#See a funny little duck outside and go 'hmm... life is okay actually :) I no longer want to break windows :3'

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Adore You II (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: secret admirer Yamato fic. said that this one would be short, but i once again have gotten carried away. Here is the ending. It should be cute. thanks for reading. 

Word count: 3200

It had been a long day at the bakery, full of kneading breads and selling cupcakes and just generally doing some busy work around the store. Life was uneventful, except for the moments she arrived at her apartment in the evenings just as the sun was setting, and she’d find a new gift lying on the ground or a note taped to her door.

 It was nice, having these little surprises either at the beginning or ending of her day. In fact, she was growing all too used to the confidence boost the sweet love letters gave her. 

Apparently, she was beautiful. She was strong and kind and generous and funny, and so many other things all stated and elaborated on in these notes. She was high off those letters. They made her feel just a bit better about herself. Even after long days of work where her hair was falling out its tie and her skin dusted with flour and chocolate frosting smeared across her dirty apron, she still felt on top of the world.

Every day she grew more and more curious as to who was leaving those notes lying around. It really could be anyone, even someone she barely knew. In that case, she had no idea what she would do. Yes, the person in question seemed nice, but she didn’t exactly feel comfortable dating someone she didn’t know or like. 

And if it was someone she knew, what would she do then? Could they stay friends after all this mess? She would try, but would it be too awkward for them to be around her after spilling their feelings over and over again?

Just thinking about the outcomes of this secret admirer situation was overwhelming and she avoided the thought. She would just enjoy the acts of admiration from the comfort of her own home.

It had actually been three days since the last gift was left outside her door and she was beginning to grow excited. If he was gone for another few days, surely she could go around and figure out who was on a mission for the entire week. The turning point was almost here, she thought. Only a few more days until she could find out. It was both scary and exhilarating to think about.

As she rounded the corner to her apartment, walking up the metal stairs, she expected nothing at her door once again. That only made sense. Definitely not a person standing there, no way.

She certainly did not expect to see Kakashi standing at her doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers. Just as quick as she had seen, she ducked back behind the wall, hand pressed to her mouth to shush her gasp.

What the fuck…

That was definitely him, she confirmed in her mind. The same white hair, mask, jounin vest, everything. Her heart raced and she felt panic creeping up her neck. How could this be? Kakashi was her friend, and only her friend. She thought that had been established a long time ago. There was nothing intimate going on between them, and she never anticipated there would be. 

She waited until he was gone before she walked to her apartment and picked up the flowers and note. She swore that this wasn’t Kakashi’s handwriting, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe it was and she was just remembering wrong. Why was she even questioning herself though? Right in front of her eyes, she saw Kakashi leaving flowers at her doorstep. The answer was clear as day.

Kakashi was her secret admirer.

The more she thought about it, it made a little sense. He always accepted her free baked goods, but she always just assumed he didn’t feel like buying his own bread. And he walked her home from the store on more than one occasion. He was nice to her every time they hung out. All of those things she always just assumed were normal friendly things to Kakashi, but she found herself questioning his every move now. 

Oh man. Oh shit. How would she even go about confronting him? He was such a cool and collected guy, she would feel awkward rejecting him. Would he be angry? Another thought crossed her mind for a moment. Maybe she shouldn’t reject him. He was a very smart and kind man, and he always knew what to say even in the worst of moments. He was reliable and strong and forgiving.

Maybe she should just go for it. 

Yeah, she cared for Yamato a lot, but why keep trying for someone completely unattainable when another guy she got along with was ready to give her the entire world? From the way he spoke in his letters, he liked her for a long time and intended to make her his long term girlfriend. It broke her heart that the man she spent years longing after didn’t feel the same way, so much time wasted. It really sucked.

She had been lonely for so long that the thought was more than tempting. 

It was all way too much to think about.

She entered her apartment that night with a lot to ponder before she fell asleep, tossing and turning with the knowledge that Kakashi was in love with her. How could she sleep knowing that? She would have to talk to someone else first before deciding what to do about everything. She would wait for Yamato to come back and help her out. He’d know what to do. 

_______

It had been days since she found out about Kakashi and this entire mess. Yamato was due to be back today, and she was counting the minutes. She already asked off work for the rest of the day so she could get all her business sorted out. There was just too much to do and she couldn’t wait until night time to get it all done. 

Awkwardly enough, on her way to see Yamato, she ran right into Kakashi outside the grocery store. He was carrying quite a big bag of food items, and she nearly knocked them all right out of his arms. She yelped, jumping back about two feet to keep her distance. Being so close to him felt nerve-wracking. 

“Y/N, what’s up?” he asked, his eyes scanning her up and down. “You look nervous."

“Me, nervous? Psssshh, of course not. Why would I be nervous?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”

She stood there for a silent moment, her eyes drawn right on his face. He didn’t look different. He looked like his normal, cool self, definitely not like a man in love with her. He was damn good at hiding how he felt. She rubbed the back of her neck, her eyes averted now to the wall beside her. “So, uh, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing much, Just got back from a mission and I’m going to be home for a few days so decided to get some groceries.”

“Oh, really? How long were you on that mission?”

“It was only 2 days.”

“I see…”

Why was she asking? She saw him. There was no way he was on a mission that night. He was right there. Maybe all this questioning was a sign that she wished this was all some sort of mistake, that it wasn’t Kakashi at her doorstep, or maybe they were pranking her. A cruel and unlikely prank, but still, it was a possibility.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he questioned and he leaned in just a bit closer to get a look at her face. The woman found herself getting flustered. Quickly, she pressed her hands to his chest and pushed him away. 

“I’m fine. Just stay over there.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely not fine but whatever you say.”

She bit her lip, not knowing how to diffuse the situation. He was right, as usual. Things were definitely not okay, she just wasn’t ready to face the reality that he loved her, not here in front of the grocery store in the broad daylight. That was meant to be private. She couldn’t reject him like that, it would be humiliating.

“It’s nothing, Kakashi. I’m just...getting sick is all, so you shouldn’t get so close.”

But he persisted. “Sick with what?”

“I don’t know, the flu?”

“Hmm,” he nodded, but his eyes were all knowing and she found herself wanting to slither away on the ground and hide in an alley for a while. “You’re on your way to see Tenzo, right?” How? How could he have known that? She swore, this man was getting on her last nerve with his smartass attitude.

“Yes. How could you tell?”

He smirked through his mask, shifting the weight of his grocery bag to his left side. “Well, he just got home today, and the only reason you’d be walking that fast is so you could see him,” he replied, and she nodded grumpily, her arms moving to cross over her chest.  “I’ll let you go. He should be leaving the Hokage Tower soon, I just saw him heading in that direction.”

She thanked him before continuing on her path to go find Yamato. She was actually glad to be done talking to Kakashi. It felt way too weird talking to him knowing all the things he was secretly thinking about her. Plus, he was getting annoying with all the questions. She just wanted to find her friend and talk through her options.

It saddened her, but Yamato was never going to like her back and maybe Kakashi was the best choice for her. In this town, if you got to 25 without getting married you were pretty weird, especially if you weren’t a shinobi. Villagers get married off so quickly, it’s just part of the small town nature of it all. Parents want grandchildren, and it’s easier to live off a two person income. People got married young. 

Societal pressure would definitely be taken off her back, that’s for sure. It just wasn’t exactly as she had planned. One sided love.

Yamato was indeed walking home from the Hokage Tower when she spotted him after having wallowed in her own thoughts for the entire walk over.

“Yamato!” she called, running up to him. He stopped in his tracks, feeling himself growing warm again. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her, granted that was only a week ago. He wanted to give her a hug, having missed her for the last 7 days and all, but he refrained. He had no idea how she would react. Knowing her kind nature, she would hug him back, but then what would she think? He liked her? It was too embarrassing.

He looked down at the young woman and smiled. “Y/N, did you need something?”

“Yes, it’s really important. Do you think we can sit down somewhere more private?”

Oh God. Whatever she wanted to talk about, it couldn’;t be anything good. She wasn’t smiling, and normally she would have work right now. She wasn’t going to take off work for nothing. He nodded, and she silently dragged him over to the tea shop, her eyes flickering around to make sure Kakashi hadn’t trailed behind her. She took a seat at one of the tables and motioned for him to sit across from her.

He did as she asked, sitting cross legged on the floor, his hands secretly being wrung over and over again under the table. “So what did you need to talk about?”

“I know who my secret admirer is.”

Here it goes…

“Kakashi!”

“Wait, what?” His eyes shot open, and he froze. He was not expecting that, not at all. How could he? Yamato was Y/N’s secret admirer, it didn’t make sense. He made sure Kakashi knew to leave the flowers on her doorstep in secret, there was no way he would mess up something so simple. He was an S-rank ninja for a reason. 

She nodded, her eyes almost as wide as his. “Yeah, I know. I couldn’t believe it when I saw him.”

“What did you see?”

“When I was coming home from work, I saw him outside my door with a bunch of roses and a note. It was in the same handwriting as all the other love notes, so I know it’s the same guy. I-I just can’t believe it’s Kakashi.”

Yamato knew he should have confessed right then instead of asking, but he couldn’t keep himself from knowing the truth. “Well, how do you feel about him? Are you going to accept?”

She sighed, her eyes trailing down to the side. “That’s the hard part. His words, in those letters, they made me feel so special and loved. If Kakashi feels that way about me, surely he can make me happy for a long time,” she told him softly, and he could feel his heart tearing in half with every second that passed. He put in all this effort, and for what? For his friend to steal the girl right from him. He felt a terrible pain in his stomach, and he had to keep the discomfort from reaching his face.

“So, you’re attracted to him?” His worst fear. He knew the ladies liked Kakashi. He was suave and handsome. It would make sense if Y/N liked him. Who didn’t like Kakashi? 

His own self-esteem was diminishing. Out of all the outcomes he had thought up in his head on how this confession would go, he never expected it to end up this way. 

She shook her head. Carefully, she explained, “It’s just that I’ve loved someone else for a long time, and I’m not ready to give up on them. I know I should, but I just can’t.”

It was time to tell her. His hopes were low, but her confession left him feeling like there was a chance. He wasn’t planning on telling her any time soon, not until he was positive she liked him back, or even wait for her to figure it out herself so she could come to him. He really wasn’t one for expressing his feelings like this. He was Anbu, that wasn’t their way of life. 

He was scared. Scared of the rejection and then what would follow. The fallout and the avoidance. The dissolving of their entire friendship. Yamato was afraid of what this one little woman thought of him, and it took everything in him to  muster up his next words.

“Y/N, your secret admirer is not Kakashi, it’s me. It's been me the whole time.”

Her lips quickly fell into a frown, and he knew that wasn’t a good sign. She tilted her head to the side and asked, her brows furrowed deeply, “How could that be? I saw Kakashi with my own eyes.”

“It’s because I asked him to fake it for me until I got back from my mission,” he groaned, “You said you were going to wait until the next time there was a big break in the gifts coming and then figure out what shinobi it was; well, I was just on a week long mission and I didn’t want you figuring it out so soon. I gave Kakashi some flowers and a note and asked him to leave it there sometime in the middle of my mission, to throw you off my scent.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I guess I should have anticipated Kakashi being late and you finding out, but I hadn’t.”

“Yamato-” Y/N felt relief bubble up in her chest. If Yamato was really her secret admirer, then she had nothing to worry about. It seemed things had worked out too perfectly in her favor. She loved him, wanted nothing more than for him to reciprocate her feelings. And he had. He had spent countless hours planning little surprises for her in the hopes that it would make her happy.

Her heart felt over the moon with happiness. No one had ever went out of their way for her, not like this. But Yamato was different.

“Y/N, I care about you. I care about you a lot, as you can tell from all the letters I wrote for you.” He paused, his eyes rolling to stare up at the ceiling, too nervous to meet her own which were filled with shock. “I know we live completely different lives, and I know you’d rather be with that other guy, but that night you got drunk and you told me you wanted a man to sweep you off your feet and that you were lonely, I thought I’d try.”

“I got drunk and told you I was desperate for a man? When...When did this happen?!” Admittedly, she felt a shot to the gut at that one. How embarrassing. Perhaps, that wasn’t the first thing she could have got from his confession, but she needed to know.

“I don’t know. A month ago?”

“Damn, I’m so embarrassed.”

He groaned once again, covering his eyes with his hand and mumbling, “Yeah, me too, Y/N.”

“Why are you embarrassed?” she asked, noticing his red face and neck. “Yamato, I want to be with you. You are the other guy.” 

“You really don’t have to lie to save my feelings.”

“I’m not lying. Admittedly, when the first gift you left was a bonsai, I immediately thought it could be you because 'tree', but I couldn’t be sure so I waited. I wanted it to be you the entire time, but I just couldn’t see someone as strong as you falling for a simple baker. I thought you’d be into other shinobi. I mean, they are more interesting than little old me.”

He reached over the table to grab her hands, and immediately he cringed. All this drama was making his hands sweat, and he didn’t want her to think of him as the sweaty hands guy. He scolded himself immediately after having the thought. She’s not gonna care, don’t be so nervous. Tell her how you feel. 

“Stop. Y/N, all I care about is you. You are the most beautiful, smart, kind, and interesting woman I’ve ever met. You’re amazing. You work so hard at the bakery. You aren’t simple at all.”

“Yama...”

“Please, just be with me. It took me a lot of courage to tell you how I feel, just say yes and accept that I love you for you.”

“O-okay. I’m so happy. I just can’t believe this is happening.”

A smile grew on his lips, and she let a goofy one take over her own expression. He never looked this happy, and she realized it was all because of her. Her heart  jumped in her chest, and she squeezed his hands, feeling herself growing warm with happiness. His sweet words filled her ears and she laughed. “I promise I will treat you like a princess. I will not let you down.”

“Okay. I promise to treat you like my knight in shining armor.” His heart fluttered again. She was the one for him. He was sure of it. His cold exterior had grown soft and warm because of her, and he loved it. He loved her.

“Deal.”

They ordered their tea and sat their just relishing in the fact that for once, everything worked out for the awkward, terribly lightweight baker and her anxious, ungracefully stupid shinobi that she was hoping for all along.

#yamato x reader #yamato tenzo #naruto x reader #naruto imagine #naruto one shot #naruto #yamato one shot #yamato imagine #naruto shippuden

[nagito-kissmaeda]

A Lapse In Judgement - Part 5

CHAPTER ONE: A Dangrous Present CHAPTER TWO: A Past Forgotten CHAPTER THREE: A Foreshadowing CHAPTER FOUR: One Possible Conclusion CHAPTER FIVE: Untethered

Komaeda Nagito x Ultimate Empath!Reader

Summary: Just a normal day at Hope's Peak Contains: she/her pronouns, gitches, blood and gore, rejection Read on AO3

“So. Are you doing it today?” Koizumi asks, giving you a knowing smirk from her desk. It is a good ten minutes into lunchtime and the afternoon sun is cascading in through the open window. It’s a beautiful day, and you would usually be outside if you didnt have more important matters to attend to.

You are halfway through sealing a very fancy envelope with a collection of decorative stickers, but you still manage to shoot Koizumi a glare. Pointedly staring at her left cheekbone instead of into her eyes.

She laughs, “hey, no need to get all feisty with me. I’ve just seen you toiling away at that letter for over a week now, I’m glad you’ve finally finished it.”

You hum, peeling a sunflower shaped sticker from a sticker sheet and affixing it over the back flap of the envelope, “I had a lot of things to say, and I’m not a very good writer.”

“You sure as hell aren’t!” Another voice scoffs from behind you, and you turn to see Saionji sitting on her desk, swinging her feet back and forth. She clears her throat, “An except: my cheeks burn, my stomach twists! ” Her interpretation of your work is offensively overacted, she clutches her chest and bats her eyes, “ When your eyes lock with mine my heart flutters, when your lips form the syllables of my name I-“

Koizumi throws a pencil at her, you are eternally grateful.

“You memorised it?” You hiss, clutching the envelope protectively

“Yeah, duh.” Saionji rolls her eyes, “I read it over your shoulder like three days ago, it was so funny I had to write it down.” She smirks, “I already showed it to a buncha people.”

“Ugh, what the hell , Saionji?” You exclaim, pressing more stickers to the front of the envelope as angrily as someone can manage, “it’s very personal!”

Koizumi sighs, “yeah Hiyoko. That was pretty insensitive of you.”

You hear the beginnings of some classic Saionji fake tears, but force yourself to ignore it. Popping the cap off of a sharpie and inking a name on the front of your envelope. You try to write as neatly as possible, but it’s hard when your hands are shaking.

“So. Who’s it for?” Saionji asks, over her crying fit already. She leans in to take a peak and you hide the name with your forearm, glaring at her again, “What are you so embarrassed about? Is it someone gross?!”

You don’t answer, your glare grows deeper, but Saionji ignores it.

“Oh yuck! Is it Souda? Is it Hanamura?????”

Koizumi clicks her tongue, but a playful smile tugs at her lips, “yeah if it’s Hanamura we might have to disown you.”

“It’s not Hanamura.” You mutter, resting your chin on the palm of your hand, “just stop trying to guess. It’s only making me more nervous.”

Sitting up from her desk, Koizumi comes over and rubs your arm encouragingly, “hey, I’m sure whoever it is will say yes. You’re great, and your talent is really cool.”

You avert your eyes, “my talent isn’t cool, everyone thinks I’m weird.”

“Yeah, iunno, Koizumi-chan.” Saionji says, “I get shivers up my spine whenever she looks at me with her creepy eyes.”

You gesture weakly in Saionji’s direction, “see? People don’t like having their emotions read, it’s invasive and gross.”

“Hey.” Koizumi starts, giving you a soft smile, “look at me.”

Your gaze is intently focussed on her right eyebrow when you say, “I am looking at you.”

She laughs, “ No , look at me.” She points to her eyes, “right here.”

You swallow. Since starting high school you made a valiant effort to avoid using your talent, people always thought you were weird and creepy, it was hard to make friends, “Come on.” She says, placing her hand over yours, “You can trust me.” you take a shaky breath, and meet her eyes.

Protectiveness, warmth, friendship

You feel yourself soften a little, and Koizumi smiles, “okay. You get it now? We’re your friends. Hiyoko and I are going down to the cafeteria, you stay up here and do whatever you need to.” She stands upright and heads to the door, Saionji falling into step beside her, “let us know how it goes.”

Saionji sticks her tongue out, but does follow it up with a quick, “good luck!” before following Koizumi out of the classroom.

Now that you are alone, your heart starts to race. The envelope feels heavy and almost frightening in your hands. This crush of yours has lasted almost a year now, and this is going to be your first attempt to actually do something about it, you’ve never done anything like this before in your life.

You take a deep breath, and pull yourself up from your desk. Knees wobbling as you head over to the desk of Nagito Komaeda, and slip the envelope inside. Saionji would have teased you relentlessly if she knew it was him the love letter was for, but people think you are weird, and people think he is weird. Being the two weird kids in class meant that you spent a lot of time together, group projects that no one wanted to chance his luck with, or that no one wanted to spend multiple classes avoiding your line of sight during. He liked your talent, he trusted you to be respectful and careful of his feelings. Also his hair looked soft.

The letter asked him to meet the sender around the back of the gym after last period. It did not mention you by name. Until then, you were just going to spend the rest of your day completely normally. So you gave Komaeda’s desk one final look and headed back out of the classroom to go meet Koizumi in the cafeteria.

“Oh! Hey!”

You look down the hallway and see Hajime Hinata jogging up to you. You don’t know him particularly well, he sits at the front of the class at the desk by the window. The front row has five desks, the others only have four, Hinata’s desk is out of line with the rest of them. Like it was an afterthought.

“Hello.” You reply, keeping your gaze focussed on his nose instead of his eyes, “How are you?”

He gives you an awkward smile and rubs the back of his neck with a hand. You notice that his uniform looks weird on him, but you can’t place why. It fits, but it looks like it is moving and shifting on his body in ways that are unnatural, you don’t point it out, “I left my lunch in my desk. I’m coming back to get it.”

“Ah.” You say, “do you want me to wait for you?”

Before he has time to answer, you see a familiar figure coming down the hall and you instinctively grab Hinata by the wrist and tug him down to hide behind a row of lockers. You are too distracted, and don’t notice that Hinata’s uniform is black now instead of brown.

“What are you doing?!” Hinata hisses. You cup a hand over his mouth and hold completely still as Komaeda walks past the two of you and into the classroom. You notice that his vest is stained with what looks like gravy, luck related incident, you assume.

Once Komaeda isn’t visible anymore, you let go of Hinata and scramble over to the doorway. Peering around the corner as subtly as you can. He’s taken off his blazer and hung it over the back of his chair, and is in the middle of working his vest up over his head.

Hinata comes up behind you, peering around the corner as well, “What is Komaeda doing?”

“I think he has a spare vest in his desk.” You whisper, “you need to be quiet.”

Your heart is racing in your chest, and your fingers tighten around the doorframe. Komaeda lifts the top of his desk, and his brow furrows when he sees the letter. Gently picking it up and turning it around in his hand. At one point he looks around the room and you have to duck behind the door to make sure he doesn’t notice you. You can barely breathe.

“Wait. What did he just grab?” Hinata asks you, as the two of you lean back out. You don’t reply.

“Oh my god…” Hinata hisses playfully, “someone left a love letter in Komaeda’s desk?”

You’re still focussed on Komaeda’s long fingers as they slowly tear open the envelope, you see your sunflower sticker fluttering down to the ground. Biting your lip, hands shaking, trying to gauge any response.

“Oh my god!” Hinata hisses much less playfully, “ you left a love letter in Komaeda’s desk?!”

“Shh!!” You say, motioning for Hinata to zip it, “I’m watching.”

Komaeda’s eyes are wide as he starts reading, you can see his hands are trembling. Something you’ve written halfway down the page shocks him, he has to go back and read it again to confirm he understood it properly.

“Hmm...that was probably the bit I wrote about how nice his hands are.” You whine nervously, “oh god , I’ve made myself seem like a creep haven’t I?” You whisper, turning back to look at Hinata.

“Komaeda is not the sort to get creeped out.” Hinata mumbles, “I didn’t even know you liked him.”

Your other hand wraps around the doorframe as you lean out a little more, trying to get a better view of Komaeda’s face, “that’s the point of a secret.”

“I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell him. You know your talent would answer the question for you if you used it right?”

You huff, “I don’t want to use it. I want to be normal .”

“Ļ̴͕̳̮̏̊̌͝͠ͅi̷͕͋̇̿̈́͐̉̈̒̆͂̆͘̚͜͝k̵̨̹͍̩͂̎͑̔̏͂́̽͛͋̓͝e̶̦̣͎͕̦͈͉͖͆́̈́̈́̋̓̊̕ ̵̛̛̛̟̩̺͉͛̄̉̈́͗̃m̷̢̢͖͇̣̞̱̮̱͕̥͂̌ĕ̷̺̝?̶̡̞̬̲͕̜̩̪̫̥̙̦̮͇̉̈̈́͘̚͝”

You freeze, so does Komaeda. The whole school comes to a standstill, “what do you mean, like you?”

When you turn to look at Hinata again, he is gone. You blink your eyes, maybe he just ran off? Either way, your attention was brought back into the classroom by a gentle gasp.

Komaeda has a hand clapped over his mouth, chest heaving as he finishes reading the letter.

Your heart is racing, your knees are starting to hurt from crouching around the corner. You wonder if he knows that it was you

It was you

It wa̷̢̨̖̪̥̹̤̼̭͚͈͑͆͑͆͐̈̆̂̒̍̿́͝͝s you

It was you

It waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaā̵̡̪̦̰͚̭̩̼͎̪͈͋͛͗̃̕͜͝͝ͅạ̵̭͎̥̱͎̹̭̺̰͎̈́͐̒̕a̴̹̜̟̺̞̓͆͒͗͝ä̵̟̼̟̥͎͔̯̯̜́̌̈́̿a̵̹͖͍̙͇̘͍͕͙̅̅͊̌̈́̒̃ạ̴̢̗͉̘̰͉̺̹͍͛͐̆̊͐͘͘͝ͅä̶̡̮͔̹̩̪́̊͒̉̉̕̕͠ă̶̻̓̍̌̚ḁ̵̢̢̢̧̞̱̥̠͕͚̉̋a̴̠͇̻͉̘̐̿͆̄̀̈̀̅̋̅a̷̢̰̙̦̮̘̲̓͝ͅͅa̷̝͖̜̋̈͛̈́̐͌̾̓̃͘s̷̰̻̼̲͓̮̺͌̑̓̃͒̋̏͆̐͌̌̐ ̵̧̙̹̬̞̦̝̓͗͊͌͠ỹ̷̯̯̃́̃̎͋̈́̏̎o̸̩͉͍̗̯̠̙̬̱̩͔̾̅̊̂̾̿̍̌̓̌͘͝u̶̻̳̪̪̻͕̜͜

“Are you alright?” Sensei Yukizome asks.

You blink. Your eyes feel heavy, your brain feels like static. You’re back in class, sitting at your desk. The rest of 77-B has gone quiet, they’re all watching you intently, “I’m...fine.”

Yukizome cocks her head to the side, brows pulled tight with confusion, “Your head hit the desk pretty hard. Are you sure Tsumiki-san doesnt need to have a look at you?”

Not matter how many times you blink, the world never seems to fully come back into focus. You feel sick to your stomach, “What are we doing again?”

“You’re meant to be writing outlines for your practical exams. Descriptions of your strengths and weaknesses, that sort of thing.” She is starting to look very concerned.

You swallow and look down at your page. It’s completely blank, you haven't written anything this whole time, “I havent started…”

When you look over towards the window, your eyes lock on Hinata. He is wearing a white shirt with a green tie. His uniform is completely gone

(Why ạ̴̢̗͉̘̰͉̺̹͍͛͐̆̊͐͘͘͝ͅre there five desks in the front ro̸̩͉͍̗̯̠̙̬̱̩͔̾̅̊̂̾̿̍̌̓̌͘͝w? Why does our clạ̴̢̗͉̘̰͉̺̹͍͛͐̆̊͐͘͘͝ͅss have an odd number of students when no other do̸̩͉͍̗̯̠̙̬̱̩͔̾̅̊̂̾̿̍̌̓̌͘͝es?)

Your head is pounding, and you can feel a distant tether to someone you cannot see or hear. Aching like a phantom limb. You stand up.

“Something is definitely wrong” Yukizome says, backpeddling from your desk when you suddenly shoot up, “Do you want someone to take you to the sick bay?”

You shake your head, “I’m just going to stand by the window for a second. I’m just feeling a little dizzy.”

She nods slowly, “Alright, but if you don't start feeling better, let me know and i'll call your parents, okay?”

“Sure…”

As you walk over to the window, something makes you glance at Hinata’s paper. Something unspooling the memories in the back of your mind whispers, s̵o̵m̴e̶t̵h̵i̴n̸g̸ ̸i̷s̶ ̵n̴o̸t̸ ̵r̷i̵g̴h̸t̵.̵  

Hinata’s paper, which should be a detailed explanation of his talent. Is incomprehensible. A series of jumbled letters and numbers blurring and shifting on the page, like trying to read a book in a dream. Dread seeps inside you, and it becomes a full tidal wave when you look up at the window, and see Hinata is now standing outside. You whirl around and see only the empty space where an extra fifth desk once was, the Hinata inside the classroom is gone.

Ḧ̷̢͓̰̤́̍ḭ̵͎̋̈́̒n̸̩͎͋͐̃̊̑a̸̧͉̻̩͙͗̔̓̚ț̵͎̫͑̈́ḁ̴̛̫̞̫̒ ̴̡͇͙̄̒͛̋w̷̡̮͈̍a̴̧̘͙͌s̷͍̫̫͑̊ ̴̭͎͙̆͑̀͑ņ̷̩̈̌e̸̢̡̧͕͍͆̋̋͊̈v̷̳̼̎̌͐͘ȩ̸̙̱̮͆̂r̸͙̭͔͊̂̈́͘ ̴̧̗̣̠͚̉̏̈́͝͝ẗ̵͍̪́h̵̢̤̏̉ȩ̸̩͔r̴̮͐ē̵̘̰̼̕

Heaving a shaky breath you turn back to the window. You freeze. Eyes locked on the figure lurking down by the tree in the garden, he stands completely still, staring up at you with red eyes that you can feel nothing behind. A maw of darkness chews on you from all sides as your stomach tightens. You’re going to throw up.

The person. (Hinata?) his eyes don’t turn from yours.

nothing nothing nothing nothing

N̸̡̬͕͓̪̝̙̙͙̊͑̎̎̔̎̒͋́͑͜ͅǫ̶̛̗̺̖͊͊͝t̶̼̩̣͔͎̭̜̦͓̂͌͌̓̎͐͆́͜͝ͅḫ̵̢̞̙̯̳͍̼̜̥̰̝̉̈́̀͊͆͐̌͘i̸̡̤͌̓̔̐̂̈́̔̆̇̇̎͌̇ň̴̝̬͔̞̓̔́͛̋́̐̓̾̾͘̕͠ġ̴̢̲̩̼̠͓̗̭̯͍̱̔̈́ ̷̡̳͕͓̗̳͍̣̯̘͚͓̼̠̉̎ń̴͙͚̯̪̤̼̳̹̮̓͛̅̍́̔͒̐̑̏͜͝ó̶̢̪̋͐͋̋͑͐̃̐̀̃͝ͅt̶̢͉̺͕͉̥̽̈́͝h̴̨̨̟̣͇͙̖̉̀i̴̠̲͊͗̌͊̚͘͝ͅn̷̹͒͌͂̕ͅg̷̨͓͔͓͔̹̜̻̙̺͆̽̂͐ ̶̧̛̦̯͍͆͂̈̇̂̇̿͑̐̋n̸̨̧̧͇̼̖̗̗̦͑͆̈́̐̅̓͒̽͂̃̕͝o̴̧̳͎͕̟͒͗̈́̅͑̓́͛͝ẗ̷̨̧̛͍̬͕̫̬̻̰͓̳͗h̷͈̹̻̰̪͍͖͎̿̈́̀͌͌̊̕͜i̵̧̛̫̊̒̈͑̆̈́͘n̷̯̱̓͊̀ģ̶̧̫͇̦̰͕͈̖͓̃͘ ̵̢̨̡̪̪̯͈̾͆̿̃ͅn̵̢̞͚̠̩̦͙͈̰̻̱̩͗͜͜ơ̷̡̲̯̇̽̐t̵͚͓́̓̈́̊̏͌͑̐̋͐̅̈́͘h̶̢̗͈̖͉̪͚͔̏̽̈́i̴̡͍̜͇̗̬̩̺͎͈̐͐n̶̛͕̪̂̽̌̒̃̾̿͌̽g̴̗̲̰͈̜̳̮͙͓̼͍̒̅̂̐͗͋͛͗͜

and just before you bend forward and hurl all over your shoes. His eyes blink once . Bored.

There are stories being told behind your closed eyelids. Stories of death and pain. Your eyes are fluttering and spinning but they wont open, you can't open them. Your talent makes you sick, it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts-

“Ah, good. You’re awake”

Komaeda is sitting in a plastic chair to your right. You are covered from your feet to your collarbones in an itchy blanket. The room smells like hand sanitizer.

“Oh.” You whisper, “I’m in the sick bay?”

“Yes. You lost consciousness by the window.” He laughs nervously, “I carried you over. I figured that studying for the practical exam isn't really something I need to worry about. It’s all going to come down to my luck anyway.”

You nod slowly. Still trying to slot the pieces together in your head. What made you pass out again? Dehydration?

The world is swirling, Komaeda reaches a hand out as if to steady you. His face is little more than a blur and you try to grab his hand as a way to ground yourself as the bed below you feels intangible, “Hey…” He whispers, “are you…”

You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing yourself to focus only on the sound of your breathing. When you open your eyes again, Komaeda is still there, but everything else is gone.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his hair is longer and more unruly, the bags under his eyes are deep and purple. The sky behind his head is a shock of red and smoke, “Your hands are shaking.”

When your eyes snap down to where your hands are gripping his. Bile crawls up your throat, your breath is coming quick and sharp. This doesn't make sense, why is this happening? Your head spins and twists and your heart is beating a rapid tattoo in your chest. The hand that should be gripping Komaeda’s, is instead gripping the limp wrist of a woman's hand, a sickening mixture of purple and black blotting its once pale flesh, red fingernails resting on your wrist. Your other hand is gripping a needle and thread, shaking as you are halfway through tugging a length of fishing line through the bleeding stump of Komaeda’s left forearm.

You shriek and scramble backwards, head colliding with what is once again the wall of the school infirmary. Komaeda pulls his hand back, it is his hand again.

“Ah, sorry. I shouldn't have tried to touch you.” He laughs goodnaturedly, “Even someone who confesses their love to me is too disgusted by my filth. I should have known better.” he smiles, “This is why i must decline your affections, you see, for me to dirty you with my touch. It would be a waste.”

You want to comfort him, to pull him into your arms and tell him that his touch does the opposite of disgusting you, but you can't bring yourself to do it. The sound of your heart beating in your ears is thunderous, you can still smell the rotting flesh of the dead woman's hand, still feel the sting of smoke in your eyes.

S̵̟̥̒̕͝o̵̧̯̔͛m̸̢̛͙̈́̋͛͜e̵̛̲͍̰̿̆͜ţ̶̰͐̈͆ͅh̴̟͐̕ḯ̶͓̤̏͝n̶͔͈̼̙͆̑͂̉g̵̩̖̔͊̊ ̸̢͚̆̐ͅi̶̻̋̔̕͝s̶̢̍̚ ̷̧͚̀͌ẁ̵̛̭̬̘̕͝r̶͎̖͈̋̓o̴̯̹̒̈͗̚n̴͙̲̂̽͘g̸͖͍̽̈́ ̷̫̘̠̾̊w̸͎̻̾i̷̳̮̫͊̏̇t̵̛͇̚h̴̤͙͆͗̍ ̷̨͚̹͇̃y̸̲̦̓̉́o̸͚͋̓͊͝ủ̶̹͖̈́.̵͖̔̔͋͘

Then. A realisation.

“Wait. Confess their love to you?”

“The note you left.” His head cocks to the side, “Did you forget? You had written so many kind things about me, I can't even believe half of them.” He sighs and his eyes attempt to meet yours. You stare at his shoulder instead, “I would not want you to waste your affections on me. You can do infinitely better.”

