.

"So... Do you like me?" Now that question caught you off guard and you found yourself instinctively move away from him just a little bit. "Nono stay, it's nice having you not tense up whenever I get close, and no- not like *that*, as a friend, a person if you will."

"You're not half bad, I suppose," it felt good to smile because of him, there was something really easy about it.

"You suppose?!" The fake hurt dripping from his voice is infatuation and you cannot help but laugh, you feel his hand leave yours and you see him grabbing one of the teddy bears off your bed, "she supposes!" he exlaims while looking the bear right in the eyes.

Eddie uses his fingers to manipulate the bear to life, moving the bear to look at you next.

"Yeah, I guess."

"And now she guesses!"

"Well, if I am not so half bad then?" He turned on the mattress, laying to face you, but you were still struggling to gather the courage to actually look him in the eye.

"Then what?" You folded your hands over your stomach, linking your fingers together, trying your best to stay composed because deep down you knew what was coming next.

"You know what I am asking," his voice was soft, calm, not at all what you had expected.

"Here? Now?" The realization of what he might mean dawned on you, and as if almost on cue, the same pit of anxiety started growing in your stomach, making your mouth dry and making your limbs go numb.

"No- no, let me take you out," he laid back down on the bed, prying your fingers appart and grabbing your hand, it was as if he had figured out how to make you comforable, "as friends, don't go thinking anything else, and I'll make it special."

"Special, only as friends," you repeated quietly, your eyes drifting back to the light fixture bolted to your ceiling, taking deep, slow breaths. "When? Because with rehersals and school, you know I have a very busy schedule-"

"Thursday, we're supposed to run lines anyway so I know you're free," you didn't have to look at him to know he was smiling, you could hear it in his voice. "And before you say anything, you will still live if we skip one afternoon of running lines to kiss me."

"You're sure?" 

"About the kiss or the lines?"

"Both." It was your turn to make him laugh, a genuine laugh from a genuine joke, not laughing at your lack of experience, an actual laugh. A deep chuckle from his chest. It felt good.

"Mmmh, I'll do my best but no promises,"

"Can I ask you something?"

"I'm an open book," you didn't doubt what he said, as long as you had the courage to ask you fully believed Eddie would tell you the truth.

"How many people have you kissed?" You put your finger on what exactly had changed between you, but there was now a lightnes hanging in the space you were sharing with Eddie. It was easier to breathe, as long as you kept your eyes fixated on the ceiling.

"Me? Why'd you wanna know?" That stupid coy smile was back on his lips, the exact kind that seemed to get under your skin a little too easily.

"I suppose I just need to know if theres like a mountain of people I need to compete with here,"

And he laughed, that same laugh that made everything in the air between you feel lighter, an atmosphere where it became easier to breathe.

"Me? A mountain?" You can still hear the laugh in his voice as he speaks, "you are aware of well, this?" he quickly gestures to all of himself, the harsh denim, leather and metal combination that makes up so much of his wardrobe.

And you can't help but feel just a little bit stupid, you weren't blindly unaware as to his social standing in the general town of Hawkins, but it was still Eddie. Someone who had an air of efortlessness around him, and he wasn't bad looking, just maybe not what you would class as the typical highschool look.

But you had also heard the swirling rumors, the resident outcast didn't only come with rumors of satanism and devil worship.

And all of it weren't rumors, you had seen it with your own eyes, the looks between him and Natalie last year, their failed attempts of hiding quick kisses backstage between calls. So there had been at least one. You knew that.

Had he been laying on her bed last year? Fingers laced and sharing secrets just as you were now. Had he given her her first kiss?

"Ok yeah fair enough Mr president of the Hellfire Club," you laugh and do your best to elbow him in the ribcage, "but you still have, right?"

"Yeah, of course I have-," he pauses for a moment, his hand immediately coming up to cover his eyes when he realized what he had said, "not- not of course like *that* more like yes I have, you know what I mean? Right?"

There was something ever so slightly satisfying about seeing Eddie Munson be the flustered one out of the two of you for once. With his hand pulled over his eyes and you swore you could see just the slightest amount of pink in his cheeks.

"I know," you quickly squeeze his other and which you are still holding in yours.

"But for your reference, I prefer master of the Hellfire Club, not president," you know he is joking, but you cant help but wonder if he does actually mean it deep down. You don't know much about the Hellfire Club, other than the alledged rumors they're responsible for all the weird things going on in Hawkins.

And a part of you is intrigued, it's near impossible to miss the props they use for their game when you're backstage, the big, black, wooden throne Eddie stored along with a handpainted banner of their logo had made you stop and look on more than one occation.

"Whatever you say, master of Hellfire Club." And thats all you say for a minute, for the first time you didn't feel the need to fill the empty space between you with lines or questions, the silence was comfort enough for once.

"Do you find it weird I haven't?" For the first time you do more than sneak a quick glance at him, turning your head on the mattress you can see his profile, the mess of his dark tangle of curls laying right next to you. "Kissed anyone, that is," you add quickly.

"Weird? No, I know you're weird but not because of that," you feel his elbow nudge you in the side, and you can't help but laugh, "I was more surprised."

"Surprised?" Did that mean he had thought about you?

"Yeah, just didn't expect you to not have been kissed," he stopped for a second, carefully trying to detangle the web of questions it seems he wants to ask, "didn't James ask you to homecoming or whatever?"

"Oh- no, I mean he did, ask me that is, but I didn't go with him," you stumble over your words as they hapazardly leave your lips, suddenly wanting nothing more than to sink into your bed and never resurface.

He's quiet, just for a moment, what you have realized is that rarely anything ever truly quiet when it comes to Eddie, "Sooo, why didn't you go?"

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Wouldn't want anything else,"

"I kinda didn't want to?"

"Once again, you surprise me," and there he went again, carefully difusing the immediate anxiety that built in your stomach.

"But you still want to go with me? Tomorrow?"

"Yeah- yeah of course," you do your best to sound sure of yourself, of your own words, but there is still the unexplicable anxiety festering in your stomach with every passing second. Where part of you wishes he would just kiss you, right here, right now.

Getting it over with would be better than another restless night of wonder filled anxiety.

Maybe you could be friends with Eddie Munson, laughing in a booth between the sharing of scripted lines, laying on your bed sharing innocent secrets you havent told anyone else, listening to his newest music concotion he's created on a mixed tape in his car.

Yeah, that shouldn't be too hard.

----

Two days had passed, two entire days had come and gone. And your sheets still smelled like Eddie Munson.

The dark scents still hung onto the soft sheets, to your bear, your pillow. Every breath you take was as if he was stil laying beside you as you swapped secrets.

It had become another reminder of just how entangled he was becoming in your life. It was astonishing how quickly someone could establish themselves in your life.

Which is why the slight pang in your chest at the thought of his scent slowly dwindling was making more sense with every passing moment. Not that you were fully ready to admit that to yourself just yet.

"You're gonna skip rehersals,"

"But-"

"Consider it a type of rehersal then if you will," he was quick to dispute your protests, and he was right. This was a step you had to cross, "You're gonna go home, do whatever you want to do, get dressed up, do your makeup, anything,"

"And then, I am going to pick you up,"

"Do I get to know where you're taking me?"

"No, that is a surprise,"

You probably shouldn't be surprised to see Eddie standing beneath your window with a handfull of pebbles guarded carefully in his hand, along with his normal michevious smile.

"What are you doing!" You whisper shout down at him, why you're not really sure, but it felt like the appropriate thing to do.

"I'm here to pick you up!" He said it like it was the most normal thing in the whole world, but there was something different about him, you could tell even at a distance, but exactly what you werent sure of yet, "isn't this what they do in all of the movies?"

You wanted to dipute it, throw some snarky comment back at him and hope in exhange he would laugh, but you couldn't. He was doing this for you.

"Just know, I'm not climbing out the window I am going out the front door,"

"It's your night princess," He said just before attempting a small bow, earning laughs from both of you.

The butterflies were back, but they didn't gnaw at your stomach like the nerves did, they were unsetteling in their own terrifying way.

"My lady," Eddie opened the passenger door for you, just as one would a carriage and gestured for you to get in, "your evening awaits."

You didn't say anything, you struggled with telling if it was the nerves or fi it was the excitement making your head spin ever so slightly.

Only climbing into the passenger seat of Eddie's old dinged up van.

"You know...technically since you haven't told me where we are going this could be considered kidnapping,"

"Technically," Eddie held up a finger, but he didn't look at you, not even a quick glance, his eyes were glued to the road in front, "you got in the car willingly."

"And you're still not planning on telling me where you are taking me?"

"Do you not understand the concept of a surprise?" his tone was never mean, never condecending, always the same level of playfull and easiness to his voice.

You only rolled your eyes at him, with every turn of the car you tried to detangle the clues as to where he actually was taking you.

There wasn't much to the town of Hawkins, and it did not matter how long you lived there, somehow there was always a new spot, a new something to be discovered.

When he finally stopped the car it felt as if you had been there for years, but it couldn't have been more than a couple minutes tops.

For once the silence sitting between you felt comfortable, normal. Not the same way it used to feel suffocating.

"Here?"

"No, not just yet, but I'm gonna need you to close your eyes,"

"Close my eyes?" 

"Yes ma'am,"

"Why?"

"You're still not understanding the concept of surprises I see,"

You roll your eyes at him and do as he says, even bringing your hands up to cover your eyes. "Happy?" you ask, turning as if to look at him, and his reasounding laughter leaves you with a smile on your lips.

"Very."

You feel the car start to move again, trust. This all had to be some weird trust exersice for the two of you that he had deviced.

Your sense of distance was well... distorted, to say the least. Any semblance of ideas where he might take you was completely gone, because now you could be just about anywhere. If there even was an anywhere in Hawkins, there was barely a somewhere.

"Okok, wait here," Eddie said as the car finally stopped and you heard him open the driver door. The door next to you swung open, and you knew he was right there next to you. "Give me your hand, but don't open your eyes!"

Giving up at resisting you fumble around blindly untill you find Eddies hand and he holds it firmly in his own as he helps you out of the car.

"Ok, right here," he moves to stand behind you, your hand still in his, and you open your eyes. "Ta-da."

You take a second adjusting to the harsh light, blinking a couple of times before you can begin to orient yourself. A lake?

"Do you like it?" 

"It's a lake,"

"Yes, but do you like it?"

"Eddie, it's a lake, I don't particularly have strong feelings about a lake,"

"Nonono, not any lake, lovers lake," he's moved to stand in front of you and you have to hold back from laughing. Obvious, you probably should have guessed. "I've brought marshmallows, thought we'd make a fire."

He doesn't let you say anything before he starts working on his grand plan, only gestures for you to sit down.

The unforgiving summer temperatures in Indiana had slowly lulled into a cooler fall, but there were still traces of the last summer everywhere. There was still those hints of the sweet summer air left only just starting to be undercut by the sharp chill air of fall.

With the stars hanging low in the sky reflected in the lake. Lover lake. Of all places.

It might have been a bit obvious, but there was something satisfying about a cliche.

"Sooo, how do you know about this place?" you sit down in the back of the van, letting your legs dangle over the edge of the bed.

"My uncle, he used to take me here during the summer, taught me all the manly things," you have to hold back laughter as you look at him, hunched over, with his toungue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, "fishing, firing a gun, and luckily for you, how to start a fire."

"Well thank you Mr. Munson," 

He never mentioned his parents, only ever his uncle. There wasn't really much you knew about Eddie Munson besides the surface level tuff and circulating gossip and rumors.

He lived in the trailer park of Curley, with his uncle, who worked the night shift somewhere. You knew that he broke his last romantic stage partners heart once the show was over. 

He was a tennor with a good vocal range and had been in just about every theatre production Hawkins High had to offer.

Oh, and that there was always a low level chance he was part of a devil worshiping cult.

Exactly the kind of person you would want to be alone in the woods with, late at night, when no one knew where you were.

Deep down you knew that he wasn't a devil worshiper, but that also wasn't what made you the most anxious.

Glancing over at him it was easy to forget all the things people said about Eddie Munson, when he was here next to you without the constant noise from the people of Hawkins.

Here you could trace the soft lines of his face with the quick stolen glances you allowed yourself, watching the long shadows grow on his face with passing time.

"So why did you pick this place?" Your legs dangled over the edge of the van, sitting on the threadbare blanket Eddie kept in the back, your eyes wandering over the water, trying your best not to look at him as he worked.

"I thought you would like it, it's quiet but there's always something going on," Eddie sat down next to you, and you had to actively keep reminding yourself to not reach for his hand the way he had reached for yours the other day, "it kinda reminds me of you in that way."

Suddenly, you were happy with the dimming light and the soft orange glow from the fire as you hoped it would camoflague at least some of the blush that grew on your face.

"I do- like it," 

"Good, and-" Eddie reached for something behind him, rummaging through his bag to find what he was looking for, "this, is for you."

He held out a small package in front of you, wrapped with what had to be left over holiday paper, with probably more tape than paper in the end.

"Don't judge my wrapping skills, as you well know my talents lie elsewhere." He said as you carefully picked the package out of his hands, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"It's a mixtape-" you said, turning it over in your hands, there was no writing on it like there normally was, just a blank casette.

"No, it's our mixtape," Eddie snatched the tape from out of your hands before quickly jumping out of the back of the van so he could place it in the stereo. "I made it for you."

"You made me a mixtape?" You couldn't tell in your own voice if it was surprise or disbelief, you had seen the box of his tapes in the van but you never expected him to make you one. Wondering what exactly Eddie Munson would put on a first kiss mixtape.

But once again, you find yourself surprised at the workings of his mind. Slow, carefully crafted music started pouring from the static speakers.

"My lady," Eddie stood in front of you, repeating the nickname from earlier and holding out his hand for you to take. "You do dance, right?"

You reach for the hand he offered you, letting him help you to your feet and suddenly you find yourself closer to Eddie than you had expected.

One of his arms wrapped around your waist, the other still holding your hand tightly in his. Carefully, you place your free hand ovr his shoulder, resisting the temptation to play with his curls.

"Happy now?" You ask as you smile up at him, being mindful of where you were placing your feet on the rough and uneven ground.

"Well, you didn't flinch this time," you move slowly together as Eddie coreographs your movements, swaying you side to side in time with the music. "So I'll take that as a win."

You had danced with Eddie before, but never like this. Always awkward steps as you both learned choreography to a number a comfortable distance apart.

Never wrapped in his arms slowly swaying to static music from an old car radio.

"Do you dance much Eddie?" You laugh as he stumbles over a root sticking out of the ground.

"Normally no- but for pretty girls who need their first kiss, I make exeptions."

"You're ridiculous," 

"And you're beautiful."

You knew he was just saying it, part of the whole pantomime to make the whole ordeal special for you.

But that didn't mean you were completely blind to the charm of his empty words.

"See look at you, you're a natural," Eddie said as he guided you to twirl, careful to never let go of your hand.

You take turns stealing glances at one another, anticipating when he is not looking so you can steal the next one, carefully studying every milieter of his face with a million hurried looks.

Something about him looked so at peace, his dark brown eyes looking almost black in the dimming light, the same careful carefree smile on his lips.

His fingers splayed against your lower back locking you into his every movement, the small comforts of it all.

Eddie was just a friend, but he looked so pretty, with those long dark eyelashes resting against his cheek as he closed his eyes.

You feel the need to look around, despite knowing no one is watching you, it feels like breaking the rules when you stand up on your tip toes and quickly press your lips against his.

It's not even a second, and yet your heart is racing so fast you can feel it through your entire body, eyes sliding shut as you quickly realize you do not dare look at him.

"That's not a real kiss," there seems to be almost a twinge of disbelief in his voice, and you can feel his hot breath against your face as he speaks, but you don't dare open your eyes, "doesn't count."

You feel his hand slide into your hair, cupping the side of your face and pulling you towards him, closing the small space between you.

The arm around your waist tightens, bringing your body closer to his and he stops swaying with the music. And just like that he is kissing you, properly, this time.

You have no idea what to do, letting him take the lead as you carefully lean into him just that little bit more.

His lips moving against yours, carefully, as if he's worried if he goes too fast you'll fall apart right in front of his eyes, and maybe he isn't wrong.

It was the kind of kiss that made you long for the promise of more.

When his lips leave yours it feels as if an eternity had passed, and only one thought hangs stranded in your mind. Friends.

You're just friends with Eddie Munson. He was just doing you a favor, a strange, maybe slightly fucked up favor, something that also served his interests.

And thats what stops you from leaning into him again, despite the soft look in his dark brown eyes when he finally opens them, despite the giggly feeling that was making your head spin, despite really wanting to.

The last rays of the evening sun cast long shadows across his face, and for the first time Eddie wasn't the picture everyone made him to be, he finally looked like Eddie.

You had no idea what to say, where to even begin, but it seemed Eddie took the smile on your face as confirmation enough. His own smile was infatuating, it seemed genuine.

His hand was still tangled in your hair, and his touch seemed to linger on you, carefully holding you together in one piece within the embrace of his arms.

"Not too bad right?"

"I suppose since you had a mountain of girls to practice on," you laugh as you place your head against his chest, hearing each beat of his heart.

"Once again with the supposing," he gives your hand a quick squeeze, both of you seeming to find peace in your old inside jokes.

"Thank you," you look up at him through your eyelashes, giving him what you hope is a reassuring smile.

"Nothing to thank me for," and as he speaks the reality of the situation hits you again, the uncomfortable reality that you're both playing a part for a role.

There is nothing to thank him for, because this also serves his own self interest. You do your best to push away the pang of pain that hits you right in the chest.

Ignoring the screaming thoughts of distrust that seemed to race through your mind faster than you knew how to tame them.

Because there was still that part of you that wanted to believe Eddie and everything he said. That he was doing this because he genuinely cared for you. Not because he had a role to fulfill, and you stood in the way of making that happen.

Did he take Natalie down here? Make her a mixtape of slow songs they danced to? Was what they had real? While what you had with Eddie was nothing but pretend from all sides?

Mostly, pretend. That is.

"Now- one more surprise," Eddie's words pull you out of your spiral before he carefully untangled his body from yours, dropping your hand, hand leaving your waist, and quickly you realized just how cold the night had grown.

"One more?" You could only see his back as he pulled out something else from his bag, "you really had this planned out," you say to no one in particular, the words hanging empty in the space between the two of you.

"Ta-daa," he finally says as he turns around, presenting you with his copy of the script, and you can't help but laugh. Of course.

"I- I didn't bring my script," you blurt out, which is true. You're resisting again,and you would like to claim you didn't know why, but you knew the more time you spent with Eddie the more difficult it was becoming to distinguish blurred lines.

"You and I both know that you don't need it," Eddie pats the space next to him as he sits down in the back of the van, leaned against the back of the drivers seat, "we'll just share mine."

You sit down next to him, trying to keep at least some space between him and yourself, but before you can fully process what is happening he has snaked an arm around your waist and you've ended up right next to him.