“Are you...rejecting me?”

Komaeda gives you a sad smile. The walls of the sick bay flicker and turn to static behind his head, “Please don’t misunderstand. You are wonderful, that you even confessed to me at all is...outstanding, you have so much to give and you shouldn't waste your love on someone who

is ğ̸̰̫͍̰̥̌̊̌̃͊̾͘͝͠͠o̴̰̊i̷̩͙͖͓͒͐̽̑́̈́̑͝ͅn̷̢̡̼̼̩̘̪͍̼̻̖̙̓̆̂̄̒͊g̸̛̤̼̲͐̏̌͐͊̽͗̀̄̐̓ ̶͎͑͒̋̐͗͂͘͝t̶̨̢͔̝̥̼̤̥̜͎̗͋̑̽̏̍̈͂̎̏͊̚ͅǫ̷̧̻̗̭̜̟̜͎̪̠̭͙͊̈́͛̊̔͘ ̷̳̇̿̀̑̂̂̉̄̓͘͜͝͠d̶̟͎̯͆̏̓̾̿̎̾́͗̓͒͘͠i̴͚̥͕̫͉͇̳̤̍̂͜ͅễ̴̡̛͇̭̤͎̙̙͓̟̞̖̘̓̎͆̀̋̐̕ ̴̥̜̦̬̩̟̪̼̮͔͆͋̋͋̉͜͠ḑ̸̙̙͍͑̅͋̽ỉ̶̛͈͓͚̻͋̅̒e̸̢̧̤̦͚̖̩͗͆͌̾́͂̃̉̊̐̾́͝͝ͅ ̸̧̜̬̲͚̽ͅd̸̛̛̲͊́̔̆̈́̍́̊͊͗̚̕ḯ̶̢̡̗͕̳̭͇̗̫̤͎̮͖̝̃̔̈́̈́̕͘͘͜e̴̪̥̲̖͓̬̹̗̙̽͗̍͑̋̏̆̄̑̆̿̕̚͘͝ ̵͓͓̦̽͒̐́̀̎̇͠d̴̡͋̍̅̽̍̌̄̏͑̈́̃͗̚͘i̴͖̠͈̾̀͂̄̕͘͘͝ę̶̞͐̑̍͒̎̽͗̿̑̇̅͘͝ ̴̪̝̬̂͌̎͗̚d̴̡̛̘͖̊̈́̾͊̌̆͂͛̐̓̏͝i̵̡̩͈̮͇͉͎̯̍̓͌ͅe̸̖͎̥̦̞̺̗͚̍ͅ ̵͍̬̳̞̰͖͍͕̫̥̝̑̋̂͝d̷͇̭͎̯̻͈̜̝̜̗̗͂̋͌͊̀͘ĩ̷̮̰̂̌́͂͗̐̅̕͘̚͝ȩ̸̢̰͓͎̪̤̦̼̣̭̲̫͔͐̍̀͗̈́̾̈̚̕̕ ̷͉͔͈͔͙̖̟̣͙̭͊̅̐̓̈́͛̇̓̾͑̈́́d̶͓̲͍͉̱͕̼̰̥͖͍̥̱͓̂́͑͛͗̈̈̎̍͊̇̿͋̔͠i̵̡͎̠͑̏̈́̿̇̚͝ę̴͇̬͈̫͈͚͓̰̥̝̣̫̑͆͋͑͛̈́͐̓̕̚͜ͅ ̵͉͈̿̈́͛͌̈́͆̓̒d̷͇́̇̂͛i̸̳͎̳̲̙̎͐̐̾͊̔́̈́̉͂̈̕ȇ̸̟̰͂̈́̂̚͜ ̴̝̣͓͕̤͚͕͈͍̻̐̈́̀͆͒͗̋̽͋͠d̸̡̼͈̘̮̪͉̭̯͎͍̪͚̋͛͛̃̀̔̌ͅi̷͚̖̥̫̲͉̩̒͂̓̈́̓̚ẻ̵̡̨̹̞̮̗̦̄͑͐̑̔͆̚ ̷̜̰̖̦̓̽̏͂̓̈́̊͘͠d̸̛̜̞̫͎͕͙͈͋͌̋͌̓i̴̟̱̲͉̟͔̇̑̅̔̃̽̑̑͑͐è̴͍̱̫̱̮͌̆͗̿͆̽̃̋ͅ”

His mouth is still moving like he is speaking real words. But all you can hear is that one word repeated over and over and over. Your heart is racing, you have no idea what is happening. Komaeda is just talking like nothing is wrong, the world is turning to glass out of the corner of your eyes. Breaking and reforming again behind your eyelids.

Komaeda disappears, like he was just erased from existence and you suddenly realise that you are crying. One of the tears catches on your finger, and shimmers in ways that are unnatural. What is happening to you?

There’s a creaking noise on the other side of the room and you scramble backwards on the sick bed as the boy who looks like Hinata comes in through the door. He makes no move to approach you, he stands stiffly by the doorway and watches .

You wipe the tears from your face with the back of your hand, “who are you?! What have you done with Hinata?”

“I have done nothing to Hinata. His fracturing was yours and yours alone.” He says. His voice is familiar. It digs its claws deep inside of you.

“His... fracturing? ” A sob hiccups in your throat, “What are you talking about?”

The boy doesn’t answer.

“Can you please leave me alone? ” You sniffle, wiping away more tears, “I’m having a hard enough day as it is.”

“If it brings you comfort, you will ask Komaeda many more times.” The strange boy says, staring off into the middle distance, “he will say yes on the sixth.”

“Wha- He will…?” You whisper, “How do you know?”

His eyes turn to you and you get a crawling feeling under your skin, like he is looking straight through you, “This world is fabricated, but much of it is based in reality.”

“I...what?” You blink up at him, confused, “fabricated? What are you talking about?”

“A defense mechanism. All in your mind.”

You laugh nervously, “this isn’t a very funny joke…”

“I do not joke.” He continues staring, you refuse to meet his eyes, “use your talent. If you are too afraid to believe me.”

You swallow, “I...I can’t .”

“No. You won’t ” he sighs, disappointed, “a waste of potential, predictable. Boring.”

“Fine. If this world isn’t real, how are you here?” You say, “I doubt I would create someone just to ruin my own illusion.”

“I am not from here. I have been sent to help.” His eyes are empty, his expression unchanging, “Your world is crumbling, and you need to leave it.”

“Nothing is crumbling . What is wrong with you?”

“Your denial is wasting our time. Your mind is trying to make assurances where it should not, trying to put together the pieces of three different puzzles all at once and they just don’t fit.” He takes a few steps forward, eyes still boring into you, “This ideal world you have created is not sustainable, cherry picking the good parts of three separate lives does not result in stability. If you don’t leave here, the walls will collapse around you, and you will die in the rubble.” He reaches a hand out to you, “come with me. We’ll untangle the mess of your memories, then tell me how you feel about staying.”

You are hesitant when you take his hand. The moment feels significant, like a leap into the void. You are surprised at how warm his hand is, for some reason you had expected it to be cold. He doesn't lead you anywhere like you were anticipating, instead he presses his other hand on top of yours and closes his eyes.

The smell hits you like a wall. People always say that scent has a strong connection to memory and a fondness you have never known breathes life into your lungs. It smells like autumn, bitter winds and pumpkin spice. Sandalwood, a hint of cinnamon apple and…

“Komaeda?”

His eyes turn to you, his face tight with nervousness.

“Are you okay?”

He giggles nervously, the sound echoing in the empty classroom, “Oh, me? I’m fine! My concern is what will happen to you if someone walks in and sees us like this.”

When Komaeda says like this , he means sitting together on the windowsill. Not exactly scandalous, but his own perpetual self-loathing has morphed it into something downright sinful.

There’s a brisk wind dancing through the autumn leaves outside the window. Red and orange trapezing through the sky. Komaeda has a thick green scarf wrapped around his neck and his nose is turning pink in the cold. He looks adorable.

Your mouth pulls into a firm line and you clutch your hands together in your lap, “You know i'm not trying to hide you from anyone, right?”

“And that is very kind of you. I’m sure no one would judge you poorly for hiding our relationship.” He smiles warmly, “I am human garbage, after all.”

“Komaeda, I want to tell people.” You say, rotating in place to face him more directly, “You think i confessed my feelings for you six times as a joke?”

“I did consider that at first, but the more i think about it…” He averts his eyes, cheeks turning a little pink, “It does seem like your feelings are...genuine. No matter how misguided.”

You huff and leap up from the windowsill, facing Komaeda with your hands on your hips, “You want proof that i'm not ashamed of you? Fine. I’ll do it!”

“Huh?” Komaeda breathes, “You’ll do what ?”

It is with great purpose that you cross the room over to the blackboard. Grabbing a stick of chalk and writing in big looping letters, Nagito Komaeda and I are DATING , underneath you sign it with your name. You are not about to let this be misconstrued. Komaeda is more important to you than the opinions of your classmates, you are willing to let Saionji tease you for months to come if it means he understands just how much you care. You gesture at the blackboard, “Do you get it now?”

He’s just staring at you, one hand cupped over his mouth, eyes glimmering with the beginnings of tears, and something much warmer underneath, “But...but class is going to start again in 10 minutes and everyone will-”

You cut him off, walking back over to the windowsill and cupping his face in both of your hands. Brushing an errant tear away with your thumb, you smile, “I know . That’s kind of the point.”

He gives you a watery smile, reaching his hand up to interlock his fingers with yours where they rest on your cheek. He is shaking, but it's a good kind of nervous, you can feel it behind his eyes, “I don’t deserve you…”

You laugh and press your lips to his tear stained cheek, “Yes you do.”

Then, almost as quickly as it began. The memory fades, behind Komaeda’s head you watch the sun set and rise over and over, faster and faster. Yellow, orange, blue and then purple keeps crossing Komaeda’s face like someone is tipping over a bucket of paint. He’s still smiling up at you, a hopeful expression frozen in time and you realise with horror that you can no longer feel his skin under your hands.

“No…” you whisper, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair only to find it intangible. A sob cuts loose from your throat.

“A good memory.” A voice says from behind you. That boy who looks like Hinata is standing in the doorway. His hair seems longer and darker, the tips are kissing his jawline. You’d almost forgotten he existed, “I decided it best to start simple. Your mind would not have handled something more intense.”

The sun is still rotating outside the window, light cascading through the classroom and then fading into darkness every few seconds. Like a subway train passing by a station.

“Is this the future?” You ask, voice wavering.

“No. It is the past.” He doesn't give you the time to ask anymore questions, though he can tell that you want to, “The next memory will be difficult. I will not ask if you are ready, because you will not be.”

#this took so long lol #i think three more chapters to go? #next one is gonna be EFFED UP #komaeda x reader #nagito x reader #komaeda nagito #danganronpa fanfiction #danganronpa x reader #nagito komaeda

[mandaloriandragontrainer]

Can’t Breathe

AO3 link

Bill still haunts the twins’ dreams.

TW: panic attack

It was completely dark. No. Not completely. Thin slits of light filtered in, as though through someone’s fingers.

“Mabel,” Dipper groaned. “Stop doing that.” He reached up to pull her arms down, but found them stiff and unyielding.

“Wowee, you really do have noodle arms, Pine Tree.”

Dipper’s stomach fell to the floor. Not again. Not another dream. Why did they always seem so real?

“G-g-get away from me, B-Bill,” he demanded through chattering teeth. “You’re not real. You’re just-just another dream.”

“You think I don’t know that!? Stupid kid. And here I thought you were smart. I’m a dream demon, Pine Tree. Dreams are where I’m the most real.”

“Go away! You can’t do anything to me! You’re not here! You’re dead!”

Dipper’s feet were pulled out from underneath him. He was staring down at a black abyss, suspending by blue chains. “Look at you up there! Like a little piñata!”

“Leave me alone!” Dipper demanded, flinging his head back and forth searching for the demon. “Where are you!?”

“What kind of question is that, kiddo? You know exactly where I am.”

Hesitantly, Dipper let his gaze wander up... or down... to the abyss. He realized how it reflected like darkened glass. Two yellow eyes stared back, red-rimmed and psychotic.

His own eyes.

***

“You can’t have him!”

Mabel dug her feet into the ground, pushing back her brother’s body. Their whole life, they’d been equally matched. Why was he so much stronger now?

“This was his choice, Shooting Star! You think he’s so smart, dontcha? He should’ve known better than to trust me!”

Bipper flung Mabel back against the ground. “Face it, Shooting Star, your brother is mine. Just like you’re about to be.” He grinned maliciously. “Stanley will never be able to hurt his sweet little pumpkin pie.”

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“It’s like this, sweet’ums,” Bipper bent over and flicked Mabel’s chin. “You and your brother are my slaves now. Either you do exactly what I say when I say it or you’re dead. Worse than dead. Oh-ho, so much worse. Now shake my hand if you ever want to see your brother alive again, honeybun.”

“N-no!” Mabel put her hands to her ears. “This isn’t real, it’s all pretend! It’s just a dream!”

“Funny, your bro-bro said the same thing.” Her hands did nothing to drown out Bill’s maniacal voice. “Why do you fleshbags think a dream makes anything less real? You can’t escape me, babycakes. Even if you.... WAKE UP.”

Mabel screamed and flew up right. A dream. It was just a dream. She was here, in the Shack, in her bed with her purple nightgown and Sev’ral Timez pillowcase and stuffed pony and Waddles sleeping on the rug beside her. No evil laughter. Nothing to hear but her pig’s soft snoring and the buzz of the air conditioner and Dipper’s frantic panting.

Wait.

“Dipper? Are-are you okay?” She whispered.

Nothing but pained wheezes in response.

“Dipper?” She hopped from the bed, socked feet padding across the floor to her brother’s side. “Dipper, what’s wrong?”

Her twin was sitting up, one hand clutching his heart and the other steadying himself on the nightstand. “I-I-I can’t-I can’t-I can’t breathe...” he gasped. “I can’t breathe. Mabel. I can’t-I can’t!”

“Just-just try to slow it down,” she pleaded. “You’re hypervent-hypervent... that word! You’re breathing too fast!”

“Mabel, I’m gonna die,” Dipper choked. “Oh, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die...”

“Don’t say that!” Mabel wailed, tears springing to her eyes. “You’re not! Why are you saying that?”

Dipper fumbled for her hand. He was shaking so much. It terrified her.

“Grunkle Stan!!!” she bawled. “Grunkle Ford!!! Help, please help!!!”

Only a few moments later, footsteps thundered up the stairs in response. The door was kicked open and her grunkles burst into the room in their sleepwear, Stan wielding his brass knuckles and Ford pointing his gun at an invisible threat.

“What is it, Mabel, where’d he go?!” Stan exclaimed, furiously surveying the room.

“It’s Dipper!” She wailed, running to her grunkle and throwing her arms around him. “He can’t breathe and he’s dying!”

Ford quickly holstered his gun and knelt at Dipper’s side. “Mason, look at me. Look me in the eyes.”

“I-I can’t breathe, Gr-Grunkle Ford,” Dipper grabbed his hand in terror. “I’m d-dying.”

“Listen to me, Mason. You’re not dying. You’re having a panic attack. Look at me. I know it’s frightening, but you’re safe. I’m right here with you. You’re not going to die.”

“I-I can’t.... I can’t...”

“What’s 2 times 3?”

“Wha-what?”

“2 times 3, my boy.”

“S-s-six.”

“Very good. What about 28 divided by 7?”

“F-four.”

Mabel glanced back at her brother from Stan’s hug. “Why is he making him do math?”

“I think he’s trying to calm him down, sweetie. Must be a nerd thing.”

“Very good job,” Ford gently rubbed Dipper’s back. “See? Your breathing is already slowing down. Can you breathe in through your nose?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Excellent. Breathe in deeply and hold it if you can. Out through the mouth.”

Dipper obeyed, although his breath wobbled. Stan flipped on the light, and Mabel could see her brother’s sleep shirt was completely soaked through with sweat.

“I couldn’t breathe,” he mumbled, clutching his uncle’s fingers like a lifeline.

“Shhh, boy. Just focus on breathing. We need to bring your heart rate down.”

“See, pumpkin?” Stan kneeled to eye level with his niece and gave her a hug. “Your brother’s just fine. He’s not goin anywhere.”

“It was Bill,” Dipper whimpered. “He was in my dream. He stole my body again, but-but it was like I was still in it too.” He looked at Ford, brown eyes wide and afraid. “Was it just a dream, Grunkle Ford? What if he’s really there?”

“Bill’s astral form was destroyed, my boy,” Ford assured. “But even if he were able to piece himself back together enough to enter your dreams, you have to remember he can’t hurt you there.”

“It-it felt like he could...” Tears started to roll down Dipper’s cheeks. He buried his face in his knees, unable to keep his shoulders from shuddering. “I could feel everything and-and I couldn’t make it stop. Not like when we were in Stan’s head.”

“He said we were his slaves.”

“What?” Ford turned to Mabel, surprised by her statement.

“He-he was in my dream, too,” Mabel ducked her head under Stan’s arm, feeling as though Bipper could pounce her again if she didn’t stay hidden. “He was in Dipper’s body like he was at the puppet show. And-and he said me and Dipper were his and-and if we didn’t do what he said he’d hurt us really bad. And before I woke up he said that dreams were just as real as being awake.”

Ford was silent for a moment. “Come over here, Mabel.” She shuffled to him and let him lift her onto Dipper’s bed. “I promise you two are completely safe here. Stan and I will never let any harm come to you, understand?”

The twins nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

“I wish I could tell you for sure that it wasn’t actually Bill you encountered. I wish I could tell you it was nothing more than a dream. But the truth is, I don’t know. It was foolish of me to be so certain he was gone for good. I promise you, I’ll find out for sure if he’s back, and if he is, together we will find a way to destroy him once and for all. But in the meantime, I’ll teach you how to combat him in your dreams.”

“What about tonight?” Mabel asked quietly, leaning against her brother’s shoulder. “I always sleep with Mom and Dad when I have a nightmare.”

“You-you can sleep with me,” Dipper offered.

“Why don’t both of you sleep in our room tonight?” Stan interjected. “Sixer and I will get started in the lab.”

“Your room?” Dipper wrinkled his nose. “Can we change the sheets first?”

“You wanna sleep outside, kid?”

“Maybe we could make a fort,” Mabel suggested. “I taped some extra unicorn hair in my scrapbook. We could use it to protect the fort.”

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” Ford smiled. “You feel up to it, Dipper?”

“Yeah.” He slid down from the bed. “I’ll definitely sleep better.”

Stan watched the kids disappear down the stairs. “You really think you’ll be able to do something, Poindexter?”

Ford sighed. “I honestly don’t know. I’m still hoping these really are only just dreams. But you can never tell for sure when it comes to Bill.”

“Ah, if he shows up, I’ll just whallop him again. Didn’t hold up well against it last time.”

Ford shook his head. “Let’s make sure the kids are getting along all right.”

In their room, the grunkles found a lean-to of couch cushions covered with a sheet, unicorn hair pasted at the base. A crayon-colored sign stating “UNDER CONSTRUCTION” was taped at the top. Inside, the twins were collapsed in a heap, exhausted from the ordeal.

“They’re safe, Stanley.”

His brother smiled at him. “And we’ll keep it that way.”

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls fanfic #pines family #dipper pines #mabel pines #ford pines #stan pines #stanford pines #stanley pines #bill cipher #bipper #tw: panic attack #mason pines #hurt/comfort #mando writes

[geniusgub]

remedy//spencer reid

Hi there! So this is my first Spencer fic and while it’s nowhere close to the first thing I’ve written (I’ve been writing for almost seven years now), it’s the first Spencer fic I’m posting. Let me know what you think and let me know if you want anything like a part two or anything because I totally have an idea for that lol. Also let me know if you have any requests or just reach out if you wanna chat about our mans Spencer Reid or MGG or about anything at all.

Enjoy- like and comment!!!!

genre: fluff, angst, lil bit of smut but not much

word count: 8.2k

warning: nightmares, drugs (not use, just mentioning), overuse of pet names

This fic is inspired by Remedy by Adele so give that a listen while you’re reading okay now go!

SPENCER

"I can't believe we got these tickets!" Garcia exclaims, bouncing up and down in her seat. "Lottie Ray is one of my favorite singers of all time!"

"We know that, Garcia," Luke laughs, patting her shoulder. "You talk about her all the time,"

"Because she's talented and gorgeous and amazing and helps with charities and visits sick children and she's a goddess, Luke Alvez!" Garcia snaps, turning to the backseat to punch his chest a few times. I duck away from the physical violence and knock into the Prentiss, apologizing quietly.

"Alright, kids, calm down," Emily laughs. "We don't need a pre-concert fight,"

"Don't make a mess of my car!" Tara warns from the driver's seat.

"If this is any indications as to how the night is gonna go with you two then maybe I should go home," I joke, running my fingers through my newly short hair. I hadn't gotten it cut in a while so I figured now would be an appropriate time.

"So remind me how we're getting backstage?" Luke asks, turning his head to me.

"Backstage passes, that's what I was told," Emily answers with a nonchalant shrug. "FBI privileges. At least it's good for something,"

We arrive at the stadium and park our cars just as Matt and JJ pull up on either side of us with their families piled in their cars, Rossi and Krystall on the other side of one of them. Everyone jumps out of their cars and Rossi starts distributing backstage passes for everyone to wear around their necks, trying to tame the excited kids. They've been raving about this concert for weeks and now that it's here, they can't contain their energy.

"Come on, everyone!" JJ exclaims, waving the kids towards the entrance.

We flash our new badges and security lets us through, then we meet up with another security guard who brings us to a green room filled with food and drinks that just excites the kids even more. Nobody can seem to contain any of the kids as they go ravaging through the food in the room.

"So," the security guard at the door says, "if you all didn't know, Shawn Mendes is the opening act for tonight. He's starting a soundcheck on the stage in about ten minutes and then Lottie Ray is gonna do her soundcheck after, so you're more than welcome to go and watch it, if you want. Catering is a few doors down to the right if you get hungry, and just ask security if you need anything at all,"

We all mumble out our thank you's as the security guard disappears. Kristy and Will start pulling the kids away from the food so they don't make themselves sick as everyone makes themselves comfortable on the couches, and, of course, Emily locates some wine.

"Is this what it's like to be a celebrity?" Tara jokes as Emily fills up her glass. "I could get used to this,"

"We finally understand how Rossi lives," Matt adds on.

"Knock knock," there's a soft voice from the doorway and all our heads whip over.

Lottie Ray is standing in the doorway and I swear, my breath is knocked right out of my chest. I've never seen a more gorgeous human being in my life. Her smile is huge and her green eyes are shining, contrasting against her red satin and lace outfit that fits her perfectly. She's shifting her weight back and forth on her feet, telling me that her heels are hurting her feet, but she looks so happy that it's easy to ignore. Her long brown hair is curled down to her waistline and frames her doll-like face perfectly. She looks sinfully stunning.

The kids all gasp at the sight of the international superstar and she laughs, stepping further into the room. "Hi!" She grins, waving at the kids. "I heard we had visitors on tour and I just had to come say hi to you all before I go get ready! It's so wonderful to meet you all," The kids are absolute puddles in the face of Lottie and it's actually quite funny. I don't think I've ever seen them this quiet and compliant. "I hope you all come and watch soundcheck, it's always a lot of fun,"

"We'll be there," Garcia says, and it seems like she's in the same trance that the kids are.

"Alright," Lottie glances out the door for a moment, "I've gotta run and go get ready but I'll come visit again before the show," she blows a kiss and then starts heading out the door. "See you later!" And with that, she's gone.

As soon as she's gone, the trance is broken and the kids break into cries of excitement, raving about how they've just met their idol as they go running to hang on their parents. I'm still replaying the image of that angel in my mind and trying to keep myself under control, to keep my cheeks from blushing. She's just so beautiful.

"We should get to that soundcheck, right?" Krystall suggests after checking the time once more.

"Let's go, let's go!" The kids cheer and start running through the door, nearly toppling over anyone passing by in the hallway.

We all rush after them so they don't get lost, but when I spot Lottie rushing into a dressing room down the hall, I bite my lip. "Hey, Rossi," I say, nudging his arm. "I'm gonna go find a bathroom before soundcheck,"

"Sounds good," he waves me away, being pulled away immediately by his wife. I see them off until they've disappeared into the stadium, being led by a security guard to where they can sit and watch. And once they're gone, I hurry down the hallway.

I get to a door with Lottie Ray on the front and a handle with a number lock on it, so I quickly type in the month and year of my birthday, hearing the door unlock before pushing it open. Lottie whips around from where she's standing in the middle of the room, a smile breaking out on her face.

"You cut your hair," is the first thing she says before jumping into my arms, barely even waiting for the door to close.

"Do you hate it?" I ask, tucking my head into her neck, my arms tightening around her waist. I hear her heels clatter to the floor.

"I absolutely love it," she giggles, pulling away and placing her hands on my cheeks as she inspects my locks. "I've never seen you with short hair though. What am I supposed to pull on now?" Lottie smiles at me in the most innocent way, coursing her fingers through my hair, settling at the base of my neck.

"How about we find out?" I tease right back, carrying her to the couch in the corner of the room and tossing her down.

Lottie's eyes go wide as I reach for the button on her pants, pulling them down her legs. "What? Are you crazy?"

"Maybe a little," I quip, tossing the satin aside, taking in the sight of her in a lace bodysuit. "You're wearing red lace and expect me to keep myself under control?"

"Your team is outside and you wanna- we've kept this a secret for almost five years and you're gonna jeopardize that just so you can eat me out in my dressing room?" She protests, but her body says different as she slides her legs open when I lay on the couch in front of her.

"Nothing we haven't done before," I quip, pushing her bodysuit aside. She's looking down at me with her eyes wide and her lips parted, a beautiful and needy expression etched on her face. "And we've gotta make it fast, hmm? I told Rossi I was going to the bathroom,"

"I hate you sometimes," Lottie breathes out, tossing her head back.

Since she's not looking anymore, I take the moment to stun her and circle my lips around her clit, immediately earning a drawn-out moan. "Shh," I hush her, "we can't have everyone knowing what's going on in here. Now be a good girl and stay quiet for me."

///

"I can't believe you did that," Lottie breathes out, pulling on a pair of black workout pants and reaching for a sports bra.

I come out of the bathroom from washing my hands, smirking. "You can't say you didn't enjoy it,"

"You've gotta get back to your team, okay?" she grabs my cheeks and pulls my lips down to hers, now significantly shorter without her heels on. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," I echo, pecking her lips a few more times. "I'll see you later. Be safe,"

Lottie snorts, grabbing a hair tie from the coffee table as she follows me out the door. "You're telling me that, Mr. FBI? Mr. Shot In The Neck? Mr. Shot in The Knee? Mr-"

"Yes, I am, because you're the one who broke your foot on stage last year. So, yes, be safe," she wraps her arms around my waist from behind, leaving us waddling along to the stage, but she's laughing and that's all I care about. It makes my heart flutter and I've known for a while that I'd do anything to keep her beautiful smile on her face.

"I've gotta go get my in-ears," Lottie pouts, spinning around so she's in front of me. She goes on her toes to kiss me yet again, but when someone shouts her name, she pulls away, pouting. "I gotta go,"

She goes running off in one direction and so I go out the other way, just to not seem suspicious if the team catches me walking towards them. Thankfully, they're too invested in Shawn Mendes tuning his guitar on stage to notice which direction I come from.

"Uncle Spencer!" Michael exclaims as I walk over, jumping up and down, all of the kids sitting on the floor of the stadium as opposed to the seats, where the adults are.

"What's up, kiddo?" I smile, giving him a high five as I take a seat beside JJ and Will.

"This is super cool," Michael grins, pushing away his brother when he starts poking his shoulder.

"Look, look!" Henry whispers, interjecting himself into the conversation, pointing towards the stage. "There's Lottie Ray!" She's just walked onto the stage and approached Shawn, helping him with something with his guitar and we can faintly hear their voices and laughter through the microphone.

"You seem to really like Lottie Ray," Will speaks up with his normal lazy smirk. "You got a crush on her, Henry?"

His cheeks turn pink and it makes everyone laugh, but Henry just groans. "She's just pretty!"

"Henry's got a crush!" Michael mocks, sticking his tongue out at his older brother. "Henry's got a crush!"

/// LOTTIE ///

"Is this supposed to sound like this?" Shawn scrunches up his nose as he fiddles with his guitar.

I laugh, shaking my head, walking over to him. "No, not at all. Let me fix it," I grab his guitar from him and sit down on the stage, messing with the pegs and with his microphone until the sound issue is fixed. "There you go, love,"

"Thanks, Mom," he jokes, slinging his guitar over his shoulder.

"Oh god," I fake gag. "Stop making me feel so old. I can't do it anymore,"

As Shawn continues his soundcheck, I jump off the stage to chat with the dancers who are fooling around on the floor of the stadium, dancing around to the music. I jump right in with my best friends and twirl around, giggling as my body fills with adrenaline and endorphins. Shawn is finished soon and it's my turn, so I head to the sound engineers to grab a microphone and get back on stage. The first few songs aren't sung-through properly are just used to check for sound balance, but then the dancers come to the stage to do some songs full out and we have some fun.

I grab my own guitar and sing some songs, keeping my eyes from wandering over to Spencer. Since we've been together so long, many of my songs are about him. Well, almost all of the songs from my last few albums are about him. I always want to be singing my love songs directly to him, but our relationship is a secret and it needs to remain that way. So I keep my eyes forward and try to ignore his presence as best as I can.

Someone on the crew calls a hold on soundcheck so I put down my guitar and go to sit at the piano bench, retying my yellow tennis shoes. I hum to myself to pass the dead time and then I hear heavy footsteps approaching me. I look up just in time to see my best friend and dancer, Whitney, sprinting up to me, her eyes wide. "Mayday," she sneers through gritted teeth.

"Mayday? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" I furrow my eyebrows, holding my microphone lazily in one hand.

Whitney tilts her head to where the BAU team is sitting and then repeats, "Mayday,"

My eyes mirror hers as I see what she means. My own mother, lovely Mrs. Kelsey Barlow, has just walked up to the team and is hugging Spencer and I can see the uncomfortable look on his face. Then she puts her hand over her mouth and, judging by the look on everyone's face, she's just exposed Spencer's relationship status. I hastily jump off the piano bench and rush off the stage, walking quickly over to the group, catching Spencer's panicked eye.

"Mom," she whips her head around to me, her eyes wide.

"I forgot!" She exclaims before hurrying off, breezing past me as she mumbles broken apologizes to herself.

I choke back a nervous laugh, turning back to Spencer with a smile. "Well, we had a good run, didn't we?"

"So-" the woman I recognize to be Penelope Garcia speaks up, "you two are- you're- what-"

"Um," I kneel on a chair in the row in front of Spencer, tapping on the armrest, "Spencer and I are dating,"

The surprise is clear on everyone's face but Spencer is obviously panicking, his hands clutching his thighs tightly. The whole point of keeping our relationship secret was to keep me safe. Yes, if Spencer's face was plastered all over the media because of paparazzi, it would make his life in the field and as a professor more complicated, because then going undercover would be impossible. But he's told me about how his family has been targeted because of him before and how he refused to let that ever happen again. So as soon as we met, we made sure to never be seen in public. We don't go out, we have secret credit cards if we ever go on vacations (which is incredibly rare, considering both of our schedules), and we always stay home for dates. Thankfully, it's worked. It's been five years and nobody has suspected a thing, not even his team full of profilers. But now, thanks to my mom, the jig is up.

"Dating?" Tara's eyebrows shoot up.

"For how long?" Luke asks.

"I'm sure Spencer could tell you exactly how long," I tease even though I know he won't pitch in, judging by his panicked look, "but we've actually been together for a little over five years." And if they looked shocked before, then they surely look shocked now. But Spencer is looking down at his lap and fiddling with his hands and it breaks my heart. "And now that everyone knows," I make another joke out of the situation to lighten the mood, "Spence, can you come help me with something? There's an audio problem and I'm sure you could probably fix it in two seconds," Spencer's head pops up and he nods, standing from his seat and walking past me. I catch his hand to keep him from completely walking away, smiling at everyone. "Soundcheck will keep going on just another few minutes, don't worry."

I jump off the seat and as soon as I do, Spencer pulls me backstage. I trail behind him, catching the way his free hand digs into his eyes, his hand in mine squeezing tightly. Once we're out of view from the team, I place my hand on his arm. "Sweetheart," I whisper as he leads me away from the stage, towards my dressing room. I know I need to be at soundcheck, but my family is more important to me than standing on stage and singing a few notes. He plugs in his birthday and throws open the door, stomping inside, and once we're safely in, that's when he drops my hand. Both hands then dig into his eyes and he grunts, flinching at the door slams closed.

"Hey, hey," I whisper, stepping closer to him, "baby doll, take a breath, you're okay. I'm right here, I'm safe,"

"They know," his voice shakes. "They know now and-"

"They're FBI agents and it's okay that they know. You've protected me for five years and they can help with that," I place my fingers gently on his biceps, hoping to soothe his panic just a bit, but it doesn't seem to help.

"Krystall's not, and Kristy's not, the kids aren't," Spencer whines, starting to break down. "I can't lose you, Lottie. I can't-"

"You're not gonna lose me," I promise. "They're your best friends and they deserve to know that you've got a girlfriend. It's okay, peach. Everything's gonna be okay. So just breathe, nice and deep for me,"

Spencer takes a shaky breath and slides his hands down his face, his eyes squeezed closed. He reaches one of his hands forward and places it over my heart, sighing of relief. "Okay," he whispers, almost as if reassuring himself that I'm actually here, "okay,"

"Spencer, can I hug you?" He nods quickly, and it doesn't even take me a second before I wrap my arms around his shoulders, feeling him bury his face in my arms. "I love you so much." I tell him for what could possibly be the millionth time, but it doesn't hold any less meaning than the first time. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

/// SPENCER ///

"There you are!" Garcia exclaims, practically pushing me into a chair as I walk into catering. "There. Sit your ass down and tell us what the hell is going on. You've been dating Lottie Ray for five years?"

"I-"

"Five years, Reid?" She cuts me off before I can even get out another word. "Like seriously? How did you even keep it a secret for this long?"

"We-"

"Does this mean that her songs are about you? Because she-"

"Garcia," Luke says, placing his hand on her shoulder to politely shut her up, "let him explain, please. We're all curious. Now shut up,"

And truly, everyone is staring at me. The kids are sitting at their own table a few feet away but all the adults are staring at me and it's making me nervous. But I look down at my hand and see the sharpie on my knuckles in Lottie's perfect handwriting. I love you, baby doll. It calms me down.

"You guys, um," I clear my throat nervously, "well, sorry I kept it a secret,"

"We're not mad," Emily says. "We just wanna know why,"

"I did it to protect her," I answer quickly, and it's obvious on everyone's faces that they understand what I mean. "All of our families have been targeted many times because of our jobs and I've lost people, I almost lost my mom a few years ago. I couldn't let that happen again. So as soon as I met Lottie, I told her we had to keep it a secret and she agreed,"

"Will you tell us how you met?" Kristy asks with a fond smile.

"Um, yeah," I nod softly. "Lottie was here, in Virginia. If you recall, five years ago, the media was ripping her apart and hating on her for all these fake allegations about lying and stealing songs and all these other things,"

"Oh, yeah. She wasn't involved in lawsuits, right?" Krystall adds.

"She was sued by over thirty other artists and won every lawsuit. But she came to Virginia to escape the harassment because there's no paparazzi here," I suppress my smile as I remember our first meeting. "We met two weeks after I got out of prison, in a bookstore, actually. I had no idea who she was. I knew all of her music from Garcia, but not what she looked like. She thought I was lying about not knowing who she was because she's so used to people being fake around her and lying to her and using her, but I truly didn't know. I didn't even know that people were being so horrible to her online. So we just sat in the bookstore and read books in silence together for a few hours and we did that for two weeks before I actually asked her out,"

"And that's it? Simple as that? That's how you started dating an internationally famous pop star?" Tara laughs.

"That's it," I shrug nonchalantly. "I asked her out and I made her dinner and then we started hanging out and we just started dating. She moved to Virginia permanently because she likes it here so much and she feels like she can be a normal person here, not a celebrity,"

"So what suspicious things have you done with her that you haven't told us about?" Matt teases with a smirk.

"Well," I stifle another laugh, "remember those few times when I claimed I overslept and missed the flight back to Virginia on those cases?" Everyone nods. "Intentional. We happened to have cases in the same places that Lottie had stops on her tour so, on those days, I'd miss our flight and go see her, then get my own flight back. We don't get to see each other much at all when she's on tour,"

"Sneaky, sneaky." Rossi nudges my shoulder, making me laugh. "When she is around, you've gotta bring her around for one of our team dinners,"

"I'm sure she'd like that," I reply softly. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys, that I've kept this secret for so long. I just- I really love her and I want to protect her."

The table is silent and I can't tell if that's a good thing or not. Does that mean they're mad? Does that mean they don't even need to accept my apology because an apology wasn't needed because they weren't mad in the first place? Am I overthinking? I don't understand.

"Where's the ring?" Will is the one who speaks up first.

My cheeks turn red, but when nobody else speaks up to protest the slightly invasive question, I gather that this is the question on the tip of everyone's tongue. "It's, um, it's in my apartment. Haven't found the right moment,"

Everyone's eyes go wide and I'm not sure if they were expecting that answering. After all, this is quite a lot of information for one day. In just an hour, they've found out that I'm dating a Grammy-winning singer and I'm ready to marry her. They thought that I've been single for years and I've been dealing with my trauma alone but in reality, I've been falling asleep on calls with Lottie and sneaking out like a teenager to meet up with her. I'd lay down my life to protect her and I don't know what I'd do without her.

/// LOTTIE ///

I stare out at the sea of fans chanting my name, my chest heaving after the intensive dance number I've just performed. My feet are aching from my huge heels but they always are so it's easy to ignore the pain and plaster on a smile.

"Alright," with a heavy sigh, I drag myself over to the piano and sit down at the bench, clipping the microphone into the stand. I play some chords on the piano before I start to play some melodies that just sound pretty, to underscore the speech I'm about to give. "The song I'm about to play isn't a song that's usually on the setlist," I say, glancing out at the thousands of fans before me, "but I usually add it when someone certain is in the audience and that someone is here tonight."

I look back down at my hands for a moment and take a deep breath before speaks again. "I wrote Remedy," my fans scream as I reveal what song I'm about to sing, "not as a song to put on an album. I wrote this song as a lullaby of sorts, and as a reassurance for my," I hesitate and bite my lip for a moment as I feel my eyes start to tear up, "for my someone, that I'd always be there for him. I'd always be there to love him, to make his pain go away, and to make the horrors of this world go away, even if it's for a little while. I'd do whatever I could to be his remedy. And I play this song whenever he sees the show because I don't want him to forget because I fear he will forget. I want him to remember that I love him and that," I gulp and play the first chord of the song, "I'm always gonna be here for him."

///

When I pull my in-ears out after the final song of the show, everything sounds like it's underwater. It's normal but I'll never get used to not being able to hear properly after a performance. My security guard is at my side and rushing me away from the stage, down the hallway, and towards a car that is waiting to take me home. It's key to get out of the stadium as fast as possible so that fans don't locate me and swarm me.

I jump in the backseat of this car and let out a sigh, laying down across the three-seater and closing my eyes. My ears are pounding as my hearing starts to make a comeback, and I drift in and out of sleep as a driver brings me back to my townhouse. I'm still dressed in my final stage outfit and I can't find it in me to care at the moment.

When we arrive at my small Virginia townhouse, it's nearing midnight as my security guard opens the car door and helps me to my aching feet, walking me to my front door before disappearing back into the car. There's classical music playing inside and it makes me smile, and when I hear footsteps, my heart skips a beat. Spencer comes into my view with his cute smile, his hands tucked into his pockets. "Hi, sweet girl,"

"Hi," I smile back, holding my arms out like a child.

He easily complies, stepping forward and pulling me into a tight hug. But he swiftly picks me up and prompts me to wrap my legs around his waist, and he goes off, carrying me up the stairs and towards my bedroom. "I've gotta get you out of this outfit and these damn shoes and into bed, right?"

"How was the show?" I mumble into his shoulder, feeling my adrenaline start to come down and my exhaustion kick in. "Did you like it? Did the team? Did the kids?"

"Everyone loved it. Emily and Tara were drunk by the time they left, and the kids had an amazing time. And you know that I always love watching you perform," he sets me down on the bed and starts to unzip my thigh high heels. "You pointed out that you always sing Remedy when I see your show but it always takes me by surprise when you sing it. It started out as you singing it to me when I have nightmares and now you sing it to stadiums full of thousands of fans. It's insane. And you know what else is insane? These shoes. How do you even walk in these?" He throws them aside and then reaches for the zipper of my bra top.

"Can we take a bath? I'm all sweaty but I don't wanna stand for a shower," I place my hands on his shoulders as he undresses me, giving him a cute pout, even though it's not needed because I know he'll say yes without a protest.

"Of course. Come on. Be careful," he leads me into the bathroom and runs a warm bath while I start to wipe off my makeup, grimacing as my throat starts to get sore from the hours of singing I just did. I feel Spencer's hands on my waist as the room gets steamy, his lips pressing against my shoulder blade. "Sometimes I'm so floored by your talent,"

"Stop," I blush, letting my head fall against his chest.

"Absolutely not," he quips, lips moving to my cheek. "Seeing you up on stage, dancing, and singing, and looking so happy, I'm so proud of you. And next week, you're gonna go to New York and win some Grammy's and make me even more proud of you,"

"I'm not gonna win," I pull away from his arms and step into the warm, bubbly bath, sighing contently. Spencer quickly undressed himself and steps in on the other side, facing me.

"You tell me every year that you're not gonna win and then you do," Spencer retorts, grabbing my ankles under the water to pull me closer to him. I fall over his chest and he wraps his arms around my waist again. "Some people in your position have the biggest ego, and you have the tiniest ego I've ever seen,"

"M'sleepy," I ignore the point he's trying to make in an effort to whine instead, my hands grasping his growing biceps.

"I know you are," Spencer coos, fingers brushing up and down my spine. "We'll get out in a few minutes. Just relax and then we get to bed,"

I've always loved this side of Spencer. When the sun sets and we're sleepy, we both tend to get cuddly and clingy, me more than him. He's happy to hold me and kiss me and never let me go and I'm happy to pine over him. The truth is, I've never loved anyone the way I love him. I thought I would spend my life around people who would use me for my money and society status and I'd have to fake a smile forever. I ever thought that my reputation would get ruined and I'd hide away in Virginia and meet the most adorable yet traumatized FBI agent who would happen to be the easiest person to fall in love with. I often find myself wondering how many people have fallen in love with Spencer because it's just so easy to. Sure, keeping my relationship a total secret isn't ideal, but it makes me feel like a teenager with all the secrets and the hiding and I have to admit that I love it. I love having dates on my balcony and hiding under the covers for hours on end and sneaking through back doors to kiss him. I never thought I'd meet someone like Spencer and I'm always pinching myself.

"C'mon, c'mon," Spencer whispers, and when he speaks, I've realized that I've dozed off on his chest. "Before you fall asleep again,"

I'm basically a rag doll in Spencer's arms as he helps me out of the tub and wraps a towel around me, then one around himself before pulling the plug for the tub. I wander into the bedroom and into my closet, pulling out one of Spencer's flannels that I'd stolen years ago, buttoning that up. I dry off my hair a little bit before climbing into bed just as Spencer flips the light off. He climbs in bedside me and pulls me close, kissing the top of my head. "Go to sleep, doll. You need lots after that performance." I don't even have it in me to respond and I just fall asleep right on his chest, exactly where we both know I belong.

///

Nightmares used to be much more common for Spencer at the beginning of our relationship. Unknowing to me, at first, when we met, he had just been released from prison after being falsely accused of murder and drug possession. He'd been locked inside with the criminals that he's spent his life hunting and he saw horrible things, and nightmares hit him like a ton of bricks.

He was broken when we met but he put on a brave face and told me that he was a profiler for the FBI, which was true in a way, even if he wasn't reinstated yet. He would see me during the day and plaster on a smile, then he'd go to sleep and wake up screaming as he relived what he saw in prison, that's what he eventually revealed to me. I cried when he told me that. I felt so guilty for not seeing through his facade because once he told me, it was clear.

I assumed the circles under his eyes were because he wasn't sleeping due to always working, not because he was having nightmares. I thought his hands shook because he was nervous to be on dates, not because he was experiencing PTSD, or PTSS as he would eventually correct me to say. I missed so many things and I just cried over him for hours, apologizing for not being there for him when he needed me. And Spencer held me so tight and he cried too and he told me that I make him happier than anyone he's ever met, and somehow, that cured any heartache I was feeling.

I hadn't realized how severe Spencer's nightmares were until I experienced one for myself. We didn't sleep in the same bed for the first three months we dated, and then I eventually was too tired to drive home and Spencer let me stay over. I was so excited to be wrapped up in his arms for an entire night that the thought of witnessing one his nightmares didn't even cross my mind, and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit Spencer's chest. He woke up crying out a name I'd never heard before, tears streaming down his cheeks as he thrashed around and grasped at the bedsheets, ripping them completely away from me. I woke up immediately and pulled him into my arms, cooing and promising that he was safe and everything was okay. We didn't sleep for the rest of the night because he was too scared to have another, to see the faces and places that so often plagued his nighttime.

I thought the nightmares stopped, or at least they became more sparse. Over the years, Spencer's time in prison became further and further away and while he never forgets a face, the faces seemed to get blurrier and the names he cried out became more jumbled, as if he was starting to become unsure if the syllables were correct. He still carries around his trauma like a suitcase with a broken wheel but he started therapy and it became easier for him to talk to me about his pain and he started to get better.

But then there are the hard days. There's the days where Spencer sees someone on the street who looks similar to someone he's killed on the job or someone who has hurt him, or the days when he has flashbacks, or the days when he spends hours staring at the crooks of his elbows, wondering if he should go find just one more vile of dilaudid to dull his pain. Or the day when his team finds out that he's dating an internationally famous singer- me. These send him into panic attacks that can last for minutes or hours or days. Panic attacks lead to nightmares, and that's the worst.

I know something is wrong when Spencer kicks me. He's always a relatively still sleeper and not much of a blanket hog, that's my job. He often complains over breakfast about how he awoke in the middle of the night to cold feet and my arm over his face, but always with a reassurance that he loves me regardless, usually pairing his words with a kiss and wandering hands.

So when I'm awoken by Spencer's leg jamming into mine, I'm wide awake. I let out a whine and reach for the lamp on the bedside table, flipping it on and refraining from whimpering at the sudden light. I rub my eyes and sit up, turning to look down at my sleeping boyfriend beside me. He's drenched in sweat and clutching the duvet in his hand, gradually pulling it closer to him. Whines and moans are growing from the back of his throat as his brows become tenser, and I let out a defeated sigh.

Spencer has explained to me many times that trying to wake him up from a nightmare will only make it worse and that's it's best if I just wait until he's awake to comfort him. Maybe that's the worst part, just watching him suffer. I have to watch him thrash around and listen to him scream names of those who have died because of him and I can't do anything until his body decides the trauma is enough for now.

He starts to kick his legs when his lips part and some mumbled words fall from his mouth, but I can't understand them. I watch helplessly as he progresses, pulling the duvet up to cover his face. This makes me panic and even though I've been instructed not to touch him or interfere with his dream, I fear he could smother himself. So I reach forward and pull back the blanket, flinching when his hand tries to smack mine away a few times. He's shouting names and whimpering and tears are pouring down his cheeks and I'd be lying if I said I'm not starting to cry too.

"Spencer," I breathe out, unable to witness this anymore. "Baby, wake up, please,"

He's crying out for help, reaching for someone who will never come. I'm right here but he's wishing for someone else, someone maybe on his team or maybe there's someone he's intending to help or maybe he's just needing to be held or maybe he's needing someone who's dead. But no matter who it is he's needing, he's crying out and his knuckles are white around the duvet.

Then his eyes fly open and his chest is heaving, and it's like time stops for a second. Spencer looks down at his hands and he releases the duvet from his iron grasp, lips parted as he takes shallow breaths.

"Spencer," I whisper, and he jumps at the sound of my voice. He's clearly forgotten that I was here. It's times like this that I hate my job and how I'm always traveling, how I'm not always around when he needs me. I'm holding myself together but I'm choking on my own sobs, holding out my hand to him. "It's okay, I'm here. You're okay, I've got you,"

Spencer reaches out a shaky hand and takes mine in his, collapsing into my arms in a heap of heavy cries. I hold him as tight as I can bear, rubbing his back as he tucks his face into my shoulder. I squeeze my eyes shut as I shush him, feeling his body completely meld into mine.

"Spencer, you're so-" I gulp, clutching his tee-shirt, "you're safe. It was just a dream, you know that. You're right here with me,"

"It seemed so real," Spencer cries. "It hurts,"

"Shh, darling, I know it does, I know it really hurts you," I lift my head and bring my hand to his cheek, lifting his head too. I wipe his tears with the sleeve of my flannel, or his flannel, and my heart breaks even more when I see how devastated he looks. "Why don't we go take a seat on the balcony and get some fresh air? That usually helps, doesn't it?"

Spencer nods and untangles himself from me and the duvet, heading towards the door on the other side of the bedroom. I grab a fresh blanket on the way out, one that's not covered in sweat and tears, and watch Spencer sit down in an armchair, giving him a weak smile. "Do you want me to go make some tea?"

"No, I don't wanna be alone yet," Spencer shakes his head, looking up at me with bloodshot eyes. "Will you sit with me?"

I nod and move to sit on his lap, knowing the physical contact will keep him grounded and will prevent him from getting lost in his dream again. His eidetic memory has been leaning on the cursed side than the blessing side lately, meaning that every image of what Spencer saw in prison is so vivid. Sometimes he has trouble telling what's real and what isn't and I have to remind him. Sometimes he asks, sometimes I have to become the profiler and figure out when he's struggling. But that's hard when I'm always so far away from him.

"You know," Spencer keeps his gaze out on the dark sky as he speaks, placing one of his hands on my thigh, "a few weeks ago when you were in Germany?"

I keep my eyes on him, nodding slowly. "Of course I remember. What about it?"

"I called you," his voice is meek and quiet, wavering and cracking. "It was the middle of the night here and I called you and you didn't pick up,"

I furrow my eyebrows at him, tilting my head. "Spence, honey, I called you back ten minutes later. I told you then, I was in an interview. I couldn't answer my phone,"

"I know," he whispers, fingers tightening around my thigh. "But I had a nightmare," he lets out a shaky breath as a new wave of tears falls down his cheeks. "They've been coming back so much worse and it sucks to be without you and I hate waking up alone and I called you because I needed you and-"

"Spencer," I hush him, wiping his cheeks again when he starts to get worked up.

So he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. "I- you didn't pick up, and I was crying and I didn't know what was real. You know- everything looked all, you know, tunnely and blurry and I just- I needed you and you didn't answer and I was in so much pain,"

My chest feels tight and I can only imagine where this is going. Spencer has been wearing long sleeves since we saw each other for the first time yesterday but he's wearing a tee-shirt now, but the thought never crossed my mind that he relapsed. It never has. I always had confidence in him, but now? This moment is the only time when I'm scared that the road in front of us is bumpy and narrow and full of spikes and potholes.

"Spencer," I breathe out, putting my hands on his cheeks, bringing his gaze to mine. "Please tell me you didn't," His jaw tightens under my grasp and he doesn't speak immediately. He's breathing heavily under my hold and it does nothing to increase my confidence in his sobriety.

"I got dressed," he finally forces out. "I changed my clothes and I put on shoes and I was crying but I got my keys and I left my apartment." With just that, I collapse into his arms, burying my face in his neck and crying. "I don't know where I was thinking I could go but I just left my apartment. But- but then you called me," I lift my head at his words, eyebrows furrowed. "You called me right as I got outside and you were laughing at something and you just started telling me this story about how you made homemade pizza the night before with Carly and Whitney and I just- I went back home,"

"You didn't relapse?"

"No," Spencer shakes his head. "You called me and just talked to me about nonsense and you just reminded me how much I love you and how disappointed you'd be if I put such horrible stuff into my body ever again,"

My lips quiver as I nod, tears pouring down my cheeks. "Yeah," I lay my fingers on his cheeks delicately, "I'm so proud of you, baby. You're so strong,"

Spencer scoffs. "Doesn't feel like it," he looks back out at the city lights and sighs. "Is that tea offer still on the table?"

"Of course," I bring his gaze back to mine, but his eyes are glossed over. "Tell me you love me," He hums in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. "You heard me. I just wanna hear it. Just, please, tell me you love me,"

"Lottie, I love you so much," Spencer whispers, turning his head to press his lips to the palm of my hand. "I love you,"

I smile happily, content with that answer. "I love you too. I'll be right back,"

I crawl off of his lap and cover him with the blanket before hurrying inside, scurrying down the flight of stairs to the kitchen. The first floor is almost pitch black and it's only now that I notice it's four in the morning. Shaking off my exhaustion, I put on a kettle and grab two tea bags from the cabinet, happy that I have at least something in the food realm after being on tour for a few months. I carry the steaming mugs up the stairs and stifle a yawn, grumbling when I stub my toe against the top stair. But I make my way back into the bedroom and close the door with my foot, returning to the brisk balcony with my shaky boyfriend.

He's still staring off at the city as I set the mugs on the little table, taking a deep breath. "I didn't put anything in your tea," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Didn't think you wanted anything too sweet-"

"Will you marry me?"

If I was still holding the mugs, I would have dropped them. My eyes widen and my mouth goes dry, and it takes me a minute to form a coherent thought. But all I force out is, "what?"

"Will you marry me?" Spencer repeats, turning to look at me. "I've been waiting for the right moment to ask for a long time now and I just- no moment is ever gonna be the right moment, is it? And I just can't wait anymore," he moves the blanket off his lap and stands, and I notice now that he's holding a ring box in his hand. He must have grabbed it from inside while I was making tea. "I've never loved anyone the way I love you, Lottie. I wanna wake up next to you every morning and I wanna be your husband and have a family with you and grow old with you- I want that. I never thought I'd ever get that but now I have you and I never wanna let you go. I want to be by your side forever, even when you're stealing the blankets," I let out a laugh through my tears, reaching my hands up to wipe them with my sleeves. "So what do you say?" He seems genuinely nervous that I'll say no. But why would I spend five years of my life professing my undying love for this man just to deny his marriage proposal?

I sniffle, a smile creeping onto my face. "Are you gonna get down on one knee?" Spencer smiles, nodding as he leans on his knee that didn't previously get shot, opening up the ring box to reveal a beautiful jewel to me. The moment becomes real and a new wave of tears rolls down my cheeks. Spencer's crying too and it's just all too perfect. I reach my hand forward to wipe his cheeks. "Ask me again," I whisper.

Spencer catches my hand on his free one, kissing my knuckles. "Lottie, will you marry me?"

"Yes," I answer quickly with a sharp nod. "Yes, Spencer, of course, I will," The biggest smile breaks onto his face and he lets out a sigh of relief, jumping up and pulling me into a hug. He lifts me off my feet and spins me around, eliciting a giggle from me.

"Wait, let me put it on you," Spencer mumbles excitedly, setting me back down before pulling the ring out of the box and throwing it onto the floor.

He slides the ring onto my finger and it fits perfectly but I should have expected that from him. I think I told him once what my ring size was during a dress fitting for the Oscar's and, of course, he remembered all these years. He's amazing, this man.

"God, Spencer, I love you so much," I grab his cheeks and pull his lips down to mine, taking in every inch of him that I can. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler #mgg #matthew gubler

[ellewritesathing]

So Close - S.S. XLV

Summary: The universe has a funny way of putting the things you want right in front of you, but just out of reach. Stiles and Y/N have been best friends ever since Scott brought him home, but when Stiles realizes that he might want to be something other than best friends, she leaves to go to some fancy private school up North. Now that she’s back though … maybe he’s got a shot? A Teen Wolf AU in which the reader has always been so close to Stiles and yet so far.

Masterlist   Prev. | Part 45

Word-count: 5.7k+

A/N: guys. guys. guys!!! happy birthday to the longest thing i’ve ever written!! this baby turns one year old today and that is fucking mind blowing. my life has been pretty weird this past year but this fic has been my one consistency so i guess what i’m trying to say is thank you for sticking around with me this long 💕

You’d done plenty of dumb things with Scott and Stiles - jumped off a roof and broken Scott’s arm, snuck a raccoon into the school and left it in Coach’s office, gotten trapped in the mall overnight, just to name a few - but you had never felt quite so dumb as when you had to explain to Noah why there were claw marks on the Beacon Hills Service van while Stiles got his wrist set. 

“What … in the hell … were you three thinking?” Noah asked. “From you two-” he waved an accusatory hand at Scott and Stiles “-I can understand. But you?”

“I wanted to make sure no one got hurt,” you said instantly. Considering all the bad guys you'd gone up against without squirming, it was a little embarrassing that it only took Noah a minute to get you sweating. 

“Uh, I got hurt,” Stiles said defensively, turning away from the medic to argue. 

“No one other than you,” you corrected.  

“Okay, you kids can battle this out after someone tells me what you thought you were doing speeding down the highway and chasing after a Beacon Hills Service vehicle,” Noah said. “On a school night.” He looked at each of you and you nodded sheepishly. 

Scott shrugged and looked at his shoes before answering, “We were just trying to help.”

“Well, why don’t you try and help me understand-” Noah caught his voice, leaned in, and angrily whispered “-what the hell happened here?”

Stiles picked at the brace on his wrist. “Right, well, we were trying to gently persuade him to pull over …” 

“He was getting away,” you added awkwardly. “So, Scott tried to stop him.” 

Noah didn’t look impressed. “He got away.”

“Right! Because, obviously, he’s some sort of criminal mastermind, Dad,” Stiles argued.

“Uh-huh.” Noah started walking away and motioned to you guys to follow him. “You want to guess what the stolen merchandise is?” He led you to the back of the van and opened it up to reveal gas canisters. “Hmm?”

Scott sighed next to you and you pulled a face. Stiles, however, was not so ready to give up. “Critical life-saving medical equipment?” he asked. 

“No.” 

“Poison gas?”

“Nope.”

“... Filled with drugs?”

Noah leaned in. He looked to the sides like he was checking that no one was spying on you, and said, “Helium.”

“Helium?” Stiles repeated, his face going from confident to unbelievably frustrated in less than a second. He was so sure that this time had been the real deal. 

“Like the stuff they put in balloons?” Scott asked. 

“Exactly.” Noah closed the doors and let out a sigh when he turned to look at you again. “Just go home. I’ll call you if I need anything.” 

You and Scott started walking Stiles back to the Jeep while he mumbled about how his dad hadn’t called them in months. And you guys all knew that Noah wouldn’t call for anything less than the apocalypse, so none of you even bothered to comfort him with the possibility of being called. 

Stiles was so agitated that he actually let Scott drive you guys home, even if he tried to keep quiet about it. After about five minutes of awkward silence, Scott looked over at Stiles for a second before turning back to the road. 

“This could be a good thing,” he said hopefully. 

“That we saved helium?” Stiles asked.

Scott laughed, a smile still on his face as he spoke. “I mean, that … they don’t need us anymore.” 

It was strange to picture your life where you weren’t constantly trying to defeat some omnipotent bad guy, but not in a bad way. As scared as the thought made you, it also excited you. You might actually have a life outside of the supernatural again, a life after high school.

That hope was extinguished ever so slightly when Stiles scoffed. “Okay, well, they need us,” he said. “They just don’t know it.”

“We’re all going off to college soon-” 

“Excuse me?” you asked. 

“Most of us are going off to college soon,” Scott corrected. He caught your eye in the mirror and gave you an apologetic smile. “So, Beacon Hills is gonna have to survive without us.”

“Beacon Hills will burn to the ground without us,” Stiles said softly. He looked out the window instead of at you or Scott.

Scott tried to be equally soft when he spoke again. “Stiles … they don’t need us.”

Stiles’ phone started buzzing before he could say anything in his defense. Noah was calling him. Just like that, he went from dejected to excited again. “They need us!” he yelled. 

Over the phone, Noah explained that there was a kid in the office, Alex, who was in an accident with his parents but couldn’t remember anything. His parents were missing and no one had seen anything. Noah was still in the middle of maybe, possibly asking if Scott would mind using his powers to access Alex’s memory when Stiles said you’d be right there and made Scott turn the Jeep around. 

Stiles gave you a cheesy grin as Scott made a u-turn and your heart ached. Stiles couldn’t shift his focus like the rest of you, which was why he’d had you guys looking into every vaguely-abnormal incident since he’d gotten out of the hospital. Fighting bad guys left him drained and nearly dead, but it was still all he wanted to do. He couldn’t picture a life without it. 

And you loved him for it. You loved the way he thought and the way his mind worked, but you worried how he’d react every time you chased down a bad guy on the highway and all you found was helium. You weren’t sure how many false alarms he had left in him.

It was difficult to focus on Stiles once you were in Noah’s office, though. Alex was so young and he looked so scared. He’d barely spoken, other to say that he couldn’t remember anything and that he needed to find his parents. 

Scott put a hand on Alex’s arm and gave him an encouraging smile. “You ready?”

Alex frowned but then he nodded, tears in his eyes. And then Scott sunk his claws into Alex’s neck. Alex’s head rolled back and Scott took a deep breath. 

“Uh, what do we do now?” Noah asked. 

“Time it?” you suggested. 

Stiles pulled out his phone and gave you a shaky smile. “Already on it.”

The three of you huddled around Stiles’ phone and took turns looking between the timer and Scott like you were watching a ping pong match. When the timer hit four minutes, exactly, Scott pulled his claws out and sprang away from Alex as they both tried to breathe again. 

You and Stiles pulled Scott up to his feet. “What happened?” you asked, holding onto Scott's hand.

“I saw a guy on a horse,” Scott said, not taking his eyes off Alex. 

“A horse?” Stiles asked. Behind Scott's back, he shot a look at you that said, Cowboys? Is he serious?

Scott slowly looked away from Alex and at Stiles. “He had a gun.”

“Okay, a guy with a gun. That sounds like my department, not yours,” Noah said with a confused but hopeful expression on his face.

“What about his parents? What happened to them?” Stiles asked. 

“I don’t know. That’s all I remember,” Scott said. He tried to focus on the memory and shook his head after a few seconds “But … I got this feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?” you asked, ducking your head slightly to look at him. 

“They’re coming back,” Alex said. You almost jumped - it was the first thing he’d said since you’d been in the room with him. He looked up and stared at you guys; his eyes were haunted. “They’re coming for me.”

“I think this is our department,” Stiles said quietly. 

Noah was still hesitant to hand the case over to you - you figured he liked the idea of you guys leading semi-normal lives, at least until graduation - but he let you look at Alex’s car with Lydia and Malia. 

Stiles didn’t need any more encouragement to take you and Scott to the evidence lot. It only took Lydia ten minutes to get to the lot, but she sat in the car for what felt like an eternity, running her hand along the hood and then the windshield, feeling up the doors and the interior. You and Scott stood outside, him trying to catch a scent and you waiting for Malia.

You heard a familiar howl and then Malia ran into the lot as a coyote. Every time you saw her in this form, you smiled at the thought of how proud it would make Derek. Another Hale in full control in full-shift. She shifted back to human in a few seconds and you handed her some clothes. 

“Did you find anything?” you asked as she jumped into some pants. 

Malia pulled her head through the hole of a sweatshirt and shook her head. “They’re dead. Probably torn apart.” 

“I don’t think they’re dead,” Lydia said as she got out of the car.

“The only thing I don’t get is why there’s no blood,” Malia continued. She shoved her arms through the sleeves.

“They’re not dead,” Lydia argued. “If they were dead, I’d sense it.”

“And if they were alive, I’d smell it,” Malia said.

“Yeah, I’m not getting anything either,” Scott said, determined to look anywhere except for Malia. 

“Scott, what are you talking about? You were in his head for four minutes,” Stiles said as he climbed out of the car. “I timed it.”

“Well, it’s not an exact science,” Scott said, looking over at Malia and Lydia for the first time. “And he’s a kid. Maybe he’s too freaked out to remember.” 

“No, Peter could see in Isaac’s head and he was just as freaked out,” you said. “If he can’t remember then there has to be another reason why.”

“What does any of this matter if they’re both dead?” Malia asked. She’d moved onto her shoes and looked up as she laced them. “Dead is dead.” 

“Okay, if it’s just a robbery, then we can’t help them. But if it’s something supernatural, then my dad can’t help them,” Stiles explained. 

“It sounds like you want it to be supernatural,” Lydia said. 

She didn’t mean it to come out so accusatory, you told yourself, but you still stepped in. “We just want to make sure that Alex has a fair chance of seeing his parents again,” you said. “And the longer we go without something supernatural happening … it just feels like this could be it, you know?” 

“Three months. It’s been three months since anything’s happened,” Stiles said, looking up from his hands to look at you. 

“Yeah, and once a week you drag me out of bed like I’m some sort of supernatural metal detector!” Lydia snapped. 

“Okay, it’s way more often than that,” Stiles admitted. Then he tried to recover his argument, “But you can’t tell me that you think this is just some series of impossible coincidences.”

“What I’m saying is maybe that wouldn’t be so bad,” Lydia said. She gave him a very deliberate look and then started walking away. Malia shrugged and followed after her.

You sighed and Scott shrugged at Stiles as he turned around to face you guys. Stiles seemed exasperated, like he always did when he wanted something to be supernatural and the others blew him off. He walked back over to the car and slammed the door after he got in. 

You walked over to the car, putting your hands on the doorframe and debating whether to rest one on Stiles’ shoulder. He stared so intensely at the windshield that you weren’t sure if he noticed you. “Hey,” you said gently. “You okay?” 

“There’s something wrong with the windshield,” Stiles mumbled. 

“Well, yeah. It’s broken,” Scott said as he walked closer. He took a spot next to you, standing next to the side mirror. “And it wasn’t a magic bullet. It was a regular bullet. That blew out a regular windshield.”

But if it was a regular bullet and regular windshield, there would be a bullet hole and fracture lines just like every other shot-up car in this lot. You were willing to bet that it wasn’t the windshield that was magic.

“Just like that one.” Scott looked over at one of the other cars. “And that one. And that one-” he stopped. He realized the same thing you did. 

Stiles reached forward and picked up a shard of glass from the dashboard. “Magic bullet,” he said quietly. 

--- 

Talking Stiles out of spending the entire night researching ghost cowboys on the internet and ordering about a dozen library books wasn’t an easy task. In an attempt to compromise, he ordered three books from the library and stayed on the phone with you until he fell asleep. As weird and terrifying as the idea of another supernatural evil coming to Beacon Hills was, it was nice to see Stiles so excited about something again. 

“Hey, do you know where my lucky coin is?” Stiles asked as you got in the Jeep the next morning. 

You moved your backpack around by your feet to get comfortable. “Your lucky coin?” 

“Yeah. The game token from that night we went to the arcade on one of our first dates. I got home, found it in my pockets, and like almost immediately you called and told me you loved me because you forgot to say it when we said goodbye,” Stiles said. He tapped on the steering wheel anxiously as he waited for the frown to disappear from your face. “My lucky coin.” 

“I think that would technically make it your lucky token,” you said, keeping an eye on him as you buckled your seatbelt.

“Okay, then do you know where my lucky token is?” Stiles asked. He was getting more and more frustrated at your bantering.

“Not a clue. I can check my room after school.” That didn’t seem to do much to ease whatever was worrying him. You turned and put a gentle hand on the side of his face, turning it away from his tapping hand to look at you. “Hey, are you going to tell me why you need your lucky token?” 

Stiles smiled. He stopped tapping and cupped your hand, turning to kiss it. “Would you believe me if I said it was back to school jitters?”

“No,” you said, giving him a matching smile. 

“Then give me a minute to come up with a better line.” 

He was joking, but whatever he’d learned in his hour of frantic googling had clearly freaked him out. Stiles gave your hand one last squeeze before turning back to face the front and pulling the Jeep out of your driveway. 

Without another mention of the lucky token or the ghost cowboys, the two of you fell into your familiar routine of walking each other to your lockers and then going to find your friends. Some days, you disappeared to catch up with Liam and Mason but today you went with Stiles to find the others. You wanted to ask Scott to keep an eye on him. 