Eddie holds up the script in front of you, using both hands to try and keep it stable, the orange glow of the small camp fire doing it's best to illuminate the pages between you.

You couldn't be less focused, he is so close, he is everywhere. His arms around you once again, but so differently to just a few minutes ago.

Your eyes scan the script in front of you, slowly trying to untangle the notes he has left hapazardly in the margins with messy handwriting. You also spot more than one small drawing along the sides, covering up the first few words of text.

Yeah, it was definetively Eddie Munsons script you were looking at.

Reciting lines with him could quickly become a game, you'd imagine little people watching you as you bounced the ball back and fourth between you. That same rythmn you had found before returned, Chemistry X PERSON had called it.

You just chucked it up to Eddie being a really good scene partner. Which wasn't wrong.

You don't know for how long you sit there bouncing lines back and fourth between you, you've come to find that time spent with Eddie is rarely linear in the way you would normally expect it to be.

But you don't remember falling asleep, you remember mumbled words mentioning going home, and you don't remember when you wiggled even closer to him.

But you do remember waking up, still with Eddies arms wrapped around you, with the first rays of the morning sun peeking up over the horizon, and the final embers of the fire 

And you barely remember the car ride home, struggling to keep your eyes open, Eddie in the drivers seat with his eyes fixated on the road.

And you remember what he said as he dropped you off.

"Hey," he says, making you turn around before shutting the car door, "you've kissed, and also slept with me, all in one night."

"I think you might be a bad influence," you say to him before laughing, it's all so ridiculous.

"I wouldn't want to be anything else," he winks before you hurridly close the door.

My loveliest mutuals: @uglypastels @catastrofhe @indouloureux @mypoisonedvine @luveline @hellfiremunsonn @babybluebex

[eruden-writes]

Scent Match - Part 2

(Note: Started with an anon asking for the phrase prompt, "Oh. Oh.")

Summary: When Amber Dyer decided to attend a Creator Con, she never expected to run into Of Wolf and Blood lycan hearthrob, Augustine Prime.

But, there he was, stooping over her table, asking to buy the unflattering drawing of his character. Valuing integrity over taking money from a celebrity and running (though she was sorely tempted,) Amber finishes the sketch and delivers it to Augustine.

However, he continues to doggedly pursue her and entwine their lives.

All because of her scent.

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Previous | Masterlist

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Hours later, Amber found herself sitting on a bench in the corridor that led to the VIP section. It had to be a large meeting hall, she decided, after a bit of watching. Con staff flew in and out of the door, some bringing in food and drink while others checked papers on clipboards while appearing stressed. Thanks to room dividers expertly placed just inside the doorway, no wayward fans could even glimpse the bigshots inside.

Anxiety clawed up her back as she stared down at the sketchbook laying atop her thick thighs. For now, it was closed, but she could feel the damned drawing burning a hole in her sense of propriety. She really should just forget about this. Augustine paid upfront and likely wouldn’t even remember her or her silly little art. 

“So are we going in?” Next to Amber, Addie piped up. She twirled her bright pink curls - a voluminous wig - around her index finger while noisily snapping her gum. Beside her friend, Amber felt a little dull in her jeans and tee-shirt and hoodie. Addie had brought her A+ cosplay game with the low-cut and high-hemline intricate dress of a popular character from a dating sim.

Closing her eyes, Amber took a steadying breath. Her friend refused to be left at the booth while she made this particular delivery. Which meant Amber had to wait near Artist Alley closing to give Augustine his… commission. Though she couldn't blame Maddie for her disbelief. Amber barely believed her story herself. “Give me a minute.” 

“This isn’t helping your credibility, Amby," Addie giggled, a wry grin curled at her lips. 

When Amber's eyes opened she shot Addie a frown. This had been a repeated topic of conversation since Maddie heard what happened. “How else do you think our cashbox was so much heavier?” 

“Good question." Addie leaned back, making a show of considering Amber's words with a chin-stroking hand and over-the-top hum. With a snap of her fingers, she grinned at Amber and wiggled her eyebrows as she guessed, “Maybe you did do a commission for someone while I was gone, but not for Augustine Prime. Did you take my advice and start taking NSFW comms?” 

“No, I haven’t.” Not that Amber hadn't considered that potentiality, but it wasn't exactly something she wanted to discuss in the middle of a busy hall.

That was the kick in the pants she needed to get moving. Pushing herself to her feet, Amber strode to the attendant near the door, Maddie trotting behind her.

The con staff by the door was a burly gargoyle, expression seemingly in a perpetual state of 'extremely not impressed.' They watched silently as Amber approached, only inclining their head as they asked, “Name and reason for entry?” 

“A-Amber Dyer. I have a commission for Augustine Prime.” Trying not to feel like she was raising a shield, Amber held up her sketchbook. She immediately regretted that, as well. It was like a prop for a weak lie.

The attendant raised an eyebrow. “Do you now?” 

Amber pressed her lips tightly together, before raising her chin. “Yes.” 

Evidently put out, the gargoyle sighed and held out their hand. “We will make sure he receives it.” 

“Fine,” she said after a beat of thought. They likely had to deal with all sorts of fans with harebrained schemes to get in and see their favorite stars. There was no point pressing the issue. If they throw her drawing away, she had already gotten paid, as well.

Having already paper clipped the drawing to a receipt and one of her business cards, Amber held the small stack to the attendant. “Can you please give him the art and his receipt?” 

With a heavy sigh and a roll of their eyes, the attendant glanced down at both the drawing and the paper. Their expression pinched at the sight of the less-than-flattering caricature of Mr. Prime’s infamous character, their gaze flickis back up to Amber as if to gauge if this was a joke. She steadily met their eye, somber expression relaying that no, it wasn't a joke. 

With a shake of their head, the attendant disappeared into the VIP Lounge without another word to Amber. 

— 

Inside the VIP Area, it was like an indoor caravan camping out under fluorescent lights. On the outer edges, cabana-like tents lined the walls. Each housed whoever had been wrangled into coming to the convention. TV show and movie casts, TouYuber celebrities, influencers from an array of social media, voice actors - who most often dipped from one cabana to another - and some notable pillars of various nerd communities.

In the middle of the large room, catering had been set up. Cellophane-wrapped sandwiches, rows of soft drinks and water, decadent cupcakes or other treats, plus a few tables from popular eateries. Screens in the corners of the room blared the schedule, which had mostly completed by this point of the day.

In the OWaB camp, Augustine currently sat in a chair, one leg thrown over an arm as his back leaned against the opposite side. “Do we have any media obligations tomorrow?” 

“Our big one was done today. Showrunners and writers have a few panels or workshops tomorrow, I think,” answered Delilah, the actor that played the battle-hardened lycan protagonist of the show, stretched across a loveseat. Her sharp blue eyes angled to Augustine, an eyebrow raised in curiosity. “Don’t you have that charity auction?” 

“Fuck, you're right. Winner gets to have dinner with me.” Augustine groaned, head flopping back against the chair’s arm. In a fit of theatrics, he threw his arm over his eyes for good measure.

“Why so bummed about it? Usually you enjoy being fought over.” From their own spot on the floor near an outlet, Camry shot Augustine a curious look. In their hands they held their tablet, currently plugged in.

“If that artist came by, I was hoping to ask them to dinner.” He sighed, slumping further in his chair as he slid his arm off his face. 

Thinking of their face, eyes wide with shock and a pinch of a blush on their cheeks made something in his chest twist. The memory of their scent - indescribable and warm, twanging at something in his chest - coupled with the awry curiosity of how they’d feel under his palm. Though they had been sitting and somewhat obscured by a hoodie, he was aware enough they were curvy and round, certainly soft and warm. His fingers flexed, his imagination feeding him phantom sensations. “Guess I could ask them out tonight.”

Just as he finished, Theo entered with a tray piled high with catered food in hand. The human actor gave a knowing snort as they inclined their head to Augustine. “Talking about the smelly artist?” 

“They’re not smelly. They’re fragrant. And you wouldn’t even be able to scent them.” Playfully, Augustine tossed a pillow at Theo. It had been a careless and sloppy throw, since the other man merely turned aside to block it from hitting his face.

“I’m pretty sure they’re not coming, Auggie.” Delilah hummed as her castmate shot her a dirty look. She gave a defensive shrug, her voice softening an iota, “From the way you tell it, I think they were off-put by you.”

“Easy $200 for them, that’s for sure,” Theo laughed as he settled down in an empty chair, placing his goodies on a nearby end table. 

Augustine grumbled to himself, eyes glued back to his phone. He really should have dallied longer at the table and paid more attention. There was probably plenty there with their name or even online handles. He'd been flustered after finally locating the scent that had been plaguing him since arriving at the convention. He didn't know what he expected when he finally found it. Realizing it belonged to someone versus something just hadn't occurred to him.

“Mr. Prime, an artist dropped this off. Claimed it was for you.” 

Those words made his head snap up so fast, his eyes apparently intense as the staff member nearly stumbled backward at his expression. Before Augustine could jump up and snatch the paper from the employee, one of his co-stars beat him to it. 

“Oooh, I see what you mean," chuckled Theo, holding the paper at arm’s length while fending off Augustine with his other hand. “They definitely have a talent for catching your essence.” 

“Lemme see!" Camry jumped up from the floor, making grabby hands at the innocuous piece of paper. Theo dropped it to them and they snatched it up like a monkey stealing fruit. As soon as they glimpsed it, a cackle escaped their lips.

A flare of heat licked up Augustine’s body, his wolf ears pinned back against his head and bristling tingles spread down his back as he lurched for Camry. “Oi, I should be the first one to look at it!” 

Alas, he was too late as Delilah plucked the drawing from her shorter co-star. Sticking her tongue out at Augustine, she grinned and held it away from him, “Shouldn’t have been so slow about it.” 

Glaring up at Delilah - usually his height, but currently given a slight advantage with her heeled boots - Augustine had to swallow down a frustrated growl. She smiled viciously down at him, blue eyes almost glowing with a challenge. The chemistry between Montos and Laira, in-show, was aided by the natural playfulness between the actors that often transmuted into challenges. Not to mention the fan-made enemies-to-lovers content that plagued the fandom sphere.

His gaze shifted from Delilah’s gaze to the paper, quietly agonized by the slight crumpledness after exchanging so many hands in such a careless manner. Not to mention the artist’s own scent being lost, obscured by his crewmates’ hands. 

His pride was no match for the desire clawing at his thoughts. Ears and tail drooping, Augustine’s lips pursed as he held out his hand to his colleague. “Please, I don’t want it to rip.” 

One of Delilah’s eyebrows jumped up, her ears flicking forward in quiet interest at his reaction. Her grin grew, flashing sharp teeth as she held the paper out to him. “Fine, fine. Put that diabolical pout away.” 

Augustine had to temper his eagerness as he took the piece of art from her. Looking at it, it was much like how he remembered, except a little more refined. Overall, it was a wonderful caricature of Montos in his second season grimy glory, dirty and in tattered slack with a furred cloak. Mid-shifted his wolf ears peeked out from the mass of chaotic hair that haloed his head.

A beard stretched around his large sharp-toothed - if goofy - smile as he reached out to the viewer. Near his head, a line of fan favorite dialogue and oft-used nickname for Laira hovered: “I’ll give you a bone, Little Bitch.”

Indeed, in his slacks just before the image cut off, there was a hint of an excited bulge. Or maybe it was just a bump to let viewers infer Montos’s - ahem - size. Regardless, there was the implication of stuffing having been utilized, considering the edge of a coin sack stuck out from his trouser’s waistband. 

His eyes continued to scan the drawing until he found what he had unconsciously been looking for. A scribble of a signature adorned an empty space near the bottom of it. Narrowing his eyes, Augustine realized it was too difficult to decipher. Damn.

“Bummer that they didn’t come in though, right?” At his elbow, Camry piped up, peering at the drawing once more with an amused smile.

“Yeah,” Augustine glanced up at the staff member who still lingered close, perhaps surprised by the delight over the unflattering and crude drawing, “Why didn’t you escort them to me?” 

“They, uh, they weren’t on the list,” the gargoyle stammered, lifting their clipboard as if to provide evidence. 

“Shit.” Augustine stared at the signature on the drawing, but no amount of squinting could decipher the squiggle. His head snapped up, gaze landing on the gargoyle once more. “Were they out in the hall when you came in?” 

Relief fluttered through the attendant’s voice as they answered, “Yes, I can-” 

They didn’t have a chance to finish as Augustine tore off for the exit. 

— 

Amber and Addie stood by the door for a few minutes, waiting for the staff member to return and formally dismiss them. At the very least, if Augustine did not accept the drawing, Amber wouldn’t have minded having it back.

Eventually, Amber sighed with a shrug, condemning herself to the thought of the drawing being pitched into a trashcan. “Guess that’s it.” 

“I suppose so.” Disappointment made Addie’s demeanor slump a little. Trying to rally some humor, she shot Amber a teasing smile. “Still doesn’t prove he actually paid for it.” 

“I know,” Amber groaned, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled and started down the hall. It didn’t really matter if Addie was believed or not. She herself knew the truth. Of course, that didn’t keep her friend from ribbing her, all the same. 

There were a few moments of quiet as the two strolled further down the hall. Since they had packed up the booth early and now Artist Alley would be closing in fifteen minutes, there was no point in heading back. 

“So, what should we do for foo-” A sudden commotion from behind interrupted Addie’s words. Alarmed, both women turned to spot whatever chaos was happening behind them. 

A searing tingle shot down Amber’s body, watching as Augustine - with full almost-a-beard stubble already -  approached while waving her drawing over his head. 

Relief fluttered through Augustine the second he spotted them. They'd gotten aways down the hall, but not so far that Augustine couldn't shout at them. “Mx. Artist, your handwriting is terrible. I cannot make out your name!” 

Movement at his feet caught her eye and she was startled to find him partially tangled in a curtain. She quickly recognized it was one of the room dividers. Her eyes flicked back to the door to the VIP section and, sure enough, staff were desperately trying to gather up the fallen pieces of the divider’s frame. One even tailed after Mr. Prime, weakly calling after him.

Had he seriously barreled through privacy screens just to catch her?

She watched as he kicked off the curtain - to which the con staff member gratefully collected the fabric - and trotted the rest of the way to her. Dazedly, Amber mumbled, “My business card is attached to the receipt.” 

Augustine blinked, glanced down at the paper in his hand, then flipped it over. Indeed, stapled to the back was her business card. For overlooking that, he'd blame his co-stars and their teasing. He plucked it from the paper, careful to not completely ruin either receipt or card, before peering at it. 

AMBER DYER She/Her/They/Them Artist - Writer Creator of Hell’s Promise

As he scrutinized her business card, Amber dutifully ignored Addie’s bugged eyes and barely contained excitement. It was harder to ignore the buzz around her or now the other woman grabbed onto Amber’s arm. It didn’t help that a flush threatened to burn over Amber’s cheeks every time her friend’s big eyes jumped from herself to the actor. 

Something in Amber's chest jolted as Augustine looked back at her, that damn charming smile on his lips. “Ms. Dyer, please come back. My co-stars want to meet you.” 

“Why?” Taken aback, Amber wasn't even able to censure herself. 

Her seeming surprise at simple actions tickled at Augustine’s senses. It was charming, he thought. In response to her, his smile tilted crookedly and he brought his hand to his chin. “They said you captured my essence perfectly.”

“You showed other people?” Amber blanched as her checks heated up. The drawing hadn’t even been her best work. Hells, it had been subpar and kind of mean, if she was being honest! Did his reportedly tight-knit castmates want to rake her across the coals for it?

She was certain he was just low-key harassing her by asking for the drawing. Other than it being some weird powerplay, what explanation was there?

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” A breathy chuckle escaped him as he shot Amber a curious look. Was it so hard to believe he’d want to let others see it? “That’s the point of art, right? To show people.” 

Oh, this way something her brain could understand. Amber latched onto his flippant words, eager to gain some footing of understanding in a world that made nose sense. “I mean, there’s other reasons. Why we make art is a philosophical-” 

“Ugh, don’t start in on that boring stuff!” Addie finally butted in, shaking Amber's arm dramatically. She flashed a delighted smile in the actor's direction as Amber was startled into silence. “We’d love to come meet your co-stars!” 

Still smiling, but blinking blankly, Augustine registered the other person's presence for the first time. They were shorter than the artist and seemed to be wearing a cosplay he couldn't place. Generically attractive, with a round face and full lips upturned with vague amusement at the corners. Pleasant to look at, but something in the air around them put him on edge. 

Tilting his head to her, his own lips mirrored her faint grin. “We?” 

“I’m Addie Kline, she/her! Amber’s friend, roomie, and the one who talked her into even coming to the con." Addie's chest puffed out as she stepped forward, hand jutted out in a demanding request for a handshake. A sly expression crossed her features as she eyed Augustine. "If it wasn't for me, Amber wouldn't even have attended!"

“Ah, well, the more the merrier.” Augustine's expression brightened, now silently thankful to this previously ignored attendee. He took her hand, giving it an enthusiastic shake. “Are you a fan of the show?” 

“Big OWaB fan since day one! I can’t forgive the writers for leaving us on such a heinous cliffhanger last season.” Addie released Amber’s arm, stepping closer to Augustine. Her voice dropped low, into faux inconspicuous territory, as she asked, “Between you and me, care to share what might be in store, Mr. Montos?” 

He made a show of glancing around and Amber had to bite back a smile as overt eagerness radiated from Addie. When the man stooped closer to the other woman, Amber involuntarily held her breath.

“There are too many prying ears here,” he growled, using his character’s lilt. The corners of his lips twitched a little as his attention flicked to Amber, watching her expression carefully. 

“If you two wish to accompany me…” He let the pause languish as he curled a lip in a mean smile, running his tongue over his sharp teeth before finishing with a bit of gravel, “Perhaps I can be persuaded to talk.”

He couldn’t actually reveal anything, but talking around the questions was something he had learned for media interviews. 

Amber bit her tongue to keep from reacting to his eyes gliding over to her. The way his tone shifted, becoming more like Montos, sent shivering sensations over her body. Judging from the way his smile twitched, she thought he knew she was reacting like that. Which only convinced her to batten down against the sensation more. 

It didn’t help that others were stopping and staring, snapping photos with their phone and whispering. That realization sent another sizzle of heat through her.

He offered a hand to the bubbly woman, who delightedly took it, before offering his other to Amber. At the very edges of his awareness, her scent taunted him. Despite the relatively scant distance, the urge to bury himself against her throat burned at his thoughts.

She stared at his appendage like it was a venomous snake. A quick glance to Addie, noting her smug look and slight nod as she leaned into the man’s side, finally convinced her to give in.

With a sigh, Amber Dyer took Augustine Prime's hand, happy to be led somewhere less public.

Hopefully, she could get her head on straight by the time they made it to meet his co-stars.