You found him and Lydia sitting at one of the tables outside where Sydney was taking the yearbook photos. Stiles immediately went to harass Malia and you sat on the table between Scott and Lydia. They were talking about one of their advanced placement classes that they were both taking this semester and you barely got the chance to say anything before Malia stomped over with Stiles on her heels. 

“Why would I want to ruin your yearbook photo?” Stiles asked. 

“Maybe because you haven’t signed up for your own photo yet?” Malia asked. She broke her eye contact with Stiles to smile and give you a nod that was her version of saying good morning as she sat on the table on the other side of Lydia. 

Stiles dug a piece of paper out of his pocket. “Yes, I did,” he said as he unfolded it. He handed it to her and it was a blank order form for yearbook photos. You leaned over Lydia’s shoulder to see that not a single one of the boxes had been filled in.

“It’s blank,” Malia told him.

“Uh…” Stiles took the paper back and frowned at it.

“Or maybe you’re sublimating the stress of graduating by avoiding key milestones,” Scott said, looking up from the notes he’d been writing to look at Stiles. You turned to frown at him when you saw the textbook he was taking notes from. That explained why he sounded far more like Lydia than himself. He shrugged. “Psych paper.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” you said with an attempt at an easy smile as you reached a hand out to Stiles. He took a few steps closer and let you hold one of his hands. “You can be in mine with me.” 

“See, this is what being supportive looks like,” Stiles said, giving you a smile before turning to glare at Scott. “Take notes.”

“Plus, if you’re in one photo, it’ll be so much easier to make fun of you for being the most nauseating couple in the world that way,” Malia said. 

You laughed. “Yeah, thanks, Mal.” 

“Anytime.” Malia winked at you. 

You thought Stiles was going to argue with her but he just got a serious look on his face again and changed the subject. “Hey, so the Deputy searched the car - no slugs, no exit holes. And the address Alex gave my dad? It’s an abandoned house,” Stiles said. Your friends were quiet. “Come on! Missing parents, suspicious guy on horseback, magic bullet … who’s coming with?”

“I’ve got to retake my photos,” Malia said.

Lydia shook her head and pulled a face. “Yeah … not interested.”

Stiles turned to Scott but he was too quick. “I cannot miss any more classes,” Scott said before Stiles even had the chance to ask. “I missed thirty-eight last semester.”

“Scott-” 

“Lydia’s mom is the only reason I’m still in school,” Scott continued. “I can go with you after school.” 

“You know what? Forget it,” Stiles said. “I’ll take Y/N and Liam.” 

“Uh … you sure about that?” You nodded over to the quad where Liam was trying to suck Hayden’s face off. It didn’t look like he was going to an abandoned house any time soon. 

“Ugh, I change my vote for the most nauseating couple,” Malia mumbled.

“Yeah, I’m not taking Liam,” Stiles said, pulling the exact same face that Lydia did at the mention of the abandoned house. He straightened up and squeezed your hand. “But you’ll still go with me, right?” 

You hesitated. As much as you wanted to, you’d also missed more school than the school board deemed appropriate. Luckily, Sydney popped up with her camera before you needed to answer. 

“Hey, can I get a candid?” she asked. 

“Yeah, sure!” Scott said over Stiles protests. He pulled Stiles down onto the spot on the bench between him and Lydia where your legs were. 

You moved to make space for Stiles and held onto his shoulders as he slumped into his seat. “Okay, fine,” he said. He pulled out a shard of glass from his pockets and gave it to Scott. In a low voice, he added, “If you can explain to me why this is blue, I’ll let it go.”

“Everyone smile!” Sydney said. 

You guys huddled slightly closer and pulled out your best smiles. Sydney loved it and then asked for another, more fun shot. Obviously, your first instinct was to harass Stiles and Scott from your higher vantage point while Lydia and Malia did the Charlie’s Angels finger gun pose.

---

The plan was to go with Stiles to the abandoned house during your free period, but after one very angry text about how Lydia’s mother was ruining your lives, you figured the plan had changed. Stiles promised to meet you at the Jeep after school, so you went home to look for his lucky token instead. 

Every couch cushion, jacket pocket, and shoe was checked but you couldn't find the token anywhere. You were lying on the floor next to all your pillows and blankets when something shiny caught your eye under your bed. Underneath Cora’s old geometry notebook, you found a game token for the Feliscore Arcade. 

You flipped it over in your hands a few times, thinking about the night Stiles had gotten it. Movies, bookstore browsing, and then the arcade. It was one of the first real dates the two of you had gone on. Smiling, you slipped the token into your pocket and headed back to the school. 

You only had a few classes left until the end of the day, so you didn’t mention the token to Stiles. You’d tell him in person after checking out the house with him, maybe if the house turned out to be nothing then you could cheer him up with the token and some diner food.

The classes dragged on but you met Scott and Stiles at the Jeep as promised and the drive was rushed and full of complaints about how Natalie and Noah really should be more understanding considering that you guys had saved them on more than one occasion. You and Scott didn’t interrupt but you did catch each other’s eye in the rearview mirror. 

The house was face-brick and old, the street gravel and empty, and all the plants overgrown. If that wasn’t enough to creep you out, the clear sky from this morning was full of dark clouds that cast shadows all over the abandoned house.

The front door was unlocked and it creaked as Scott pushed it open, revealing a house that was completely bare except for the spiderwebs. At least, there was a table in the dining room, with two very dusty places set. 

“You wanna split up?” Scott asked. 

“No way,” you said at the same time that Stiles said, “Absolutely not.”

Scott shrugged and led the way to the dark and decaying staircase. You held Stiles’ hand as the two of you followed, reminding yourself that you were way scarier than anything that might have been lurking in this ghost house. 

The second floor was just as empty as the first, but almost all the doors were shut which made it darker. 

“Maybe Alex got the address wrong,” you said quietly. 

“Yeah, or he lied,” Stiles said, poking his head into one of the empty rooms as you made your way down the passage. 

“Why would he lie?” Scott asked.

You reached the door at the end of the hall. It looked more beaten up than the others, with its paint peeling away and scratches on the frame. Hesitantly, Stiles reached forward and opened it. 

The room was clean. It had furniture and a neat bed, blue painted walls, and decorations on every available surface. This room didn’t belong with the rest of the ghost house; it was the room of a thirteen-year-old boy. 

“He didn’t lie,” Stiles said over his shoulder as he sped into the room. 

“Why didn’t the cops say anything about this?” Scott asked as he looked around. 

Stiles tore his gaze away from a bookshelf to say, “They don’t know it’s here. They can’t come in without a warrant and there’s no owner of record to serve a warrant to, so unless there’s some kind of threat or imminent danger, they wouldn’t come in.”

Something rattling downstairs made you jump. 

Stiles reached out and touched your arm. “Hey, you okay?” 

“Someone’s downstairs,” you whispered.

“I’ll go check it out. You guys stay here,” Scott said. He didn’t give you a chance to argue before he left and closed the door behind him. 

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment. Stiles was still holding onto your arms but he was looking at Alex’s corkboard when you opened your eyes again. 

“Do any of these look weird to you?” he asked in a low voice, taking one of his hands off to point at the pictures. 

You took a step closer to see them more clearly. “He’s alone in all of them,” you said. Your eyes caught on a photo on the table underneath the board. The frame said Number 1 Dad but there was no one in it except for Alex. “It’s like everyone else was taken out.”

“Yeah, I-” Stiles stopped and looked behind you. Slowly, he walked over to the bed and crouched in front of it. He got on all fours and pulled the sheet up to look underneath. For a second, he stayed in that position like he was frozen, and then he bolted up to his feet. “Did you see that?” 

“See what?” you asked. 

“The- the horse. I saw it’s hooves and heard it snarl. Is that the right word? Do horses snarl?” he asked. His breathing was quick like before his panic attacks. 

“Hey-” You put a hand on either side of his face so he looked at you and not the empty space in front of the window. “I didn’t see anything, but I believe you, okay? Let’s just find Scott and get out of here.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Stiles said with a nod. He grabbed one of your hands and started you out. He stopped so you could close the door, but he was staring down the hallway when you turned around again. His eyes were fixed on something you couldn’t see.

Stiles pulled you behind him and then the first shot went off. You weren’t sure where it came from, but the two of you fell into the wall and slid down to the floor. Stiles pulled your head into his chest as two more shots went off. 

“Where is this coming from?” you asked, trying to look over his arm. 

“You can’t see him?” Stiles asked. His heart raced as more and more shots went off. 

Then it was silent. 

“What happened?” Scott yelled as he ran up the stairs with Liam and Mason. 

You and Stiles scrambled back to your feet as they closed the distance. 

“He was here. He shot at us,” Stiles said. “It was one of the guys you saw in Alex’s memory.”

“The guy who took his parents?” Mason asked. 

“No. No, they weren’t just taken. They were- they were made to disappear. That’s why there’s no furniture. That’s why they weren’t in any of the photos,” Stiles said quickly. He took a breath and looked at you. “They were erased.” 

Stiles spun on his heel and tore open the door again. The walls were still blue and it was relatively dust-free, but it was empty. All of Alex’s stuff was gone. Even though you’d seen it only minutes before, your brain tried to tell you that Alex’s stuff had never been there at all.

---

Stiles’ first stop was the library, which meant your first stop was the library. Scott, Liam, and Mason disappeared for lacrosse practice, and Lydia wasn’t there for very long before Natalie texted her to come home for dinner. She asked if Stiles could walk her out since it was dark and there were lunatics with guns on the loose. 

“Sure,” you said with a smile. “He’ll be down in a sec.” 

Lydia smiled and started walking to the stairs, leaving you and Stiles alone with all his research books. He started closing them and piling them together when you reached out and put your hand over his.

“I’ll pack these up, okay?” you said. 

“Uh, sure,” Stiles said. “Why did you want me to stay then?” 

“I just want you to promise me that whatever this is, we’ll figure it out together.” You took his hand off the book and held it in both of yours. “I know it’s easier to do it by yourself than to wait for me to catch up, but please-” 

“I promise,” Stiles said. It surprised you how easy that was. “Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out together. No matter what, alright?”

“Alright.” You smiled and pulled him closer so you could kiss him. With your head against his forehead, you sighed and said, “I guess I should let you go before Lydia leaves without you.” 

Stiles laughed. His thumb grazed your cheek as he pulled away. “Meet me in front?” 

“Be safe,” you said with a smile. “I love you.” 

Stiles gave you one more smile as he started walking backward. “I love you, too.”

Then he turned around and disappeared down the stairs after Lydia. 

It didn’t take you long to pack up the books, but once the last one was on its shelf, you struggled to remember why you’d taken it out in the first place. Chalking it up to a lapse in memory due to too much late-night studying, you tried to shrug off the feeling as you grabbed your bag. 

But there was still something wrong when you stepped out into the hallway. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were supposed to do something. Before you got the chance to figure it out, your phone buzzed and an unknown number flashed across the screen. 

‘At the station. Alex is next.’ 

“Who the hell is Alex?” you mumbled, locking your phone again and sliding it into your pocket. 

You wandered around the school, trying to find one of your friends to take you home. Scott was nowhere to be found but after about half an hour you eventually found Liam, Hayden, and Mason being harassed by some guy.

He was taller than them, wiry, with choppy brown hair. As he spoke, his hands flew around in the air and tugged at the red flannel he wore. There was something so familiar about him, as erratic as he was. You knew him.

“-So you guys, you can’t be alone,” he said. His voice was so familiar, as was his heartbeat. There was a tiny, almost imperceptible lilt in his heartbeat. “You gotta stick with Scott or with me because I can see them.” They didn’t say anything. Did they know him? How did he know Scott? “Why the hell are you looking at me like that?”

Hayden whispered something to Liam as you came closer. He said he didn’t know him. 

“Do you … go to this school?” Mason asked.

“What’s your name?” Liam asked. 

He was confused. Something about his face made you want to reach out for him and comfort him, but you didn’t know why. It was more an instinct to protect him than anything else. 

Then he pushed Liam and Mason aside and started running. He stopped Noah and pulled him into a hug. You were so busy trying to work out how you knew him that you couldn’t focus on what he was saying. You couldn't focus on anything other than the lilt of his heartbeat.

He froze again. Then he started walking away like he was in a daze. He pulled out his phone and called someone, and it took you a second to realize he was talking to Scott. 

He hung up. 

“It’s me. I’m next.” 

And then he started running. 

You bolted after him, not wanting to lose him again. Whoever he was, you knew him and you weren’t going to let him disappear. 

“Hey!” You yelled and grabbed his hand. It took him a second to realize that you weren’t a threat. He stopped running but he was still restless. “Hey, let me help you.”

“What’s my name?” he asked. His voice shook. You tried to think about it, but you just couldn’t remember his name, no matter how familiar his hands felt or how badly you wanted to make him safe. “Oh, god. You don’t remember me.” 

“I know you,” you said. “I don’t- I don’t know how, but I know you.” 

He put his hands on either side of your face and kissed you. It was over in a second but it felt like you’d been kissing him all your life. “I love you, but I’ve gotta go.” He pulled away to start running again when you grabbed his hand to make him stay.

“No! Let me come with you.” 

He looked heartbroken. “You don’t even remember me.” 

“But I know you,” you said. You held his hand tighter. “And I’m not letting anything happen to you. So wherever you’re running … I’m running, too.”

“Okay,” he said quietly. He nodded, more to himself than to you. “Okay, let’s go.”

He started running. He was fast, but he was undoubtedly human. He kept looking at things that you couldn’t see and pulling you out of invisible danger. Maybe he was like Lydia. Maybe you could help him. 

“Don’t look at them,” he said. “Whatever you do, don’t fight them and don’t look at them or they’ll take you too.” 

“But I-” 

“Promise me.” 

“I promise. No matter-” The words caught in your throat. They rolled off your tongue without thinking, but it bothered you that you couldn't remember why you were saying them.

Whoever he was, he dragged you to a powder blue Jeep and fumbled for the keys as you slammed the doors. Then he stopped. He looked around and took a breath. 

“Hey, we can still get out of here,” you said, leaning over to touch his hand. 

“No,” he said quietly. He looked over at you with the most heartwrenching expression you’d ever seen. You didn’t know why that look made you want to cry. “There’s no time.” 

“There’s plenty of time,” you said, needing more than anything for him to stop looking so sad. “Just start the car. We can go anywhere you want.” 

“Hey, listen to me,” he said. He turned and cupped your face like he did in the hall, but he didn’t kiss you this time. “My name is Stiles. I’m gonna be erased, just like Alex. You’re going to forget me.” 

“Stiles,” you repeated. “Stiles, I won’t forget you. Not again, okay? I can’t- I can’t lose you again.” 

“I love you,” Stiles said. And you knew he meant it. He knew you better than you knew yourself, and he loved you. 

“I love-” 

Something ripped him out of the car. 

And then he was gone. 

Stiles was gone. 

Tagged: @ietss​  @used-avocado​

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles slow burn #mccall!reader #teen wolf #teen wolf au #teen wolf rewrite

[solynaceawrites]

Promise Me Forever [9]

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Tags: Slow Burn, Romance, Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe, First Time, Friends to Lovers Chapters: 9/14 co-written by @lickitysplitfic​ Summary: An old, long-forgotten promise between gods comes back to haunt Dante when it deposits an unfamiliar woman on his door. Claiming to be the descendant of Ler, she says that they’re meant to fulfill the oath made by Sparda centuries ago, and all he can do is watch as she turns his life upside down. Yet when her parents come knocking, demanding the oath be fulfilled, he’s forced to choose: return to the bachelor ways he loved so much, or give in to the emotions brewing between him.

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Dante frowns at his reflection, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he tries to tug the tie a bit looser. He can't even remember the last time he wore a get-up like this . . . Hell, he might never have worn a suit and everything. He leans in to examine his face, clean of any stubble and pizza sauce, before straightening up so he can smooth his palms down the jacket.

"Hmm," he says to himself. His hair hangs in its typical messy-but-totally-intentional strands, and he wonders if he should gel them back or something. But then he'd look like Vergil, and Dante snorts, wondering what he would think of all this—of course, if Vergil was around, he'd be the one about to marry Lir.

"Whatcha laughing at?" Nero asks from the bed, where he is bent over tying his shoes.

"Nothin'." Nero snorts, but doesn't press, and for that, at least, Dante's grateful. Today is going to be enough of a pain without dredging up the kid's trauma—not to mention his own—and any reprieve, however slight, is more than welcome.

He eyes the decanter of whiskey set on the dresser. Lir had sent it up with Nero when the kid arrived, alone with her hopes that he would enjoy it, but he hasn't been able to bring himself to touch the stuff. The last meeting with her family had been disaster enough without alcohol involved; he'd hate to hear their bitchin' if he showed up with liquor on his breath.

"Right." Nero stands, running a hand through his hair, which is far shorter than it was when he and Dante met. "You ready?"

"I don't know," Dante admits. He turns and puts his arms out, glancing down before frowning at Nero. "How do I look?"

Nero laughs and shakes his head. "You want my honest answer?"

"Sure."

"Like you're about to piss yourself," he chuckles. "But grooms are supposed to be, right?"

Dante makes a face. "No? I don't know."

Nero shrugs. "I don't know, you look like a guy who hunts demons and had to put on a suit. So I'd say, you look like yourself."

Dante sighs. "Let's just get this over with."

"That's the spirit," Nero teases, followed by another laugh.

He starts towards the door, still fussing with the tie at his throat, only to be stopped by Nero. Frowning, he tilts his head, and the kid shrugs and reaches up to fix the mess he'd made of the knot. "There," he mutters, stepping back and studying him with a squint. "Least now you look like you know what you're doing."

". . . Thanks," Dante mutters.

Nero nods and moves to open the door, holding it open until Dante has stepped through. Then they descend the stairs towards the main floor, from where the sounds of laughter and excited chatter echo. That makes him feel worse, somehow: so much on Lir's shoulders, forcing her here to marry a jackass with nothing much going on for him, and those people are having fun?

By the time they get to the bottom, Nero is looking at him funny again. "You okay, man?" he asks. "Never seen you that color before."

Dante nods, and they head over to where Morrison is waving at them. The shop has been transformed into a party area, chairs lined up in rows before the little foyer in front of the door, where the two of them will say their vows. He spies Lir's parents trying to get his attention, but Dante ducks down and makes a beeline for Morrison. "Thanks for doing this," he mutters when they reach him. "Can we get started?"

"Just waiting on the bride," he chuckles. "You doing okay? You look pretty pale."

"He's nervous as fuck, that's why," Nero offers.

"Lir's family is here, can you cool it with the swears?" Dante hisses. He nods over to the two dozen or so people who occupy most of the space, chatting excitedly and sending sideways glances towards Lady and Trish. They are the only ones sitting on the groom's side, and Dante grits his teeth to see that neither of them are dressed like normal people.

Lady is in the same all-white ensemble she'd worn in Fortuna, while Trish's black corset is drawing more than a few scornful looks, but neither of them seem to care much. At least they aren't all over one another. He has no idea if the conservative values of Lir's family extends to personal relationships and has no desire to find out. He levels an unimpressed stare their way, one that Lady returns with a poisonously sweet smile. 'Don't faint,' she mouths, and he turns back to Morrison with a growl.

"Where's Lir?" he asks lowly.

"Upstairs with Kyrie," Nero answers. "I think a couple of women who might have been her sisters went, too. Something about prepping her for tonight, whatever that means."

"Oh, God," he groans. Dante wipes his brow with the back of his hand, then on his pants. Lir's parents have finally started over, and he considers hitting the fire alarm as he watches them approach.

Her father puts his hand out, which Dante takes weakly. "Very exciting!" Augustus says, nodding to the others. "Are we just about ready?"

"About time, too," Lorenna huffs. "Can't put this off forever." She narrows her eyes at Nero, looking him up and down, frowning when she spies his right arm, partially hidden by his coat. "Who is this?"

"Nero," Dante replies quickly, cutting off whatever profanity was, judging by how sharply Nero scowls, about to come out of his mouth. "He's a business associate. Runs the Fortuna branch of the Devil May Cry."

"Oh!" Lorenna perks up a bit. "Were you familiar with the Order, perhaps?"

Dante watches Nero visibly swallow his anger, and his voice is stiff when he says, "Yeah. I knew 'em."

"Interesting business that was," she says. "You must know a lot about Sparda, being familiar with the Order."

Nero shrugs. "Some I guess? Who knows if he was even real though, right?"

Internally, Dante winces. That was the entirely wrong thing to have said, and he realizes then that he should have warned Nero about how devoted these people are to Sparda as a mythical protector of humanity. Before things can devolve further, Kyrie appears at the bottom of the stairs and hurries over to Morrison.

"She's ready," she announces.

Augustus drags his wife away, who looks as though she has more to say, and Nero snorts. "These people are weird," he says before kissing Kyrie's cheek and watching as she goes to sit next to Lady.

"Yeah," Dante answers. Music starts from somewhere, and Nero frowns at him, grabbing his elbow and positioning him the other way. 

"Stand here," Nero snorts. He looks over Dante's shoulder and nods. "She's coming down the steps, don't you want to look?"

Dante blinks. His palms are damp, the small of his back clammy, and he's nervous, more so than he's ever been before. Makes sense, he supposes; like Nero said, grooms are supposed to be, right? Yet he feels like his body weighs tons as he turns, the world swimming around him in slow motion, and the sight of Lir nearly sends him running.

She's fucking gorgeous, and she's making a terrible mistake.

The dress she wears is the one he knows she's spent weeks carefully sewing, and it fits her like a damn glove, hugging her chest and hips before flaring into a train at her thighs, and her neck and shoulders are left bare. Dainty lace gloves cover her hands, clutching a bouquet of white and red roses, and, while he can't see much of her face due to the veil covering it, he already knows that she's going to be stunning. She already is, every single day, in jeans or a ball gown. Christ, his eyes are burning, and next to him Nero mutters, "You can cry. Most guys do."

"I'm not crying," he hisses, smiling at Lir when she reaches him.

Lir beams up at him through the veil, and holds out her hand to him, which he takes eagerly. "This is exciting, isn't it?" she whispers.

Dante nods, feeling his nerves start to settle as she grins.

"You look very handsome," she murmurs.

He swallows thickly. "Yeah. You look . . . Uh. Well. I've never seen anythin' prettier."

»»————-　⚜　————-««

Dante wrinkles his nose as he knocks back a sip of champagne. The taste is a bit weird, definitely preferring beer, or whiskey. But champagne was needed for the toasts, Lir had insisted, so he sighs as another one of her relatives or sisters or friends or whoever this seemingly endless parade of people are gets up to give them another lecture about Sparda and Ler disguised as a toast.

"You okay?" Lir whispers, patting his arm.

"Right as rain," he answers, returning her smile. She sits on his right, their table actually his desk, covered with a long linen cloth.

He feels a nudge on the shoulder. "How much longer is this?" Nero hisses in his ear. "I'm starving and these people are starting to freak me out."

Lir gives him a sheepish, almost embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, Nero. It should be over soon. They're just waiting for . . . for the sun to go down."

Dante frowns, glancing towards the windows. The sky outside is taking on the burning hues of evening, and the sun is barely touching the roofs of the buildings across the street. "Sunset? Why sunset?"

"Well, it's . . ."

She closes her mouth as a woman with Augustus' dark hair and Lorenna's shrewd eyes approaches. There's a band on her finger with a large diamond set in the center, but that doesn't stop her from eyeing him in a way that feels far too intimate. "Lirael," the woman coos. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

"You know who he is, Irene." It's the first time he's ever seen something akin to dislike settle on Lir's features, and he wracks his brain at the inkling of familiarity the name brings. "Dante, this is my older sister, third daughter of Augustus and Lorenna, 59th in the line of Ler."

She sticks out her hand, which Dante takes. "Nice to meet you?" he says uncomfortably.

"Mm-hm." She looks around, holding onto his hand so he can't pull away. "This is your place? Not much to it. You'd think the son of Sparda would have something . . ." Her voice trails off as she slowly drags her eyes up and down him. "Bigger," she finishes.

Behind him, Nero makes an odd sort of noise somewhere between a cough and a laugh, and Lir's brow pinches. "Irene," she says, warily.

Irene releases him with a smile and lifts the flute of champagne in her other hand. "A toast to the newly wed couple. May your union be satisfying too all, your joining full of delight."

"Thanks," Dante says, putting his arm around Lir for good measure. "Same to you," he continues, nodding towards the rock on her hand. 

"Oh, this? It's nothing," she laughs. Then her eyes flicker over to Nero. "Another son of Sparda?"

Nero makes a face. "Hell no, I ain't a Sparda. And I'm taken, lady."

"My mistake." She smiles at Lir again, taking a thoughtful sip of her champagne before saying, "Interesting ceremony you have here. Our sister was married on the beach, but an office building is nice too, I suppose. And pizza? You are living well."

"Dante likes it," Lir hisses.

"Does he?" One perfectly shaped brow arches. "Well, then I suppose it's alright. Though I must say, sister, I'm very surprised to see how well you've adjusted. What was it you said when you were chosen? That you'd rather die?"

Dante goes cold. She never told me that. But Lir is already lifting her chin. "That was before I knew him."

"I see." Irene taps the rim of her glass against her lips thoughtfully. "Did you know," she says to Dante, "that the only reason Lir was sent was that my engagement was announced two weeks before we learned of your existence?"

"Sounds like you had a lot of reasons to celebrate," he replies. His voice sounds steady, despite how numb his lips feel. Is she still miserable with this?

"Just think," Irene says, as if he hadn't spoken, "it could be the two of us sitting here right now." She laughs and takes another drink from her glass. "That would be interesting, wouldn't it? We wouldn't be eating pizza at a wedding, that's certain."

"Hey, back off." Nero steps up, his voice angry , putting out his left hand as if to keep her away. "Why don't you go find your table and leave them alone?"

She gives a simpering sort of smile before turning on her heel, her hips swaying more than Dante thinks is natural as she saunters back over to her parents. "I'm sorry," Lir murmurs. "She's . . . She wasn't happy to be passed over. I thought that wound would have healed by now, but . . ."

"It's fine." Dante sips his champagne and wrinkles his nose. Too sweet. "Believe me, I understand sibling rivalry just fine."

The speeches finally over, food is served, which seems to settle everyone. Dante is amazed at the dishes served, a combination of pasta dishes that does include pizza. He eats his fill as Lir discreetly points out who everyone is among their guests, keeping one eye on the table that sits his friends, hoping they don't get too rowdy. He notes how Lir seems to be getting fidgety, and after the caterers take the food away, she seems to be stiff as a board.

Dante spots some of Lir's family getting ready to swarm, so he leans over and murmurs, "Is it, uh . . . time?"

She jumps, but then nods. Dante frowns to see the bit of pinching in the corner of her eyes, but Lir tries to visibly relax. "Yeah. We’re going to need to go upstairs."

"Sounds good." Dante stands, putting his hands up and calling for attention. If Lir is this nervous, it's up to him to take charge, he decides. Least he can do after all this mess. 

Everyone stops talking and looks at him in surprise, and he ignores the whoop that comes from Trish. Lir whispers his name in the silence, but Dante's mind is made up. "Everyone, uh, I guess it's time for me and Lir to do the thing we need to do. So make sure to leave me some pizza, and don't drive if you get too trashed."

The expressions of their guests ranges from surprise to delight, but their stunned reaction to him is made worth it when he hears the little laugh that escapes Lir before she smothers it, and he offers her his hand. She takes it with a smile before addressing the crowd. "Thank you all for being here. I know the road has been . . . strange, but I'm happy, and proud, to be where I am. To be by his side."

He doesn't quite know what to make of that or the knots it sends his stomach into, so he merely nods, moving to rest his palm against the small of her back and guiding her to the stairs. Whispers erupt behind them, easy enough to ignore given his own inner turmoil. Dante is actually looking forward to this, and that makes him feel guilty, which only confuses him. Lir, at least, seems steady, climbing to the second floor with an easy grace.

Dante follows her into his bedroom, and he lets out a surprised noise when they get inside. It's the cleanest he's ever seen it, a completely new bedding set on the bed, fresh flowers placed around on the furniture. He looks around with a smile as he shuts the door, putting his hands on his hips as he takes it all in. "This place looks great," he says. "Did you do this?"

"Some of it." Lir moves to the window to open in a bit, and he watches as she takes a deep breath when the curtain sways a bit. She glances over her shoulder, but when their eyes meet she quickly turns away. "Can you help me with this veil?" she asks. "There's like a million pins in it."

"Sure," he murmurs, shrugging off his jacket as he walks over. Dante tosses it onto the chair in the corner, cleaned off of the pile of dirty clothes and even a new pillow fluffed on the seat, and steps up to Lir as she turns away from him. He frowns for a moment but then finds the first hairpin, pulling it out and tossing it on the top of the bureau. Carefully he works until he takes out a couple dozen and is able to work the comb attached free from her hair.

Lir sighs deeply, reaching up to help him. "My scalp thanks you," she chuckles, tossing the veil to join his jacket on the chair.

On impulse he slides his hands in her hair, giving her scalp a gentle massage, and Dante grins when she gives a little groan. "That's nice, thank you," Lir sighs.

"Mm-hm." The scent of her shampoo wafts gently every time his fingers brush through her hair. It's sweet, light, like the strawberries he loves so much, and he wonders if she'd chosen a new one just for him or if he never noticed it before. "I'd say you've earned it."

"Earned it?" He can hear the confusion, and it's cute enough to make him laugh.

Resting his hands on her shoulders, he carefully presses his thumbs against the nape of her neck. "Yeah. You had to put up with me an' Nero an' all of your family for the entire day. Keep it up, and I'll think you're going for sainthood."

Lir doesn't respond right away, her head dropping as he massages her skin. Then she turns and looks up at him with a shy smile. "You did pretty good too," she says. Then she licks her lips, a little gesture that sends a jolt through him, and she reaches up to undo his tie. "Let's, uh . . . let's get you comfortable, okay?"

"Right." His voice cracks, so he clears his throat and tries again. "Right. Okay. Think you're a bit more, uh . . . I mean, the dress seems . . ."

Her fingers brush his throat as she carefully undoes the knot and pulls the fabric from beneath his collar. "I'm okay," she replies quietly. "It's not the worst thing I've ever worn." Before he can ask what was, she sets to work on the buttons of his shirt; Dante can feel her hands trembling, and he covers them with his own when she reaches the third. 

"Take it easy," he murmurs. "It's just us."

Lir glances up, her cheeks turning a bit pink. "I'm just so scared I'm going to screw this up," she whispers.

Dante can't help but chuckle at that. "Don't worry, I got that covered I think." He pulls her hands away and finishes the buttons on his shirt. "I can do this. Do you need help with your dress?"

She shakes her head, watching him for a moment as he takes off his shirt before glancing away. Lir turns a bit as she reaches back to pull her zipper, and the two undress silently. Dante doesn't take his eyes from her as he takes off his belt and pulls off his shoes, breathing deeply when she lets her dress slide to the floor, leaving her in a white slip, the satin clinging to her body. He is nervous as hell but seeing Lir just as unsure has given him a weird boost of confidence, and before he removes the rest of his clothes, he reaches out and grabs her wrist. "Come here," he murmurs, tugging her gently.

Lir blinks up at him, and Dante leans in, smiling as her eyes widen when he gets closer. Slowly he wraps his arms around her, his skin warming when her palms go to his arms and gently settle against him. "We can do this," Dante says.

She exhales slowly with a nod. "Yes." Her gaze drops to his mouth, and a flush stains her cheeks as she looks away. "I know I don't . . . I mean, it might not be proper or correct, but . . . may I kiss you?"

His mind flashes to her underneath him on the couch, her thighs cradling his body, and he swallows thickly. "If that's what you want."

Like then, her hands cup his face, her thumbs smoothing carefully over his cheeks, and his heart is pounding in his chest as she goes up onto her toes to press her lips to his. It's the same tentative brush she had used the first time, like she's afraid to ask for more, that she's doing something wrong, and he holds her firmly, forcing himself to be patient. If he moves too quickly, he could scare her again, like he had when he'd torn the couch trying to keep himself under control.

His hands fist into the slip, but he holds back, letting her lead the kiss. Lir presses her lips to him twice, three times, and then Dante follows the tilt of her mouth, returning her slow kiss with soft pressure. After several moments she starts to grow bolder, and he feels her tongue flicker against his lips; they curve into a smile as he opens for her, Lir sighing into his mouth.

She hesitates again, and Dante tugs on her lower lip before moving down her jaw and to her throat. He shivers at the little catch in her breath as he leaves a trail of kisses down her neck. "You know I have . . . some things I can do . . ." she whispers.

"You do?" Dante nibbles on her shoulder, kissing along the strap of her slip.

"Yes, I was . . . I was taught how to . . ." He presses his lips under her earlobe, cutting her off as she sucks in another breath. Her fingers dig into the muscle of his arms as she tilts her head, exposing more skin to his kiss. "I'm supposed to be making you feel good," she whimpers.

"Mm, think that's supposed to go both ways," he murmurs, more than half-distracted by the softness of her throat. "Ain't fun if only one of us feels good."

"Fun?" she mumbles. She strokes him lightly, sending a shiver up his spine, and he groans and teases her pulse carefully with his teeth. "Oh," Lir breathes, the sound erotic and sweet and making him twitch. "Oh, do that again, please."

Dante complies eagerly. He kisses her neck, teasing her with his tongue as his arm slides around her waist, holding her tightly against him. The other hand moves to her hip, and slowly he walks her backwards towards the bed. "Is it okay if I touch you?" he whispers.

"Y-yes," she stutters.

He drags his palm down her thigh, and then grabs the fabric, pulling it up until he can feel her skin. They hit the edge of the bed, and Lir sits, pulling Dante down on top of her as she slides back to the center of the bed. Their eyes connect as he strokes her thigh, and she moves her touch up his arms and back down his chest, carefully tracing the outlines of his muscles.

"I wasn't lyin' earlier," he says, quietly, and her hands pause on his stomach. "I've never seen anyone prettier than you. Don't think I ever will."

He strokes the crease of her thigh as her gaze softens. Then Lir grabs his arms and tugs. "Sit up on the pillows," she says, quickly scrambling back.

Dante smiles and crawls up on the bed, flopping over with his back propped on the frilly pillows at the head of the bed. "This good?"

"Perfect." He grins as Lir straddles his lap, and then his eyes almost fall out of his head when she pulls the slip off over her head. Underneath is a lace set that is barely more than a triangle between her legs and over her breasts, and Lir reaches back to undo the bra, taking it off and tossing it onto the floor.

She settles back to sit on his hips, and Dante swallows as he takes her in. Her hands press on his stomach to steady herself, and as his gaze hovers around her chest, her nipples soft and pink against creamy skin, his own body starts to rapidly stiffen. Her kiss had already gotten his blood pumping, but his heartbeat is at full speed ahead with Lir now perched nearly naked on top of him, her hair falling over one shoulder as she chews her lip nervously.

Dante clears his throat as she shifts a bit, certain she can feel his erection inside his pants and now pressed against her backside. "I guess I should . . ." she murmurs, her fingers tracing down his stomach and towards the little trail of hair just visible above the waistband of his dress pants.

Still gathering his wits, or what little of them he's ever had, he doesn't realize what she's intending to do until the button is unfastened and the zipper eased down, and, even then, it doesn't really click until her her hand eases beneath the fabric and her touch grazes the base of his cock. Both of them freeze, and what he thinks is alarm flickers briefly across her features. "Oh," she says, then again: "Oh. You're bigger than . . ."

Lir trails off, her cheeks scarlet now, and there's another of those strange boosts to his ego, though it's dulled a bit by concern. She havin' second thoughts? "You okay?"

"Huh? Oh! Yes." She gives her head a little shake. "I'm sorry, I only. I mean, they told us—told me about the anatomy and used props to demonstrate how things could be done, but nothing was . . . as large as you are."

Dante's burst of pride is quickly dampened as she starts to stroke him, her hand exploring his length, but her expression one of confusion. "This isn't . . ." Her voice trails off, and now it's his turn to frown as she yanks down the fabric, his cock springing free as she examines him closely.

"Uh, easy there," he chuckles nervously.

But Lir only stares at him, expression deep in thought. Carefully she wraps her hand around him, and Dante bites back a groan as she slowly drags her fist up and down his length. It's pretty much the most erotic thing he's ever seen—only, really—and her beautiful face and perfect body and delicate hand now jerking him almost experimentally have him gripping the blanket beneath him tightly. Her other hand strokes his pelvis, the touch of her fingertips almost featherlight and in stark contrast to the firm grip she uses to pump up and down his length that is now aching and throbbing.

"Lir," he grunts. She stops, peering up at him from beneath her lashes, and he tries to think of a polite way to tell her that it she wants to have sex she better get a move on because he's not sure he can last with her doing that. But the words won't come, and he curses as her brows furrow.

"Was I doing it wrong?"

"What? No!" He pushes himself up onto his elbows. "Christ, no. Just, uh . . . Seems unfair that you're getting to touch me but I can't touch you."

"Oh!" She giggles, a slight blush creeping over her features. "Sorry, I was distracted."

Her smile is lovely as she leans over him, her free hand pressed to his shoulder as the other continues stroking him. Lir gazes at him sweetly, her long lashes making her look almost sultry, and the mix of innocence and sexiness makes his heart skip a beat. Dante reaches up to feel her thighs, and then slides his hands over her until he carefully covers her breasts. He can feel her nipples grow hard against his palm, and he gives her flesh a gentle squeeze, swallowing a groan at how soft she feels and how small she seems in his large hands.

She bites her lip, and he leans up to kiss the plump flesh, sucking on it softly while he cups her breasts and uses his thumbs to rub small circles over her nipples. The little noise she lets out as she arches into his touch has him panting, rocking up into her hand; nothing could have ever prepared him for the sensation of her body against his, of her skin brushing his. He feels almost drunk, and he releases one hand to drag it down her stomach, groping over her waist and hip just to feel her tremble.

Lir is still stroking him, her hand feeling like a slice of heaven, her skin so soft as it drags up and down his length. Occasionally she pauses to rub her thumb on the tip or tease the head, and Dante groans. He would love nothing more than to take hold of himself and hurry up the end his body is craving, but her touch is so sweet and sexy that he wouldn't stop her for anything. 

She moves closer, his erection now pressed against her thigh, and Dante pulls her down to kiss her eagerly. Lips and tongues slide together as his hands roam her body, and then he tilts her back so he can place a kiss to her breast, using his tongue to roll around her waiting nipple. Lir gives a little gasp that sends a shot of pleasure right through his dick, and he pulls her nipple in his mouth, wanting more. Her hands move into his hair, his cock straining for friction where it presses to her thigh, and when she lifts her hips slightly to press her chest closer to him, he feels the lace drag against the head of his cock, nearly driving him crazy.

"Dante," she murmurs, her nails scratching lightly over his scalp, and it's damn near over right then. Then she asks, shyly, "Should I . . . finish undressing?" and he goes lightheaded at just the thought of it.

"Yeah, yeah," he huffs. "You got me so worked up, angel . . ."

Lir presses a quick kiss to his lips and climbs off, and Dante stares as she stands next to the bed and shimmies out of her panties. When she turns he quickly pulls the rest of his clothes off, grabbing the base of his cock and giving it a squeeze as he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply. Keep it together. Keep it together!

Warm silk wraps around him, and with a groan he peeks an eye open. Lir is spreading lube along his length, coating him well before she straddles his hips. 

She holds his shoulders and rocks her hips, and Dante hits his head back against the pillows. He watches with widening eyes as she grips his length, and then angles it between her legs. Lir grabs onto his chest for leverage as the head of him parts her folds, and Dante wonders what to do, if he should help, when the first couple of inches enter her body, and his cock is wrapped in the most delicious tight heat he could ever have imagined.

He digs his fingers into the quilt, a faint ping of remorse making itself known when the fabric starts to rip. But it's easy enough to ignore that when the alternatives are either losing control or hurting her or both, and he does his damndest to keep himself still while she works. His thoughts jumble together the more of him she takes: christ she's so small is it gonna fit is she okay oh fuck oh fuck fuck fuck.

"Dante . . ." she whines, bringing him back from his own overwhelming thoughts. "Dante, I can't . . ."

He sits up, wrapping his arms around her waist, and kisses her. Lir freezes in his hold, her hands on his shoulders, and Dante kisses her as passionately as he knows how, ignoring the insistent throbbing of his cock. He rubs her back in slow circles until after a minute, she begins to relax, sinking further onto him.

"Lir," he groans, pressing his face to her neck. She starts to rock her hips, easing him in and out of her body, but still far from taking him completely inside her own; but it doesn't matter, the movements still erotic and incredible, her sex squeezing him tightly. He remembers the spot below her ear that had her trembling earlier, so he lavishes her skin with his teeth and tongue, letting Lir work at a pace that is comfortable for her but nearly torturous for him.

He's so caught up in keeping her comfortable that he doesn't realize how dangerously close he's getting until his sac starts to tighten, and he pulls from her skin with a stuttered groan, grabbing at her hips even as ecstasy starts to overflow. She lets out a startled noise as his seed fills her in pulses that mimic his hammering heart, going still with her hands braced on his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin with her surprise.

Dante can't take it anymore and he thrusts upwards, another pulsing wave of pure bliss wracking his body, the friction silky as he slowly rocks up and down. He falls back on the pillows as he catches his breath, staring at the ceiling as it finally begins to fade, Lir a comfortable weight on his lap.

Sleep is already tugging at him when she carefully climbs off of him, and he tugs her down next to him with a yawn that makes his jaw crack. Belatedly, he realizes that she probably hadn't gotten off—not that he'd noticed—but her hand is drawing lazy, soothing circles on his chest that only serve to lull him deeper into slumber, and his last bit of awareness is focused on the soft brush of her lips over his shoulder.

#dmc #devil may cry #dante sparda #lirael thorne #lir #dante/lir #dante/oc #dante x oc #dmc oc #dmc fanfic #dmc fanfiction #fanfiction #writing #story #myfic #collab #promise me forever #pmf

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i am very much enjoying my vague void! it's currently blasting hozier at full volume and that's almost louder than my internal screaming (don't worry, everything is fine, i just saw a spider)

i've never once in my life have followed a recipe correctly. all of my measurements are completely random and whatever happens happens. it is no longer in my hands. whatever eldritch entities exist take the wheel. and i absolutely refuse to spell anything in english without autocorrect because y'all have way too many double letters and random vowel placement

thank you! sadly, i won't have a break right now, because we just had christmas vacations, but the start of the new semester is always pretty chill. and you're absolutely right, i should take up necromancy! the snow and the cold will add to my mysterious vibes. i just need to get a big black cape with a hood to complete the aesthetic

i definitely picture everything above 5'6 feet as the same height. 5'7 and 6'2? the exact same thing. no difference here

how is morepork a real bird name. it's just... more pork? but the bird is magnificent. i completely approve of your first order as bird queen, not that you need approval from mere peasants like me, but it's a great order. ohhh salps look really cool, and it does look a lot like it! when you said boob implant i thought of mermaids and them using salps as boob implants but then i realised wait wouldn't jellyfish be better for that? because of their shape? ignoring their little leggies they're quite boob shaped, no? and then i realised that i was thinking about mermaids and alive boob implants... if i had to think it, you have to read it. i'm sorry

i was sold before but now i'm even more sure that i want to hire you. and I'll make sure to have lactose free cheese for the backflips (unless you want the lactose version? i'm not judging). will the biting of ankles cost extra?

that sounds like a brilliant set-up for a horror movie where they kill off all the children one by one. it's absolutely horrifying. if something like that would've happened to me i would've most likely just passed out. whatever happens afterwards is not my problem. and now i really don't want to know what the hell your leg was caught on because that seems like knowledge that would get me killed

ah so you're a fellow dirt eater? according to my mom my favourite thing to do outside when i was a little kid used to be eating sand. just shovelling handfuls of it into my mouth and crying when my mom made me spit it out. which i refuse to believe. if there are no photos it didn't happen

you warm climate people are starting to make me think that i'm better adjusted to the cold than i thought i am! it's either that or our buildings are better heated. i definitely don't know if anyone else calls hot water bottled hotties but i like it so from now on i'm using it

that's so cute! i was clearly a way more selfish child because when i found any amount of money i just kept it and bought candy as soon as i could. i clearly couldn't save money then and i can't now. we have stores like that (or i'm assuming that they're like that solely based on how they sell lollies) and they used to be my favourite thing because you could get so many lollies for such a small price!! and my mom even used to let me order for myself sometimes so i always felt like a very big girl jsjshsbsjk

also the fact that i can't send pictures on anon is a crime (yes i know why and it's good that that's not possible because can you imagine anons being able to send pictures? oh no is all i have to say about it) but anyways. because i have this one super cursed photo that reminded me of you and now i can't share it :((

duuuuude, sick void bro. sounds like a vibing void. I feel like I haven’t seen a spider in awhile. Other than daddy long legs. But they’re chill. They mind their own business. 

I nearly always follow recipes exactly. My mum is like oh cook this for about 7 minutes? Yeah sure. I’ll take a wild guess. I’m like they say exactly 7 minutes so I’ll set a timer for 7 minutes and start a stopwatch so if it does seem to need more than 7 I can keep an eye on the extra time and be aware of exactly how long it takes me for next time. Other people are like oh let's see I have [lists 5-10 things in their fridge], hmm...oh I know what I could make with that! I’m like I have beans in my freezer because one recipe required them and no other recipes I know how to make do so what am I supposed to do with these now,,, this is stressful,,, basically I barely know how to cook and recipes are the only things saving me in that area. That is entirely fair. Except for the fuck duck, and murder is not the word you want surely, situations, it’s pretty helpful.

Ohhh I see. At least the start is chill! For a little! Before your entire situation spirals out of hand and you’re behind in every class and it’s taken you a whole day to read 10 pages and you’re exhausted and it’s only week 2. Just me? ok. fair. anyway. I want a cloak so bad. One of my uni friends tempted me to class because she said she was wearing a cloak so my depressed ass honest to god dragged myself out of bed and to said class just to see it. It was worth it. They’re incredible. Everyone should own a big cloak for the aesthetic.

I’m glad it isn’t just me hahaha. I can visualise my own height in feet but everything else is just the same size that is a vague amount taller than me, mentally.

It’s also known as the ruru. But the name morepork amuses me. It’s named after the call it makes haha. It does sound like it’s asking for more pork if you know to listen for that. thank u for ur approval, it means a lot, turns out becoming bird queen didn’t ACTUALLY get rid of my anxiety disorder weirdly enough so validation is great! lmaooo. What if the jellyfish stung them tho? At least salps wouldn’t do you dirty like that. The mermaids would just look like there are hundreds of bugs crawling around in their boobs, flesh shifting as they float around. Which is a vibe. If you’re into that. Jellyfish WOULD make a more solid, single, implant, some of them are definitely boob shaped. But that’s kinda boring no one’s gonna be traumatised by that. Salps on the other hand...yeah, that sight will DEFINITELY traumatise someone.

To be PERFECTLY honest I haven’t done a backflip in years but for lactose-free cheese? Dude. I’ll be going back to training. Gonna be the best backflip you’ve ever seen. As long as it’s not Tasty cheese I am content, but lactose free IS better. The biting of ankles will not cost extra, it is a pleasure to be allowed to do that.

Oh it absolutely would be. It’d be very funny if it reached the wider world bc people would probably be like ok but who would send kids into the bush like that,, it’s an odd concept. meanwhile everyone who grew up in nz is gonna be like y’all, you’re not gonna fuckin BELIEVE what i experienced growing up, it’s real dude. On one hand, I feel like murdering kids in a movie is questionable, on the other hand, It exists, so maybe people would be down for it. I feel like it’d be a good concept even if it wasn’t murdery tho. Like psychological horror? I’m not sure if I’m using that category correctly I don’t watch much horror. A kid following the rope but then being shifted into a different horror dimension but they never take the blindfold off because their teachers said not to and they’d probably have to let go of the rope to do it...I feel like this could work super well as a short film. The viewers see everything. The child just knows something is off and no one is coming when they call for help. I am so down for this. I also do not want to know what my leg was caught on. Some things I am better off not knowing.

yes! I am a fellow dirt eater! We had a sandpit at home (that’s a little bold. It was a large plastic shell that my parents filled with sand. technically a sandpit. but not fancy sdflsdkfsdf) but I don’t think I ever tried to eat it. Then again, I possibly did and just don’t remember because there’s no photo evidence of that one. I’d have to ask my parents sdfhsjdfs, I would however fully believe them if they said yes. it’s very characteristic of me. I don’t doubt it for a second. muuuum that’s my emotional support sand don’t make me spit it out smh the disrespect these days.

Oh I’m absolutely terrible even by most people’s standards around here when it comes to cold and hot temperatures. I remember sitting in the sun in my school shirt and school jersey in summer on a blazing day like it’s a bit chilly, isn’t it? Meanwhile my friends were in the shade absolutely dying from the heat. Likewise in winter I’d be shivering, teeth chattering, dying with my long sleeve thermal, my school shirt, my school jersey, my school jacket, my longs, warm socks and sneakers and gloves and school scarf while ppl would be walking around in a shirt and shorts like it’s a bit warm this winter huh? my body didn’t learn how to thermoregulate and it shows. But yeah NZ does also have a reputation for shittily insulated buildings and such. It shows. skhdfsfs if it’s not common use maybe don’t say can i have a hotty to someone without context but otherwise go ahead lmao. it’s a fun shortened version.

I was typically a very good saver, to the point where my extended family started gifting me gift cards and vouchers for Christmas and my birthday because if they just gave me money I’d put it in my bank account to save towards uni once I hit like, 12 years old. Which I think was a smart move. But apparently, I’m supposed to buy myself ‘something nice’ with it. I think I’m still an okay saver but I’m not as strict anymore. I’m aware of how much I can spare and I’m not just like you can never get anything for yourself ever, so I do get lil things for myself sometimes. oooo yay! At least you know what I mean. But yes. They were the gold mine for lollies. Absolutely terrific stores. My mum would be like hey lindsey how about you order? And I’d be like mother, I am 7 years old and I have an undiagnosed anxiety disorder everyone assumes is child shyness why would you think I would want to do that. Instead I will whisper my choices to you. After therapy tho I felt pretty rad for picking my own lollies by myself. I was like 13 at that point but sdfkjhsdf listen I got there in the end.

sdfkjsdfkjhsdf I like that a cursed photo reminded you of me. That’s all I need to hear. Tumblr said no anon dick pics but they also said no anon cursed photos either,,, very sad. for the latter part. the first part thank god. If I could turn on photos on anon I absolutely would just to see this but I don’t think I can :(

#tasty cheese is nasty and i will die on this hill #i'm not sure if other countries have like the same main cheeses or if it differs everywhere #tasty. colby. and edam are the main three i think of #i know there's like mild or some shit but i know only the blue yellow and red packets #either or a wasp or a bee just flew in my room but it flew out so i'll respect that #my plans for today were reply to your ask and that's it #what am i supposed to do for the next twelve hours #oh wait i know #m u r d e r............ #Anonymous

[delirious-comfort]

I promise you I wouldn't go 0 to 100 with you with those kinds of questions. Weirder than that? I'm starting to grow concerned for you if you draw in such.. colorful personalities like that.

You sound like a terrible influence, and I fully support that (because, same).

Oh gosh. I'm sorry you were bullied. Kids/teenagers can be brutal. I always thank my lucky stars that I went to schools with nicer kids. I was later told no one would ever mess with me because I looked like I knew how to fight - which I attribute to my rbf. I obviously don't know you all that well personally, but you seem perfectly delightful to me so it's hard to picture you being a handful.

Howard the Duck! I think I hated it as a kid. My dad really wasn't careful with the movies he rented for me. My sister didn't tell me it was awful, so I never added The Meg to my list.

Hmm, can't relate. I'm not that into muscles, so The Rock isn't my cup of tea, and I do fancy the gents as well (though not as much as the ladies, despite what my dating history would suggest). Watch a movie that prominently features a pretty lady (that kicks ass), and the identity crisis may be averted for a while. Sorry to hear that. Is there a way to put some happiness back in you?

Music. Oh jeez. I could rattle off what I like all day, but I'll refrain. Some of my favorites: St. Vincent, Sevdaliza, Allie X, Lisa Hannigan, Beirut, James Blake, Chet Faker, Leon Bridges. And so on.. What about you?

A little. I'm very over 2020. I shan't miss it, but I'm not an optimist by nature, so I'm not all that thrilled about 2021. Are you?

I would need more details. 1. Would I have books/music? 2. Do I get to leave the cottage? 3. Do I have to bring someone with me? And if so, how small is this cottage? If the answer is yes and tiny, I'm leaning towards no. 150k isn't enough to put myself through that. I need a lot of alone time - though exceptions do apply from time to time. I don't currently like anyone enough to share a space with them for a whole year. Same question goes to you, though. Would you do that for $150,000?

Ooh, we’ve entered scrolling era on the computer! I now need to scroll to see what you wrote! Exciting things. *claps*. Back when I wrote Shadow Haven I used to get a lot of anons because they thought I was super into answering questions like, “How often do you masturbate / Do you masturbate to fic / What is your favorite thing to masturbate to / You made me come twice with this chapter!” Okay, that last one isn’t a question, but definitely have been told that a few times. Although my all time favorite comment I’ve ever gotten was from this young girl who said she almost reached an orgasm for the first time but the fic wasn’t long enough xD Hm, bullying is a thread throughout my life. But yeah some kids can be absolutely brutal. Adults too. But that’s a sob story for another time lol. RBF is one of my favorite things. I’m glad you didn’t experience that in school, though. I don’t know if I’m all that delightful. I think I’m nice? That’s something lol. I’ve never seen Howard the Duck to be honest. The only Duck I know is Donald. Oh want to hear a funny story about a duck? One day when I was young, back in the olden days, in the 90′s... My brother came home with a duck once. He said it was injured and he put it in the shed. I do think it really was injured but I have no idea what was wrong with it. We had this iron tub in the shed that we put water in and within a couple of days he had shat all over the shed. But we kept him for quite some time I think, although I was young so it was probably like two weeks that felt like two years. Anyway, the duck got better. We named him Donald and then we put him back out in the pond near our house where he came from. You’d think that’s where the story ends. But tis not. So one day not too long after we released him back into the pond... They started to drain the pond because, well actually I don’t know why. My brother said it was because there was one of those electric eels that they needed to get out of the pond, which made us all scared to swim in and I’m just now realizing he probably lied about that. Dick. Anyway, big digging machine came, and I went to walk the dog and on top of the claw of the digging machine was a dead duck. Our dead duck. Which I could see from far away. Uhm. Okay so maybe it wasn’t our duck. But as a child I was fucking convinced it was. I sobbed and told my mom he had been killed. And she was just like, “Well, he had a good time with us, didn’t he!’ I was and perhaps am at times a bit... how shall I put this gently... over dramatic. Sensitive. A drama queen. I freely admit it. I don’t actually know a lot of those artists but I’m listening to Sevdaliza’s Human and uhm. I bet it’s a on a lot of x-rated playlists. Yeah I’m with you on the 2020/2021 feeling. I don’t even want to say it can only get better from here on out because was I ever wrong before!  This song is a bop. I like it. Goes straight on my current obsessions playlist. Okay, cottage details. I asked because it’s always one of those Facebook posts I see, but here’s some details.  Fuck. Details. Okay. I got this. Yes, you can bring books. And movies. And there’s a TV and a radio and a computer. Just no internet. I don’t know why. But there’s not. FB rules. Not mine. I’d need internet.  I’m suddenly getting a one-shot through into my thick skull. As if I am gonna write it. Ha.  You can leave the cottage whenever you want. You’re free to roam. Not a prisoner. Hm, it’s not so small that you can’t live comfortable in it, lets say at least two bedrooms, although my inner muse wants to scream, “And there was only one bed,” so hard. So original.  I suppose you don’t have to bring someone.  I think I could do it but I don’t know how beneficial it would be to my mental health. I already live alone, I have a tiny studio, and I hardly ever leave due to my health issues I’ve had this year. Although, on Fridays I get to go outside with my physical therapist and I am very much looking forward to that. Internet is very much my whole world right now. So I think if it would be taken away I would either thrive, or nose dive.  If I had to share the space with someone, I don’t know if I could do it. Depends on who it is, I suppose. Like, I love my mom to death, but her and I would kill each other within a week probably.  God this is a lot of blabbing. Oop.  Also I just saw the terrible influence thing. Yes, yes I am. I used to make my niece do tiktok’s to prank my brother but one day he got super mad. But too be fair I did have her pretend she stapled her fingers together with a staple gun. So you know. I had it coming.  You’d think all this typing would warm up my fingers, but my fingers are ice cold. Okay, here’s a question. What is your dream holiday destination? 

#Anonymous

[starker-stories]

An Accord (WIS), Chapter 10

Okay, let's try this again.

I posted this chapter Friday, like it was supposed to be, and then found an absolutely massive amount of serious mistakes. So I deleted it and spent the day fixing them.

So here's Chapter 10, take 2...

This fic is on a weekly update schedule. Every Friday.

Tumblr Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13 AO3 Chapter Links: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7, ch8, ch9, ch10, ch11, ch12, ch13

Tags: Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamory, Cheating, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Domestic Nightmare Tony Stark, Reconciliation, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, WinterIronSpider, Happy Ending, Clothed Sex, Domesticity, Peter Parker is legal age in the state of New York, College Student Peter Parker, Takes place about 2 years after Civil War. Closeted Character

Summary: “My boyfriends are super-villains,” Peter said giggling. “I’m the only pure innocent one in this place.”  ——————————————————————————————

Chapter 10: Brooklyn

“I hate being the only person in this house that gets hungry,” Peter said, breaking their post-kiss snuggling session.

Bucky laughed. “I’ll cook.”

“Menus. By. The fridge. I am not waiting for one of Pretty’s delicious, but time consuming, Depression meals.”

Bucky climbed out of bed and started pulling his shirt on.

Tony shrugged. “If you want,” he said, climbing out of bed and not bothering to put his clothes back on. Bucky didn’t either.

Peter pulled his jeans on. “Not all of us are exhibitionists, Tony.”

“My body is a fuckin’ gift and you are blessed to see it,” he answered as he headed to the kitchen. To get the menus.

Bucky raced past him for the bedroom door, poking him in the stomach as he passed. “My body is a fuckin’ gift. You need to work out with me.”

“I’m going on fifty,” Tony defended.

“I’m in my second century. I’m cooking. I can only eat so much Asian food and pizza in a month.”

“Don’t let the teenager order dinner. He refuses to let any restaurant that doesn’t normally deliver make an exception for the billionaire in the house.”

“It’s not fair,” Peter argued, speeding past both of them using his spider abilities. He settled on the kitchen stool, waiting to see who would get to the kitchen next: Tony to the menu drawer or Bucky to the stove.

“You are depriving whatever poor waiter Molly sticks with bringing me dinner of a ridiculously huge tip,” Tony said, tossing the menu for Marea on the counter. “Touch that stove, Bucky, and I swear…”

Bucky picked up the menu. “So what’s Molly’s Place have to offer?”

Tony sputtered. “I’d tell Michael what you said, but I value my permanent reservation at his restaurant too much. It’s Marea and it’s the best restaurant in the city.”

Bucky looked at the menu. “Billionaire, right?” he asked, grinning.

“Leave me a few pennies in the bank account,” Tony said.

“Il branzino, il caulini e l'antipasto, il di manzo.”

Tony’s eyebrows headed for the ceiling.

“I’m fluent in Italian, Spanish, Catalan, French, German, Finnish, Hungarian, Romanian, Czech, Serbian, Russian, Chechen, Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, and Arabic. Oh yeah, and English. All accentless except for English. Now that I’m me again, I can’t get the Brooklyn out of it.”

Tony hooked his arm around Bucky’s neck and kissed him. “I can live with the Brooklyn,” he said, happy that Bucky wouldn’t ever speak unaccented English again.

“And I was impressed by your Italian, French, Spanish, Russian, and Chinese!” Peter said.

Bucky shrugged. “He wasn’t involved in the overthrow of as many governments as I was.”

Peter burst out laughing, then caught himself. “I shouldn’t find that funny, huh?”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, Pete. It’s fuckin’ hilarious.” He winked at Bucky. “Maybe not as many, but it’s a non-zero number.”

“You’re both awful!” Peter said, a smile still on his lips. “Wait. You didn’t,” he asked Tony, more seriously.

“Sometimes privatizing world peace is a less than honorable pursuit. And do you think the same people are running Afghanistan as were before my visit there? Not an official government on that one, but it counts.”

“Sorry. That mess was my fault,” Bucky said sheepishly.

“I’m sure he did a lot for Russia there, Pretty, but not arm the damn Taliban. That would be Howard and then me after your dead twin brother put me in charge. So yeah, Pretty,” Tony smiled, “a non-zero number.”

“My boyfriends are super-villains,” Peter said giggling. “I’m the only pure innocent one in this place.”

“Why do you think we keep you around,” Tony said.

 “That’s why we keep you around,” Bucky said, almost in unison. They high-fived. And found their hands stuck together with webs.

“Where did you…” Tony said in shock.

Peter chuckled. “Bucky… how many guns do you have hidden in the penthouse?”

“A… lot,” Bucky said sheepishly.

“Tony,” Peter said in a sing-song. “How many of those bracelet thingys do you have laying around in case the micro-repeaters stop working?”

“Um… like he said.”

“Do you think I only have two webshooters?” Peter laughed.

“Get us out of this,” Tony said, irritatedly. “I have to call and order dinner.”

“I can do it.” Peter picked up a phone.

“I am not going to listen to you mangle the Italian language, kid. Get your super-villain boyfriends out of this. Or we’ll kidnap you and take you to our secret lair.”

“Wait,” Bucky said, “that sounds like fun.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Tony grinned.

“Yeah. It does,” Peter chimed in. “When I’m not fuckin’ starving! Karen, hit them with the dissolving fluid.” He aimed his hand at Bucky and Tony’s joined wrists.

Tony’s left eyebrow questioned him.

“Tony… of course I can move Karen to my webshooters like you move FRIDAY to your glasses. If you want your proprietary tech to stay proprietary, stop letting FRIDAY do everything for you.”

“He’s…?” Bucky started, incredulously.

“A genius? Yeah. Gonna put me out of a job. Give me the goddamn phone.”

“Nope,” Bucky made a grab for it. “I am not gonna listen to you mangle the Italian language.”

Which led to a string of cursing in said language as Peter facepalmed. “I am never going to eat.”

~~~~~

“That wasn’t Italian,” Bucky said as they finished dinner.

“Of course it was. I mean I am fond of Gargulio’s for old times sake, but Marea’s better.”

“Not the food,” Bucky said, making a dive for the last of the desert.

Tony laughed. “Not exactly Italian. But you didn’t speak it when you went to Gargulio’s did you?”

“Italian? Fuck, I could maybe manage proper English.”

“You would’ve heard the difference. It’s Napoletano. Like your English can’t lose Brooklyn? My Italian can’t lose Naples because I learned it from my mom.”

“She was actually from Italy?” Bucky said, still hesitant to bring up the subject.

Tony nodded. “She came here to go to university. An unexpected me put an end to it.”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said quietly, looking down.

“Why? Did you kill her?” Tony asked.

“Yeah.”

“You gotta stop taking credit for his bullshit, Pretty.” Tony reached out and brushed Bucky’s hair back then lifted his chin, turning his face to him. “When those words were said, were you you?”

“I did it.”

“Not what I asked. Before 1945, would you have done that?”

“Never.”

“You didn’t kill her, Bucky.”

Tears welled in Bucky’s eyes. His jaw clenched as he tried to keep them back. Tony ran the backs of his knuckles lightly across his temple and his tears fell.

Tony scooted his chair next to Bucky’s. “You didn’t kill her.” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the side of Bucky’s head. He closed his eyes and his own tears silently fell.

Peter watched the moment pass between them. Tony’s mom’s death was something that had weighed heavily on him his whole life. He was finally getting closure. How could he be jealous of that? They needed each other right then. Peter stood and both men looked at him. He walked around the table and put kisses on top of, first Tony’s, then Bucky’s heads. “Take Bucky to bed,” he said tenderly. “I’m gonna go study.”

“Baby,” Tony said, looking up. He pinched the bridge of his nose after sliding his fingers over his eyes to wipe the tears. “Do you mind?” he asked Peter quietly.

“Not even a little,” Peter said. “Take him to bed.” He paused and brushed his fingers through Bucky’s hair.

~~~~~

“C’mere, Pretty,” Tony said. Their tearful moment past, he felt playful. He turned Bucky and pushed his back gently against the closed door. He draped his arms around Bucky’s neck and chuckled. “Peter’s shorter than me.”

Bucky stood straighter.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine!” He pulled himself up on Bucky’s shoulders, stood on tiptoes, and kissed him.

“Not used to taller guys?” Bucky grinned.

“Not in awhile, no.”

“Problem?”

“You’re shorter than me laying down, Pretty,” Tony said with a smirk, standing flat on his feet. He dropped his voice to a whispered purr. “And when I’m on top of you.”

“Fuck,” Bucky said on a long breath.

“Problem?” Tony asked as he grabbed Bucky’s hands and led him to the bed. They rolled facing each other, Tony on his left side, Bucky on his right.

“I’m used to being the most charming, smug, and seductive one in the bedroom, that’s all,” Bucky said laughing.

Tony kissed the laugh off his lips. He brushed Bucky’s hair back. “I love that sound, Pretty.”

Bucky ducked his head, resting his forehead on Tony’s chest. Who was taller than him laying down. “You asked me something when we were all talking earlier.” He put a light kiss on the square inch of skin underneath his lips.

“Hmm? And?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I know, baby,” Tony said tenderly. He’d watched it happen, Bucky slowly fall in love. When he settled into it, it made Tony realize his own love. Feeling actual love for anyone was new, brought out by Peter. Feeling love for Bucky, just as deep but different and needing both, was entirely outside of his experience.

“Will Peter mind?”

“I’m pretty sure Peter already knows. He’s just scared because he’s younger.”

“You’re younger than me.”

“I mean, being an adult. He’s not, but he’s more than just a kid. I kinda toss an extra five years or so on him from the shit he’s been through.”

“About the same age I enlisted,” Bucky nodded. “That’s about how he feels.” He paused. “I love him, too.”

“I know that. And both of us love you. Not just because you give great head.”

“Tony,” he said in mock complaint.

“Most seductive and tallest,” he said, tilting Bucky’s face up for a kiss.

Bucky laughed. “And I thought you were tickling Peter when I heard you two laughi… Oh fuck… He can hear us!”

“Not yet, but I’m gonna fix that,” Tony purred. He ran his palm slowly down Bucky’s chest until he reached his waist. He stopped briefly at the button of his jeans before unfastening it.

It took some entirely unseductive wiggling around before they were both naked and in each other’s arms again. Bucky’s kisses were biting and hot. Tony’s were possessive and deep. Their hands clutched and pulled. It was very much closer, tighter, harder, now!

“I know you like riding me,” Tony said, struggling to catch his breath. “Do you like it on your back?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Bucky said, rather flatly.

“Not what I asked.” Tony rolled himself on top of Bucky. He reached his arms under Bucky’s shoulders and slid himself up along the man’s body. “Baby, that’s something you gotta get used to with me.”

“You talk too fuckin’ much during sex?”

“Okay, that’s two things you gotta get used to with me.”

“The leftovers of your fuckin’ Long Island accent make three?” Bucky grinned and bit again.

“All right, Brooklyn. Since you aren’t objecting…”

Tony found the lube under the pillow he always put it under and kissed Bucky through the awkwardness of doing so. One-handed he managed to squeeze enough of a dollop onto his hand to reach between them and stroke Bucky’s cock. He didn’t play, but directly went for things he’d discovered by rubbing him through his pants.

“Fuck,” Bucky panted, eyes wide at how fast he’d gotten so far.

Tony rubbed precome and lube over the head of Bucky’s cock. “Oh baby, that is… Fuck me, you’re gorgeous when you’re getting gone.”

“Getting? You’re gonna make me come.”

“I’m not gonna make you come before I’m ready to.” Tony took his hand off of Bucky’s cock, reached beneath his balls and slid his still-slick hand between his cheeks. The tip of his forefinger circled his rim and Bucky pushed down against it.

“Greedy,” Tony said, nipping his lip.