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☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

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[wyattjohnston]

you always did feel just like home - nathan mackinnon

summary: valorie hadn't meant to be away from nova scotia for so long, and she hadn't meant to immediately insert herself back into nate's life. mysterious how the universe works.

word count: 11,365

warning: not exactly healthy alcohol consumption

note: it is finally time for me to put my money where my mouth is and post my exchange fic instead of just bothering everybody else! this is written for the winter fic exchange 2k23 and i wrote it for cait (hey @blueskrugs that's you)! i hope you like it! thanks to @matthewtkachuk, @comphy-and-cozy @farbutnevergone & @laurenairay who have all provided feedback as this grew to be a lot longer than anticipated.

playlist: | looking back - parachute | wait - knuckle puck | longshot - catfish and the bottlemen | selfish - the kite string tangle | i'm in love with you - the 1975 |

Valorie hadn’t intended to be late and it meant that she was immediately the centre of attention when she walked into the café. She spotted the table of her friends that was discretely to the side and out of the way, though that discretion flew out the window when Amber and Valorie squealed as they saw each other.

They rushed to close the distance, throwing their arms around one another in a hug that only remained upright because Mike was standing close enough by to keep them that way. Valorie, after pulling away from Amber, greeted Mike with a more subdued but no less friendly hug.

Neither Mike nor Amber were who she’d noticed first, though, because the third person at the table was Nathan MacKinnon and he was a man who was impossible to miss.

Despite how much she wanted to step forward and greet him in the exact same way, Valorie wasn’t sure where the boundaries were, so she opted for saying, “I would have thought you’d be far too good to hang out with us lowly commoners.”

Nate smirked, looking as if he’d been expecting it, but it wasn’t him who spoke next.

“We haven’t seen you half as much as him in the last seven years,” Mike said, thumping his hand across Nate’s broad chest. Valorie was momentarily distracted by just how broad it was; those years had been very good to him.

Mike continued, “Dogg knows where he came from.”

“Yes, yes, I’m the worst,” Valorie said with an eyeroll as she pushed everyone back to their seats. Nate paused for long enough that Valorie greeted him with a hug and a lingering kiss on his cheek.

Valorie sat opposite Nate, tucking her legs underneath her own chair to avoid accidentally entangling them with his—the length of his was a memory firmly engrained in her mind.

Immediately it became clear that the conversation was not going to trend towards the Cup like she’d been hoping. It was far and away the most exciting thing she could think of for any of them to talk about, but she supposed that everyone had had the same thought since Nate arrived back in Nova Scotia.

Instead, Amber lifted Valorie’s wrist to get a closer inspection of the bracelet she was wearing and the boys leant in, too.

“Got to keep the jewellery, I see,” Amber said, her voice slightly awed. Valorie couldn’t blame her.

“Everything but the car,” Valorie said. “It would have been useless up here anyway. Definitely not meant for winter tyres.”

“You should have kept it and flipped it,” Mike said, tapping against the table in thought. “An Audi, wasn’t it?”

“Porsche.”

Mike whistled low and impressed, Nate’s eyebrow twitched—Valorie almost missed it—and he leaned back in his seat. Valorie could only imagine what cars Nate was driving around Colorado or Nova Scotia. As nice as her Porsche was, she was sure it paled in comparison.

Valorie pulled back her hand, hiding it away under the table to stop Amber playing with it any longer.

“You still wear what he bought you?” Nate asked, his voice curiously tight as his eyes flicked between her face and where the bracelet was hidden under the table.

Valorie thought for a moment, cataloguing everything she had put on that morning. “I think everything I’m wearing was a gift from him. It wasn’t a bad break up; no bad memories associated with any of it.”

Until that moment, Valorie had been perfectly comfortable with the idea of it—her entire wardrobe had been bought by her ex so she didn’t have much choice anyway, but under Nate’s careful gaze every inch of fabric felt suffocatingly heavy.

“Why did you break up?” Amber asked. “It sounds perfect.”

“I wanted to come home,” Valorie answered simply, one shoulder rising in a shrug as she tried to casually avoid eye contact with her friends.

“He had enough money; you could have come home whenever you wanted.”

“What? You think I’ve been back, like, twice in seven years because that’s what I wanted?” Valorie asked, somewhat viciously, directing her words and the accompanying glare at Mike. “There was always someone to meet, something to do, somewhere to be and I couldn’t ever get away. I missed home.”

Mike, rightfully chastened, lowered himself down in his chair just enough to let Valorie know he regretted what he’d said. Nate and Amber were sitting in an awkward silence and Valorie had to speak just to move them along.

She continued, “And I was bored as hell. I was asked if I’d be interested in the Real Housewives of Miami reboot and if I stayed much longer I would have said yes just to have something to do.”

Amber’s laugh was raucous, eliciting the same from Valorie, and she said, “You’re too young to be on that show.”

“That’s most of the reason I said no!” Valorie shrieked, still laughing. “That and I was actually a housewife? The other women on that show have, like, careers and are important and aren’t just sitting at home complaining about doing yoga.”

“I’d watch a show that was you doing yoga.”

Three heads turned to Nate, all barking out surprised laughs at his deadpan voice accompanied by the casual expression that remained on his face—almost as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

Mike thumped Nate across the chest, as he’d done earlier, and said, “We all know you would, Nate.”

“That’s really it, though?” Nate pressed on, not even looking at Mike as he thumped him back, “You couldn’t come up with a schedule where you got to come home more?”

“It wasn’t going to work,” Valorie said firmly. Nate tilted his head but was kind enough to not press her any further.

Despite all the talk of Valorie living a lavish lifestyle, when it came to ordering food she was conservative with her money. She didn’t have a choice when that money was coming out of her own, not very large bank account. It didn’t matter in the end, because Nate quickly took over and promised that he’d pay after ordering a ludicrous amount of food all the while flicking his gaze to Valorie every few seconds.

After they’d finished eating—having spent so long that it was clear they were only being allowed to stay because they were with Nate—Mike and Amber hurried off before they were late to see Amber’s parents, leaving Nate and Valorie on the sidewalk out the front.

“Where are you living?” Nate asked, his keys twirling in his hands. “Do you want a ride?”

Valorie nodded, surprised but please, “Oh, yeah, thank you. I’m staying with my parents. They haven’t moved.”

He didn’t say anything as he started moving towards the parking lot behind the café. It hadn’t changed much since they were 16, slowly walking back to Nate’s second-hand truck after a date neither of them really wanted to end.

“You’re back with your parents?”

“I haven’t had a job in seven years, nobody will hire me, and nobody will let me lease a house without pay cheques so…”

“That’s rough.”

“It’s fine,” she insisted. Nate’s face screwed up, so she added, “I still get on with my parents so it’s really fine.”

The Porsche Cayenne he led her to wasn’t so much a surprise, given the dealership that would have jumped at the chance to have one of their vehicles driven by Stanley Cup Champion Nathan MacKinnon—it was, however, a reminder of the 911 she’d left behind in Miami.

Of everything she’d left behind in Miami.

They were sitting in the Cayenne out the front of Valorie’s parents’ house, her hand on the door handle, when Nate said, “I’ve got room at my place if you want it.”

“That’s really sweet of you, Nate,” she smiled back at him, appreciative, “but I don’t have any money to pay rent.”

Valorie opened the door and looked back into the car when she was standing upright, to thank Nate for dropping her off.

“I don’t need rent from you.”

“Nate.”

“Just say the word, Val.”

Moving into one of Nate’s spare bedrooms was easier than Valorie had anticipated; Nate picked her up a few days after he dropped her at her parents’ home in Crichton Park, loaded some bags into the trunk and unloaded them into a bedroom with a lake front view in Grand Lake.

He’d declared that everything in the house was hers if she wanted it and raised a challenging eyebrow when she walked into the wine room and declared that she’d start with the most expensive bottle and work her way down—she knew exactly which one it was, too, even with a cursory glance at the bottles lining the walls.

“It’s probably not as nice where you lived in Miami,” Nate said as he finished the tour.

Valorie laughed, “The lovely Mediterranean Revival home that he gutted and turned into a Hypermodern nightmare so the inside and the outside clashed? The one that didn’t even have a view of the beach? I’ll miss a lot of things about Miami but that house is not one of them.”

“I didn’t know you cared about that stuff.”

“Architecture?” she clarified, waiting for Nate’s slow nod before she shrugged. “I had a lot of time to kill.”

Valorie spent most of that first day on the deck overlooking Grand Lake, it wasn’t quite warm enough for her to venture into the pool, but it was perfect to just sit and watch the water and the occasional jet-skier zip past.

Nate left her to her own devices for what might have been a few hours before he joined her and started asking questions about what she’d like for dinner so that he could head to the store.

“You gonna cook for me, Dogg?” Valorie asked, tilting her head over the back of the chair so that she could see Nate properly. “What if I want risotto?”

There was a brief moment where it looked like Nate’s brain short-circuited before he collected himself and said, “I can offer you steak or chicken breast. Salad or vegetables.”

“So many options,” Valorie said, a small laugh in her voice, as she pushed herself off the chair. “If you cook the steak, I’ll make the salad.”

“Sorry, there aren’t more options.”

“Two more than I’d be able to offer.”

The admission didn’t seem to surprise Nate, who just accepted what Valorie had said without question—Mike and Amber had surely passed on a few things about Valorie’s time in Miami and the chef she had was one of their favourite thing to bring up.

Valorie used Nate going to the store as an opportunity to wander through the house. It wasn’t as large as she was expecting, so it didn’t take very long at all—especially not when she avoided Nate’s bedroom out of respect for his privacy. She opened every cupboard in the kitchen, just to make sure she knew where everything was kept, and then unloaded the dishwasher when it beeped at her incessantly. In the fridge was an open bottle of sparkling red wine, so Valorie helped herself to a glass on the balcony while she waited for Nate to return.

The calmness of Nova Scotia was something Valorie had forgotten she’d missed until she was back; even in the height of summer, with the excitement of the Cup coming back, she was more relaxed than she’d ever been in Miami.

When Nate returned Valorie greeted him with a big smile as she raised the wine she’d poured herself—her second of the afternoon—and he returned it without hesitation.

She continued to drink as they made dinner, her easy and boring salad taking no time at all, and Nate cracked a beer while he grilled and then opened a new bottle of wine for them as they ate on the balcony overlooking the lake as the sun slowly began to set.

Despite the view she had—she’d been staring at it all day, after all—Valorie couldn’t help but watch Nate as he ate, mostly scrutinising the lines of his face that were so much different to what she once knew.

“You keep looking at me like you don’t believe I exist,” Nate said. Valorie didn’t even flinch; another two glasses of wine making her particularly carefree.

“I don’t know if I do,” she admitted, sighing as she realised that even his voice had changed. “I’ve seen you on the TV and in photos and everything but for the past seven years the image of you in my head has always been you the last summer I saw you. You were a kid and now you’re a man and I really don’t know how to deal with that.”

“Yeah,” Nate agreed, his voice a lot softer and more serious than it had been. “I know. I get it.”

Amber and Mike came over to spend time on the lake not too long into Valorie’s time with Nate. It was a perfect day, which Valorie had come to expect, and being out on the Sea Doos was the perfect way to spend it.

It was nice to have company.

Nate had taken to visiting his parents’ house if he was going to see them. He always offered for Valorie to join him, but that felt like it was encroaching on boundaries she wasn’t even sure they’d set. She’d tried, though, to get him to invite them over only to be met with a shake of the head—maybe he was worried about different boundaries being breached. Valorie didn’t know.

Amber and Mike were good company, at least. Valorie was always happy that Amber had stuck by her even when she wasn’t around. Mike… Mike she could take or leave depending on the day.

“Why’d you really leave what’s-his-face?” Mike asked, apropos of nothing and a few beers deep.

Amber glared at him, though it went unnoticed. Nate sat up a little straighter and Valorie couldn’t work out if it was Mike-related or Nick-related.

“I already told you,” Valorie said, forcing a polite twinge into her voice even if she was dreading whatever might come next.

“Yeah, but there’s gotta be more to it,” Mike argued.

“Why?”

“I love this place, but if Amber wanted to move to, I don’t know, LA and never come back I’d do it in a heartbeat. And with the money you had? Easiest decision I’ll ever make.”

“He doesn’t want kids,” she relented, though it was not without steeliness as she tried to put a definitive end to the topic. “No amount of money was worth not being a mom.”

“That’s some serious self-control,” Mike said, shaking his head almost as if he was in awe. “I can think of a lot of things I’d give up for the life you were living.”

“It’s all Valorie ever wanted,” Nate said, his voice deep and low. “She was born to be a mom.”

Valorie’s gaze moved slowly to Nate as she replayed the words in her mind. He hadn’t moved from how he’d been sitting at the start of the conversation, hadn’t even looked away from Mike. She wanted him to look at her, to make eye contact to be able to get a read on him; to see if the skip it caused in her heartbeat was for an actual reason.

“It took you seven years with this guy to work out you were on a different page?” Mike asked incredulously, earning a half-hearted shrug from Valorie who looked back to him with hesitation.

“He said he was undecided. I loved him, you know? I was willing to wait it out in the hopes that kids would be on the table.”

Mike then agreed, “I’d wait seven years if I spent the entire time being a trophy wife.”

“It wasn’t about all the material possessions,” she snapped. “I know that’s what it looked like, but I’m upset you all think I’m a gold digger.”

“If the Louboutins fit,” Mike said with an eyebrow waggle.

“We know you aren’t a gold digger,” Amber said, finally, and firmly, contributing to the conversation, “or you wouldn’t have come back.”

Mike leaned back in his chair, pointed up at Nate’s house watching over them and said, rather loudly, “Right into Nate’s sweet digs.”

His loudness was met with silence, thick and tense, and the three people that stared at him didn’t seem to bother him at all.

“Do you even like me, Mike?” Valorie asked, tired.

“Come on, Val. I’m just joking around.” He added, after a hearty hunk across the back of the head courtesy of Nate, “I’ll cool it.”

The weather had turned quite quickly and quite dramatically—what had been the perfect weather the week prior had turned so miserable that Valorie was looking out the floor to ceiling windows as if her death stare could part the black clouds.

Nate was somewhere on the island doing something hockey related that he’d told Valorie about the night before while she was half asleep on the couch, so she was, once again, left in the house to her own devices.

A second car had appeared in the garage a couple of days after her arrival and Nate had assured her that she could drive it whenever she needed; Valorie was going to avoid driving it as long as she could.

The wine room was taking more of a hit than Valorie had expected when she’d joked with Nate about drinking it all; she had very few places to go, and her mother was more than happy to drive to Grand Lake to pick her up if there were family plans so she rarely had to drive, so the day drinking was getting more out of hand than she wanted to admit. It was a similar problem to Miami, she was realising, but Nate’s house wasn’t filled with quite so many time-wasting objects and there was only so much baking she could do when Nate rarely had any visitors.

Her response to the door opening had become Pavlovian, especially since being confined inside by the rain. Valorie was on her feet, pretending to walk to the kitchen to refill her glass of red, so that she’d be able to start a conversation with Nate when he walked in.

Only, it wasn’t Nate.

“Uh… Sidney. Hi. Nate’s not here. I’m Valorie—Val,” she said, all in a rush, putting her glass on the counter and desperately hoping she didn’t have red teeth.

“Nice to see you again, Val,” Sidney said, polite and friendly. “Nate told me to let myself in; he’ll be back soon.”

The shock and awe Valorie felt being around Sidney—Sid—had disappeared after exactly one summer of learning that he was nowhere near as cool as she had built him up to be. That being said, she had not expected him to remember her for a second.

“Do you want some cookies?” she asked, quickly, noticing that Sid was hovering uncertainly. “I made way too many.”

Sid smiled, nodded, and sat down at one of the bar stools on the other side of the counter while Valorie plated up an assortment of ginger snaps, Florentines, sugar cookies and Afghan biscuits all while trying not to let the wine she’d been drinking rattle her.

“Killing the boredom of being stuck inside all day?” Sid asked, drawing the plate towards him and inspecting his choices as if she was going to stop him at one.

“It’s what I do and what I’ve done for years now.” Valorie shrugged. “I drink and I bake.”

“I hope you don’t mind if I say that sounds… underwhelming.”

“Oh, no!” Valorie gasped instantly. “I mean, I got really into yoga and reading, too. I wasn’t just some boozy housewife. I love to bake, though. I could do it all day. Wine?”

Sid agreed to a glass, and Valorie pretended that she didn’t know he was doing it so she wouldn’t be drinking alone.

“Are you happy to be back here? Back home?” Sid asked around a not-yet-finished mouthful of ginger snap. “You’ve been gone a long time.”

It was, to say the least, unnerving to have Sidney Crosby—anybody, really—sitting across from her and calling her out for being gone. They weren’t friends, like Amber and Mike, or whatever else, like Nate, and she couldn’t wrap her head around why he would care to bring it up.

She took a healthy sip of her wine, savouring the taste for longer than was strictly necessary and said, “I was always trying to get back. It just never… It was hard to get away. I’m glad to be back.”

“I’m sure the island is happy to have you back,” he said, removing the unease in Valorie’s stomach flawlessly as he looked out over the deck to the lake. “Sorry the weather didn’t hold up for you.”

“It was nice for a while,” she conceded, following Sid’s eyes, “and at least it’s the same all day. I was really not impressed by Miami deciding there was a torrential downpour every afternoon after the perfect morning. Seven years there and I never got used to it.”

Valorie moved their conversation to the couch, carrying the wine with her while Sid carried the cookies he was slowly making his way through. She let Sid talk about his off-season plans, to what he’d already done since returning to Nova Scotia, noting that he was absolutely downplaying the vacation he and Kathy had taken and skipping over the extraordinarily nice or expensive parts. She loved Antigua, knew it inside and out, but was happy to let Sid tell her what he thought was appropriate—he may have been happy to ask her why she’d been gone so long but it was clear not much more information than that had made it his way.

By the time Nate was home—his definition of ‘soon’ stretching Valorie’s just a little—she was desperate to just be anywhere that wasn’t near anyone, not just Sid and the way he knew too much yet absolutely nothing. She excused herself within moments to use the bathroom, heading downstairs to her ensuite.

On her way down the staircase, she heard, the beginning of their conversation:

“Val was just filling me in on her time in Miami.”

“She really enjoyed it, right? It sounds great.”

“That’s… one way to put it.”

Walking through Halifax with Nate by her side was an experience. He’d mentioned it in passing, that people were more interested in him than normal, but Valorie hadn’t taken it to mean it was quite so relentless.

Kids wanted their jerseys autographed, everyone wanted a photo and every other person wanted to stand there on the street with Nate and listen to him recount his entire career from Bantam to what training he’d been doing since he got back to Nova Scotia.

Their trip into Halifax had been for no reason other than the sudden realisation by Nate that Valorie hadn’t left the house in an alarming amount of time outside of her new part-time job at one of the local hobby stores, so it wasn’t like the constant stopping was preventing them from doing anything in particular.

It was, however, resulting in Valorie entering a lot of stores that she otherwise had no intention of going into just so that people could gush over Nate. And at least one purchase of a dress she didn’t need.