With only slightly less finesse than he’d done before — dammit! he and Peter were going to have to compare notes! — Tony coated his finger with lube and worked it inside of Bucky. “I’m not your fuckin’ child bride, Tony.”

“Ya ever think that I wanna do this because I…” Tony slipped another finger inside, “…like watching you?” He spread his fingers apart and slid his third in between them. “Fuck…” Tony moaned, watching the way Bucky moved when his fingers pressed up.

“What?” Bucky asked before he lost the ability to speak. From where he was lying… gasping… writhing… groaning… Tony wasn’t getting anything out of it.

“That, Pretty. That’s what I want. If I just want to get off, I can do that on my own.” Tony slid down a little which let his fingers push in deeper. They made Bucky gasp again. “This…” Tony breathed over his nipple before touching the tip of his tongue to it. Bucky’s breath caught. “…I only get with you.”

“From another person, you mean.”

Tony combined the movement of his fingers and the slow, wet drag of his lips across Bucky’s nipple. Bucky tried to move away from the overstimulation, but was held by Tony’s other hand on his shoulder. He could break free, easily, but he didn’t.

“I meant what I said, Bucky.” He dragged his open mouth down Bucky’s abs. The other man rolled his body up to meet his mouth. Kissing up the center of his body from his navel, Tony’s tongue swirled around the divot of his collarbone,

Bucky nearly came off the bed when Tony entered him. His back arched and Tony’s hands pulled him down, deeper onto his cock. He only thought about it after he’d cried out, but there was no way Peter didn’t hear that.

Tony pulled back with a long slow drag until he was almost entirely out of Bucky. Tony snapped his hips upward as he pushed hard and deep inside. Both hands on either side of Bucky’s head, his fingers tangled in his hair. He kissed him again, slow and soft, His thrusts were slow and long. He leaned up and whispered in Bucky’s ear. “I wanna learn you, Bucky.”

Bucky’s whimpers were nothing like Peter’s. Those were high, desperate, and pleading. Bucky’s broke into little short breaths, low and rising only at the very end. They started out demanding but Tony made them fall into begging.

Bucky groaned, his body broke out in a fine sweat, as Tony was managing to drive him fucking nuts with the way his thick cock scraped just the right way inside of him. Enough to get him hot but nothing more. Enough to make him need.

“Oh god!” Bucky cried out when Tony stopped playing and started fucking him hard. Not fast, but hard. He hadn’t realized that the two things could be separated. Bucky pushed down onto Tony’s cock. “Oh fuck Tony!” I didn’t…” His words were unintelligible. Broken on a rising moan. “That… could…” His attempt to make sense was lost to a loud cry. His cock dripped precome onto his belly.

“Around my waist now, baby,” Tony crooned and Bucky hooked his ankles across each other on Tony’s back. Tony stretched himself out over the taller man, pulling himself deeper as he slid up. Bucky’s heels dug in.

“Oh fuck, Pretty,” Tony moaned, his dark eyelashes fluttering. He snapped his hips sharply, seeking the depth that the new angle gave him. Tony reached up over Bucky’s right shoulder, and threaded his fingers into his long hair, holding his arm still, unable to move. But he said, “Hold me, baby.”

“Tony, no. I can hurt you.” Bucky realized that Tony meant for him to hold with his left arm.

He thrust in hard again. “Hold me, Bucky.” He kept Bucky’s right arm pinned with his elbow on the mattress under his arm, and Tony reaching up still into his hair.

Hesitantly, Bucky wrapped his left arm around Tony’s chest.

Tony kept a regular rhythm, deep and hard but not fast. He ached to go faster. Being inside Bucky was nothing like Peter. He knew Bucky could take it rougher. His body was used to responding to rougher. Tony hated knowing how that adaptation came about. He wasn’t going to blend himself into the body-memory that Bucky had of those times. So no matter how much his Pretty’s responses made him want to go faster, he stayed slow.

“Please…” Bucky moaned on a broken breath.

“Please what baby?”

“Faster. Please.”

“Mm hmm,” Tony purred as he dragged his lips, wet, open mouthed, across the stubble on Bucky’s sharply defined jaw. He went no faster.

“Tony,” Bucky drew out the name on a moan low in his throat.

“Mm hmm?” His thrusts were shallow, deep, and kept Bucky filled. The hand in Bucky’s hair lifted his head to where he could kiss him. It was Tony who bit, held Bucky’s lip in his teeth, and sucked. He nipped sharply and let go. As he did, the snap of his hips finally went faster. Tony felt the fingers of Bucky’s left hand dig into the muscle on his side. Then he heard the faint electromechanical whir of his arm’s strength being pulled back even as the man groaned, distracted with the pleasure of finally being fucked faster.

He released his hold on Bucky’s right arm and moved the man’s hand between them. He waited until Bucky wrapped it around his cock before he sucked his earlobe into his mouth. “Not yet,” he whispered.

Bucky’s eyes opened and he was about to say something when he saw Tony’s smirk. “Oh, fuck you,” he groaned.

Tony laughed softly. His words stuttered. “You can do it now… make yourself come… whenever you want. Or you can wait…” Tony’s smirk returned. “Gets better. Your… choice.”

“Fuckin’ hate you.” The whining moan Bucky made when Tony scraped his teeth along his neck and bit where it curved into his shoulder, proved his words a lie.

Bucky took his hand off of his cock entirely and out from between their bodies. He put it flat on the bed. “Now you have a lot to live up to,” Bucky said, Tony’s smirk transferring to his face.

Tony leaned back more on his knees and balanced his left arm near Bucky’s waist. “Gimme that hand,” he said, reaching behind himself, floundering around for Bucky’s left hand. He leaned forward, holding it by the wrist once he had it. He growled in Bucky’s ear. “I love you.”

Tony leaned back, pulling Bucky’s ass onto his haunches. When he rose up with his thighs, he fucked hard and deep. One hand was on his waist, urging him down to meet him. Bucky started pushing down to do that. Bucky was hot around him, the rocking movement and the man’s eagerness making him clench around Tony’s cock. Tony was groaning in pleasure, letting the powerful sensations distract him from the fear of what he was going to do. He took Bucky’s left hand and put it, flat palmed, on the center of his chest. The first test had been for Bucky. This one was for him. He was more deeply in love with Bucky than he wanted to admit. And Tony couldn’t love, not really love, without trust.

Bucky’s eyes went wide. He was going to object, but when he looked up at him; he saw Tony’s eyes tightly close. He watched as Tony pulled his lips into his mouth and bit them shut. He saw the wince of remembered pain and fear. He saw the struggle on the man’s face as the present warred with the past. He watched the two fight to reconcile. But Tony never moved Bucky’s hand away from the most vulnerable part of his body.

The man he’d betrayed so deeply, giving him that level of trust was unbelievable. “Oh Tony,” Bucky breathed out, overcome. He ground himself down on Tony’s cock, needing to be closer, and was rewarded with the man increasing his pace, pounding into him hard, but without anger or wanting to cause anything but pleasure. Bucky fell into babbling when Tony was at the height of his thrust and, more often than not, managed to hit his prostate. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck…”

Tony kept his eyes closed as his hand held the back of Bucky’s hand. Instead of the metal fingers curling around the edges of the arc reactor, trying to hurt him, Bucky touched with nothing but the flat of his palm. He moaned, raised himself up and held in deep, feeling Bucky surrounding him. Tony’s fear finally broke and he let go of Bucky’s hand.

He listened to Bucky panting, fast and shallow — catching, holding, shuddering, letting go. Small deep groans that ended on another caught breath. Bucky’s legs dropped from around his waist and he pushed up with his feet on the mattress, adding his force that of Tony’s as they fucked. Tony pushed himself deeper, ground their hips together, filling Bucky with his entire length. He opened his eyes and looked down.

“Oh Pretty,” he moaned at the sight.

Tony lost himself in those blue eyes, dark with desire, eyelashes fluttering until his eyes closed. Bucky’s lips parted with his ragged breathing — full and swollen, flushed bright pink, wet and shining.

Bucky’s scream was low and loud. His eyes flew open as, untouched, his orgasm tore through him.

“That’s it, Bucky. Come for me, baby. Oh god… oh fuck!”

Tony groaned as his breath held. Both breath and release escaped at the same time. As he shuddered as he came and fell atop Bucky. He draped his arms over his shoulders, under his neck, and held on as the quakes passed through him.

Bucky wrapped his arms around Tony’s chest. They held each other as gasps settled into slow panting and then as their breaths evened out. Yet once they had, they still didn’t let go.

Tony took Bucky’s face in both his hands and kissed him tenderly. He saw the wetness on Bucky’s cheeks and felt it on his own. “You are in control of you, Bucky.” He kissed him again. “You did not kill my mom,” he said quietly

“How did you know I wouldn’t…” He looked down the space between them at Tony’s chest.

“I just knew,” Tony said, brushing the long, sweat damp strands from Bucky’s face.

“I could’ve killed you.”

“Uh huh.” He paused for another kiss. “So can Peter. But, Bucky, look,” Tony said, rolling onto his side. He took Bucky’s left hand and pressed his fingertips onto his side where he had grabbed him while they were fucking. “Are there any bruises?”

“No, but I didn’t try to hold you hard.”

“Yeah, you did. You didn’t hear it. You were too focused on something else,” he said with an over-confident smile. “But I heard it. I heard you pull it back. The way I can feel Peter doing the same thing.”

“I’ve torn the shit out of beds before. I could’ve hurt you.”

“And Peter breaks headboards and walls and shreds my sheets,” Tony said with a shrug.

“You’re crazy.”

Tony chuckled. “Maybe. I just have a fetish for guys who can break me into little pieces — and don’t.” Definitely a fetish. Definitely a power rush of truly epic proportions.

“You made me come even after I stopped touching myself,” Bucky said smiling.

“He does that,” Peter said, coming into the bedroom. “A lot.”

“You give me too much credit, babe,” Tony said smiling as he noticed that Peter was carrying his clothes instead of wearing them.

“I have a feeling he doesn’t.” Bucky, who was still on his back, more or less in the center of the bed, held his left arm open wide for Peter.

Peter crawled onto the bed and over to where Bucky was and settled in his open arm. Though he pulled part of a pillow under his head. Resting it directly on hard metal wasn’t exactly comfortable.

“God that was hot. I came so hard,” Peter said as he kissed Bucky’s chest. He ran his finger through the mess on his stomach. Looking first at Tony, then up at Bucky, he put his finger in his mouth, sucked it, and smiled.

Tony reached for the towel he kept under the same pillow as the lube. He wiped Bucky’s stomach clean. Both he and Bucky chuckled and shared a glance before turning to accuse Peter. “You were sitting outside the door, jerking off to us,” he said.

“Not through all of it.” He curled up closer to Bucky, tangling their legs together. “I did get my studying done. Fast,” Peter added with a grin. “It was so different only listening. Having to use my imagination to see.” He slid his arm across Bucky’s waist. “Bucky gets to be in the middle tonight. How do you like to sleep? Side, back, stomach?” Peter asked, looking up at him. “We used to sleep spooned,” he began, not saying who the other one of the ‘we’ was. Steve, obviously. “But on my back is more comfortable.” He hesitated. “Body habit.” “On your back then,” Tony said. He’d seen the container tubes in Siberia that Bucky would’ve been put in, to sleep on his back. “Until your body decides on another habit,” he added with another little kiss to Bucky’s shoulder.

He balled up a pillow under his head and stretched out along Bucky’s side. Tony reached across Bucky’s stomach to hold Peter’s hand. Bucky’s right hand slipped up from between his side and Tony’s front, to join them.

#Starker #WinterIronSpider #WIS An Accord #Von writes stuff

[dr-gloom]

Confession Time, Here’s What I Got (Ch 3)

Commission Me (please)

Ch 1  Ch 2

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 9

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairing: Moxiety

Tags/Warnings: cute dates, slight angst, confessions

Read it on AO3

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“You said… me.”

Virgil was never going to drink again for the rest of his life. Damn Past Virgil for getting drunk and spilling the one secret he was ready to take to his grave. Virgil looks at Patton’s face, at his wide eyes and slightly slack jaw and light blush, and his heart sinks. Patton doesn’t feel the same. Hell, he looks embarrassed. Embarrassed that someone like Virgil has feelings for him, or embarrassed for Virgil, he isn’t sure, but neither one is really better than the other. 

Should he deny it? Say it was just the alcohol talking? Would Patton believe him? Probably not, honestly. Virgil sighs. 

“If you want me to leave, I-”

“What? No! Why would I want you to leave?” Patton questions, his look of surprised embarrassment turning to concern. And God, what Virgil wouldn’t give to not be having this conversation. 

“Look, I know you don’t feel the same way about me-”

“But I do! I mean, I like you! A lot! And I’m sorry I keep interrupting you,” at this point, laughter leaks into Patton’s speech. “But you’re absolutely crazy if you think I don’t like you, or that I’d want you to move out if I didn’t!” He takes Virgil’s hand, squeezing it gently. “You’re my best friend, Virge. Romantic feelings or not, you mean too much to me for something like this to get in the way.”

Virgil blushes and looks down. He honestly hadn’t been expecting that. “I thought… I thought you and Logan were a thing. Or like… I thought you at least liked each other…”

Patton smiles. “Nope. Lolo is like a brother to me. That’d be kinda weird.”

“Affirmative,” Logan speaks up from the couch. Wow, Virgil had honestly forgotten he was there. He chews on his bottom lip. 

“So uh… What now?”

“Well… That’s up to you. I’m okay with whatever you decide, because I don’t wanna rush you or push you into anything. Okay? We can go at your pace - or! Or pretend this never happened! If like, you wanted to… do that… Yeah.” Patton shrugs awkwardly, obviously nervous. It’s kind of cute. 

Virgil smiles and squeezes Patton’s hand. “Well uh… I wouldn’t mind goin’ on a date. See how it feels and shit.”

Patton’s face lights up, making Virgil’s heart flutter. “Great! Did you wanna- can I plan it? Please? Pretty please?”

Virgil laughs lightly and nods. “Yeah Pat, go for it.”

Patton makes an excited noise, flapping his hands, and immediately runs off to his room.

“Congratulations, Virgil.”

“Thanks, L.”

____________________________________________________________

“I can’t believe it finally happened, I feel like I’ve been waiting one year, two months, and twenty-five days!” Roman exclaims as he digs through Virgil’s closet. 

Virgil snrks, messing with his hair in the mirror. “That’s a weirdly specific number.”

Roman shrugs, tossing something onto the bed. “I feel it in my soul, that’s all I can say.”

“Sure, whatever princey. You plan on cleaning the mess you’re making?”

Roman lets out an offended gasp. “I am trying to help you here! Most of your clothes are black, ripped, or band-related! Some of them are all three! Why?!”

“It’s called aesthetic.”

“You are an emo nightmare.”

“Thanks, I try.”

Roman sighs, rolling his eyes as he tosses a pair of black skinnies onto the bed. “Here, change into this.”

A few minutes and a quick trip to the bathroom finds Virgil in a pair of black skinnies, his black vans with the purple laces, and a purple v-neck with small tears in it to make it look aged, layered over a black tee. He actually didn’t look that bad.

“I still think you need more colors in your wardrobe.”

“I’m not a pride parade.”

“And why not?”

“Oh, shut it.”

Roman softens, stopping Virgil from fussing with his hair. “You look great. Besides! Patton lives with you, he’s seen you when you’re a depressing slob.”

“Gee, thanks,” Virgil monotones, rolling his eyes. “The support and love I feel coming from you is so encouraging.”

“Now hurry up and get going before you’re late!” 

Roman pushes Virgil out of his room before he can point out that that’s nearly impossible since they live together. The door clicks shut behind him and Virgil huffs. What was Roman planning, squirreling himself away in Virgil’s room? Weirdo.

Paton’s door closing draws Virgil’s attention. He looks over just in time to catch Patton’s eye as the other leaves his own room, and the both of them freeze. 

Patton is wearing straight-lined grey pants, blue converse, and a sky blue button-down shirt. Virgil suddenly feels underdressed. He can’t dwell on that though, because he notices the blush Patton is sporting taking in what he looks like, and he’s sure he looks about the same. God, they’re just a couple of virginal teenagers. Despite, y’know, not being virgins. Or teens.

“You look good, Virge,” Patton says, clearing his throat and smiling. 

Virgil blinks, his blush darkening. “You- you too, Pat. You look… Yeah.” The giggle he gets in response has him turning absolutely red. “So… we should get going..?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement and Virgil internally facepalms. God, he was already such a disaster. Patton nods, taking Virgil’s hand and leading him out of the apartment. 

______________________________________________________________

Turns out four hours was all Patton needed to get a reservation at one of the nicer restaurants in town. Virgil’s eyes widen as they pull into the parking lot, and suddenly he feels even more underdressed than before. He bites his lip as Patton turns off the engine and unbuckles, grabbing his wrist to stop him from getting out. “Pat… I don’t think my clothes are right for this place.” Patton’s smile turns more sympathetic and he takes his wrist out of Virgil’s hold to instead take his hand, squeezing it gently. 

“It’ll be okay. You look great, Virge. And besides, if they kick us out we can find somewhere way less snobby.”

Virgil looks down at their hands and nods, butterflies in his stomach. Right. It wouldn’t be that bad, as long as he was with Patton. That’s what tonight was all about.

The two of them walk up to the door and Patton holds it open for Virgil, making him blush and rush past him in embarrassment. There was probably going to be a lot of that tonight, wasn’t there? They walk up to the podium and Patton tells the hostess his name, and within minutes they’re being led further inside to their table. Patton pulls out Virgil’s chair for him, and once again Virgil ducks his head, his cheeks pink. The hostess leaves, and the two of them pick up their menus.

“Hey, Pat?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you doing all this like… stuff? Like, opening the door, and pulling out my chair, and the… the fancy dinner?”

Patton smiles at him over their menus. “I wanna treat you like you deserve, Virge.”

Virgil’s heart does something funny when he hears that. “Oh. Okay.”

The rest of their dinner goes well. Conversation was a little awkward at first since it was a new situation, and they were still getting used to the motions, but once they’d gotten into the groove of things it wasn’t too different from their day-to-day at the apartment. It was just… more intimate. Which was good, it was the goal after all. They ordered dishes they could barely pronounce (and then laughed about the fact), chatted easily, ate plenty, and had plenty of fun. At the end of their meal, Patton paid for dinner without letting Virgil see the check (much to his chagrin) and then led him back to the car. 

“I have one more place I wanna go,” he says as he starts up the car. Virgil nods and sits back, watching the scenery pass by until they’re parking once again. He looks around, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“A park?”

“Yep! Come on!” Patton grins and gets out of the car, opening the trunk and pulling out a few blankets. Virgil follows after him as Patton walks into the soccer field, standing and watching awkwardly as he sets up the blankets. Then, he straightens up with a flourish. “Ta-da!”

“Are we… sleeping outside?”

“Stargazing!”

Virgil relaxes, smiling a little at Patton. “This is great, Pat.” 

Instead of responding verbally, Patton sits down and pulls Virgil down with him, laying back and wrapping a blanket around the two of them. They lay there in peaceful silence for a long, comfortable moment before Virgil speaks up. “Hey, Pat?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, for all of this. It’s really… Great.” 

Patton takes his hand under the blanket. “I’m glad. I really like you.”

“I really like you too.”

A/N: in case you’re wondering, the time Roman says is the exact amount of time it’s been since I posted I’m Sorry (according to AO3, at least)

Taglist: @bunny222 @a-fander-named-skittles @eggy-boyo 

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #moxiety #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts anxiety #ts morality #ts logic #ts creativity #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #ts roman

[jazztripp]

Belated Birthday Gift!

For the stinkiest peach ever @momosweetpeach, this was supposed to be a birthday present but time had gotten away from me! But I hope you like it anyways!

Rated: T (sorry no smutt this time around. Just took rotting fluff) Harpy!Max AU Their relationship is already established in this one. Also not beta’d so sorry for errors.

Spring was probably Wilsons favorite season. Sure it was a bit wet, but there was something wonderful about being able to stroll around and not have to worry about food or dying from the harsh elements of the other seasons.

Not that spring didn’t come without it’s own challenges, but they were minute compared to the blistering heat of summer and the terrible cold of winter.

Although Wilson was probably alone in this feeling.

Maxwell hated spring. His perpetual scowl was even more severe come the wet and rainy season, and while Wilson understood his plight, he also found it really funny.

Because it wasn’t exactly the season that Maxwell hated; it was all of the rain. The poor bird-man didn’t do well when he was wet. His feathers came with a certain degree of waterproofing, but he was no duck. Water collected in his soft downish feathers eventually and clung to his too-thin body, making him cold and weighing him down enough to where flying was difficult.

Today, thankfully, was one of the rare dry days of spring and both men were taking full advantage. Wilson busied himself with harvesting the bountiful resources that littered the constant while Maxwell replenished their food stores with the small animals he managed to catch.

Wilsons pack was only half full despite the day coming to its end, and that was okay. They had plenty of resources at the moment to sustain them, so it was no emergency rush to gather, so Wilson was taking his time. The soft cool breezes tickled his hair and lifted his spirits, and he simply couldn’t pass up a little time to relax.

All around him he could hear Maxwell terrorizing the local fauna and it made Wilson smile. Maxwell rarely had fun, but it seemed like he was enjoying himself.

Wilson called to him, knowing full well that the bird-man would be able to hear him.

“Hey Maxy! Find anything good?”

A harsh fluttering came to him ears a few moments later as Maxwell took a perch on a nearby boulder. Weirdo loved being up higher than Wilson even if it was only by a few feet.

“Hmm a few things. Frogs mostly,” despite his obvious good mood, Maxwell still spoke as if everything was making his life unnecessarily difficult. Everything was either a sigh or a grumble.

“Well it’s better than living off of old corn,” Wilson supplied. Last winter they had a metric fuckton of the stuff and Wilson was ready to never look at corn ever again.

“You can say that again,” Maxwell said with a sneer. “Next winter we are stocking up on more preservable things, yes?”

The lanky man hopped down from his perch and folded in his wings as he took in stride along Wilson. Surprised, but genuinely happy, Wilson took up step right beside him and case him a warm smile.

“Definitely. I think I’ve figured out how to pickle things properly. By the end of spring I think I’ll finally be able to get us some pickled eggplant. How does that sound?”

Maxwell humphed, but his back feathers puffed up in anticipation.

“Anything is better than corn.”

At that Wilson laughed. He had no idea why Maxwell could never voice his opinions in a positive manner. It was an odd tick that used to bother Wilson, but now he found it endearing how obnoxiously stubborn the other man was. It wasn’t that hard to just say, ‘Yeah I like that idea’ and move on with the conversation. Everything had to be a negative or a play on words. You had to look into everything the man said. It should have been taxing, but it really wasn’t.

Maxwell was easier to read than most people realized.

On impulse, Wilson ran his fingers over the soft feathers on Maxwells upper arms. Back in the day this would have earned him a wingslap to the face, but now Maxwell didn’t seem to mind. His fingers came away with a couple feathers, and he held them close to his face to examine them.

“You’re moulting again?” Wilson asked as he ran his fingertip over the soft edges.

“Moulting still,” Maxwell corrected. “It comes and goes until it’s all gone come summer. It doesn’t all just fall off in one fell swoop, you know.”

It was a funny image to picture. Just sudden poof, naked Maxwell. Bald and furious.

“What’s so funny, Higgsbury?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he assured through a few chuckles. Maxwell didn’t seem convinced, but he let it drop.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the company. They basically lived together but it was actually very rare to spend this much time together like this. Wilson had his farms and his science projects to attend to, and Maxwell was a very lonesome fellow and often preferred to keep to himself.

Maxwell would go out and hunt for food or perch up high to keep an eye on Wilson while he worked their modest crop field.

They were usually within earshot of each other, but always doing their own thing, so this was nice.

“You need to shave,” Maxwell said rudely ruining the silence.

Wilson snorted and took Maxwells impressive clawed hand into his and played with the talons.

“It still gets cold at night Maxwell. Unlike you I don’t come with a layer of insulation, and since you refuse to sleep with me I have to make due.”

Maxwell eyed him with barely masked irritation.

“You know I hate the tent, Higgsbury. Damn thing is worse than a cage.”

“Thats a vast overreaction, and you know it. Besides you know if I sleep outside I’ll probably die of exposure so it seems we are at an impasse.”

It was an old argument, so Wilson just gave his automatic response. He was more interested in Maxwells impressive claws. He always wondered what exactly they were made of. Probability pointed to them being made of keratin just like all other forms of claws and nails, but Maxwells were just so thick it was easy to speculate if they were made of something else. Perfectly curved and black as charcoal, they were nearly as impressive as the ones of Maxwells feet.

Now those were a sight. Using his weight and impact to crush small prey, Wilson has watched Maxwell crush and shred through small animals like they were nothing on more than one occasion.

Once, during a particularly desperate time right after a harsh winter, Wilson helped Maxwell take down a Beefalo. They had been starving. The cold kept rabbits and other foodstuffs at bay for far too long into fall, and once Wilsons ribs started to show Maxwell had had enough. It had been his idea, and while Wilson was adverted to putting his lover in danger he went along with it because he was literally starving.

He’d never seen Maxwell act so vicious. Shrieking and clawing at the beast back while Wilson tried his best to spear something vital, it was a hard fought victory.

As they ate Wilson admitted that the display of violence was probably the most attractive thing he had ever witnessed.

Maxwell had blushed and gave a rare smile full of pride.

“Where did you go, Higgsbury?”

Maxwells voice snapped him out of the fond memory and the steamy night that had followed.

“Huh?” he looked up, finding a soft look in Maxwells eyes.

“Are my claws that interesting?” He teased, taking his hand back and hooking said claws in Wilsons messy hair. He gave an attempt to comb it, careful to not let the sharp tips prick him.

“Heh, all of you is interesting, Maxwell. You know I enjoy studying you.”

Maxwell hummed, gently picking a leaf out of Wilsons sideburn.

“Yes I’m very well aware. You’ve been poking and prodding me since we started spending more time together. I still don’t understand your fascination.”

Wilson laughed, the soft picking becoming ticklish and he pushed away those tactile claws.

“Have you considered the possibility that you, Maxwell, are in fact very interesting?” Wilson teased and pushed their shoulders in close so that he could feel the warmth of the other man through his feathers. They had stopped walking at some point.

Maxwell scoffed but this close he couldn’t hide the soft color that came to his cheeks.

“You only find me interesting because there is nothing better around. Remember that albino beefalo? I didn’t see you for months.”

Wilsons eyes misted.

“It…was so cute Maxwell. Could you blame me?….Poor Snowball…”

Maxwell scoffed again, oblivious to the other mans distress and started walking again toward the treeline back toward camp.

“It was a sticking beast. Get a hold of yourself Higgsbury,” Maxwell called back, stretching his wings up and back in an attempt to look bigger.

Maxwell always insisted that the gesture was simply to stretch but Wilson knew better. Maxwell always took every opportunity to show off in Wilson presence, and Wilson always took full advantage.

It was always so nice to see the powerful flight muscles that rippled just below the feathers of Maxwells back.

As they came back into their camp, Wilson was still distraught over the murder of his poor beloved beefalo. Damn hounds got to it. White was a very stand out color.

Go figure.

But he snapped out of it when he head an indignant squawk from up ahead.

“You little bastards!”

“Maxwell?” he called, concerned and broke out into a jog.

As he broke the treeline he gasped at the state of the place. Littered about the camp was the remains of his tent, the science machine lay broken into dozens of pieces, and a few of the chests had been ripped open and their contents scattered about.

Gripping his hair with both hands, Wilson willed himself not to cry as his poor creations lay broken and useless.

Pigmen normally weren’t a problem to he and Maxwell in the slightest, but a wandering few had decided that their camp was a good raiding ground. By the sounds of the terribly squealing in the woods ahead, they were already regretting it.

The urge to help was high, Maxwell wasn’t invincible after all, but the devastation of seeing all of this seasons hard work destroyed was affecting Wilson more than usual.

Even as Maxwell came out of the woods, flushed and furious, Wilson was still staring at the carnage. Ugh this would take all season to fix! And they were finally doing so well too!

“I slaughtered two, but the third got away. Hopefully he’ll tell his friends,” Maxwell said proudly, still baring his sharp teeth in his irritation.

It ebbed a bit, though, when Wilson didn’t answer.

“Higgsbury?” Maxwell approached, eyeing his lover as if he were weary of an outburst. Ridiculous seeing as Wilson would never take his aggression or feelings out on his lover.

“They…God they broke everything! Those…those…bumbling assholes!” Wilson growled and kicked a shattered piece of wood. It went satisfyingly far.

“And it’s almost night! Ugh where am I gonna sleep! I’m sure the furs are all filthy from their feet too,” Wilson all but whined as he gestured to the skeletal remains of his poor tent, and to the rumpled furs that once lined the inside.

Maxwell hummed, his ire dying down completely in the presence of his mates distress.

“We’ll fix the tent tomorrow,” he started as he approached the tattered tent and retrieved the blankets and furs. “These are relatively undamaged,” he called to Wilson, and he sighed in relief at that.

“Well…guess I’m outside with you tonight huh? I’ll….start cleaning up I guess.”

Wilson was mad, oh so mad! But there was nothing to be done now. Maybe they needed to invest in some walls in the future. He knew that Maxwell would love having high walls to sit on, and maybe a complicated gate would deter pigs until the stupid animals got the hint that the camp with the temperamental harpy was not to be messed with.

Regardless it took the rest of the evening to even get the camp somewhat back into shape and take stock of everything that needed to be replaced. It wasn’t as much as he initially realized, but it was still enough to set them back a few weeks. Thankfully the lock that Wilson had made to go around their fridge was too complicated for the pigmen. Their food was thankfully still intact. (And replenished even further by the poor pigs that Maxwell had ripped to pieces for their blunder.)

As the sun began to set, Wilson got to work making a good fire in case the night became chilly. Judging by the temperature now, it was safe to say that it was going to get quite cold. Wilson contemplated getting out some of his winter gear for the night but Maxwell assured him that there would be no need.

“Here. It’s not your precious tent but it will do for the night, yes?” Maxwell said as he gestured to what had been keeping him busy while Wilson tidied up.

Wilson hadn't actually noticed what the bird-man had been up to, but as he looked up it became immediately obvious what he was looking at.

He let out a little breathless laugh, oddly touched as he approached the obvious nest-shaped blankets stacked all cozy under a tree. Close enough to the fire for warmth, but also sheltered in case it started to rain in the night.

“For me?” Wilson asked and Maxwell nodded. Of course it was for him, but he still loved the confirmation regardless.

“No need to look so elated…its just a nest…” Maxwell mumbled, obviously not sure how to take Wilsons delight.

Wilson didn’t care, though, and took the gesture for what it was. Maxwell was taking care of him in the best way he knew how, and that was all that mattered. He took off his boots and took a seat in the surprisingly spacious nest and beamed up at the bird-man.

“Thank you. I love it,” he exclaimed and watched as the feathers on Maxwells shoulders gently fluffed.

“I’m….glad,” Maxwell cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot.

“Are you gonna join me?” Wilson asked after a moment. “You made this plenty big for two.”

It must have been something that the older man was waiting for because he wasted no time hopping into the nest right alongside Wilson. His enthusiasm made Wilson laugh, and after a moment or two of shuffling Wilson was comfortably laying down with his head resting lightly on Maxwells thigh. In that moment the bony man was suddenly the best pillow in the constant.

“If I hadnt known better….I’d think that you planned this,” Wilson teased, his earlier bad mood completely gone as their warmth mingled together.

Beside him Maxwell snorted.

“Of course not…though I cannot deny the appeal of you occupying a nest of my own creation. Deeply satisfying.”

Curious, Wilson turned his head to look at Maxwell. The other man was looking at him with an expression that did indeed look satisfied. It made Wilson smile.

“Well I’m happy you made it for me…You do alot for me and I don’t know if I even express how truly thankful it makes me.”

Maxwell shifted to free his hand so that he could go back to picking at Wilsons hair as he spoke.

“You say it plenty…I’d do it even if you weren’t thankful, Higgsbury.”

Wilson laughed, leaning into the touch.

“I bet you would complain a hell of alot more, though.”

Maxwell smirked, the nighttime reflection of his eyes catching the firelight and making them glint.

“Yes. Yes I would. Now go to sleep. We’ll set about fixing everything in the morning when it’s cool enough to work. I’ll even help you,” Maxwell added as if it were an afterthought, making Wilson snort.

“Ah the Great and Powerful Maxwell has offered my help. I’m forever in your thanks.”

Whether he had actually caught onto the sarcasm or not was a mystery because Maxwell neither looked affronted or amused.

Instead he replied with a calm, “You’re welcome,” and got comfortable as he continued to muss the scientists hair. It was easy to fall asleep like that, and for once he didn’t mind sleeping out under the stars. Maybe he should invest in some kind of…open air tent? Something like that. He could really get used to sharing a nest with Maxwell every night, and he was pretty sure that Maxwell would feel the same if he could nail the design.

He already had a few ideas in his head as the gently petting put him straight to sleep.

#maxwil #harpy maxwell #dont starve #dont starve together #dst #maxwell #wilson

[ak47stylegirl]

The fifth and final of many Important deliveries.

okay, it alan turn now and...well this story had a mind of its own, it went somewhere unexpected...anyways spoilers. here are the others, Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon. edit: forgot to link the other fics, sorry I’ll fix that very soon, just that the links ain’t working..

I hope you enjoy.

"Um...Jeff?" Lucile said, standing behind his desk, where he was working on some paperwork. "can I talk to you?"

"sure?" he said, looking turning around, Lucy looked nervous, rubbing her arm. "is everything okay Lucy?" he said standing up.

"well...you know how I been feeling a little off lately and how I went to the doctors yesterday?" Lucile said.

"yes, everything okay right?" he asked, his worry starting to build. "there isn't anything wrong is there?"

"no...no nothing wrong...exactly..."Lucile said,

"Lucile, you're not making sense..." he said, raising an eyebrow "what are you trying to say?"

"well...l let just say I may need to get out Gordon's baby clothes in nice mouths time," Lucile said dryly.

his eyes widen as the realisation of what Lucile had just said, sunk in.

"what?!" he said, suddenly leaning back on the desk for support. "are...are you saying..."

"yep," Lucile said, eyes glistening. "I'm pregnant..."

he jumped forward, swing his wife off the ground in a tight hug.  "That's great lucy!" he said grinning as his wife laughed in his arms. "how far?..."

"about seven weeks," Lucile said. "I can't believe it...we going to have another baby."

They honestly thought Gordon was going to be their last...well they were wrong, weren't they? He thought smiling to himself.

"I can't either, oh lucy this is great," he said, thrilled.

A week later.

He was sitting on the pouch, reading a book on space that dad had got him for his eighth birthday, while Scott was playing a game of ball with Virgil, who could surprisingly for a six-year-old keep up with his much bigger ten-year-old brother. 

Thought he much rather read a good book than play a game of ball, he's one of the best readers in his grade for a reason...plus whenever he does play ball he always gets hit in the head by the ball...it really wasn't fair.

"boys, can you come inside, please? Me and your mother want to talk to you" dad called.

He raised an eyebrow as he put his book down, standing up to follow dad inside.

 What's going on?

He shared a look with Scott, who seemed equally confused about what was going on as he was. 

"Daddy, what's going on?" Virgil asked, looking up at their father with wide eyes.

dad smiled, the kind of smile that a lot of parents do when they know something you don't.  "you'll find out soon, Virgil."

They walked into the lounge where mum was sitting, waiting with Gordon in tow. once they were all seated dad started talking.

"me and your mother have some wonderful news to share with you boys," dad said, smiling.

Where have I heard this before? I'm sure I have heard this before-wait! He thought his eyes widening. 

"you're going to have a new sibling," mum said, grinning.

Did mum just say what I think she said? He thought looking at his brothers, John and Virgil looked shocked, and Gordon just looked confused...which was understandable, Gordon hasn't been through this before.

"new sibling?" Gordon asked. 

"yes, sweety" mum said to Gordon, "you going to be a big brother."

gordon nose scrunched up "can't we get a puppy instead?" Gordon asked.

Dad and mum chuckled.

"no, sweety it doesn't work that way," mum said, snuggling Gordon in a hug. "I'm sure you'll love your baby sister or brother."

Baby sister or brother.... he thought as it finally sank in, oh this is actually happening! I'm going to another little brother or sister... I'm going to have a baby brother or sister! He thought as a big grin broke out on his face.

months later.

"I think Alan would be a good name if it's a boy" he heard dad say as he was walking past mum's and dad's room.

They're talking about the baby? He thought his curiosity peeked.

he peeked around the corner; they didn't notice him watching them.

"Hmm, Alan? Yeah, that's nice..." mum said, brushing her hair. She had lovely blond hair, a lot lighter then Gordon's who's hair was more of a strawberry blond.

"but why do I get the impression that you're trying to name all our children after the Mercury 7?" mum said, smiling at dad.

he bit his lip, ducking out of sight, his hand muffling his giggles.

"what? I don't know what you're talking about..." dad said with laughter in his voice.

he poked his head back out to see what was going on when he got his giggles under control.

he loved seeing how mum and dad acted around each other, their love so strong, they were a perfect team.

"well, sticking to your theme" mum did air quotes when she said 'theme', grinning.

dad rolled his eyes good-naturedly, smiling at mum.

he had to bite his lip again, mum and dad could be so funny at times.

"I think Allie would be a good name if it's a girl." mum said, "I always liked that name.... what do you think Scotty?"

he squealed, jumping in surprise at being caught.

"Lucy, I don't know.." Jeff said, "you're pregnant, is it really the right time to go away for a holiday?"

"Jeff, if we don't do it now, we may never do it," she said, "come on, the kids would love it, and I'm not due for another three months, it'd be fun..."

jeff sighed "okay, I guess it would do us some good to get away for a holiday, spend some time as a family."

"yeah and the boys would love playing in all that snow, they'd have the time of their lives," she said grinning, planning the trip already.

jeff nodded "I have always wanted to teach them how to ski; I could hire out cabin."

"see, it's a perfect idea," she said, kissing jeff's cheek.

He was sitting on one of the window seats of their van (they need a car that big with how many people they need to fit in) Virgil was seated next to him, head laying on his shoulder, half asleep.

 Gordon was fast asleep, hugging his teddy bear, that use to be his own but he had handed it down to john, who handed it down to Virgil, who then handed it down to Gordon. 

John was sitting behind him, most likely on his computer or reading....or sleeping; it has been a long plane ride, plus drive to get to the cabin, he thought yawning.

They turned a corner, and the mountains come in to view.

"wow," he said in awe, looking outside the window of the van.

 they were beautiful, he thought, the snow stacked on the tops sparkling like diamonds in the sun. 

"it's nice, isn't it Scotty?" mum said, looking back at them from the front seat.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. 

"what?" Virgil asked, half asleep rubbing his eyes. "what are you looking at Scotty?"

"just the mountains, Virgie," he said, letting Virgil see out the window.  

"wow..." Virgil said before yawning.

"why don't you two get some sleep?" dad said from the driver's seat. "you too John, it's still a while to go until we get there."

"will grandma and grandpa be there when we get there?" he asked, sleepily.

"no, they coming up tomorrow," mum said, smiling.

he and mum were trapped in a small freezing room, snow trapping them in. 

he couldn't believe what just happen, everything was fine then the ground started shaking and then snow was coming right at them. 

if mum didn't pull him in this small room then he would have been swept away by the snow, he thought staring wide-eyed at the door.

he turned to face his mother and froze.

"MUM!" he yelled in horror.

mum was bleeding! there was something sticking out her side! blood was everywhere!

"Shh, shh..everything going to-AHHH!" mum tried to calm him but cried in pain, gripping her belly.

"mum!" he cried, kneeling next to her.  

mum was deadly pale, sweating even though it was freezing in here. 

"Scotty...sweety i-"mum cried in pain again, holding her belly. "i..need you to be brave...okay?"

"Okay mummy," he said nodding, tears running down his cheeks. 

"your..little sibling.." mum cried in pain again. 

his eyes widen as he realises what mum was saying, his baby brother or sister was coming.

"not now!" he cried, shaking his head.

"we don't get a choice.... in the matter sweety..." mum said, wheezing in pain. "neither does your sibling...now i... I need you to be brave"

he nodded, tears freezing on his face. 

he was feeling so many emotions right now, it was overwhelming.

he was feeling so scared, being trapped in this freezing room with his mother who was bleeding out, plus sick to his stomach because...well he just helped his mother give birth to his baby brother, something he thought he would never have to do...in his life.  

but he was also feeling an overwhelming feeling of love and awe.....he was holding his baby brother in his arms! he was so tinny, he thought looking at the wiggling baby in his arms.

"mum look-" he said, smiling despite everything but he froze as he realised something was wrong.

mum wasn't moving...at all.

"mum?" he asked again, his voice shaking with fear, moving so he could see her better while keeping his baby brother close to his chest for warmth. 

her eyes were closed, it almost looked like she was asleep...but she wasn't breathing!

"MUM!" he yelled, shaking her with one arm, the other trying to hold his baby brother, who had started screaming. "mummy! wake up!" he sobbed, "wake up..."

he sat there sobbing for ages, it was only when his baby brother stopped crying that he realised that if he didn't get his brother warm, he was going to lose him too and he could not bear to lose another person, even one he just met...but he already loved his baby brother to the moon and back.

he pulled mum's thermal jumper off of her, telling himself that she didn't need it now, that she would want him to save his baby brother.

he wrapped it around his brother, holding him close to his chest.

his baby brother was whimpering.

"Shhh, shh it..it's okay baby brother...i..i got you," he said, trying to talk without sobbing.

his baby brother didn't even have a name that he could call him...except......

"i...I got you...Allie" he said, choking on the last word.

"we'll... get out of here and i... I promise that you'll be so..so loved..." he said, tears running down his cheeks. "and..and protected, oh Allie... I promise I'll keep you safe.." 

I'll keep all of them safe, he thought looking at his mother's body. I promise you, mum, I'll keep my brothers safe.

#alan tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #jeff tracy #lucy tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction

[returnsandreturns]

Long Forgotten WIP Amnesty

I found some fics gathering dust in my DropBox and am just going to post what I have of them so I can exorcise them. 

This is a Psych fic that was going to be an elaborate casefic involving Shawn’s first high school boyfriend and possibly Shawn/Lassiter (even though Shawn/Gus is obvs where my heart truly lies) but is now just this tiny hint of what could’ve been.

1992: SBPD Summer Youth Program

They’re dusting for fingerprints in the station’s breakroom when Shawn’s head collides with somebody else’s underneath one of the tables. He falls back and says, “God, crawl on the floor much,” and is met with a laugh. When he looks up, Shawn sees a boy smiling back at him. At first glance, Shawn documents: blonde hair, freckles, bruises on his arms, blue eyes. Really blue eyes. He’s wearing the same oversized polo that they’re all wearing, but he’s got his rolled up to sunburnt shoulders. And he’s still smiling.

“I have this weird feeling that they’re just having us do this so we’ll have to clean the whole place afterward,” the boy says. “What do you think?”

“Unpaid labor seems like the name of the game here,” Shawn agrees. Earlier, they cleaned up crime scenes that just happened to be in the bathrooms. He didn’t expect police work would involve so much mopping.

“I’m Julian,” the boy continues. “Want to see if we can get out of here without getting caught? We’re half a mile away from a What-a-Burger.”

“There’s an exit in the back of the kitchen that comes out by the street,” Shawn replies, after a long moment. “We could try dusting for stupid imaginary fingerprints in that direction.”

Julian’s smile grows wider.

 *

They get out without anybody noticing, and they buy big greasy cheeseburgers and split a large order of fries. Julian tells him about his dad, who’s a detective in the next city over and who seems a lot like Shawn’s dad, mostly because they’re both assholes. Shawn watches the way that Julian’s fingers tap the table and the way he licks salt off his lips and the way he watches Shawn, too.

“So, how good did you do on the test to get forced to spend your summer doing this?” Julian asks.

I’m a freaky cop prodigy, Shawn thinks. I am the chosen one. It’s terrible.

“I did fine,” he says. “Good enough. Passing grade.”  

Julian squints at him.

“You’re the kid who got a perfect score, aren’t you?”

“Okay, I’m their genius messiah,” Shawn says. “Don’t hold it against me.”

“I would never,” Julian says. “I guessed it was you after you totally showed up Officer Von Fuckface on the first day, but I wasn’t sure.”

“I’ve been calling him Officer Tiny Penis,” Shawn says, “but I like yours more.”

The first day, Shawn had a run in with one of the cops. He hates Shawn because he hates Shawn’s dad, probably because, asshole or not, Shawn’s dad is a kickass cop. That comes with enemies, his dad always says that, and apparently this dude is one of them. Shawn took advantage of the situation by correcting him sixteen times on the first day, with cited evidence from penal code and the handbook.

“Thanks,” Julian says. “Anyway, I’ve wanted to talk to you since then, because you seem like the person who could help me make this experience way less shitty.”

Shawn smiles.

“What did you have in mind?”

Later, after they sneak back in like nothing happened, they cover every part of Officer Van Fuckface’s desk, inside and out, with a thick layer of peanut butter. At the bus stop before they head home for the night, Julian says, “Do you think if we messed up any of his files, that would count as interfering with an investigation?”

“A code 48-1a?” Shawn asks. “God, I hope so.”

Julian laughs, leaning into Shawn for a moment before they both go still and quiet, looking at each other.

“Uhm, could I have your phone number, in case my dad finds out about this and grounds me for the rest of my life?” Shawn asks. Julian digs in his pockets for a pen before grabbing Shawn’s hand and carefully writing seven digits on it. Julian holds onto his hand a little longer than he needs to when he’s done, not quite looking at Shawn, and Shawn notices it because Shawn notices everything.

His stomach or his heart or something in his chest feels like it’s trying to escape the entire bus ride back to his neighborhood. At home, he writes down Julian’s number on his bedroom wall in pencil, next to his phone, underneath a few girls’ numbers and Gus’s even though he knows it by heart.

       *

The next day, their commanding officers line them up and try to figure out who peanut buttered the desk, but they have no evidence either way. Officer Von Fuckface glares at Shawn the entire time. It’s awesome.

As they file back out, Julian nudges Shawn and murmurs, “That guy’s nuts.”

Shawn grins.

“Technically, he’s legumes,” he says, drawing back to let everyone get ahead of them around the next corner. “Want to skip the last session before our friend causes me to burst into flames purely with the force of his hate?”

“Absolutely,” Julian says.

They’re almost to one of the side doors when Shawn’s dad steps out of a room in front of them. He’s in full uniform, and he’s got his arms folded over his chest.

“Peanut butter, Shawn?”

“Are you offering me lunch, Dad? Because I already ate the most spectacular frozen meal that the Santa Barbara Police Department has to offer.”

“It was pretty spectacular,” Julian offers. “It almost tasted like food.”

“Peanut butter,” his dad repeats. He looks at Julian. “Who do you belong to?”

“Detective Hardinson, sir,” Julian says, politely. “Sommerville PD.”

“Hardison? We liasoned with him about a case recently. He seems like a good man.”

“If you say so, sir,” Julian says.

Shawn’s dad raises his eyebrows for a moment.

“I hope you’re not letting Shawn get you in trouble.”

“Dad, I’m offended,” Shawn says. “I’m far too good at what I do to ever get in trouble.”

“Is that why I just caught you sneaking out?” his dad asks.

“We weren’t sneaking out, sir,” Julian says. He’s got this wholesome boy next door vibe that really works for him, especially when it comes to lying. “I was feeling sick, and Shawn was helping me outside to get some fresh air.”

“You seem like an okay kid, son,” Shawn’s dad says, “but I don’t believe a word of that. Why don’t you two go back where you’re supposed to be?”

They nod contritely and turn back, circling back to where they started.

“My dad called you ‘son,’” Shawn says.

“He did,” Julian agrees.

“He doesn’t even call me ‘son,’” Shawn continues, “and I’m his son.”

“You know,” Julian says, “I think there’s a lot of gray area around the phrase ‘where you’re supposed to be.’”

“Hmm. True. What if where I’m truly supposed to be is somewhere that’s very much not here?” Shawn leans heavily into the arm that Julian wraps around his shoulder, letting himself be guided towards the kitchen exit. Julian’s half a head taller than Shawn, and it makes Shawn feel things he’s like 89% sure he should not be feeling.

“Want to come back to my house?” Julian asks. “Neither of my parents will be back until late.”

“Yeah, yes,” Shawn says. “Let’s do that.”

 *

[some stuff happens]

Julian stares at him for a long moment before he slides a hand over Shawn’s knee.

“Please don’t punch me,” he whispers, then ducks down to kiss Shawn. Shawn presses up into it, making a truly embarrasing noise into the curve of Julian’s mouth. He has to resist the urge to climb on top of him.

“Do people—“ Shawn starts, then draws off to keep kissing him for a few more moments.

“People?” Julian murmurs.

“Uh, do people normally punch you after you do that?” he asks, pulling away just enough to see a wrecked smile on Julian’s face. “Because I think that’s a weird reaction to something amazing.”

“I’ve never done that, actually,” Julian says. “I imagined punching could be in the equation, if I misread something.”

“You didn’t,” Shawn says. “You really didn’t.”

*

FAST-FORWARD HOWEVER MANY YEARS AFTER JULIAN ACTUALLY BECOMES A COP AND ENDS UP WORKING A CASE WITH THEM

"Wait," Lassiter says. "You and him were--"

"Summer loves," Shawn says.

"Had me a blast," Julian adds, and Shawn smiles at him. Lassiter looks aghast.

"Oh, don't tell me you've never tasted the rainbow, Lass," Shawn says. "You've got bicurious written all over you."

"I don't--that's not what we're talking about," Lassiter says. He scrubs a hand over his face, which Shawn nicely does not point out as something both indicative of guilt or nervousness and something entirely un-Lassiter-like in nature. "Don't you think this is some sort of conflict of interest? You being on the case with someone you've. . ."

"Made sweet passionate love with?" Shawn offers.

"In that supply closet right over there, actually," Julian says.

"Aww, so many memories," Shawn says, "and so many uncomfortable positions. I've never been able to smell Pin-Sol again without my heart fluttering a little."

"I've never been able to mop without getting a little turned on," Julian admits.

"Oh, god, there are two of you," Juliet says. She's blushing a little, presumably from imagining the two of them co-mingling near some custodial equipment. It's kind of flattering.

"That's exactly what I mean," Lassiter says. "Conflict of interest."

"Hey, I never took any mystical, legally binding cop oaths. Besides, how many of your coworkers have you slept with?" Shawn asks. "Because I know the count is at least one, though I suspect it's significantly higher, knowing how hot and bothered you get over both firearms and paperwork."

Lassiter grits his teeth in Shawn's general direction. Julian looks amused.

"Fine," he says. "But if I see any funny business happening that could distract from this very serious case, I'm shutting this down."

"Whatever could you mean by funny business, Lassie?" Shawn asks. "Does that rule out my up and coming stand up act? Gus's interest in both miming and clowning? Or are we talking about shenanigans in general, here?"

Lassiter points at him, looking like he wants to say something, before storming past them.

AND THERE WOULD HAVE BEEN MORE FIC IF I EVER LEARNED HOW TO WRITE CASE!FIC WHICH I DIDN’T AND LIKELY NEVER WILL 

#psych #my fic

[staytheb]

The Night’s Not Over Yet

Pairing: PTG’s Wooseok x OC [Melanie] || PTG’s Yeo One x OC [Serena] Genre: slice of life, slight fluff Word Count: 5,137 Summary: Wooseok likes Melanie and Changgu likes Serena, yet will they be able to convince the girls that the time they’re spending together is a date and to get an actual confession out of them, too? part two {More Time}

Warning: none... just a few swear words and very minor violence and empty threats (lol) not proofread and i wrote different two years ago than i do now... so yeah.

so i was going through the tags and realized there weren’t that many Pentagon stories and so i thought that i would share the ones i’ve written in the past on another site and put it here on tumblr as well. each part has a part two, but i don’t think it’s necessary for you to read them, but for it to make sense better than you should. other than that happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

"Did I really have to come when you could have just dropped the baby off yourself?" Serena scoffed as her sister grinned widely while Melanie was the one driving. "Of course. It's a win-win situation for everybody, Serena." "Yeah right, Melanie. Maybe for you and the baby." Serena grumbled just as she saw the sign of the amusement park up ahead. "You'll be fine." Melanie dismissed her sister with a wave of her hand. "It's not like you'll be the third wheel or anything." "Of course I'll be a third wheel because I didn't want to come in the first place." "Stop." "Auntie." Lia calls from the backseat.

"Yes, Lia?" Both of them answer as Lia giggles while turning away from them to look outside the window. "Pretty. Pretty. Pretty." She points at the scenery as the sisters agreed with a laugh. "Yes, Lia, it's pretty." Melanie answered as she turned into the amusement park's parking lot. "You wanna play games, Lia?" "Yeah!" Their niece turned towards Serena with a bright look as she clapped her hands together. "Play games. Play games." "Soon, Lia. Soon." Melanie told them as she put the car into park and turned off the engine. "Can meet daddy, too." "Daddy!" She repeated with happiness as she waited.

The duo got out of the car with Serena helping her niece out while Melanie gathered Lia's things. "I don't know why they wanted to meet here, but I figured it must be because of her kids." "I hope we don't have to hang out with them. I mean, I'll play with Lia, but her other kids, no thanks." "You're telling me." Melanie said as the trio made their way to the front of the amusement park where they were supposed to meet their brother and his problematic on and off again girlfriend and her kids. Serena faced her niece. "Ready to meet daddy?" "Yeah!" Lia cheered as her eyes took in the scene around her. "Pretty." "Yeah, super pretty."

Serena realized something and looked over at Melanie. "Shouldn't you be holding her and I hold her stuff?" "You're the one that did that yourself." Melanie shrugged as Serena motioned with her head. "Let's switched before she gets attached." Lia transferred to Melanie's arms while Serena took the Poppy backpack and wore it comfortably after placing the strap of her messenger bag across her body. "You just wanted an excuse to wear her backpack." "That too." "Poppy." Lia reached a hand out towards the purple backpack. "Auntie wear it for now." Serena told her. "Auntie give it back to you later. Okay?" "Okay."

The trio were greeted by their brother, Kang, a moment later. "Yo, over here." He waved them over as Lia leaned towards her father and he took her into his arms. "Hi, princess." He greeted as she giggled once her dad's face nuzzled against her. "Were you a good girl for auntie?" Lia continued to giggle. "Thanks." Kang thanked his sisters. "Her mom wanted to come here for the youngest son's birthday." "Boo." Serena let out as she rolled her eyes. "And what, you're gonna pay for everything?" "No. She said she was taking care of all that." "Yeah right." Melanie disagreed. "Watch. She's going to make you pay for everything." "No I'm not." "Sure."

"Are you guys going to stay or leave?" Kang asked a second later. Serena shrugged and pointed at Melanie. "She drove so ask her." "I mean we can hang out for a bit." "Ugh." Serena eyed her sister as Melanie grinned. "Play with Lia." "Oh yeah, go ahead and play with her." Kang said as he set his daughter onto the ground. "Go play with auntie, princess." Lia smiled up at Serena and walked towards her. "No. Go play with auntie Nini." Lia looked towards Melanie who then pointed at Serena. "No. Auntie Rina wants to play with you instead." Lia walked closer to Serena who backed up with a smile.

"Auntie." Lia walked towards Serena thinking it was a game of chase as Serena continued to play with her. "Auntie gonna go now." "No. Stay." Lia said as she chased after Serena who had turned around to run away, but ended up running into another person. She and the other person tumbled to the ground with both of their parties watching the event unfold in amusement. "You're so embarrassing." Serena heard her sister say as she tried to scramble to her feet while apologizing to the person. "I'm sorry." Serena realized she recognized him, but didn't mentioned it. "It's okay. I'm sorry, too." He smiled at her before smiling sweetly.

"Hey, I know you." "Um, no you don't. We've never met. Anyways, bye." She told him as she picked up her niece to divert the attention elsewhere. "Let's go play, Lia." "Yeah, yeah! Play! Play!" Lia cheered as Serena ran off with her inside the park. Melanie laughed at the whole ordeal when she felt Kang nudged her. "Hmm?" "You go play with them." He handed her several bills. "Get whatever you guys want or whatever Lia wants. I'll meet you guys later. I'm still gonna wait for Dina." "Alright, cool then. Let me know." Melanie said as she bid her brother goodbye and went to go find her sister and niece.

While she was casually walking Melanie felt something hit her head. She looked down and spotted a small hackey sack. She picked it up and looked for the culprit and saw a familiar face coming up to her. "Is this your ball, Wooseok?" "Hey there Melanie and um, yeah. Sorry about that." She tossed the ball at him which he caught effortlessly. "Were you trying to get my attention by using that or was your target elsewhere?" Melanie teased as Wooseok let out an awkward laugh. "No, it wasn't like that." "I'm teasing." Before either of them could say more Melanie felt a light tap against her thigh.

"C'mon." Lia urged Melanie as she took a hold of her aunt's hand and began to pull her away. "Well, I gotta go, Wooseok, but see you tomorrow at work." "Yeah, see ya." Melanie looked down at her niece. "Where's auntie Rina?" "Over there." Lia pointed with her other hand where Serena was now eating a large corn-dog. "Is your head okay?" "Yeah, how about your face?" "What about my face?" "I saw you smiling when you saw that guy. Cute, huh?" "Shut up. Where's Kang?" Serena asked upon not seeing her brother. "He's gonna wait for Dina." "Boo." "He gave me money. Let's go play." "Cool, Lia wants to play the Duck Pond." "I'm sure that's you."

~~~~~~~~~~

"So Serena, did you get a chance to see that cute guy again?" Melanie asked Serena as the trio were eating dinner after playing for two hours. "No and I'm glad this place is huge. Why do you even care?" Serena said eyeing her sister as Melanie shrugged with a hidden smile. "Just asking." "For some reason I feel like you know something that I don't." Melanie shrugged again although her expression still made Serena suspicious, but nevertheless disregarded the topic. "Anyways, what do you wanna do after this?" The sisters looked at their niece who was still eating her fries. "What do you wanna do, Lia?" Serena asked the little kid instead.

"Lia can't do anything else. Kang wants us to meet him at the entrance in a few minutes." Melanie informed her sister after she checked her phone. "Now he wants to meet us? She didn't show up, huh?" Serena said as Melanie rolled her eyes. "Well, if you read the group text message then yeah." "Such a waste." "Not really since you won this big ass Domo doll for Lia." "Domo." Lia cooed upon hearing the name and petting the large stuffed doll that was just a few inches bigger than her. "Yeah, after she got used to it and stopped calling him scary." "That was funny."

"Anyways," Melanie began piling the other trash together, "I'll take her since Kang said not to bring the backpack or the doll since the mom's going to take it and not give it back or something like that." "What else is new?" "I know right." Melanie faced Lia. "Are you done eating?" "Yeah." Lia answered as she was now playing with her food. "Okay. Let's go potty and then go see daddy, okay." "Okay!" Lia let out happily as she climbed off the bench. "Bye, Lia." Serena bid her goodbye as Lia went to hug her. "Bye auntie." "See ya in a bit." Melanie informed as Serena gave her the O.K. sign as she stayed behind.

~~~~~~~

After Melanie dropped her niece off with her brother and missed the chance of seeing Dina and was on her way back to meeting up with Serena when she literally bumped into her male co-worker once again. "Is this payback for me hitting you with the hackey sack earlier, Nini?" Wooseok teased as Melanie rubbed her face and stared up at him. "Um, no. I just didn't see you." "That I can hardly believed with how tall I am." "I wasn't looking so it could be possible for me to not see you, Wooseok." Melanie dismissed as she maneuvered around him to continue on her way, but the male blocked her.

"Aww, don't be like that. I was just teasing." "Haha. Not." Melanie crossed her arms over her chest and looked at Wooseok with boredom. "Is there something that you need?" "Not really, but I didn't know you had a daughter." "I don't." "Oh. Wow, that's just awkward." Melanie laughed at his assumption. "You thought I had a daughter? That's my niece. I can't believe you thought she was my daughter." "It's an honest mistake, Melanie." "But that's just so funny, Wookseok. Ahh, I can't wait to tell Serena about this." "You mean your sister?" "Yeah. How do you know her?" "Hongseok."

"Of course. Wait, is he here?" "Yeah, he's with the others." "Okay. Cool." Melanie smiled mischievously as she pulled out her phone to message something to Hongseok. "What are you doing?" "Just messaging Hongseok." "Do you like him?" "What?" Melanie asked once she finished messaging their other co-worker. "No, Wooseok. I don't like Hongseok. I told him to bother my sister. They're good friends." "Wait, isn't she the one that Changgu likes and bumped into earlier?" "Yeah, anyways, are the others with you or are you by yourself?" "I was just waiting for Hyunggu and Yuto. They wanted to win some toy or something."

"Okay, then. You can stay waiting for them. I'm going back to Serena." Melanie told him as she side-stepped around him, but Wooseok took a hold of her forearm. "Why don't you keep me company?" "Why?" "Because we never hang outside of work." "So, your point is?" "You always hang out with the others, but when I want to hang out with you, you're busy." "Because I am. Also, I'm lazy. You always ask to hang out on the days that we're busy and I just want to go home." Melanie reasoned as Wooseok pouted slightly. "Well, we're not at work now. So let's hang out." "Okay. What do you want to do?"

"Oh, I don't know." Wooseok laughed sheepishly as Melanie rolled her eyes playfully. "Wow." "Give me a second." "One second." "You know what I mean." "Alright, whatever." "Let's just ditched the two and it'll be just us two." "Like a date?" "Yeah." Wooseok's eyes widened upon what he said as he corrected himself clumsily. "Uh, wait, that's not what I meant. Like not as in a date. Just a hang out with just us two. You and me. Me and you. Just the two of us. Not as a date." Wooseok eyed the female who shot him an amused look. "Unless you want it to be a date." Melanie chuckled while shaking her head. "You're cute, you know that?"

"Is that a yes?" Wooseok asked unsure as Melanie shrugged with a smile still upon her face. "I dunno. Yuto and Hyunggu are coming back and I'm still here with my sister." "So, that's a no." Wooseok confirmed as Melanie shook her head with another laugh coming out causing Wooseok to be even more confused. "You're so difficult to read, Melanie." "I'm not meant to be easy, Wooseok." Wooseok eyed her as Melanie ran a hand through her hair with a small smile. "The night's not over yet. We'll see what happens." She told Wooseok who's face broke into a relieved grin. "Really?" "Yeah, now let's go find the other two to meet the rest."

~~~~~~~

Serena was joined by another person that wasn't her sister as he took the few pieces of french fries from her hand and ate it instead. "Rude." Serena glared at the male, but softened her expression a second later as she pushed the rest of her food towards the male so he could finish it. "What are you doing here, Hongseok?" "I'm sure I'm the one that should be asking you that question, Serena." Hongseok answered as he finished the rest of her food with a wide smile. "I thought you had to take care of something and that's why you didn't want to come hang out tonight."

"I did have something to do, but..." Serena made a face while casting him a teasing look. "I didn't want to hang out with you and your girlfriend." Hongseok rolled his eyes. "Sora's not my girlfriend." "She sure acts like one whenever I'm around you." "Sora says it's because you're mean to her." "As if. I'm the most nicest person ever, Seok." "Only when you smile." Serena scowled as Hongseok laughed at her reaction. "Anyways, the others are here, too." "I don't know your group of friends, Hongseok, plus it's a bunch of guys and your girlfri-" "Stop." "The guys and Sora." She then eyed him. "How did you even know I was here?"

"Melanie told me and said you would be with the purple Poppy backpack." Hongseok answered while patting the backpack as Serena looked at him suspiciously. "How do you even know my sister?" "We work together." "No you don't." "Yeah we do." "No. You. Don't." "Yeah. I. Do." "She would've told me." "Maybe she doesn't know that you and I know each other, Rina." "Then why would she tell you to come bother me if she didn't think you and I know each other, Hongseok." "Oh, right." "Wow and you said you had a great sense." "I do. It's just been off tonight." "Probably because of your g-" "Don't." "Fine."

Serena rolled her eyes playfully. "It's probably because Sora's been dragging you around to ride the Tunnel of Love or the Ferris Wheel ride, but you've been avoiding it by doing something else instead." "Yeah, basically." "You really need to tell her that you don't like her. She's just gonna be more obsessed with you." "I have, but it doesn't get through to her. Maybe you could help me out, Serena." "Yeah, no thanks, Hongseok. The last time I tried helping out a home boy I almost got stabbed by a fork." "But could it be any worse by almost drowning in the Tunnel of Love or almost falling a hundred feet from the top of the Ferris Wheel?"

"Really, Seok? You're actually trying to persuade me with those possible outcomes?" "Yeah, Rina, of course. I'll even throw in a few ab flashes at your own pleasure." Serena backhanded his shoulder as Hongseok laughed. "What? Don't act like you don't like it." "I don't." "Are you blushing?" He teased while poking her arm as she tried smacking his finger away, but he continued to keep on poking her. "I swear, Hongseok, you're so annoying." "I may be annoying, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't act like this if the offer was coming from another person." He stated with a smirk as Serena narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you mean by that?"

Hongseok shrugged his shoulders with a mischievous look and before Serena could get an answer out of him she felt a sting across her left cheek coming out of nowhere. Just as Serena touched her burning cheek she heard Hongseok's voice turned angry while standing up. "Sora! What are you doing? How could you just hit Serena like that?" "How could I? How could you leave me just to hang out with this bitch?" Sora cried as she pointed at Serena. "You and I were on a date, Hongseok. I can't believe you would do something like this to me." Sora glared at Serena who then just glared right back at her after the stinging subsided.

"Bitch, he don't even like you. He never did and won't ever. You guys aren't even on a date. You're all here with a group of his friends who don't even like you, too." Serena lashed out due to being fed up with Sora's behavior that was built and held on to from over the years. "I don't know why you can't see it, Sora, but it's obvious that he doesn't like you like how you like him. So please do all of us a favor and just leave Hongseok alone for good and find someone else that will actually like you back." Hongseok stared at Serena in shock because he didn't think that she would actually say all that while Sora just fumed even more.

"Who do you think you are to tell me that I can or can't hang out with Hongseok, Serena?" Sora countered as she readied her hand to smack Serena again, but Serena stood up and caught her wrist. "A very good friend of his, that's who, Sora. Now, back the fuck off or you'll find yourself needing plastic surgery after I mess up that face of yours." Sora yanked her hand out of Serena's grip and directed the slap at Hongseok's face instead before storming off while sprouting incoherent words aimed at the duo and pushing pass two of Hongseok's friends that were supposed to keep Sora distracted.

"I guess being slapped isn't so bad compared to being almost stabbed by a fork." Hongseok said to lightened the mood as Serena glared at him. "Shut up, Seok, or I'll punch you where she smacked you, too." "Why don't you kiss it to make it better, Rina?" He continued his playfulness as Serena motioned to hit him as he backed away laughing. "I'm kidding. Sheesh, lighten up, Serena." Serena remembered the other two males and motioned for them to get their friend. "Hwitaek and Hyojung, please get your friend before he finds himself six feet under soon or you'll be joining him, too."

"Hey, leave us out of it." Hwitaek said as he and Hyojung came closer. "We told him about Sora just as much as you did, Serena." "Yeah." Hyojung agreed as he threw an arm around Hongseok's shoulder. "Besides, I don't mind writing an eulogy for him." Hongseok rolled his eyes. "You're supposed to be on my side guys." "That's a hard side to be on when Sora treated us like dirt and worship the ground you walked on." Hyojung countered with a grin as Hwitaek agreed with a loud laugh and threw an arm around Serena's shoulders. "Yeah. I'm so glad you finally took care of her, Serena." "No help from any of you."

"You know you still like us." Hongseok cooed as he playfully tapped on Serena's cheeks with his fingertips. "I'm deleting you off all of my social media accounts." Serena slapped his fingers away and rubbed her cheeks. "You're so weird, Hongseok." "Wow, that's harsh." "Serves you right, you butt-head." "It's okay. I can always ask Melanie for any updates about you." "Stalker." "You wouldn't say that about the guy that actually does it so he can get to know you better." Hongseok revealed as Serena stared at him. "You're joking, right?" "Maybe. Maybe not." Hongseok teased as he ruffled her hair and she smacked his hands away.

Serena faced the other two. "He's joking right? Do you guys know anything?" "I do know something." Hwitaek cooed. "But I'm not saying anything. Ow." Serena elbowed Hwitaek away from her and took a step towards Hyojung who ended up hiding behind Hongseok. "Hongseok can't protect you, Hyojung." "But he works out everyday, Rina. He should be able to." Hyojung reasoned as Serena frowned. "I don't care, Hyo. Come out now." Hongseok laughed as he intervened and pulled Serena into a headlock. "Stop picking on people, Serena. Hasn't anyone told you to play nice with the others?" "No."

Hongseok released her and she punched him. "You're seriously annoying." "I know, but why not ask Melanie about all of this, Rina. She'll have fun giving you answers." "I seriously hate you." "Hate who?" Someone asked as the duo turned to Melanie along with the rest of Hongseok's group of friends. "You." Serena deadpanned as her eyes caught familiar ones and she diverted her attention elsewhere when he waved at her. "Well, Nini, you can hang out here. I'm gonna catch the bus home." "Not uh. We're still gonna play." "Ugh, why?" "Because you have to say hi to your friends." "Um, technically, Melanie, they're all Hongseok's friends."

"That's not true, Serena." The shortest of the group said as he moved forward with arms opened wide for a hug. "You've known me the longest and even before I've met Hongseok." "Shut up, Jinho. Nobody was supposed to know that." Serena shushed him as she glared at him playfully. "You can kiss that pink sweater I was going to buy for you for Christmas goodbye." "Aww, Rina, don't do that. I bought your present already." "You're just making it worse." "I think someone needs a hug." Jinho teased as he moved forward, but Serena took a hold of the Domo plush and held it in front of her. "Don't you dare, Jin. You know how hard I can hit."

"Yeah, I remember." Jinho rubbed the back part of his head as the memory from the first time they had met crossed his mind. "Oh, is that the story where Serena threw the baseball at you Jinho before she fell out of the tree because she was pretending to be a cat?" Shinwon asked recalling the story as Serena went on the defense. "I was not pretending to be a cat, Shinwon. I had to climb the stupid tree because Jinho was afraid of heights and couldn't get his stupid baseball." "Really? Jinho told us otherwise." Yanan stated. "He said you wished you were a cat and fell out because you were distracted by the ball."

Serena narrowed her eyes at Jinho who smiled innocently at her. "Now that I think about it, I really don't remember the story at all." "Wait, I do." Melanie piped up as she tried to recall the story. "Serena mentioned this a few years back, but she said that she was hanging out in her favorite tree when some kid bothered her and kept throwing his baseball around her. She got so annoyed that when she went to grab it she ended up falling out of the tree and spraining her wrist." Melanie laughed. "Yet, she still threw the ball and it hit the kid in the back of the head and they later shared a hospital room."

"Can we not talk about how Jinho and I met?" Serena said as Hyunggu looked over at her with a wry smile. "You would think you'll be comfortable by now since we've been friends for three years." "We're not friends." Serena deadpanned as Hyunggu shot her a 'yeah right' face. "Anyways," Hongseok interjected, "Let's go play some games." He grinned as everyone else cheered while Serena elbowed him away and whispered for only him to hear. "I swear one of these days, or maybe tomorrow, but I'm seriously gonna spike your protein shakes." "I can't wait for that day so I can take you down with me." "I hate you." "Love you, too."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Do you think they'll hate us?" Yuto asked the other seven males as they watched their friends slowly ride the Ferris Wheel in two separate compartments with Yuto holding on to the Domo plush doll that was now wearing the purple backpack. "I mean, Wooseok and Changgu are probably happy, but I don't know about how Melanie and Serena would feel about it." "Serena will be totally fine, Yuto, I think." Jinho laughed as he nudged Hongseok knowing. "It's obvious that she likes Changgu despite how discreetly she tries to hide it." "I know." Hongseok laughed in agreement. "But just prepared to make a run for it when she comes at us." "I know."

"But does Melanie even like Wooseok?" Yanan voiced unsure as he looked at the others. "I don't remember if she mentioned or shown interest in him." "Now that you mention it, Yanan, I don't know either." Hyojung added with a confused face. "Does she even like Wooseok?" "I figured she either liked Hyunggu or Yuto though, but never thought it would turn out to be Wooseok." Shinwon reasoned as he pointed at the two said males. "Melanie always talks about them." "What do you mean she talks about us?" Hyunggu asked with a curious face. "What does she say?" "That you're a mischievous brat." "I concur." Hyunggu chuckled.

"What did she say about me?" Yuto asked as Shinwon laughed gazing at the male. "That you need to smile more." "I do smile." "Oh, wait, never mind. That's Serena. She says you hardly smile." "She scares me." The other boys laughed at Yuto's words as Hongseok confirmed that Melanie did indeed like Wooseok after reading a love note she had written for him, but threw it away and he happened to see it. "Well," Hwitaek began as he glanced once more at the Ferris Wheels. "Let's go do something and not wait around here." "Yeah." The other seven chorused as the group of eight left the ride and went to do something else.