One person who stopped them was a classmate from high school who stopped them to question Valorie about her disappearance just as much as she stopped to gush over Nate. Valorie didn’t even remember her name and the woman hadn’t taken the time to introduce herself.

“It’s so cute that you’re back for Nate, though,” she said. “I always knew you guys would end up in the same place.”

“Well, that place is home for us, so.”

“Oh, I know, but I heard all about you in Miami and obviously Nate’s making magic in Denver so it’s just nice to see you two in the same place again.”

“Yeah, it’s great,” Nate said, nodding even as he was subtly moving out of her way and directing Valorie in the same direction. “We’ve gotta head off, though. It was great to see you again.”

“Of course, sorry! You must be so busy! We should definitely catch up!”

There was more nodding and agreeing as they walked past her, Valorie checking back over her shoulder quickly in one last attempt to help her remember?”

“What was her name?” she asked Nate when they were well out of earshot.

Nate admitted easily, his face lighting up with a guilty smile, “No fucking idea.”

Valorie walked into him as she laughed, unable to control herself as it erupted from her mouth. Nate laughed, too, the guilt shifting from his face and they were holding each other up on the sidewalk as they struggled to breath.

The laughter continued, albeit subdued, as they made their way to the one thing they’d agreed upon getting: ice cream. It was an otherwise peaceful work, seemingly already having run into everyone who wanted a few minutes of Nate’s time.

Being out in public with Nate was different to being alone with him at home, Valorie noticed, and it was different to how they’d been as teenagers. He always carried himself with a confidence that was beyond him in years, almost a quiet arrogance as he always knew where he was going to end up—Valorie would have given anything to know when the arrogance disappeared. Was it because of the Cup win? His accomplishment proof enough that he was everything he ever said he was going to be. Was it seasons earlier when it didn’t look as clear?  

At the ice cream shop, Nate ordered Butterscotch ripple and then laughed under his breath as Valorie ordered Maple Walnut.

“Why is that funny?”

“You’re so Canadian.”

Noting the children around, Valorie glared at him, mouthing ‘fuck you’ before she continued out loud, “I’m going to enjoy all the maple flavoured things. You can’t stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dare. I will laugh at you, though.”

They sat on a table out the front, Nate saying hello to a few starstruck kids as they did so.

“What are you staring at?” Valorie asked, her cheeks warming up under Nate’s watchful eye.

“Just wanted to see if you were still a psycho who bites their ice cream.”

Valorie made direct eye contact with him and bit into the top of her ice cream, causing Nate to shudder dramatically.

Halifax was bustling in a way that Valorie had never seen. The decision to not have the parade in Cole Harbor was purposeful, a clear differentiation from Sid’s parades and a nice thank you to Halifax for his time with the Mooseheads.

She made her way through the crowd unimpeded, even as she headed towards the rooftop she’d been told to head to near the end of the parade route, overlooking City Hall.

Nate had let Valorie know that it was where Sid would be, hidden out of sight—a decision he’d made himself. He hadn’t even relented when Nate, drunkenly, begged him to be beside him; Valorie was grateful that Sid had the awareness to decline.

Sid was already at the rooftop with Kathy, set up with a table, chairs and some food and drink to get them through the parade and the speech Nate was going to give after.

“I hope it’s okay that I’m here,” Valorie said sheepishly, unsure if Nate had told them she’d be there. “This is where they sent me.”

“More than okay.” Sid pulled up a chair from the group of them nearby. “You didn’t want to be down there with him?”

Valorie stepped to the edge of the roof, taking in the swathes of people lined along the streets. Sid and Kathy were both watching her curiously as she turned back to them and took a seat, putting Sid in the middle.

“It wouldn’t feel right. Nate and I aren’t anything, you know.”

“That’s not true, though, is it?” Sid asked. “Or you’d be in the crowd, not up here.”

Valorie froze in her seat, only her eyes moving to follow Sid’s hand as it disappeared beside him and came back with a cooler bag that he pulled wine from.

“Do you moonlight as a shrink?”

“For Nate, yeah, I feel like I do.” He carried on, no beats missed, “I don’t have red, will white do?”

It played in her mind as she drank her wine and ate from the platter that had been set up. Nate hadn’t offered for her to be by his side—she would have turned it down immediately even if he had—and when he’d suggested she sit with Sid it felt, to her, that was the next best thing.

She wasn’t overly talkative during the wait, choosing to just stare out over the edge of the roof at the other side of the street and the people who were in nearly chaotically good spirits. She was hearing vague parts of the conversations Sid and Kathy were having, and answering questions when asked, but for the most part she was lost in the magic of the Stanley Cup being back in Nova Scotia.

Valorie had been in Cole Harbour for Sid’s 2009 Cup Parade as a small and spindly 13-year-old, watching the Cup from a distance.

That morning she’d been able to run her fingers across the engraved names.

“Is it the happiest you’ve ever been?” Valorie asked, not even bothering to quieten her voice so that Kathy wouldn’t hear. “He doesn’t talk about it as much as I thought he would.”

Sid shifted his entire body to face her and Valorie immediately felt like she was about to get a talking to; she forced herself not to shrink.

“If you want him to talk about it you have to let him know he can. I promise you he won’t shut up about it.”

“Oh. Does he think I don’t care? That’s not true,” she said, worried. “I don’t want him to think I don’t care.”

The timing was on point for the parade to enter their vision, no longer just the distant sound of the band. Even as Valorie continued to think about the possibility that Nate didn’t know how much she cared about what he’d achieved, she couldn’t help but be delighted by the sight of Gabe and Cogs very, very drunk in the first carriage that came through.

When Nate came clearly into view, the Cup held high above his head, Valorie felt her heart swell and tears prick the corners of her eyes.

“It is,” Sid said, barely audible over the band and the crowd. “The happiest I’ve ever been.”

Nate had a million things planned for the rest of his day; had a lot of people to introduce the Cup to. Long after he had disappeared from the parade and after the streets of Halifax started to clear, Valorie remained on the roof with Sid and Kathy, swapping stories until their skin was turning pink.

The fact that Sid remembered her, let alone willing to talk with her like an old friend, was still very much blowing Valorie’s mind but it wasn’t something she was going to draw attention to lest it ruin the chill vibe they’d settled into.

They walked to the bar where the party would really kick off, Sid easily blending into the small crowds still milling around Halifax—the occasional person shouting at him, at everyone near them, at the wind. The excitement felt like it was never going to leave.

Waiting for Nate felt like an age, somehow felt even longer than all seven years Valorie had been away. Maybe it was sitting beside an already very drunk Mike, or maybe it was the intense anticipation coursing through her because she knew that Nate could walk through the doors with the Stanley Cup at any moment.

Maybe it was that she was pulled into a conversation with Gabe Landeskog who looked only marginally more sober than he had in the carriage; the beers he was double fisting were sure to fix that.

“Long time no see, Valorie,” he said, his tone giving no indication whether that was good or bad. “All the way back at Nate’s first game, right?”

Valorie was hesitant to respond, and opted for an honest, “That was the only one I got to, yes.”

“He missed you a lot that year.” Gabe paused to drink from one of his beers and Valorie waited for the rest of the thought. “The year after, too, but different.”

“I missed him, too,” Valorie admitted readily; that wasn’t something she’d ever been shy about.

Gabe nodded at her, then raised his chin to say hello to someone who had just walked into the room—it wasn’t Nate, Val checked—and then put his beers down on the table between them so that he could collapse into the empty seat.

“It’s good you’re back together. He’s really happy about it.”

“We’re not—he’s happy because he’s done the one thing you guys aim to do. He’s beaten the final boss. The Elite Four were no match for you guys.”

“No, no, sure he’s happy about that.” Gabe insisted, “It’s a different happy now. A more complete happy.”

“I don’t think you’re making any sense. You should go drink some water.”

Gabe protested, downing one of the beers in a matter of seconds as if that would prove he didn’t need water. Her lip quirked up at the action, both from amusement and bemusement.

Nate finally walked in, well after everyone else was a few drinks in and getting rowdy. His arrival increased the already loud bar enough to make Valorie cover one of her ears while raising the other into the air as she joined the hollering.

Nate finally walked in, well after everyone else was a few drinks in and getting rowdy. His arrival made it worse in that the noise levels were high enough to make Valorie cover one of her ears while raising the other into the air as she joined the hollering.

He and the Cup were moved around the room like he was in a pinball machine, from person to person, from shot glass to shot glass, until at last he was in front of her. The Cup had been deposited somewhere else in the room and Valorie didn’t care enough to locate it; after all, she wasn’t there to see the Stanley Cup.

With a lack of hesitation that couldn’t even be passed off on any drinking she’d been doing, Valorie threw herself at Nate, overcome by the need to make sure he knew she cared about what he’d achieved.

Nate wasn’t immediately ready for it, Valorie’s arms around his neck as she pulled him closer, but he soon realised what was happening and moved his arms around her waist to pull her off the ground.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said, breathless and rushed into his ear. “You’re so good at—at hockey and at knowing me and at taking care of me. But hockey, Nate. I want to hear all about it, okay? Probably tomorrow so I can appreciate it, but I do. I watched it. All six games. I cried I was so proud of you. I am so proud of you. You’re so good.”

“You watched?” he asked back, his warm breath brushing over her own ear and causing her to pull back with her head tilted and her face contorted.

“Yes, Nate. Of course. I thought you knew. I didn’t think I had to tell you.”

Nate pulled her back in, his face buried in her neck. The room may as well have been empty with the way all of Valorie’s senses honed in on Nate—he’d showered before coming, put on cologne that made her head spin, and his warm breath fanned across her neck which made the spinning worse.

If a loud, roaring round of applause hadn’t broken out, Valorie could have stayed pressed against him all night. As it were, though, she pulled back in a dramatic fashion and put a reasonable distance between them before contributing to the clapping—putting gross enthusiasm into it.

Nate laughed, then made a few embarrassed gestures of acknowledgement, before accepting a beer that was being handed to him.

Valorie disappeared, leaving Nate to be bounced around the room again, and hid away with Amber and Mike. They were good and spoke to their other high school friends, all of whom were surprised to see Valorie in the flesh. Luckily for her, the Cup was more than enough of a distraction from any of them asking her what she’d been up to while she was gone.

As the night grew later, it became very clear that Nate’s long day was catching up with him. He was trying, valiantly, to be the last person kicking at the bar, though his demeanour was getting progressively testier as time passed.

“I’m gonna head out. Do you want to come or stay?” she asked, brushing her hand gently over Nate’s shoulders.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, sullen, his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her towards his chair. “You should stay.”

“Amber’s driving me home—if I leave you here can you get home?”

“You should stay,” he repeated, eliciting a laugh from the group he was sitting with.

Valorie laughed with them and ran her hand over his head, insisting that she was leaving whether or not he was coming with her. He hummed, resigned, but let her go so that she could follow Amber outside.

Valorie waited against the wall outside, her head resting back against the cool brick, while Amber went to get her car—Mike went with Amber, mostly because Valorie refused to be the one responsible for him keeping to the sidewalk and off the road.

The door opened and Valorie turned her head, expecting to just wave to somebody as they left, and was surprised to see Nate stepping out.

“Everything alright? You coming home?” she asked, reaching out to him without a second thought. Nate went to her easily.

“I’m going to stay for a bit longer,” he said, standing in front of her. He wasn’t boxing her into the bricks but he was definitely close enough that it wouldn’t take much at all to get there—Valorie thought it would be nice if he did.

“Why are you out here, then?” she asked, her fingers resting in his belt loops.

“I need to…”

Nate didn’t finish his sentence, just lowered his head little by little. Valorie tilted her chin up, pushing back against the wall to get a bit more height.

He wasn’t the same Nate she’d kissed at eighteen—he was broader, bigger in every sense and it was intoxicating to be pressed against the wall by the Nate she’d come to learn. In her mind she was expecting desperation, a need to make up for lost time. It didn’t come, though, and yet Valorie still felt lightheaded when he broke their kiss.

“Will you be in my bed when I get home?”

Valorie scoffed, a little disappointed, “Nate.”

“Not for like—I just want you there. I always want you there.”

She breathed out an “okay”, and kissed him again before sending him back inside to be with his lingering friends.

When he was gone and her head was clearer, Valorie opened her eyes and jumped off the wall at the sight of Amber’s car in front of her and Mike hanging out the passenger’s window.

She pushed Mike back into the car on her way to the backseat, asking before she even sat down, “How long were you there for?”

“Saw it all, babe,” Amber said, beaming into the rear-view mirror. “Never been happier to roll up on two people hooking up outside a bar.”

Valorie knew the second she woke up that things were different. The most immediately apparent difference was the snoring coming from beside her, accompanied by the warmth of an arm over her waist and a chest pressed against her back. Even the mattress underneath her felt different.

Then there was the fact that Nate had kissed her the night before, the catalyst for the other changes she supposed.

It wasn’t a bad different was her first major takeaway, and she relaxed back into the mattress. She couldn’t just lay there forever but she could for a little longer and enjoy the all-encompassing presence of Nate.

She had a fair idea of what time he usually woke up but couldn’t translate that into what might happen when he was hungover—which he was sure to be, and she couldn’t begrudge him that—so after lying in long enough that an ache started to settle in her sides, Valorie pulled herself out of Nate’s embrace and decided to start making breakfast.

Nothing fancy, of course, but she could whip up bacon and eggs and put some pods in a Nespresso machine without too much hassle. She hoped that the smell of food would wake him up, whether he was up to eating it or not and her hope was fulfilled when he wandered out while she was eating her own plate.

“You told me you couldn’t cook,” Nate said, dropping an easy kiss onto Valorie’s head as he passed her to the kitchen.

“I can use a fry pan.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Eating across from Nate, with him smiling at her in a way he hadn’t since her return, was exactly what Valorie had been after and hadn’t known. Listening to him tell her all about the things she’d missed when he was off doing Stanley Cup things and filling him in in return. Everything he said was perfect and when he moved into telling her about the Cup win itself—“You have to do it again so I can be there.”

“I’ll give it my best go.”

Valorie grinned, picturing it all in her head. She held the image in her mind as she cleared the table and it all came crashing back down when she looked at Nate over the kitchen counter as she realised that their future relied on them talking about the new state of their relationship.

“We probably need to have a conversation or two,” Valorie said hesitantly, eyeing Nate over her coffee to check for any reaction at all. When he didn’t so much as blink, she added, “It’s just been like… six weeks and I don’t actually know what we are to each other.”

He wasn’t pleased, mumbling, “Do we have to have that conversation?”

“If we’re going where I want us to, then yeah, Nate.”

That caught his attention enough to have him properly look at her, no longer buried in his coffee. His question came slow and unsure, yet simultaneously hopeful, “Where do you want us to go?”

“I want us to be together again.”

His previously wary face transformed into a smile, small and barely noticeable. Valorie smiled back at him as she continued to drink her coffee. She didn’t know how to start whatever conversation it was that they needed to have—conversations were one of their strong suits as teenagers, Valorie was able to frame things in the perfect way or ask just the right questions to get Nate talking.

Just as she was trying to come up with a way to get him talking, Nate was the one who spoke first.

“Why’d you move to Miami with him?”

Valorie froze. It made sense, in hindsight, that Nate would be the one leading the conversation when she was the one who’d left, and yet it was still like being doused in cold water to have the question asked of her so directly.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, and provided the simplest explanation she had, “I thought I was going to marry him.”

“I thought you were going to marry me.”

“Obviously that didn’t happen, Nate.”

“Yeah,” he said, because it was entirely obvious that it hadn’t happened and the look on his face showed that he didn’t like to be reminded of it. “And I’m still trying to work out why.”

“Nate, it was seven years ago.” She added, stressed, “We were kids.”

“I still don’t know why you broke up with me, Valorie.”

“Valorie?” she all but screeched, her full name coming from his lips sending a horrible quake down her spine and through her body.

Nate powered on, “You broke up with me and you left and to this day I don’t know why that was.”

“I wasn’t happy, Nate.”

The abrupt silence was worse than the conversation. Valorie sat there, wishing she could take back those four little words—she would if she’d known just how instantly Nate would close up.

His entire face, which had at least been showing his unhappiness and discomfort, was no longer telling her a single thing about how he was feeling. Except with that, she knew exactly how he was feeling.

She opened her mouth, ready to try and do damage control, to try to take it back so that he wouldn’t look like that, except not a single word came out.

Nate beat her to it, though, the sadness gone from his face but still very present in his voice. “Why didn’t you talk to me? I know that the long distance wasn’t great—why didn’t you talk to me?”

“None of it was your fault, Nate,” Valorie stressed, reaching across the table towards him even though he was out of reach. “You were the best thing I had going at the time. I couldn’t keep a job and I couldn’t continue with college because I kept failing the classes and I needed to leave so that I could work on all of that and not drag you down with me.”

“Did it work?”

“Yeah, over the next twelve months I learnt a lot, I grew a lot. I actually was going to ask if you wanted to try again when we were both back here the next summer, but you brought a girlfriend.”

“Rachel.”

“She was lovely,” Valorie said, truthfully.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?”

“And fuck up the thin hold you had on your mental health by dragging you down with my problems?”

“Breaking up with me and then ghosting me did a pretty good job of that.”

Valorie finally pulled her hands back to her lap, knowing that that one sentence was a sure sign that Nate wasn’t going to hold them. Him leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest made it even clearer.

She didn’t know what to say, no amount of explaining was going to be enough and she didn’t want him to think she was making excuses. At the time it had felt like the right thing to do, breaking up with him without any real reason, in the years that had past she’d come to her own realisations that maybe it wasn’t.

Nate’s voice was gruff when he asked, “When did you meet Nick?”

“The first year I was gone…” Valorie said with a sigh. “Sometime in early 2015. Before I came back that summer. We weren’t together at that point because I thought… I thought we—” she gestured between herself and Nate “—could try again. But you know…”

“Rachel,” Nate filled in, uncrossing his arms.

“Rachel. So I went back to Miami, I found Nick because he’d been good to me while I was there but we’re here now anyway. You and me.”

He nodded, still expressionless. Valorie’s leg twitched under the table, up and down repetitively, as she tried to will herself to let Nate be the next person to speak.

“You and me?” he asked, after a long silence.

“If you still want me.”

Nate sighed, pushing his chair back and standing. Valorie watched him, worried that he was going to walk away from the table—from their conversation. He walked around the table towards her, though, and Valorie didn’t have to be told to stand and meet him halfway.

Nate didn’t have anything special planned for his birthday, much to Valorie’s horror. He was going to see his family for lunch—with an invite extended to Valorie which she was more than happy to accept. She couldn’t help but laugh when she arrived and saw Sid and Kathy sitting at the table on the back porch.

“You’re almost like a second father,” Valorie joked, in lieu of a proper greeting. “You’re just everywhere. All Nate’s big moments.”

“I’m really not that old,” Sid argued.

“I was thirteen when I watched you bring the Cup to Cole Harbour. That makes you pretty old.”

He scoffed, “I turned 22 that year.”