~~~~~~~

"So, Wooseok, was this planned from the get-go or what?" Melanie asked Wooseok as the two sat across from one another in their compartment. "Yes and no." Wooseok admitted with a sheepish laugh. "No as I didn't think you'll be here, but yes when the others found out that I liked you and have been planning to get us together since then." Melanie chuckled. "How long have you liked me?" "Um, since the first day you first started working." He mumbled, but it was loud enough for her to hear. "Wow, that's cute." "What about you?" Wooseok asked a moment later. "Me? I can't say." Melanie chuckled softly. "But I realized it a while ago."

Wooseok let out a big breath as Melanie looked at him weirdly. "Are you okay?" "Yeah. I'm just relieved that you like me back or this would have turned out super awkward." "But I didn't actually say that I liked you though." Wooseok's eyes widened and he let out a cough embarrassed by the whole ordeal until he heard Melanie laughing. "I'm teasing, but I like you, too, Wooseok." "Okay, you need to stop doing that." Wooseok advised her. "You keep making my heart flutter in so many ways." Melanie laughed upon hearing that as she looked out the window. "You're really cute, Wooseok."

"Well, you're cuter, Melanie." Wooseok told her as she cast her attention back onto him. "I'm not cute." "Whatever you say, but now that we confessed that we like one another. Are we going to hang out more outside of work?" Melanie shrugged. "Depends." "On what?" "If I'm not feeling lazy." "C'mon, Nini. How are we supposed to build up our relationship if you keep making excuses to not hang out with me?" "If it happens, Wooseok, then it happens." Melanie smiled as Wooseok pouted. "Don't be such a baby." "I'm not being a baby." "The night's not over yet, Wooseok." He perked up upon hearing that. "You right. You right. I got time."

~~~~~~~

The other compartment was quiet with Changgu observing Serena while her attention remained downcast at the floor as her eyes were closed. She didn't mean to ignore him, but the squeaking sound of the cart, the rocking motion of the ride moving, and being inside a small enclosed space made her feel anxious. So Serena tried not to think about it, but she suddenly tensed when the ride jerk a bit and her arms shot out to braced themselves against the metal walls on either side of her. Changgu eyebrows furrowed wondering what he should do to comfort the female.

"Hey." He softly called out to her as Serena's posture remained the same even though she did hear him. "I'm sorry you got dragged onto this ride with me." He apologized still using a soft tone while Serena shook her head slowly. "It's not your fault so you don't have to apologize." She mumbled and Changgu smiled upon receiving a response and held out his hands. "Let me see your hands." He ordered in a polite manner. Serena opened her eyes and spied his offered hands and tentatively placed hers into his. Changgu gave them a reassuring squeeze. "It's okay, Serena. I'm right here. When we get off I give you full reign to torture the guys."

Serena smiled with a scoff and Changgu chuckled upon catching it. "Alright, there's that pretty smile I like." He gave her hands another small squeeze before speaking again. "You think you can look at me now?" Serena gave herself a few seconds before lifting her head to meet his gaze. "There we go." He smiled gently at her while slowly swinging their held hands left and right. "Are you feeling better?" Serena nodded her head. "Yeah. Thanks, Changgu." She smiled at him, but caught the way his facial expression changed when she said his name. "I thought you said we don't know each other?" He mused as Serena straightened her posture.

"Technically we're just mutual friends." Serena reasoned as Changgu laughed. "True, but we can change that." "By asking my sister about my life updates." "So you found out, huh?" "I only pieced it together when you and I got shoved inside this thing." Changgu laughed once again and squeezed her hands for comfort. "Well now that you know, Serena, we can skip the formalities and go straight to the point." "What point, Changgu?" "You agreeing to go on a date with me." "And if I say no?" "That you're running away from your feelings. Melanie's words, not mine." Changgu clarified with a smile. "Besides, the night's not over yet. I still have time."

~~~~~~~~~~

#staytheb #pentagon scenarios #jung wooseok #yeo changgu #yeo one

[sapphicscholar]

Chapter Text:

Monday dragged by at work. Maggie spent the first few hours trying and failing to write up a report about what had happened Saturday night, but she kept getting swept up in guilt over the fear in Scorcher’s voice that she so easily masked in condescension and anger. She wondered if Scorcher was being treated alright. The guilt quickly morphed into anger at Supergirl and the DEO. If she could have gotten a few more minutes, she knew she would have gotten Scorcher out of there. And, sure, okay, maybe she needed to pay a fine or something for all the damage. And maybe some amount of jail time was fair; after all, several people had gotten injured. But she deserved a trial. And a fair hearing. And a chance to find out who the men that had come for her were. And all that frustration burning in Maggie’s chest kept dragging her thoughts back to Alex Danvers and that frustrating spike of something she felt about her. Because, yes, there was anger. And annoyance. And maybe she didn’t hate Alex, but the woman infuriated her. But she also did something else to her…with the motorcycle ride spent curled around her back and the way her features had softened while she treated the burn on Maggie’s arm. And why had she even insisted on treating it? Why did she care? Maggie groaned, dropping her head to her desk. The slight hangover really wasn’t helping.

The afternoon went by even more slowly, and Maggie found herself willingly playing solitaire on her phone for a good chunk of time. Eventually the clock neared 6, and Maggie turned off her computer, pulling on the jacket she’d gotten back from Darla and stuffing her phone and keys into the pockets. She figured the weather was nice enough to wait outside, so she leaned up against the wall, watching the rows of cars whiz by. Once or twice she thought about yelling inside to get an on-duty officer out for a few people speeding enough to probably count as reckless driving, but she knew by the time they got someone out there, it’d probably be too late anyway.

Right at 6, a motorcycle turned off the street into the lot outside the precinct, pulling into one of the visitor parking spots. Maggie’s eyes traveled up the strong legs straddling the bike, the leather jacket zipped snugly around a toned upper body. And then she was pulling off her helmet and shaking out her hair, and Maggie was reminded of a very particular fantasy she had entertained a few too many times after being enamored by Dykes on Bikes at her first Pride.

When she noticed Alex staring back at her, Maggie forced herself to be an adult. A professional. An adult professional working with another adult professional in totally professional capacities. Also she still didn’t like Alex Danvers or her organization or her bullshit policies about aliens. But oh god, she was still staring, and now she hadn’t said anything. “Nice bike,” she forced herself to call out.

Alex mumbled her thanks, and Maggie forced her feet to move forward. “Mind walking?”

Alex shrugged, and Maggie started guiding them down the street, explaining that she’d had to adjust her plans a bit. It wasn’t that she’d really wanted to take Alex to the alien bar that night, but she had hoped to get her there at some point. Let her see that there were plenty of aliens who weren’t Supergirl but also weren’t criminals.

They made it through the awkward pleasantries and shrugged off comments about Darla before Alex brought up the forms. And Maggie knew they were the only reason that they were seeing each other, but she’d also sort of been enjoying the feeling of having someone she could pretend was a friend at her side after a breakup. Just two work buddies getting drinks and chatting. Still, Maggie promised she’d sign the agreements once they got inside. But then Alex made some comment about using the forms as a “bargaining chip” or some bullshit, like Maggie was really going to gamble away someone’s fucking life with her signature.

“Scorcher doesn’t deserve to spend the rest of her life locked up underground because she panicked. I’m not trying to fucking blackmail you.” The end came out more like a growl than anything else, and she watched as Alex seemed to shrink under the weight of it. Good.

“No! No, I—I was trying to make a joke. That’s all.”

Maggie bit back angry comments about all the jokes that weren’t funny. Alex looked genuinely apologetic, and, Maggie supposed, she had no way of knowing that she was poking at the very issue that had led to the breakup.

After several blocks spent walking in silence, Maggie cleared her throat and pulled open the door to P.J.’s. “Sorry. I’m not—even if it wasn’t that serious of a relationship, it’s never fun to get dumped.” Though at some point, she figured she would have to get used to it. Happened often enough. “I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

“You’re fine, really. But maybe—maybe I could buy the first round?”

“What? No. I’m doing this since you fixed up my arm. Which, I didn’t say it before, but thank you.”

Alex’s gaze fell as she busied herself with her coat. “Don’t mention it.”

“No, I mean it, really. You didn’t have to. Not like I was there as a part of your team or anything.” Not like a good number of the cops she worked with as an actual member of the team would have done half as much either.

The look of genuine confusion in Alex’s eyes floored Maggie. “You were hurt, though.” She said it like it was so straightforward, like there was never a situation in which someone wouldn’t immediately be taken care of when they were hurt.

“Not always that simple. But thanks.” Not wanting to let things get emotional, Maggie grabbed her wallet. “What can I get you?”

“Um, whiskey? Neat.”

Hmm. Not terrible taste for a fed. “On it.”

She strode up to the bar, finding Terrell behind the counter. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Can’t complain. Sun’s out. Tips are pouring in.” He flashed Maggie a grin. “See you’ve got a new lady friend with you.”

“Shush, it’s not like that.”

“So is she available?” He wiggled his eyebrows, earning a light swat on the arm from Maggie.

“First of all, I don’t think she plays for your team. Second of all, she’s kind of an asshole.”

“Didn’t say I had to date her, Mags,” he teased. “But fine, fine. I’ll leave your team with their assholes. And, you know…you don’t have to date her either…”

Maggie laughed and rolled her eyes. “Just get her a whiskey, neat.”

“You want your usual?”

“Please,” Maggie whined, stretching the word out into multiple syllables.

“What’s up? Long day?”

“Long weekend.” Seeing the unasked question, she shrugged. “Got dumped.”

“All the more reason to, you know, not date her.”

Maggie laughed. “Considering we work together, I think it’d be a bad idea.”

“But bad ideas are always the most fun.”

“You know I’m a cop, yeah?”

“All the more reason to make bad choices in your free time.” He left Maggie to think on it as he got their two drinks ready.

“Keep the change,” Maggie said as she slid a few bills across the counter, picking up the two glasses and a food menu to bring back to Alex.

“This is for the good advice, right?” he yelled after her.

“I guess we can consider it a down payment for whenever you start thinking of some.”

She chuckled, listening to him let out a dramatic gasp from behind her. “You wound me!”

“You’ll live.”

By the time she got back to the table, she found she was in a much better mood, and she handed over the menu to Alex, making a few suggestions about food, only to be handed a stack of papers that looked as big as some of the books on her shelves. “Ya know, I kind of feel like I’m getting the shit end of the stick. I bring you a menu. You give me legal documents.”

Alex smiled, and Maggie silently congratulated herself on the decision to drag the agent out of an office. It definitely helped. “You’re just lucky I got you the short version.”

Maggie opened her mouth before shutting it again. “Actually, I don’t even want to know.” She ducked her head down, poring over the documents. Alex had at least gone through the trouble of flagging all the places she needed to sign, and Maggie skimmed through the text as much as she could. It all seemed pretty standard. Basically boiled down to: say nothing about our existence or else. Once she made it through signing the forms, she pushed them back across the table to Alex and steepled her hands in front of her. “Now Scorcher.”

“You already admitted she’s not a friend. Why does it matter so much to you?”

Maggie wanted to point out that she wasn’t a friend of Alex’s, but Alex had cared when she got hurt. Instead, she shrugged her shoulders. “Everyone deserves a fair chance at justice.”

“And what about justice for all the people she hurt? For all the people she could keep hurting?”

Even though Maggie got that argument more than a lot of the others, she didn’t want to simply concede the point. Not with Alex. Not with someone who she was fairly certain had never learned to think of aliens as fellow beings with feelings and fears and reasons for their actions that didn’t boil down to: must harm humans. “Danvers, she got scared. And no, she’s not…pleasant. She’s mean and jaded, but you know what? Someone made her that way.” Maggie thought back to the years she’d spent preemptively disliking most people she met after leaving Blue Springs. It had taken a whole lot of supportive mentors and friends and professors and coaches to convince her that not everyone would reject her and that maybe they deserved the benefit of the doubt sometimes. “She had to grow up being different, and people…people aren’t all that great to you when you’re different.” She couldn’t help but notice the way Alex grew quiet, her mouth twisting to the side. She wondered if maybe she’d hit on something there. Even if Alex had gotten a better coming out experience, she probably still dealt with some amount of bullshit along the way. Figuring she could hit home the point a little harder, Maggie leaned in a bit. “Growing up a non-white, non-straight kid in Blue Springs, Nebraska, I may as well have been an alien. Felt like one at least. People didn’t want to listen to me explain that those differences didn’t make me completely unrelatable. And after a while? You kind of learn not to try anymore.”

Alex’s voice was soft when she replied. “You’re not out there burning buildings down.”

“No.” No, she’d shut down instead. She’d learned her lesson about visibility at 14, and it took her a long time to learn that there could be a kind of power in the hypervisibility she sometimes had. “But I’m not exactly showing all my cards either.”

“And what about the others we have locked up in containment? They killed people, sometimes lots of people. They wanted Supergirl dead. They destroyed whole buildings and brought city blocks crumbling down around them.”

Ah, there it was. They’d threatened someone she cared about. There was the personal connection that always made these kinds of negotiations so much more difficult. Maggie wondered if maybe Alex had started dating Supergirl before joining the DEO… Where did someone even meet Supergirl? That would have been before she became Supergirl… Did Alex even know she was an alien the first time they met? Maggie shook her head. She’d dwell on those questions later. “I’m not saying every alien is good. But not all people are either. With people, though, for the most part we try to give them a chance. Aliens…not so much. Sure, Superman and Supergirl fly around and save people and look like the pretty white kids you went to high school with. But some of them don’t have the option to blend in, and we’re not exactly open to them when they don’t.”

That seemed to get to Alex, and she sank into a silence that felt more contemplative than uncomfortable.

After a few minutes, a waiter showed up with their food, and Alex pushed a basket of sweet potato fries into the middle of the table for sharing. Maggie couldn’t help but smile. Apparently one little comment about liking them was all it took for Alex to remember and do something thoughtful. As Maggie popped a slightly too hot fry into her mouth, she tried to puzzle out the woman sitting across from her currently stuffing a large burger into her mouth. She had seemed so easy to read at first. Hated aliens. Liked being in control. Didn’t like sharing. Thought she was better than everyone else. Major asshole. And Maggie was fairly certain a lot of those things were still true, but Alex also listened to everything Maggie said, even when she didn’t agree. And she cared enough to ask how Maggie was doing and make sure she had a Kevlar vest on and take her back to patch up her arm and buy her food that she liked.

After a few minutes, Alex started speaking again. Softly at first, as if she were still learning the feel of the words, figuring out what it was she wanted to say to Maggie. “My job—I see the worst of what aliens do. We don’t get calls to come see aliens hiding out or taking care of their kids or working shitty jobs. We get calls to pick up the ones out in downtown National City burning buildings to the ground or grabbing people off the streets or killing bank tellers over money.”

“I get it, I do. It’s easy to get jaded.” Hell, most of the cops were jaded. Maggie was jaded about plenty of things. “That—well, that's actually why I had wanted to take you to the other bar.”

“Yeah?”

Maggie nodded. “Just, I think it might do you some good to meet aliens who aren’t wreaking havoc on the city.” Aliens that weren’t Supergirl, Maggie thought to herself.

“Maybe once things blow over with the ex.”

“Maybe then, yeah.” And Maggie found that she hoped they would go. Because if Alex was willing to listen, if she was willing to consider why she thought certain things and interrogate that line of reasoning, then Maggie thought maybe she deserved a chance. Of course, she continued to push Alex about Scorcher, asking her about who was processing the case and what exactly the charges were and whether they had kept in mind the kind of conditions that Infernians normally lived in when thinking about the design of her cell.

By the time they were on a second basket of sweet potato fries, the conversation had shifted into other topics. Maggie learned that Alex, like herself, was a bit of a workaholic. She was close to her adoptive sister—like, weekly hang out sessions and game nights and phone calls and incessant texting levels of close. Sounded like maybe she didn’t have a ton of other friends, but Maggie understood that. Came with the job and the unpredictable hours. Plus, Alex didn’t exactly strike her as the type to go bounding out to social events and engage in idle chit-chat for hours to make new friends. There was definitely more going on beneath the surface that Alex wasn’t ready to divulge, but talk of abandoned dreams and changing life plans suggested something big that Maggie couldn’t quite put a finger on.

In turn, Maggie found herself talking about some of her favorite trips, even mentioning Emily, which was more than she’d done in her couple of months with Darla. They found out they had a mutual love of camping, and for a moment, Maggie swore Alex was flirting with her. The mix of emotions playing out across Alex’s face was hard to read, though, so Maggie let it drop.

From there, they talked more about Alex’s sister—Kara, apparently—and some of the books they’d been reading and shows they’d been watching. Maggie learned that Alex’s tastes skewed much more heavily into non-fiction than her own, but they had a few shows in common that they chatted about. Maggie mentioned that she was planning to try cooking some new things, and Alex admitted to being a lot lazier in the kitchen than she should be—preferring takeout most nights after getting back from work.

By the time they left, it was well after 9, and Maggie realized that, other than M’gann, she hadn’t had a friend—not a date, but a friend—who she could talk to like that in a long time. Not that she’d really call Alex a friend, but she thought maybe… It might be nice to have someone who understood when she had to duck out at the last minute for a case or nights when she wasn’t really up for anything more than watching shitty television and eating pizza after a particularly bad day. And maybe she could be that for Alex too; it sounded like she could use a friend outside of her sister.

Maggie realized she wasn’t quite ready for the night to end when they got back to the precinct. She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans, her lips twitching slightly. “You, uh, you heading home?”

“I should really take these forms back to the office. Confidential information and all.” But she looked sort of disappointed when she said it, so Maggie took a bit of comfort in the knowledge that they’d both had a good time.

“Ah, true. Well, I guess…til next time?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

---

On Tuesday, after another quiet afternoon at work, Maggie found herself at home without much to do, scrolling through Alex’s Facebook page. Not that she could see much. It was really just a profile picture that she couldn’t even click on to enlarge and one or two photos she’d been tagged in by people with less strict privacy settings. She hadn’t liked any pages, nor had she listed any information about herself other than the birthday Maggie was fairly certain was required to get a page. It wouldn't surprise her to learn that it was fake.

Eventually Maggie navigated back to her own feed, scrolling through and liking things here and there. Some girl she’d played club softball with in college had a baby. Some other friend was engaged. Someone’s dog got a new toy. Another person had thoughts that needed to be shared about President Marsdin’s latest press conference.

Then there was an event co-sponsored by the LGBTQ Center. Some kind of doubles pool tournament to raise money for an ongoing fundraiser for the Coalition to End LGBTQ Youth Homelessness. Well that sounded right up her alley. She vaguely remembered Alex mentioning that she played pool. Maybe…

Refusing to overthink it, Maggie pulled out her phone and shot off a text: “Hey Danvers, I had a great time last night. Seem to remember you mentioning that you play pool…there’s a doubles tournament Thursday night. Any interest in teaming up outside of work?”

She tried not to look down every few seconds to see if a response had come through, but it was also stressful trying to make new friends, especially when they were friends who also kind of disagreed with each other on a fundamental level about certain issues at work. Things were…touchy.

Her nervous musings were interrupted by the damn smoke alarm. Again. Luckily the neighbor got it to stop pretty quickly. At a certain point, Maggie assumed the mystery blonde must have mastered the art of putting out stove fires in a matter of seconds. Should partner her up with Scorcher, Maggie thought to herself, letting out a little snort of laughter at the image.

A few minutes later, Maggie’s phone buzzed.

Alex: Sounds great. Send me the details?

Maggie: Awesome! Thursday night, 8pm at Nine Ball’s.

Alex: Perfect. Hope you’re good at pool bc I don’t plan on losing.

Maggie: Didn’t think you would.

#sanvers #slow burn #maggie sawyer #alex danvers #next door neighbor au #maggie's pov #enemies to friends to lovers #supergirl #ao3feed #fanfic #in the next room

[shanamichelewrites-blog]

Last Moment of Childhood

This is just a cute little story I wrote while based off of a prompt in one of the several writing prompt books I have. It is not edited that much, as it was just for fun. I hope you enjoy! 

Part One

¨Mom, I get what you're saying, but this is my choice to make. I don't see why you care so much.¨  I say as I pull a soda out of the refrigerator.

¨You are my baby. I want you to stay that way sweetie.¨ I roll my eyes at her

¨Were you like this when Dan said he wasn't trick-or-treating anymore?¨

¨Thats Differ-¨ She starts but I cut her off.

¨No it's not mom. Just deal with it. I'm too old to be even trick-or-treating this year but you already bought my costume. And Randy needed someone to go with.. ¨ I trail off as I take a sip of my drink.

¨You are going with Randy..? I thought you weren't talking to him anymore. Last week you came in here super upset and said you'd never talk to him again? Why not just go out with Lincoln like you every other year?¨

¨Well Randy invited me to go out with him. And besides Lincoln is such a little kid...Randy is cool.I have to go now Mom or I´ll be late.¨ I don´t wait for her reply and run up the stairs to grab the costume from my room.

I pull it on and sigh. I look like a damn 5-year-old.. A big lumpy orange mess. I'm pretty sure this was Dan´s costume from when he was in 5th grade.. I´ve always been smaller than he was at my age.  My mom doesn't seem to get that I am in high school now, and I need to start dressing like a big kid and not some little dork.

¨Come down here so your mother can get pictures of you.¨ My dad calls up the stairs. I stomp down the stairs to show my distaste.  

¨Really Mom…?¨  I would go further but my father shoots me a look. I shut up and let my mom take the stupid picture.

¨Alright I'm leaving now.¨ I say and with that, I rush out the door.  As soon as I'm out the door, I see Randy coming down the street with a few older boys. None of them are wearing costumes, especially one as stupid as mine.  I start panicking. I rip the stupid orange fabric off of my body and stash it in the bushes in front of my house before anyone can see it.

I run out my front gate and go up to them. They are all laughing at something.

¨Hey Randy.. Thanks for inviting me out tonight.”  Their conversation and laughter cease. Some of the older boys give me weird looks. Most of them are much taller than I am.

¨Why´d you let the squirt come out with us Randy.. I thought you were cooler than that.¨ I shrink back..  ¨

¨Oh guys, give him a chance. You can be cool, right RayRay?¨ He uses the old nickname he gave me in elementary school.

¨Please.. I'm surprised he's not wearing some stupid costume. The boy wouldn't know how to be cool if his life depended on it. ¨ I ball my fists..

¨I'M NOT SOME STUPID LITTLE KID!¨ I yell at the boy. Randy puts his hand on my shoulder and I calm down.

¨Relax Raymond.. We just gotta show him that you can be cool.¨ The older boy seemed to back off and go along with Randy's plan.

We start walking in the opposite direction of my house. I take one look back at my house only to see my mother outside, pulling the costume out of the bushes. She might be far away but the sad look on her face is unmistakable…

We ended up walking to the little convenience store on the corner of Main Street and Maple Ave.

¨Okay little guy, go in and prove your worth...¨ I look at Randy confused.

¨Beer. You have to go in there and steal us two packs of beer.¨ Randy explains.  

I try not to freak out,  but I'm pretty sure they can see right through me. Randy gives me a little nudge.  ¨Is your head made of iron? Go.¨

´You have to impress these guys.. Don't be a little scaredy cat. Don't freak out. Don't freak out. Don't freak out..´ I duck down behind the shelves so the worker doesn't see me. I work my way to the back coolers. Once I find the beer, I open the cooler door as quietly as possible. I have to act quickly because if the guy up front looked down the aisle he would be able to see me. I grab two 12 pack of beer, one in each hand and move behind one of the shelves again. The cooler door swings close and I curse under my breath.

´The worker heard that.. He is going to catch me and going to call the police. He is going to ruin everything and Randy and his friends will just pick on me even more at school than they already do.´

I wait a whole minute before moving. I peak from behind the shelves and see that the worker did not move from his seat.  I let out a sigh of relief. I grab another case of beer and stuff it in my shirt and then make a break for the door. I get out before the worker even notices me.

Randy and the other boys are waiting for me. ¨Holy shit, he actually did it.¨

¨Told you he would.¨ He walks up to me and takes the two cases of beer out of my hands.¨ Just ducted under the shelves huh?¨ I nod. ¨Hmm thought so. We are all too tall to do that. You are perfect for it though.¨  

¨ I also got.. .¨ I pull out the other case from my shirt. Luckily my shirt was tucked into my pants so it didn't fall out.

¨Better than expected.. Not bad short stuff..¨ the taller kid says. ¨Now time for the real test.¨ They open the case and hand me a beer.

¨Drink up.¨  

“Ah...oh… okay, yeah, of course…”  I hesitantly take the can from him. I’m waiting for them to tell me it’s all a joke.

I shiver at the sound of the can opening in my hands. I slowly bring it to my lips and take a sip. They are all watching my every move carefully.  The liquid feels foreign to me and  I have to resist the urge to spit it out. I swallow it and lower the can from my lips.

I expected the silence to end, for them to start chatting and drinking themselves. I wanted them to stop paying attention to me so I could just pour the gross drink out onto the grass without having to tell them I couldn’t drink it.  That is not what happens though.

Instead, they all still staring at me. Never taking their eyes off of me. Randy notations for me to continue drinking. They want me to drink the whole thing?! All at once??

‘These boys are going to kick the crap out of you if you don’t drink all of it. Its written all over their faces.’  I put the can back up to my lips and continue drinking. I figure, the faster I drink it, the less time I have to taste it .

The boys stare at me in shock as I throw the now empty can on the ground and crush it with my foot. The beer feels funny sitting in my stomach but I try my best to play it off like I don’t feel anything.

“How you feel Ray?” Randy asks. He seems proud. Whether it’s of me for drinking it or of himself for convincing me to it, I’m not sure.

“Fi-,” I hiccup. “-ne” They all laugh and finally their attention is turned away from me.

Randy puts his arm around my shoulder. “I knew you could do it.”

Part Two

The drinking didn’t last long. The beer quickly ran out, but it proved sufficient enough to get them all drunk so they didn't make me get more.

We walked around for awhile as they drank. They made me down a few more beers, but not too many as they wanted more for themselves. I think, in total, I drank around five beers…?

Eventually, we start making our way down to the other end of town. The area is filled with nicer houses and fancy restaurants. The tallest guy said he needed to pick something up from a guy in that area.

We get onto Holland Street and then the guys start joking about how the principle of the high school lives on this street and that we should teepee his house. Everyones too out of it to think of any reasons not to.

It seemed that this was their plan all along when one of the boys pulled rolls of toilet paper out of his bag. He had one for everyone, except me. I know they weren’t expecting me to come along but that didn’t matter. With the alcohol, my emotions were all over the place and it made me so upset. This was just another reason for exclusion for me. I thought I was finally starting to warm up to the other boys. That I would finally become a member of this group and not just some tag along. I guess not though..

They quickly found the right house and started going at it. Nobody paid any attention to me. No looks, no comments, nothing. Nobody cared.

I feel the tears well up in my eyes.  I sniffle a little. ‘ You can’t let them see you so upset. You’ll lose all the progress you made with them.’ I can’t stop the tears though. So, while they are all distracted, I run.

I take off sprinting down the street. Turning corners and not stopping. The tears flowing down my face. My mind is a blur and I just let my feet take me.

Nobody can run forever though. I run out of breath and eventually stop running. My hands are on my knees and I’m gasping for breath. I look up and see the ocean. I ran to the pier.

I use to come down here with my father when I was younger. We fished a lot. A couple years back we stopped going through. Fishing was never my thing, but it was really the only time we hung out, just me and him. He seemed to really enjoy it though. Nowadays, he's too busy to even do that with me. He still goes with Dan sometimes though.

The water looks peaceful. Waves slowly rolling to the shore. The sound of the water hitting the rocks is soothing. The wind blows and the smell of salt fills my nose. Peaceful.

But peace doesn't last forever. The wind grows cold and sends shivers down my arms and goosebumps rise on my arm. The street lamp above me flickers a few times and then goes out. Nothing left out here but me and the full moon.

My thoughts begin to clear. The fresh air helping. Everything comes crashing down on me again. The events of the night replay in my head over and over again.

´I'm so stupid. I actually thought those boys would be my friend. They don't like me. They'll never like me. They used me…´

My tears begin to fall once again as I sob loudly.

I don't know how long I was standing there crying. I feel so alone.

¨Ray..? Is that you..?¨ A voice snaps me out of my thoughts. I turn around and see a figure standing under a streetlight at the beginning of the pier.

¨Lincoln... That you?¨ I ask. I walk towards the figure and recognize him. He is dressed up as Buzz Lightyear from toy story. He has a big sack of candy with him.

¨What are you doing out here?¨ he asks me.

¨What are you doing out here?¨ I ask him.

¨Wealthy people out this way give out way better candy so I convinced my mom to bring me out here. Now answer my question, ¨ he says

We sit down on a bench, and I explain everything that had happened to him. I stumble over my words a lot but I'm able to get everything out.

When he learns that I had been drinking he stands up in shock. He started lecturing me about how that it was so stupid to do that, but he stopped halfway through. A look of realization crosses his face for a moment.

¨You know. You don't need me telling you too. It's pretty cold out here, how about we go back to my house. You can spend the night.¨

I must have looked hesitant because he adds ¨I'll even share my candy with you. You don't want your ´Last Halloween trick or treating´going to waste do you?”

He offers me a hand and we get up off the bench.

¨Thanks Lincoln..¨

He pushes up his glasses. ¨No problem Ray.¨

#writer #story #short story #writing #writing prompts #childhood #drinking #friendship #halloween #writers on tumblr #books #novel #short fiction #fiction #family