Valorie hummed and nodded knowingly, “Old.”

She watched him roll his eyes, noting the affection on his face, and moved on to greet Kathy properly.

It was, otherwise, an uneventful lunch. Valorie was appreciative of the invite, more than pleased to finally be with Nate’s family—back with Nate’s family, and being treated as if she’d never left in the first place. Her smile was ever present, only growing as she watched Nate shift uncomfortably while Happy Birthday was sung at him. Especially when she knew she was going to sing it at him again that evening.

They stayed there until late in the afternoon and Valorie tried not to let her impatience show because she liked spending time with his family, with Sid and Kathy, but she had plans for dinner that she didn’t want to mess up. Nate knew, though, at least vaguely, so they left early enough that Valorie could relax.

When they got home, she banished him to his bedroom so that she could start to cook and set the table with the fancy table setting she’d bought the day before. She was meticulous about their dinner, returning to the recipe far more than was probably necessary to ensure that it was exactly how it needed to be, and felt a true sense of pride as it all came together.

“Can I come back out?” Nate asked, still hidden behind the wall.

Valorie looked around her, taking in the pan she was using and the cleanliness of the kitchen before she told him that he could.

He bypassed the set table, walked straight towards her, and peered over her shoulder to see what she was cooking. His laugh was gentle and sincere.

“Are you making me risotto?”

“I’ve been practising,” she admitted. “When I went to Amber’s the other day we did a test run and it was actually pretty good!”

She giggled as Nate pulled her back from the stove and turned her around, kissing her so sweetly that she nearly melted into a puddle at his feet.

The whole shop stood still, except for the large bouquet of roses that was being walked to the counter; a deep red expertly pruned and assembled. Valorie knew exactly who they were from before they had even reached her.

Everyone huddled around the vase, customers included, as it was set down on the counter in front of Valorie. She knew who they were from without even looking at the note they came with, but there was a sudden hush when her co-worker read out the note on the card: Happy Birthday, mi amor. Love always, Nick.

“You sure that says Nick?” one of their customers asked—Valorie vaguely recognised her from school, though she was positive they hadn’t been in the same year. “Not Nate?”

“I mean—”

Valorie snatched the note more aggressively than she’d intended, saying, “Nick is a friend.”

The side eyes she got from both the customer and her co-worker were far from subtle but Valorie just buried the note in her pocket and carried the vase into the back room.

They—like everything Nick bought her—were gorgeous. He had somehow managed to send her the most perfect roses from Florida and she didn’t want to think about how much money had gone into them. Every day with Nick was filled with unnecessary luxuries and that only increased tenfold on her birthday.

Until the roses came along, Valorie’s day had been uneventful. She woke up early enough for her half-day shift at the hobby store—granted to her by her boss who was horrified that she hadn’t already asked for the whole day—and discovered that Nate was already awake and making her breakfast, and he planned on driving her into Halifax.

It was the most thoughtful gift she’d received in years.

He picked her up after her shift—and after her co-worker tried not so slyly to ask more questions about the roses—and Valorie was met with a bouquet of flowers as she opened the passenger’s side door. She rushed to sit in the car, pushing the vase of roses between her feet on the floor and reaching for the pink hydrangeas Nate held.

“Oh, they’re beautiful,” she gushed, hugging them to her chest as she inhaled. “Did you have to ask someone about my favourite flower or did you just remember?”

Nate mumbled, “Remembered.”

“I can’t believe it, that’s incredible.” She leaned across the centre console to kiss him and got his cheek when he turned his head but she was too distracted by the flowers to notice. “Should I look into the meaning behind these or are they just beautiful?”

Nate started the engine, keeping his eyes firmly on the road in front of him, and Valorie tried not to read into his tense jaw. Or the way he moved his hand to the steering wheel when she tried to hold it over the gearshift.

“Who did the roses come from?” he asked as they pulled into his garage after a painfully silent car ride.

She answered, cautiously, “Nick.”

“How does he know where you work?”

“I don’t know? Insta? I don’t care about the roses, you bought me hydrangeas.”

Nate only said, “okay” before he got out of the car and left Valorie sitting in it by herself. She watched him walk into the house with slumped shoulders and an aching chest before she tried to manoeuvre herself out of the car with the vase of roses and the very large bouquet of hydrangeas.

She put the roses on the kitchen counter and then scoured Nate’s cupboards for a vase so she could put the hydrangeas at the centre of the dining table. She passed Nate on the couch as she walked to the stairs, leaning down to kiss the top of his head and thank him as she did so.

Valorie tried to put it to the back of her mind as she got ready for her birthday plans—Amber had planned a whole afternoon and evening for her and Valorie had been planning her outfit for a week. It wasn’t going to be as extravagant as anything she’d done in Miami, which she’d assured Amber was more than fine, but it was her first birthday in Nova Scotia in years and her first birthday back with her best friend so she was going to make the most of it.

Putting it to the back of her mind worked well until she ascended the stairs and saw that Nate hadn’t moved from his position on the couch.

“Amber and Mike will be here soon—are you ready?”

Nate sunk further into the couch, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his chin nearly buried into them which led to a mumbled, “I’m not really feeling it; you have fun.”

“You’re not feeling it?” she asked, hating the way her voice cracked in time with the crack in her heart. “It’s my birthday?”

“You go have fun,” he said, still into his arms. “Don’t worry about me.”

Valorie had never felt more pathetic, standing behind Nate when he wouldn’t even look at her, dressed up in one of the nicest she’d brought with her from Miami and had taken so much care with her make-up—not dressed up entirely for Nate but she definitely wanted him to at least look at her. Maybe even appreciate the effort she had gone to.

“Nate, I—I want you there,” Valorie said weakly, moving closer to him to see if she could get him to turn around. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want to go out again today.”

Valorie gave up with one last desperate look at Nate and she walked immediately through the front door to wait on the doorstep for Amber and Mike. She wasn’t going to cry about it, even if the furious blinking was barely stopping her—before Amber and Mike pulled up she pulled on her sunglasses and took some deep, centring breaths.

When Amber and Mike did pull up, this time with Amber hanging out the passenger’s side window and jumping out to pull Valorie into a tight hug as she screamed Happy Birthday in her ear, Valorie’s smile was genuine.

At least, it was until she climbed into the passenger’s seat at Amber’s insistence and they sat in the car for a few moments in silence.

“We can go,” she said, hoping that the crack in her voice wasn’t noticeable to anyone but herself.

“What about Nate?”

“I don’t want to talk about Nate.”

“I’ll fight him if you want me to,” Mike offered, completely sincerely, reaching down to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Can’t promise I’ll win but I’ll give it a go.”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into him and I don’t want to think about it for the rest of the day.”

Not thinking about it for the rest of the day was much easier said than done. It put a clear damper on the mood despite the smile Valorie was forcing into her face. For a few blissful moments she did forget, was able to just enjoy the company she was with and the drinks in front of her—and then it all came crashing back down on her with a heartbreaking thud.

Amber tried to talk about, to get an explanation as to why Valorie was upset and Nate wasn’t around and each time she was shut down by Valorie repeating that she didn’t want to talk about it and that she just wanted to enjoy her birthday.

There wasn’t much enjoyment happening, though, with Valorie staring morosely into every rum and coke she was drinking. They’d had Happy Hour cocktails, eaten some of the best steaks Valorie had ever come across and moved on to another bar to continue their night—it was everything Valorie hadn’t realised she missed and it was still being ruined by Nate.

Amber tried again, waiting until Valorie’s glass was empty, and Valorie reacted by standing up and saying that she needed some fresh air. When Amber tried to follow her, Valorie insisted that she was going alone.

Although Valorie had decided to go outside just to get away from any more questions, the fresh air did help. She hadn’t quite realised just how much the alcohol had gone to her head until she was confronted by the breeze coming off the river.

She rested her forehead against the cool bricks of the external walls, her arms crossed above her head, and counted her breaths in and out.

“Val?”

Valorie whipped around, her forehead and forearms scraping against the bricks, and was met with Nate’s concerned face.

“Thought you didn’t want to come out again today,” she said tersely, inspecting her forearms quickly and cringing at the grazes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, readily, without prompting. “That’s pretty up there with the most asshole things I’ve ever done.”

“You made me feel like shit.”

“I know. I didn’t—I’m sorry. I don’t have any excuse that’s good or justified.”

Valorie shuffled her feet, getting to the point where she was regretting her heels, and lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug.

“I’d like to make the rest of your birthday better,” Nate said, visibly shrinking in and making himself smaller and less intimidating. “If you’ll let me.”

“I really don’t feel like I should forgive you, you know?” she huffed, throwing her hands in the air.

“Okay, that’s fair. I can go home.”

She sighed, “No, I don’t want you to go home. I—I’m really happy you’re here even if you weren’t before.”

The corner of Nate’s mouth lifted tentatively, “Yeah?”

Valorie nodded, and broke the rest of the tension between them by stepping into his space and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She relaxed into him, at the feel of his arms around her and the smell of his cologne filling her head. It was going to warrant a conversation, she knew that, but if she could enjoy the rest of her night she would do just that.

She led him back into the bar by the hand, having already been subjected to a brief twirl as Nate told her how good she looked, much happier and lighter than she had been when she’d walked outside.

Valorie, never one to be held down by a hangover, woke bright and early the next morning. Nate was still dead to the world beside her, a pillow pulled over his head to block out whatever noises he’d heard that she hadn’t.

It was bright outside when she left his room with her clothes bundled in her arms, unable to lie there and wait for him to stir, though the clock near the staircase told her it wasn’t even seven.

She had a quick shower—the hot water tap barely turned—and changed before she went in search of her bag, keys and phone and left a note on the kitchen counter for Nate that she was heading out but wouldn’t be long.

The roses had never left her mind, not with the weirdness they’d caused, and seeing them standing tall and proud on the kitchen counter made her know that she was making the right decision.

She wrote another note, tucking it into the flowers and made her way to her parents’ house to leave the roses and the note on their doorstep.

Mom, I think you can take better care of these than I can. Love you xxx

The round trip didn’t take overly long, so Nate wasn’t moving about the house when Valorie returned. She made herself a coffee and sat on the balcony, the caffeine working in combination with the slight breeze to keep any hangover symptoms at bay.

“Where are the roses?” Nate asked, startling Valorie when she hadn’t even heard the door slide open.

She waited until Nate was sitting sidewards on the recliner beside her before she said slowly, “With my mom. She loves roses.”

“You didn’t have to get rid of them.”

“I’m not attached to them… They were clearly making you uncomfortable, so it’s fine.”

Nate hummed, then said softly, “Thank you.”

Valorie smiled at him, grateful for the admission no matter how vague. She stood up, only to sit back down on Nate’s recliner after moving him so she could sit between his legs and relax back into him. She reached for his hands and wrapped his arms around her body.

She didn’t expect him to say anything else, happy to push the conversation they had to have to later in the day and just enjoy a quiet morning. Nate didn’t have the same desire, though.

“A guy doesn’t just send you roses on your birthday if he’s not trying to get you back.” He was speaking into her hair and if he hadn’t been so close Valorie wouldn’t have heard him at all.

She squeezed his arms and said, “If I was going back to him, I would have any of the half dozen times he’s already asked.”

She hadn’t mentioned it to Nate—to anyone—that Nick was sending things to her parents house, not many, but enough that she’d had to call him to put her foot down. The earrings he’d sent that matched the bracelet she’d been wearing the first time she’d seen Nate back in Nova Scotia were the final straw there. She’d never worn them and hadn’t put the bracelet back on, even though it was her favourite piece of jewellery.

Nate’s hesitation was evidence enough of his worry and was only amplified by the way he was holding her close and still speaking into her hair. “He’s not wearing you down?”

“Not in a good way. He seems to think that if he throws more money at me and reminds me of the life we had together and the future we could have; that I’ll just forget that I want kids.”

“Promise?”

“Remember that conversation we had? After the Cup Day? It’s you and me. I’m not going back to him.”

Nate’s forehead came to rest against the back of her head; Valorie could feel his relieved sigh.

The summer was dangerously close to ending. Valorie was counting down the days until she and Nate got on a plane to Denver, excitement and trepidation filling every ounce of her body and only getting more and more intense whenever she saw him.

There was something on her mind, though, the cause of the trepidation. A question she’d been holding onto for far longer than she intended and a question she knew she needed to ask before they left for their new life together—it couldn’t be another conversation that happened after the fallout.

Nate had just finished up his last training session with Andy, and Valorie smiled at him and only briefly cringed when he leant down to kiss her despite the sweat rolling off his body.

Andy followed Nate in, greeting her happily, none the wiser to her inner turmoil—though how could Andy be if Nate didn’t have a clue? He said goodbye to Valorie, that he’d see her when Nate was back in Canada, and she waved at him as he left.

She sat on the couch, staring blankly at the television, and listened to the shower in Nate’s ensuite turn on. With a quick inhale and in an unexpected moment of courage, she decided to join him.

“What a surprise,” Nate smirked, watching Valorie drop her clothes as she entered the bathroom.

The water was nearly unbearably hot though she didn’t falter, immediately wrapping her arms around Nate. He followed suit without missing a beat and Valorie relished in being able to rest her head against his chest and hear his steady heartbeat over the water.

“What’s brought this on?”

“You did an interview a few years ago and I can’t forget it,” Valorie said, taking a deep breath. She was thankful that the shower was hiding the wetness in her voice. “That you don’t like kids? And I—I need to know if that’s still true before… I don’t know.”

“I was never sure about having kids, I’ll be honest,” Nate said, slow, measured, and most definitely confused. “But I always knew that if I was going to have kids it was only going to be with you.”

“Okay. That’s—okay.”

Her relief was immeasurable—she had known it was causing her a lot of inner stress but to have it roll off her shoulders was nicer than she ever could have imagined.

“I love you.”

Valorie pulled away from Nate’s chest, blinking through the fall of water over her face, another sigh leaving her body. She pressed up on her toes to kiss him, unable to express herself in any other way.

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12 - Intense Plane Conversations

Part 13

Battle of Heart and Mind

Should I include flashbacks of Charles and Addi to see what their relationship was??

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Sitting down in one of the chairs across from my mother I gripped the handles of the seats looking out the tiny window. Hank was the one flying the plane like he did back when the X-Men were still around. The ground started getting smaller and further away when we flew up into the clouds. “So can I know what exactly is happening. Why do you need me to come with you in such a hurry.”

“Uh, I am not really sure where to start. It's pretty complicated.” I stopped gripping the armrests and instead started tapping my fingers on them.

My mother Angela leans forward. “A while ago I found out my daughter who I thought was dead is actually alive. And that she's a mutant with an obvious mutant baby daddy. I think I've seen enough complicated things recently. I can handle whatever it is.”

“Okay here it goes then….that guy with the messy hair that keeps to himself is named Logan. He claims to be from the future, uh 50 years from now. He said that we have to stop one of my friends from killing someone very important. Otherwise if we don't they'll be a full out war of humans and mutants unlike there's nothing left.” I clasped my hands together leaning back in my chair.

She raised a hand to her mouth thinking briefly. “Oh my gosh. Is there anything else I should know?”

“Charles and Erik used to be friends until the day of Cuba that I told you about. The only thing I need to clear up is that you will be a grandmother according to what Logan has told me.” I sighed running a hand through my hair glancing over my shoulder seeing Erik coming from the bathroom and moved past us to sit across from his former friend.

My mother nodded with a smirk on her face. “Oh yes. I figured out what you two did that night. Especially when you asked me to come live with you and Charles is it…and I wish I could have work just got in the way.”

“It’s okay, mom.” I replied simply back to her.

She tilted her head to the side looking in the direction of Erik. “Does he know? If he doesn't know then you should go talk with him.”

“Mom, I asked you to come on this crazy mission..”

She raised her hand. “I'll be okay, Addi. We'll have time to catch up later.”

Getting up from my chair I nodded my head to her walking down the tiny walkway Erik didn’t bother looking up when I sat down across from him letting silence fall between us. Resting my hands on my stomach his eyes fell downward to it. “How far along are you now?”

“The due date is getting closer. Should be coming in a few weeks….I meant to tell you there just wasn’t an easy way to do so.” I responded to him.

He leaned back in his chair processing what it would mean. He would be a father in a few weeks but he wasn’t going to admit he was afraid…not in the company of others only with you. “Did you know the gender yet?”

“Nope. I decided to not be told until the day of. I have just been focusing on how to tell you. And after I told Charles he basically went and reverted into himself. I have been bouncing back and forth from my mothers place to his.”

Erik questioned sensing that there had been something between his friend and his now you could say girlfriend. “Are you and Charles still together?”

“We used to be, yes. But after years of missing you I attempted to push my feelings away. I…was happy with him but nothing like our time together.” I rested my chin in the palm of my hand thinking back on the past few years. “I stayed around with him because he’s my friend and he’s now become an alcoholic. The school was keeping him happy until everything fell apart.”

Erik just stared at me for a moment before saying anything more. “I'm sorry for making you leave but it was the right thing to do for you.”

“I know that. Charles doesn't see it that way.” I lowered my gaze to the ground.

Erik clicked his tongue. “He still has feelings for you.”

“Yes he does. Erik I, you should know that I did really feel like he was the one for a time. When we were running the school together before everything went downhill. I thought…I just couldn’t handle the treatments and drinking.” I put a hand to my forehead feeling my eyes getting heavy.

Erik clearly noticed my change in demeanor. “Addi, are you alright?”

“Yes, just a little tired.” I replied seeing Charles walking down the isle and sitting across from us on the other side of the plane glaring at his former friend.

Erik uttered the first words between them since we had left the Pentagon. “How did you lose them?”

Charles answered. “The treatment for my spine fixed my DNA.”

“You sacrificed your power so you could walk.” He was baffled.

Charles explained with a grumble. “I sacrificed my power so that I could sleep. Doesn't justify what you've done.”

“You have no idea what I've done.” Erik snapped eyeing me while I remained silently watching.

Charles raised his voice. “I know that you took the things that mean most to me.”

“Well maybe you should have fought harder for them.” Erik challenged the man seeing he had something to say.

“Do you want to fight? Erik. I will give you a fight.” Charles got to his feet stomping up to his former friend.

Logan had gotten to his feet, my mother had risen from her seat too. I moved gripping the handlebars to force myself up with them but Erik raised a hand to me and the others. “Let him come.”

“You abandoned me. You took her away and you abandoned me.” Charles grabbed Erik by his shoulders shouting in his face best he could since he’s shorter than him.

Erik began listing off names of our mutant friends who had died and the plane began rantiling slightly with Hank losing control of the aircraft. “Angel, Azazel, Emma, Banshee... our mutant brothers and sisters... all dead, captured, experimented on, butchered.”

“Erik.” I gripped the armrests feeling the plane start to shake when his voice got louder and if he let all of his emotions out he could snap the plane in half.

Erik stepped towards Charles who stumbled back back into his chair. “Where were you Charles? We were supposed to protect them.Where were you when your own people needed you. Hiding. You and Hank. Pretending you were something you're not.”

Hank called his name struggling to get the plane back in his control. “Erik!”

“You abandoned us all.” Erik finished sucked in a breath giving Hank control once more. Charles got up going to talk with Hank.

I slowly pushed myself to my feet holding a hand to my stomach and holding onto the seats as I walked past Erik who sent me a concerned look finding a long couch in the back of the plane. “I’m gonna go lay down for a few. The baby isn’t feeling good.”

“So you were always an asshole.” Logan sat down back in his chair.

“I take it we're best buddies in the future.” Erik turned around on his feet.

Logan takes a cigarette out of his jacket. “I spent a lot of years trying to bring you down, bub.”

Erik asked, moving his gaze over to me since I was now laying on the couch beside him while he stood having the conversation with the future man. “How's that work out for you?”

“You're like me. You're a survivor. Wanna pick all that shit up?” Logan snapped pointing to the broken plates that had gotten thrown on the floor by Erik shaking the airplane.

There was silence on the plane when it had become nightfall when Erik strided over to his former friend and the now mother of his child who was passed out asleep. “Haven't had a real sip in 10 years.” Erik paused, taking a sip from the glass of beer he had poured into it. He knew what Charles was thinking when he spoke next. “I didn't kill the President.”

“The bullet curved Erik.” Charles looks out the window.

He eyed his friend explaining. “Because I was trying to save him. They took me out before I could.”

“Why would you try and save him?” Charles asked the question wanting to know the answer.

Erik declared. “Because he was one of us.”

Charles gasped finally believing it from his former friend's own mouth even though he had heard Addison say it multiple times. “You must think me so foolish. You always said they would come after us….Addi was right the whole time.”

“I never imagined they would use Raven's DNA to do it.”

“When did you last see her?” Charles changed the subject.

“The day I left for Dallas.” Erik replied. “Strong, driven, loyal. She was...I could see why she meant so much to youu. You should be proud of her Charles. She's out there fighting for our cause.”

Charles cut in correcting him. “Your cause. The girl I raise, she was not capable of killing.”

“You didn't raise her, you grew up with her. She couldn't stay a little girl forever, that's why she left.” Erik sat down across from him looking over at Addi knowing that she missed her friend.

Charles leaned forward on the table growling. “She left because you got inside her head.”

“That's not my power. She made a choice.” Erik taunted him.

Charles ran a hand through his hair. “But now we know where that choice leads, don't we? She's going to murder Trask, they're going to... capture her, and then they're going to wipe us out.”

“Not if we get to her first. Not if we change history tomorrow. I'm sorry Charles. For what happened, I truly am.” Erik apologized, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“What about what you did to Addi. Are you sorry for that?” The telepath finally uttered her name a second time while glancing over at the sleeping blonde he wished was his.

Erik tapped his fingers on the armrests in thought. “I’m about to meet her mother tomorrow, Charles. I don’t think I have done anything wrong to her. But please tell me what I’ve done to offend you about her!”

“I am just concerned for her safety. You need to remember that she has given her whole heart to you. She’ll never feel that way about me. I have to accept the defeat here. It’s just you need to make sure and not hurt her or leave her overwise you will be dealing with me and mark my word Erik, I won’t go easy on you…not when she’s involved.” Charles threatened the man getting to his feet going to the bathroom leaving his former friend alone with his thoughts.

Erik couldn’t help but stare at the peaceful sleeping blonde across from where he was sitting. She had wrapped herself in a warm blanket and did her best to keep it covering the baby bump. “Why me, Addison. Why choose me when you could have had him?” He wondered to himself all through the night falling asleep just watching her for hours.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[invisibleraven]

It's not the way you look, it's the way that you...

When Reggie texts Julie asking what she wears to bed, she has no idea what to think, or where the conversation will go from there.

On AO3!

So I saw this post and immediately thought: Rulie, this is so Rulie. So you guys get this little bit of nonsense, please enjoy!

Julie hummed along to the low music playing from her laptop, kicking her feet behind her while she doodled away. It was too early to go to bed, but too late to do much of anything else, so she was just wasting her time before she forced herself to sleep. She was honestly debating an ill advised late night PB & J when her text alert sounded, and she grabbed her phone.

Reggie: What do you wear to bed?

Julie’s eyebrows flew up-where had that come from? Sure, Reggie was a flirt, and she flirted right back, but neither of them had pushed for more than that, content to stay flirty friends and writing partners whenever Reggie got the itch to pen some country songs. Would Julie like for them to be more? Maybe, but after she and Nick had blown up, then she and Luke had fizzled out, she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk another friendship.

But if Reggie was out of the blue starting what felt like a sexy conversation? Well Julie was cool playing along to see where it went.

Julie: Black lacy bra and booty shorts ;)

She was not, of course, wearing either of those things, but there was no way Julie was telling Reggie she was wearing floral jammie pants and a Sunset Curve shirt she may or may not have stolen from him. Plus it was fun to imagine just how flustered Reggie was in seeing her text. She bet he turned as crimson as his favourite flannel. Making him blush was half the fun of flirting back honestly.

She held her phone a little tighter as the three little dots appeared, then disappeared, back and forth, until finally Reggie’s next text appeared.

Reggie: k, but what about when it’s cold?

do you wear warm pajamas?

MeeMaw is making me get rid of my X-men jammies, and they’re about your size.

Julie sat up at that. While her mother had gotten her into music, her dad had gotten her into comics. It wasn’t an interest she widely published, but she loved reading the adventures and exploits of superheroes, particularly the mutants of the Marvel universe. People gifted with unique abilities and despite the world hating them for these gifts, choosing to help humanity rather than fight against them. While America Chavez was her go to cosplay, a part of Julie’s heart would always belong to Professor X and his gang.

Reggie had come across her reading the comics one day, and instead of teasing her, he enthused over the title she was reading, and showing her his own collection. His favourite was Nightcrawler, and Reggie had gotten her all the copies of Excalibur he owed, with Julie coming to really love the fuzzy blue guy.

So she knew exactly which pajamas that Reggie meant-ones with a hoodie that looked like Nightcrawler’s uniform and flannel pants that were covered in the X-man logo. She had coveted them for forever, Reggie looked so comfy and snuggly in them when he wore them to band slumber parties, and Julie wanted that level of comfort while repping her nerdy side.

She then saw another text from Reggie and melted a little as she read it.

Reggie: i swear they’re not gross or anything, they’re clean, but i can wash them again if you want, i know you like them

Julie: Yes please!

Reggie: cool, I’ll bring them next comic book day?

Julie sent a thumbs up in reply. Every Thursday they walked to a local comic shop to pull their new titles, check out new stuff, and occasionally splurge on a figurine or Funko Pop, with Reggie proclaiming that one day their band would be big enough that they would be here, immortalized in vinyl for fans to buy. Julie hoped he was right.

She glanced over to her phone again, at the sweet gesture Reggie had made, and decided fuck it, throwing the chat log up on her tumblr page, no caption or tags, and left it, browsing a few other sites before calling it a night, not even thinking about it before she slept.

Only when Julie awoke, her phone screen was full of notifications. Messages and reblogs with shouty tags from her friends and followers on tumblr.

Smashley: Girl if you aren’t dating this guy, I will!

Katie-Cakes: #marry this guy now #nothing says i love you like x-men

Jo-Jo-Jo-Your-Boat: #any guy who buys you i was thinking of you gifts #is worth at least a smooch #if not a date

Inn_Your_Wildest_Dreams: Please tell me you said yes to the jammie guy and he asked you out immediately after

Jaybird: #not where i thought this was going at first #too adorable for words #relationship goals #you guys are going to be in a relationship right? #cuz i’m shipping it like crazy

There were countless more, all along the same trend; she needed to date Reggie.

Julie worried her bottom lip, unsure. Yes, Reggie was sweet, she knew they had some chemistry from their play flirting, and had a lot of similar interests. And it wasn’t like Reggie was hard on the eyes either, with his punk style and classic good looks. But it was still Reggie!

Reggie who made her laugh so hard she snorted in a totally undignified way. Who indulged her love of romantic comedies while she sat through his sci-fi favourites. Who encouraged her to branch out musically, and their country songs were pretty darn good as a result, even if her fiddle playing was still less than stellar. Who shared his desserts with her at lunch time, his comics whenever he came across a storyline she might like. And now, here he was, offering her something he had treasured just because he knew she would like it.

Julie touched her cheeks, feeling the burn against her palm, the way her smile was stretching her cheeks. “Oh God, I like Reggie,” she whispered to herself. Sure she had thought along the same lines before, but now she felt like it might be time to throw caution to the wind and act on it, reservations about what this would do to their friendship be damned.

Now what was she going to do about it?

Julie pulled up her conversation with Reggie once more, and looked over the words from the night before, and at her growing tumblr notifications. And maybe her thumbs started moving all on their own.

Julie: I put our convo from last night on the internet!!!

Reggie: Wha??

Julie: I put it on tumblr! You should see the response!!!

Reggie knew of tumblr, that Julie knew, but he confessed that social media wasn’t really for him. “I prefer my technological advancements to stop in the 1990’s,” he had quipped, and Julie had laughed, telling him he had been born in the wrong decade.

“Plus you run the band’s Insta page!”

“Yeah, photos I get, I did all Sunset Curve’s promo stuff,” Reggie admitted. “And Insta is way easier than making posters. But blogging and stuff ain’t my jam.”

Reggie: isn’t tumblr an art site?

Julie: Yeah sort of

But also not really

It’s complicated Anyways, my post got a huge response

Reggie: shit

Oh no, Julie instantly panicked. What if Reggie came to the same conclusion as all her followers and was about to let her down easy? Or get mad at her for putting it up without his permission? Sure she had blacked out his name, but still… those were his words, unfiltered for anyone to see.

She was about to offer to take the post down when Reggie texted her again.

Reggie: i lied to millions on the internet-MeeMaw isn’t making me get rid of my jammies, she thinks they’re adorable

I got the same pair for you at target

They were on sale though

No they weren’t, that’s another lie

I’m sorry tumblr

Can they see this now??

Julie giggled, kicking her feet in the air. Oh gosh he was just too adorable! She didn’t care that the pajamas he wanted to offer her were second hand-that way they would already be that comfy sort of worn, plus they would smell like Reggie, and that boy always smelled nice, unlike many of his counterparts. Reggie knew what soap was, and how liberally to apply aftershave-aka the tiniest dose of something woodsy, not the litre of Axe that Nick favoured, or the eau of body funk Brett from Economics wore.

Still, Julie needed to reassure Reggie. Even if this follow up was so going up as well, but at least this time he’d get some warning.

Julie: Nope!

I’ve gotten a bunch of messages telling me to marry you though

Julie held her phone tight after that as the three little dots telling her Reggie was typing appeared and disappeared, and she was seriously cursing their existence. Maybe she should call him, laugh it all off, go back to their norm.

Reggie: we could start with coffee?

can i pick you up sunday at ten?

Julie: You can pick me up in an hour if you like

Reggie sent her back a wide smiling selfie with him giving her a thumbs up and she squealed before scrambling to get ready.

“Julie?” her dad asked from the hallway. “Are you okay? I heard screaming!”

“Fine papi!” Julie called as she dashed for the bathroom. “I’ve got a date!”

Ray smiled to himself, and it grew when he heard Julie start to sing as the shower started. A country song if he wasn’t mistaken, and he wondered if he should brush off his shovel talk for Reggie or just confess he had been waiting for this day for a long time instead.

Only when Reggie rang the doorbell just about an hour later, Ray didn’t say anything, the boy looked nervous enough, clutching the stem of a single red dahlia in his hands, his smile not as brilliant as it usually was. Ray clapped him on the back, squeezing his shoulder. “She’ll be right down mijo, you want anything while you wait?”

Reggie shook his head, but blew out a breath and turned to Ray. “I really like her, you know. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

“I know,” Ray replied, sipping from a glass of water. “I’m sure it’s the same for her. Just remember to be kind to one another, and to stay friends, no matter what else you may or may not become to one another.”

There was thundering footsteps down the stairs, and Julie appeared in the kitchen doorway. She was in a sundress with puff sleeves, decorated in peach coloured flowers, her curls down and shiny. “Hi,” she said to Reggie, looking and sounding almost shy.

“Hi,” he said back, shaking himself and offering her the flower. “You look really pretty.”

Julie took the bloom and stuck her nose into its petals in an effort to hide her blush. “You clean up pretty nice too,” she finally said. Reggie gave a mock twirl, showing off his khakis and black polo.

“Figured I should put in some effort,” he said. “You ready to go? I thought we could enjoy our coffee on a walk in the park, maybe catch a light lunch after that?”

“I’d like that,” Julie said, handing her flower off to her dad as she took Reggie’s arm. “Bye papi, I’ll be back later!”

Ray waved, but watched from the window as Reggie helped Julie into his truck and bit back a smile as he saw Reggie hand Julie a bag, which she laughed out loud at when she opened, pulling out a weird looking hoodie. Kids these days, he’d never get them.

It wasn’t until he was heading off to bed that night that he had a chance to catch up with Julie. Who was wearing the weird hoodie he had seen a flash of earlier, and pajama pants he had never seen before, but recognized the logo of. Ray couldn’t help but grin at seeing Julie indulge the nerdy side he had nurtured in her. He wondered if Reggie got them for her, given his own love of comics. If so, that definitely made him a keeper.

“Good date?” he asked slyly.

Julie looked up at him, and sighed. “The best.”

“Going on another one?” Ray asked.

“Papi,” Julie whined with an eyeroll. “Yes, we’re going to check out this little farmer’s market tomorrow, and then maybe do a little window shopping on the boardwalk.”

“Sounds like fun,” Ray said. “You two seem good for each other. I’m glad you gave him a chance.”

Julie grinned, and hugged herself. “Thank the internet.”

Ray shook his head at that. He would never understand his daughter-or the internet. So he wished her goodnight and went off to bed.

It wasn’t until many years later, when Reggie and Julie were visiting for the holidays during winter break and they were sporting matching pajamas that he even got the full story. And well, Ray still didn’t get it, but he had to admit, they made a pretty cute couple. Especially when they posed for a photo later, still in their matching jammies, but with Julie’s brand new engagement ring shining on her finger.

[seriesxwriting]

Reunited

W Rafe Cameron 💗

Series- outer banks

Summary- you’re back in the outer banks. And soon your crush on Rafe Cameron comes back too. After you see how well that boy glowed up, how he treats you like a princess, how much of a gentleman he is. Only for you.

Warnings- kissing, gotta be swearing in there too somewhere

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Here I stood. Outside the airport, waiting for my car to come. The warm breeze blew my long hair around my shoulders and I shut my eyes sinking in the sun. “Holidaying?” A voice came from no where. My eyes snapped open to see who was talking to me.

“Sort of- we’re visiting people” I shrugged to the boy. He stood tally in front of me with his brown hair swept just over his eyes and tight t-shirt showing off his muscular body. He was hot, outer bank boys were something else. “Tourons” the boy giggled while shaking his head “I’ll be happy to be a guid”. His brown floppy hair shined reflecting in the sun. Because I’d lived in the outer banks a while ago I knew all the terminology they used.

“Actually I used to live here, so not a touron” my eye brow lifted while my arms folded half pissed off with the boy. “Did you now and why’d you leave” “my mother needed to move to England for her business- not that it’s any of yours” I fake smiled towards him. His dark blue eyes opened wide at my sarcasm but his lips smirked dangerously. “woah feisty, you remind me of someone”

“You have no idea- are all boys in the outer banks this arrogant still?”. His eyes trailed down me as I popped my hip scowling at him. I had a short tight purple skirt and a matching set crop top. The cut wasn’t exactly high. I was a small girl even with my sparkling white heels on the boy towered over me. “Mmm I’m not arrogant but, no one here is like me” he winked finally looked up at my eyes again.

I saw out the corner of my eye that my mother was now returning after having gone to the bathroom. “Nelly over here” Rafe shouted walking over to her a step or two. “Oh y/n! You’ve found rafe” she exclaimed. Me and- well Rafe looked at each other with confusion and a frown on our faces. “Y/n?” Rafe looked me up and down again “no way… I’m not- that’s Rafe? Like little Rafe I was friends with when I was 11?” I turned whispering to my mother.

“Yes” she laughed going in to hug the boy. He seemed to remember my mother “nice to see you again nelly” he only looked at her for a second before latching his eyes back on me. “And what do you mean little rafe?” His arms folded. “Are you serious- you were tiny” I giggled putting my hand over my mouth. Rafe was pissed but he was trying to hide it. “I’m not tiny anymore babe” “I’ll be in the car” my mothers hands flew up and she dragged her suitcase towards his jeep.

“No- I’m coming too!” I tried picking up my bag but Rafe replace my hands on the handle with his. “I’ve got it” he told me staring into my eyes. We had both bent down for the bag and were not that far away from each others faces. His blue eyes were beautiful I was stunned in thought. I can’t believe Rafe is the family we were visiting and I can’t believe how well he glowed up.

He took it to the car and put my bag in the boot. My mother had gotten in the back so the front seat next to rafe was free for me to sit in. “So how long are you guys down for again?” Rafe looked at my mother in the mirror making conversation. “Five days, we leave Friday night” “great, y/n will be around for the beach party’s there’s one tonight too, interested?” He asked raising an eyebrow taking his eyes off the road for a second.

“Um- Uh Im quite jet lagged actually I mean…” “yes of course y/n wants to go she wants to see her old friends huh” my mother wiggled her face at me. “Mum rafe was my only friend- I didn’t get on with the others” “yeah I don’t think you will have a problem with that anymore hun” rafe stated just as he pulled into the drive. I remembered the house well. I’d go here every day after school.

Rafe took our bags out the boot wheeling and carrying to the door. He turned to me “you coming” the boy grinned a shiny white smile. All i could do was nod. I hardly knew what to even think about all this. I followed Rafe into the hall way where my mother and rose where mid hug. “It’s so so lovely to see you! It’s been years” rose chuckled rubbing her back. “Is that- y/n oh how grown up you are and gorgeous!” She waddled over to hug me too. Rose was a enthusiastic woman.

Full of energy. Rafe giggled silently watching me be smothered by his mother in law. “Y/n let me show you to your room” he finally said as she started to puff out my hair. “Oh yes- I’d love to um- see where I’m staying- I’ll see you later rose” I hurried away climbing the stairs behind rafe. “I can remember where your room is” I told him smiling “prove it” Rafe nodded calmly. Automatically I walked through the halls upstairs weaving in and out until I came to rafes room at the end.

I pushed it open to see how it had changed. I walked in not waiting for his invite. None of our drawing where on the wall anymore. His baby bule walls where now all grey and grown up. His little white bed we had so many sleep overs in was gone. “It has- been eight years y/n” Rafe told me to get me responsive. “Yeah I know I just it’s a lot and-…” I stopped what I was saying when I turned. I saw on a side table behind the door Rafe had a photo of a drawing of us framed.

“There’s no way you kept that for eight years” “of course I did you were my best friend- the rest are in the attic” the boy told me watching me pick it up clutching it close with my delicate hands. “I always hoped we’d see each other again- though I can’t believe you didn’t recognise me” he shook his head jokingly “you didn’t remember me either” I widened my eyes laughing. “That’s because you got- ridiculously hot over these eight years” Rafe answered confidently. “One might say you had a glow up too Cameron” “everyone would say” he corrected me.

“Anyway- this isn’t the room your staying in but if you really want to, it can be arraigned” Rafe winked at me coming closer. “Just like old times huh” I flirted back and rafes eyes went wide. He didn’t see it coming I watched his pink cheeks turn red. I stepped forward and pushed him on the bed roughy, laughing. I ran away continuously giggling, I heard rafe laugh too and then his foot steps follow me. We thundered through the hall way until he caught me picking me up. “Rafe put me down” I hysterically laughed between his arms.

He turned us around and Sarah stood there “nice to see you again y/n- and to see you guys still acting like children when your nineteen years old” the girl chuckled under her breath. Rafe put me down staring at his sister with evil eyes, I pushed his face laughing at him “stop it rafe- it’s nice to see you too Sarah” I smiled back. “See you at dinner” she saluted us and skipped off down the stairs. “So uh- your room I guess” Rafe pointed to the one next to his.

“For easy access” the boy whispered nodding. I wondered into the room and a few seconds later rafe brought in my bag laying it on the floor. “Thanks” I nodded simply “dinner will probably be ready soon um- I don’t know if you wanna go down now or… unpack” “well- what are you doing?” I asked him confidently “probably going to head down” Rafes lips formed a smile at my question. “Alright then” I agreed walking over to the boy. “What’s for dinner?”. Now my heels were off he was even taller than me.

Rafe threw an arm over my shoulders leading me to the stairs. It was nice, comfortable with his large body size compared to me. “Hmm pork chops I think” he told me “what was the meal we would ask to have like every night as kids?” I turned to him my mouth open wide in deep thought. “Tacos” we both said at the same time. Me and rafe laughed to each other “those were the days” he told me just as we entered the dining room.

“Y/n, nice to see you” ward eyed the hand round my shoulders and his eyes slightly lit up. Rafe noticed and removed himself. “Nice to see you too, you haven’t aged a bit ward” he chuckled “always a pleasure- and I suppose you haven’t seen Wheezie since she was three” he nodded down to his brunette daughter sitting in the chair in front of him. She pushed her glasses onto her face and waved awkwardly. “No I guess I haven’t, I can’t believe it- your almost getting old wheez” I smirked at her.

“Humm is that a grey hair I see?” She pointed at me. Rafe sniggered taking out a chair. “I see where you get your humour from- or should I say who” I looked at rafe and he nodded to the chair. Had he just pulled a chair out for me? Since when was he a gentleman too? I took a seat and he took one next to me. After about ten minutes of talk and catching up Rafe started playing footsie with me under the table. He was such a child but it matched my personality so well. “So y/n what are you doing now school has just finished?” “I’m still deciding what university to go to”

Ward nodded while stuffing his face with pork. “Staying in education, good” he told me “Rafe is doing business in the uni here, have you looked here?” “I uh- I never thought about going to uni abroad” I admitted shrugging almost. “Well if you like the one here your welcome to stay with us” rose offered up before ward could. Rafe chocked on what ever he was eating. He looked at me looking at him “well we should really be getting to that party- it started five minutes ago” he glanced at his watch while announcing.

“Mmh of course” ward nodded for us to go “you will take care of her wont you rafe- you know she’s had a hard time with some of the people there” my mum raised her eyebrows “mum! I’ll be fine” I shook my head almost embarrassed. “I’ll be with her the whole night” Rafe admitted getting up first. My mother nodded at him. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t” Wheezie shouted as walked down the hall. But Rafe just winked at me. “Are we going like this?” “What’s wrong with what you have on”

“Is It- beach party’s style?” I looked at myself in the mirror. Rafe joined me. I stared at us both in the mirror, we looked like a hot couple right now. “Don’t over think it, you look gorgeous another reason why I’ll have to stay with you every second” Rafe held the door open for me. I had to hide the smile he gave me as I walked outside. Rafe soon followed passing me a helmet hesitating. “Is that- okay?” Rafe asked checking first. “All of the boys in England have bikes rafe I’ll be fine”

“The boys in England don’t drive like me babe” he walked off inhaling sharply. I squeezed one eye at him confused about the change in attitude. I held onto rafes waist as he sped off towards the beach. I already felt nervous but when I heard the music my stomach became a washing machine. Round and round and round. Rafe stopped the bike and I really didn’t want him to. “Rafe I- Im not sure actually” “are you still worried you won’t get on with any of them?” He turned to me softly.

“Yes- no… I just have bad memories from them all they made my life hell they all did… apart from you” “y/n if anyone says anything I swear I won’t be able to walk away… if you know what I mean” Rafe shook his gorgeous head sternly. “Don’t mean it won’t hurt the same” he opened his mouth to say something but some people started spotting us. “Rafe is that you?” I looked round at who was coming up the stone steps. “Is that topper Thornton” I whispered to rafe.

“It is you? Who’s this a touron” he widened his eyes looking at me. A few people came running after topper with drinks in there hands. I remembered each one of them and how they spoke to me, treated me. kelce smith. Aaron Rowe. Layton slater. David white. “Um no, remember I said a family was coming to stay with me” Rafe got up to put our helmets away. “You remember y/n” Rafe nodded to me. “Fuck off” topper raised his eyebrow laughing.

I stood there awkwardly wanting to leave so desperately. “Y/n y/l/n? From middle school” David pointed out frowning “yea” i nodded really not thinking I’d overly changed that much. “Shit y/n- I said some things back then that were out of line I guess I didn’t think I’d ever see you again” kelce told me straight. “I didn’t ever think I’d be back in the outer banks” “best place to be” topper shouted out. “You got fucking hot” Layton blurted. “You have no game” topped slapped his face.

“You had a serious glow up gorgeous” Aaron raised his eye brows. I saw Rafe roll his eyes after I laughed feeling a bit more comfortable. “So when did you guys become friends with Rafe?” I asked smiling. “Wanna come get a drink with me?” Kelce asked me putting his head to the side. “I’ll catch you up on the last few years” “I’ve got your next drink” topper winked at me. “Sure y…” “we will be over in a second” Rafe cut in signalling for them to leave.

I felt a lot calmer and more welcome than I had five minutes ago. The boys all stumbled away whispering while rafe scowled. “Look If you want me to take you home I will- maybe this wasn’t a good idea” Rafe admitted coming close to me. “Eh we’re here now might as well see how it goes, plus I did just promise kelce I’d get a drink with him” “fuck kelce” Rafe shrugged putting his hands on my waist. “What’s that supposed to mean” “what there doing now is worse there looking at you like your meat y/n”

“Well…” I started “I shouldn’t have braught you” Rafe cut in waffling while staring into my eyes. “Will you let me talk? What’s gotten into you where’s cocky rafe gone?” I questioned with half a smile. “Look I just don’t like how they were looking at you and talking to you- you can do so much better like- because- it’s just…. If you have your eye on one of the boys over there can yo…” And with that I lifted my head towards rafes lips and pressed them together. Holding his head my way. He didn’t pull away he pulled me closer.

I don’t think even I realised what I’d done before we were both at it for a few seconds. It was just like I’d imagined it to be. The boy had been my whole life and I don’t care… it was fate we met again. “I do have my eye on one of the boys rafe, but he’s not standing over there” I whispered still holding his face close. He looked at me In utter shock before smiling and kissing me quickly.

“Just- promise me you won’t leave me tonight” I looked up sceptically at the boy. “I don’t want us apart ever again y/n trust me I’m not leaving your side”. I smiled warmly and hugged him tight. “Let’s go then”. He took my hand tightly, gently. “Just to be clear..” Rafe stopped us a second “yes! it’s you rafe” his face relaxed when he heard me say that. I knew him too well.

“I guess we better have a conversation about where this leaves us huh?” “We will do it in our room, when we get back” I looked up winking at rafe. We were reunited by fate and we wouldn’t be separated that’s for sure. Not again.

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Mastlist❤️ for more like this❤️

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

The Gambit - A Malevolent Fic

Nothing to see here.

Only a baby god... scheming.

Part of the Surrogate series. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

-----------

Court was just getting started. Magnificent beings sashayed (floated, slid, burbled) their way through Hastur’s throne room. It was a gleaming affair, in spite of being so very wet; creatures so outré they caused madness when seen without protections, creatures that could (and had) eaten entire worlds, creatures who reigned, magnificent and terrible, over their own nightmare-realms of screaming fools and weeping children.

But they made it look good.

Dripping essence and gleaming jewels, sweeping fabrics and bloodshot eyes, colors that could not be named, and fluting sounds through holes in membranous wings—it all came together in one overwhelming potpourri, a maddening maelstrom, a storming insanity.

And John was ready. Hastur, said John. I need to speak with you.

Arthur blinked. “What?” he whispered.

Trust me.

Hastur’s undulating tentacles stilled, just for a moment, as he turned toward them. “Of course, John. Right now?”

One supplicant, detecting this wasn’t a conversation meant for their ears, loped back a bit, bumping into the line that had begun to creep forward.

He was king, John reminded himself. Rex. He could do this. Yes.

“And it couldn’t have been discussed at breakfast?” said Hastur lightly.

No. John was firm. We need to have a private conversation, and we would not have been afforded that.

“Uh,” whispered Arthur. “Don’t think it’s private now.”

Yes, but this forces his hand, John hissed back. It’s strategy.

Hastur chuckled, low. It was an awful sound, and purely for show. “Ah, the impertinence of youth! Everything must happen so quickly.” He picked Arthur up. “We will return post-tantrum, and all will be well, hm?”

Polite laughter followed them as Hastur flew out of the room. Arthur put his face over his hands and groaned. “Now what?”

Hastur apparently took John’s request seriously. He didn’t choose a room, didn’t raise a sound-proofed ward; instead, he flew through one of the high, wide windows and went straight into sky.

“Whoa!” Arthur cried, feeling wind in his face.

Oh! We’re high, Arthur! So high! John laughed. The day was warm and sunny, beautiful and clear, and Hastur added a couple more tentacles around Arthur as if to be sure the man couldn’t get it into his head to squirm away and fall.

John envied the tentacles.

And now, above Carcosa, they hovered free, blazing brighter than the suns, a sight that would cause terror anywhere other than Hastur’s own home.

John envied the power.

“Well,” said Hastur. “Here we are. All alone, yet viewed by the whole world for the sake of whatever little play you’ve concocted. What, exactly, was so urgent you needed to interrupt court to bring my attention to you?”

“Drop the act,” said Arthur. “Nobody can hear us up here.”

“True.” Hastur’s tone was softer, that undone tone he’d had all through the last month. It wasn’t booming. It wasn’t authoritative. It wasn’t powerful.

John did not envy whatever this was. It’s about Sunny, he said.

Arthur inhaled. “Sunny?”

“Is there a concern regarding Sunny?” Hastur said evenly.

He is intended to merge with you at the end of the six years, John said. I am telling you not to do it.

Silence. The wind whistled; distant birds chirped. Far below, Carcosa bustled, its various sounds and conversations merging into a hum. 

“You are… telling me,” Hastur said.

Yes. Don’t fucking eat him. John spoke low, stubborn, angry. Kingly. He tried to channel the anger of a lord discovering he’d been disrespected and disobeyed. Or I will never fucking forgive you!

“Oh, John,” Arthur whispered, and their eyes went a littly misty.

Hastur was so still; the only indication of any life was the subtle sense of his hearts and the fact that they still flew. “Oh, won’t you?” he said at last.

I fucking mean it, Hastur! John snapped. He’s wise! If I’m to take my place at your side, I need his advice, but if you do not give me what I want in this way, I will reject you. I will stymy you at every point. I will ruin your fucking court!

“Holy fuck,” Arthur said.

Hastur looked up as if seeing a million miles away, into the stars hidden behind the day. “I see. Yes.”

Don’t take him. I… Was this working? Was he getting anyhwere? John swallowed, reaching for Arthur’s hand. He understands. He’s helping me, even though… even though I scared him, before all of this.

Hastur was silent for another long moment. “Do you know why I have asked you to step up, John?”

Uh. Well. No, actually, he did not, and felt absolutely flatfooted by the question. No.

“The last month made me realize many things,” said Hastur slowly, as though only now putting it all into words. “I am known to mock my brother, Cthulhu. You know this of course.”

John scoffed. Hit by a boat and sleeping. Right.

“Yes.” A deep, perfect sigh, ponderous and weighty. “I need something from you. Perhaps… we can satisfy each other.”

John growled. Satisfy?

“I am weakened, John.”

Arthur swallowed hard, and his free hand clenched one of the tentacles holding him.

John didn’t answer.

“Weakened since losing you. Weakened since losing Sunny. I had hoped to regain some of my power through him. But if I am to forgo taking this piece of myself back into me, then I need something in return.”

I’m not leaving Arthur, said John, so if that’s what you want, you can shove it up your ass.

“I will never ask you to do that again.”

Arthur exhaled, and his head hung for a moment.

“I think, John… that I need… rest.”

And John put it together. Wait the fuck… you want to go to sleep? Like fucking Cthulhu?

Arthur frowned. “I thought gods didn’t sleep?”

“It is a… stasis,” said Hastur quietly. “A condition of ultimate rest for us—and one in which we heal more than at any other time or place. After this second season—or whatever Kayne called it—I think I will need rest.”

Arthur’s eyes widened. “You’re leaving?”

“Not now.”

“Wait. Fucking… at the end of the six years, you’re fucking leaving us?” Arthur snarled.

“Temporarily.”

“You fucking coward! Don’t you dare!”

Hastur stroked Arthur’s hair.

Arthur shoved at him. “No! You don’t get to be all paternal when you’re leaving us.”

“Temporarily,” said Hastur again. “And I think I need to, Arthur. This isn’t a want; do you really think I would choose to miss such crucial developmental stages in Faroe’s life?”

That brought Arthur up short. Of course.

I don’t understand, said John, softly.

“I am so very old,” said Hastur just as softly. “Usually, I don’t feel it; but since my son…” He stopped. His voice caught; if he was acting, it was the best that had ever been done. “Since my son, I have… bled, inside. That is how it feels. I need rest. And that is why I need you.”

Arthur inhaled slowly. “He… you can’t put that on John.”

“For me to continue as I am, weakened, will only put all of you in even greater danger. But if I prepare to to step up and take my place for a time while I rest, then you will be safe.”

Arthur shook his head. “You can’t do this. It’s too much.”

“Not at all,” said Hastur. “John has you.”

Arthur went dead pale.

John couldn’t go pale, but he felt sure that if he could see himself right now, his color would have leached away, gone from vibrant gold to pale pee in snow. You want me to rule Carcosa?

“Temporarily. None of this is meant to be permanent, John.”

Oh. Oh, this was…

If John had been asked yesterday if he should take over from Hastur until that god got his ass in gear, he’d have said yes. Now that it looked him right in the face, he felt sick. I can’t… I can’t do that.

“You can.”

“What would this entail, exactly?” Arthur said. “You think anyone would be willing to obey us like they do you?”

“Yes. I’m laying the groundwork now.”

Arthur shuddered, hard. “I’m just… nobody is going to follow me. Nobody should follow me.”

“They will be following John,” said Hastur, “who is me. This will help. Lighten my burden, John. If you agree, I will not take Sunny within myself. You have my guarantee.”

There was no other way. Rex. He’d chosen this path for himself. This was where it got him… and he would win. I agree.

“John,” Arthur whispered.

John squeezed his hand. We’ve got this. The answer is yes.

“I am relieved. Thank you,” said Hastur simply, and flew back down while his passengers twisted in new and frightening knowledge. Hastur’s persona wrapped back around him like a cloak, reflecting power, vibrating pride, and he resumed adjudicating as if nothing at all had happened.

Arthur waited until the noise rose, until the laughter and voices grew high enough to cover his murmur. “Is this what you and Sunny talked about?”

Yes. No, it had not been. It had not, and John had a nagging feeling Sunny would be upset if he found out what happened. Sunny was wise, but not always rational.

Well, John would handle that too. He would. He could. He knew what was best here, even if Sunny did not. He was taking care of his people.

More supplicants made their way past, shuffling, sliming, floating. Praise was heaped on Hastur for being wise and powerful, the ever-flowing fountain of fear and glorious madness.

“It’s going to be all right, John,” Arthur said softly, catching John’s twitching hand to still it. “We’ve faced worse odds. All the odds are ours this time around. Even if you screw up, it’ll be brushed under the rug because they think you’re a child.” Very carefully, he added, “It’s not our first time working through that, either. We’ll make it through.”

John let out a low noise. What does that mean? Not the first time working through that.

Arthur hesitated.

It was never great when Arthur hesitated.

John suddenly didn’t want to know. Not now. Maybe they could breeze past this, and Arthur could forget he asked at all. I trust you, Arthur. Communication. Sunny had talked about communication, about talking, and he and Parker were together so that must mean he’d gotten it right. I trust you won’t let me make a fool of myself, John said finally.

“I won’t.” Arthur threaded his fingers between John’s.

I don’t want to mess this up. 

Arthur sighed. “Remember. It’s not about messing it up. It’s about what you do after.”

Time for a terribly unkingly question. Will… will you still love me even if I do fuck up?

Arthur’s smile was soft, beautiful in the mirrors. “John, if there’s one thing I think you and I have proven, absolutely nothing can drive us apart—including each other.”

All right. Good. John sighed deeply. I want to play jazz after court. And I want to practice walking.

“We can do both,” Arthur promised, and John knew Arthur (King’s own, his own) always tried to keep his word, just as he should.

[helenadurazzo]

Returning the Egg

Here is another part to the story of Garreth Weasley, Poppy Sweeting, and Zsuzsi Schröder’s story as they returned the egg that discovered at Horntail Hall

“So you think you found the dragon?” Zsuzsi asked as she and Garreth followed Poppy’s quick footsteps.

“Yes and I hope my suspicions are correct.” Poppy informed them, once again carefully holding the dragon egg, “I have not been able to stop thinking about what we saw at Horntail Hall, it makes my blood boil. Those poor dragons in the fighting ring, restrained by collars when fighting and chains when they are not.”

“So how did you manage to find out the location of the dragon’s nest and so quickly?” Garreth questioned.

“I plotted where Horntail Hall would be located on a map and tracked her flight.” Poppy explained, moving around one of her hands as if imitating the locations she traced, “And I was able to narrow it down to this particular place, and it fits with the typical habitat of Hebridean Blacks.”

Zsuzsi smiled, “You certainly know what you are doing, well done.”

“Thank you.” Poppy beamed like the sun, “Like I said, I can’t be certain this is the correct location but I do have a few other possibilities if this isn’t the place.”

They walked for a little while longer only sharing casual bits of conversation. Most of it centered around their classes. Garreth talked about how his aunt had been on his tail after his most recent potion experiment while Poppy talked about how she and Marie managed to save a Kneazle from being tormented by some students on school grounds. Although the story puzzled Zsuzsi as she recalled almost vividly that her roommate was allergic to kneazles, stating that it must have been a family thing as her maternal grandmother was also allergic.

Poppy suddenly stopped at what Zsuzsi assumed to be the proper location which was quickly confirmed by the sound of a roaring dragon. A snowy ruined castle far away from any other structure, perhaps it was once owned by medieval Scottish lords and ruled a village that was burned by the fire of a dragon

“This is the place.” Poppy determined as she turned towards them. “And if we can hear her we can certainly find her. I am not surprised, this terrain is exactly where they would feel most comfortable. The poachers must have done their research as well, they probably found her here, camping and logging her patterns. They probably nabbed her first and then her egg. Dragons are hard enough to wrangle, especially maternal ones”

Garreth looked to be quite impressed with Poppy’s analysis, “You got all of that from simply standing here?”

Poppy chuckled, “You would be surprised how easy it is to think like a poacher. Now let’s act quick, we need to return her egg before she assumes we are stealing it in the first place. Hopefully it will be the last time I have to drag you both along.”

“Do not worry about it.” Zsuzsi assured Poppy, “We are here for you.”

“Zsuzsi’s right.” Garreth agreed, “These poachers can’t keep getting away with these heinous crimes. Now let’s go return this egg, shall we?”

“We shall.” Poppy smiled, more confidently, as she once again, led the way through the snowy ruins

“Poor thing must be worried sick.” Zsuzsi stated as they hurried along the rocky terrain, “I know I would be if I was a dragon without my egg.”

“Well you certainly act like a dragon sometimes.” Garreth sarcastically joked.

“And you’ll become dragon food if you make jokes like that.” Zsuzsi fought back.

Poppy calmly stopped their bickering with another question, “How many people do you think they brought to capture her and her egg?”

“Probably at least ten.” Garreth assumed, “Dragonologists have a hard enough time with dragons when they aren’t trying to capture them against their will.”

The path was certainly a fascinating one. The dragon flew and roared over them a number of times. And the three of them also faced a couple of wolves which were luckily able to be taken out using difindo and stupefy. It seemed as if this place had been abandoned for a while judging by all the broken bridges, luckily, it was nothing that a simple reparo couldn’t resolve in the blink of an eye.

Poppy always had an interesting way of saying questions that would make you stop and think, and her asking, “I wonder how good her eyesight is?” was no exception to that.

“What do you mean by that?” Zsuzsi asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well I don’t imagine the poachers treated her or fed her well. After all, it’s not like he went on a high class holiday.” Poppy explained to the group, although Zsuzsi suspected Garreth was not paying attention judging by the observing he was doing of some nearby leaping toadstools. “And we are certainly far away from her and probably look exactly like sheep to her, and Hebridean Black Dragons love sheep.”

“Well let’s hope she doesn’t mistake us for sheep.” Garreth suddenly spoke, seemingly paying attention.

“Agreed.” Zsuzsi added as they reached another part of the stone ruins, with walls every so often on either side that were big enough to hide behind if you got close to the ground.

Suddenly the dragon flew over them in a rage. Zsuzsi watched with wide eyes as it burned whatever what it was in its path. In fact, she probably would have been a burnt to a crisp in Garreth had not pulled her behind one of the old stone walls he and Poppy were using as a barrier. Zsuzsi watched as Poppy peaked over the wall, Zsuzsi did the same and watched as the dragon perched itself like a bird on a particularly thick stone arch.

“It’s now or never.” Garreth stated.

“Right.” Poppy agreed with a nervously confident smile, moving a stand of her brown hair that had fallen onto her face with a shaky yet still firm hand, “We just need to make sure we don’t hurt or frighten here any more than she already is, I can’t imagine what trauma the poachers put her under.”

“There’s a break in the flames,” Zsuzsi whispered where the dragon appeared to stop to rest, “We can make it to the next wall, follow me!” She instructed as she quickly sprinted to the next wall, ducking behind it just as the dragon let loose its firery breath once again. She looked behind her to see that Garreth and Poppy missed the flames as well, but as Garreth was trying to get up into a better position to run if needed, Zsuzsi assumed either tripped or stumbled when the intensely hot flames appeared.

“Good strategy.” Garreth complimented her, as he waited for the flames to cease, once they did he volunteered, “Let’s try it again, this time I’ll take the lead, I believe we can get further if we do our moves right, and the faster we get away from her flames, the faster we can return her egg and get out of here. I’ll draw her attention, follow me when it’s safe.”

“Go whenever you are ready.” Zsuzsi accepted with a smile, “We will follow your lead.”

“And be careful to Gar.” Poppy warned him, “This is her domain after all, and she certainly isn’t afraid to prove that point.”

Zsuzsi watched as Garreth sprinted quickly towards the left as if he was running away. Remarkably, the dragon flew in that direction and fool for Garreth’s diversion. As she gained speed, he quickly changed directions to confuse the majestic beast and watched successfully as she flew away, almost as if she was chasing something else yet it didn’t matter. After that, he ran safety to the arch, with Poppy following her to get towards it as well.

“Not a warm welcome.” Poppy remarked, holding the egg tightly when Zsuzsi could have sworn it jittered in Poppy’s arms.

Garreth sarcastically joked, “A bit too warm if you ask me. That should buy us some valuable time.”

“I don’t suppose she will listen to reason?” Zsuzsi asked Poppy as they continued on the path lightheartedly.

“I’d normally try.” Poppy admitted, “but we passed that path a while ago.”

Garreth looked out in the distance and seemed to point towards something in his line of vision confidently, “If we can get to that entrance, we can get to the nest!” He confidently proclaimed.

Poppy glanced behind herself, “We need to be quick though, she is heading back. But if this is where she is going than that is sure to be where her nest is!”

“What are we standing around here for then.” Zsuzsi remarked, “Let’s go faster!”

“Way ahead of you Schröder.” Garreth smirked as he turned his walked into more of a sprint, allowing Zsuzsi and Poppy to keep up with his pace.

They kept up their pace for a while, until at least they saw another broken bridge, Poppy sighed in irritation, “Why does every bridge around you have to be broken, everything else is in tact, why not the bridges?”

Garreth shrugged, “Well it’s not like we don’t know how to fix a broken bridge.” He pointed his wand at the broken bridge firmly, “Reparo!” And watched with satisfaction as the boards that had fallen offer went back into place in a matter of brief seconds.

“Perhaps the poachers destroyed them?” Zsuzsi proposed.

“Maybe…” Poppy pondered, shaking her head before she made her next statement as she looked at the path ahead of her as they walked across the newly repaired bridge, “The nest looks likes it is just over there.” She said, pointing at a ledge not too far from where they currently were, “We just need to place the egg there and get out of here without making much fuss.”

“That means no explosions Garreth.” Zsuzsi clarified, crossing her arms.

Poppy got to the nest first and calmly and carefully placed the purple egg back inside where it belonged. However, the moment was entirely as peaceful or serene as Zsuzsi would have preferred. She watched hesitantly as the dragon once again flew over them and landed just behind the nest, roaring at them loudly but not breathing any fire which Zsuzsi assumed was at least not the worst thing that could happen. Poppy in fact nearly fell of the edge but managed to catch herself, looking down at where she could have very well fallen to her death. Zsuzsi watched as her Hufflepuff friend looked at the Hebridean Black dragon who had seemed to calm down and now only quietly grunted, Poppy almost pet it as if it was a cat but before she could, the dragon stepped back, took the egg in its mouth, and flew away to another location, the whole situation left Garreth and Poppy in a state of nervous shock and Zsuzsi assumed she looked the same way as her companions, watching the dragon as it flew into the distance, becoming smaller and smaller with time as it eventually crossed the mountains and then the horizon

Poppy was the first to catch her breath, “That was brilliant!” She exclaimed, “That was certainly a clever mission we performed, and none of us even got a scratch! What a success!”

“And my aunt never found out we had a dragon egg!” Garreth smiled, “Looks like we escaped a possible detention.”

“Creatures are a lot cleverer than most people realize.” Zsuzsi stated, still looking off into the distance.

Poppy smiled warmly at Zsuzsi, “That’s what my Gran always says! The important thing is that we survived this together. And we returned her egg. Thank you both for doing this with me. I wouldn’t blame either of you one bit if you wanted to head back to the castle and never think about dragons again.”

Garreth almost looked disappointed, “I was hoping we could look around for a moment, if you ladies don’t mind. I want to take it all in, don’t know the next time I’ll be in such an interesting locale.”

“I suppose we could catch our breath.” Zsuzsi agreed, “You ok with that Poppy?”

“Of course!” She smiled as she walked around, Zsuzsi stayed close to her examine the left of the area while Garreth focused more on the right, suddenly Poppy started again with her queries, “I wonder how long she lived here, or where she will go now, she certainly doesn’t want to take her chances.”

“You know.” Zsuzsi remarked, “After our dragon rescue at Horntail Hall. I half expected we would be ambushed by poachers on our journey here. We did sabotage their fighting ring and steal a dragon egg from them after all.”

“True. True.” Poppy agreed before speaking much more quietly as if in fear of being over heard, “So why didn’t they come after us? It’s not like them…unless…”

“Unless what?” Zsuzsi asked.

“Unless they haven’t let things lie!” She exclaimed with a panicked look.

“What do you mean?” Zsuzsi asked in a concerned tone.

“Why didn’t I see it before!” Poppy spoke quickly and rapidly in a tone that matched her expression, “You two can stay here if you like but I need to leave and send an owl” she finished before quickly running off across the bridge and back the way the three of them came.

Zsuzsi looked in surprise as Poppy ran off as Garreth approached her, “Everything alright?”

“I don’t know…”

Garreth raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, “Do you really think that lowly of me Zsu?”

[rafor]

Chapter 31 - Nightmare - The Glitch

I have always been drawn to empty spaces, but I don’t know why. They fascinate me and repel me at the same time. Last night, I had a strange dream that haunted me. It was more than a dream. It was a journey into a land where darkness reigned supreme and daylight was a feeble flicker. I was curious about this place, so I wandered around. There was no sign of life, only barren rocks and somber trees with black leaves and darker bark. I felt no fear, only boredom. I wondered why my dream was so dull and lifeless. Why couldn’t I change it to something more exciting? I tried to use my imagination, but it failed me. I grew tired of this bleak landscape, so I summoned my wings. They were the only thing that still worked in this dream, and I flew away. But the land stretched on forever, with no end in sight. I had to land eventually. There was nowhere else to go. That’s when I noticed some shadows moving in the distance, as if controlled by an unseen force. I followed them, hoping to find something interesting. I even entered a cave that led to an ancient dungeon, but I lost track of the shadows and found nothing else. I used the light from my wings to look for an exit, but I was hopelessly lost. Then I heard a sound. A heavy thud, like a dragon’s footstep, or something worse. I ran away from it, but the sound grew louder and closer, no matter how far I ran. Everything was confusing and terrifying until I heard a voice say, “A visitor, how nice.” I didn’t recognize the voice, so I didn’t answer. I stayed still and hid my wings, hoping to blend in with the wall. But I felt something touch my shoulder gently, even though I was against the wall. I turned around, fearing for my life, and backed away from the wall. Then I saw it. A dragon made of shadows. Some torches lit up by themselves, as if he wanted me to see him clearly. He was a huge shadow dragon, larger than any other dragon I had ever seen. He spoke again: “What is a human doing here in the middle of the night?” I didn’t answer. What could I say? That this was all a dream and he wasn’t real? As soon as I tried to move away from him, he said, “Don’t bother running away. You’ll only get more lost, and I’ll find you easily. So tell me, what are you doing here?” This time I answered, “Nothing, just passing through.” He said, “Just passing through? Or looking for something?” I wasn’t looking for anything, so I said, “No, I’m not looking for anything.” He said, “I see. Well, maybe there’s a way out of this for you. What do you think?” I didn’t answer, so he continued, “I understand. Let me tell you what’s going on then. Or do you already know?” I said, “What are you talking about?” He explained, “Listen carefully. You’re asleep right now, aren’t you? You’re trapped in a place where you don’t belong, and you want to go back home. I can help you with that. I know every corner of this world. All you have to do is tell me where you are exactly right now.” I felt uneasy and started to realize that this wasn’t just a figment of my imagination. I didn’t know what to say to him. After a while, I said, “Thank you for your offer, but someone will come for me soon and take me back home. It will be like nothing ever happened.” He paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully, but all he said was, “You’re lost.” Then he added, “Come with me anyway. Let me show you something.” He led me to a room with shiny walls that reflected everything.

The walls of the room shifted, revealing another scene: the gates of the Kingdom of Aura. But the city was deserted, a ghostly echo of its former glory. A voice asked me, “Do you recognize this place?” I hesitated, unsure if I should answer. He was probing me for something, but I didn’t know what. I decided to be honest. “I do.” paused and added, “Why?” it said, “Do you want to return there?” I said, “Yes, but why are you asking me this?” He said, “What’s wrong with a little conversation?” I fell silent, and he changed the scene again. This time, it was a frozen land, with a distant kingdom shrouded in snow. Still no sign of life. He asked me, “Do you recognize this place too?” I said, “No, I’ve never seen it.” He said, “Do you want to visit it? I can tell you how to reach it safely. It’s not as bad as it looks, once you get past the storms and the cold.” I said, “Thanks, but no thanks. I have no interest in going there.” The place looked inhospitable and unwelcoming, despite his words. I asked him, “Alright, I appreciate your help, but I don’t even know who you are. Can I ask you, who are you?” He said in a mysterious tone, “Are you sure you want to know?” I said, “I want to know who I’m talking to. Who are you?” He began a long and pompous introduction that made me realize he was not well-liked. “I’m a master of dark magic, thousands of years old. I’ve been here since the dawn of civilization. Guarding the world and studying everything in it, and especially studying rare phenomena, like you, human Raphael,” Suspicious, I said, “Wait, how do you know my name? And how do you know that I’m human?” He said, “Someone told me, or maybe I just know everything.” He showed me another scene. I ignored it and said, “You can’t know everything. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be asking me where I am.” He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he kept changing the scenes rapidly, showing me various places, including the kingdom of the wyverns before its fall. It was a magnificent and opulent kingdom. I couldn’t help but react to that sight, and he noticed my expression. He said, “Do you recognize this place?” I lied and said, “No, but it looks beautiful. Why?” He didn’t answer, and then he switched to the kingdom of the Whispering Wind. There, I was surprised again to see the same kingdom I was in now, but smaller and weaker than its current state. He figured something out. This time he said, “You’re here, and you need to leave. I know the way out. Just let me help you.” I said, “Again, thanks, but no thanks. I don’t need to leave.” He said menacingly, “You should. Trust me. It’s for your own good. You’re in danger here.” I felt a surge of fear. I didn’t sense any danger in this place. I knew that nothing could harm me there. Even if they tried, nothing could really hurt me, or so I thought.

The dark master dragon, whose name I still didn’t know, lost his patience and yelled at me, “Damn it. Accept my help! It’s for your own good! Listen to me and follow me, and you’ll be safe, Raphael!” I didn’t like his tone at all. It sounded more like a command than a warning. Confident in myself, I said, “You’re very persistent. Even though you’re the ancient dragon you claim to be, thank you, but I don’t need your help. Goodbye.” I started to walk out of the room. He didn’t do anything until, when I was about to take my first step outside, he said, “You won’t make it out alive. This is your last chance. Listen to me.” I summoned my wings and, without looking back, flew through the maze that surrounded me. He extinguished every torch along the way, and then I heard him shout one last time, “You won’t make it! You’re on your own! Good luck!” As soon as he said that, an earthquake shook the ground, and everything began to collapse. Even though I knew this was a dream, I flew for my life.

A shadow emerged from the darkness. It had my shape, but it was silent and ethereal. It gestured for me to follow it, and I hesitated. I did not trust this apparition, but the dungeon was collapsing around me, and I had no other choice. I followed the shadow through the crumbling corridors until we reached the exit. Outside, the light was blinding; it didn't look anymore like the shadowy lands of before. I turned to the shadow and said, “Whoever you are, thank you.” I expected no answer, thinking it was part of the dream, but it spoke. It had my voice. “You’re welcome, human Raphael.” I recognized those words from somewhere. I looked at the shadow more closely. It was like a ghostly version of me. It seemed familiar somehow. I asked, “Do I know you?” It replied, “Possibly. Do I know you too?” I said, confused, “I’m not sure.” It changed the subject. “It doesn’t matter. Of course you have a knack for avoiding bad deals, you know?” I asked, “What do you mean? Are you talking about the shadow dragon I just escaped from?” It said, “Every kind. Good job! Anyway, it’s time to wake up. Maybe we’ll meet again. Good luck.” I wanted to say, “Thank you for everything. Goodbye,” but before I could, I woke up in the same place where I had fallen asleep: the kingdom of Freya. I was fine, but a little worried. The dream was so vivid and detailed. Had I just met the dark lord or something? I wondered about that for a while before getting out of bed. Outside, it was still dark, but the sun was about to rise. Then I heard something that I thought I had left behind. A voice again, but not the one I had just conversed with. “Good morning! How are you doing? I see you’re awake!” I thought, annoyed, “Please stop,” and it replied, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. Did you have a bad dream?” This time I answered, “What a nightmare! Who are you, anyway? Am I going crazy or what?” She said, “Not yet. You’re not crazy. Come on, you should recognize my voice. My name starts and ends with an A.” I said, almost certain, “Akira? Wow, I didn’t know you could do this.” I said that while pushing my hand against the wall to release some of the anger that was building up inside me. Akira said, “Sooo... how’s it going?” I said, “I’ve been here for one day, and I've already discovered that sleeping is dangerous.” She said, worriedly, “Oh no! You can’t avoid sleeping forever! Good luck with that!” I said sternly, “It’s not funny.” I took a pen and wrote on a piece of paper what had happened in my dream so that I could study it later. While I was writing, she kept quiet until she saw me mention the dark master shadow dragon and exclaimed involuntarily, “Holy shit! Already?!” I said, “What? Are you okay? What did you say?” She sounded worried and embarrassed, as if she had revealed something she shouldn’t have: “Did you really see the dark lord in your dream?” I said, “I don’t know if he was the dark lord. He called himself ‘an ancient dark master’. How do you know that? Did you read what I wrote?” She admitted: “I may have peeked at your paper... I’m sorry for invading your privacy. I’ll leave now and let you be. But please don’t show that to anyone or talk about it with anyone else seriously. We’ll discuss it when we get you back.” I said, “It’s okay. I’ll keep this safe and secret, as you said. Thanks.” She didn’t reply. She had already left. I was alone in a silent room near a bed on a giant desk in total silence. Work could wait. It was still too early in the morning. I had to write down the dream before it faded from my memory.